Spring time in Jersey
I sit here on Good Friday. A nice Jewish boy from Savannah, GA not truly understanding the holiday that is not mine. I want to learn more, but also doesn't seem a lot of explanation for why this day is a good Friday. But, this day is a good Friday for Jewish People. It is Purim.
Purim speaks to so many of my memories. It is a celebration of Jews reclaiming their independence from an evil man Haman. It is also about the empowerment of women. The hero is Esther. Who leverages her love and opportunity to protect her people, and also to help end the hatred of another.
But for me, Purim has personal memories. The reading of the megillah (the story of Esther) and listening to the noise makers drown out Haman's name. Was not always pleasant. Going to synagogue, my grandfather always wanted me to be down with the other kids. I didn't want to be down there. The noise was deafening. I wanted to be next to my Grandpa. It took him a few years, but eventually he figured this out and stopped pressuring me to go. I guess this is another time where I did not fit it. But, I was always happy next to Grandpa in shul. Going to synagogue (shul) with him was as much about being with Grandpa as it was about going to pray. As I matured, he treated me like an adult. Not a child.
The other memory of Purim was being at the Savannah Hebrew Day School. Men would come from all over, to hear the megillah reading. And there these adults (probably late teens) would use pots and pans to make the noise. If you think I hated the little noise makers, this made it worse.
I actually have mixed feelings about this all now. This is the synagogue I grew up in. Where some of my fondest memories with my Grandpa. Where my Bar Mitzvah was. But, it is also where I felt alone. And it also represents Orthodox Judaism which as in other religions, has taken a strong stand against gay people. The Rabbi's conservative stance, and dealing with my brother on the issue of me his gay brother has kept me away now for a while. So, I have not been back to the synagogue in at least ten years.
I remember at the age of 18. My Granny was dieing in the hospital and was sent to shul that sabbath. To have an Aliyah (called to the Torah reading to say a blessing) and realizing at that moment that she was there with me somehow. Looking back at that moment, it helped me feel connected with her while I was not at the hospital. But, it also helped prepare me I believe to realize she would not make it through this.
On the other hand, in the NY area I have attended a gay synagogue. (cbst.org) who knew? There could be a synagogue where any one is welcome. Where the praying is similar to what I grew up with, but is lead by female rabbis, and where people feel welcome. Regardless of their sexuality, religion or otherwise. My greatest memory of this synagogue was 9/11. Rosh Hashannah was right after the tragic event. The Rabbi was very focused on trying to keep it together, her and her congregation. And the warmth in the room, and genuine concern was the most Jewish experience I had as an adult. Then for Yom Kippur, the experience was totally different. Usually, Yom Kippur services are at the top of the Javitz Center in New York. Glass windows and you are watching the sun set over the Hudson River. Very majestic and special, and somber as Yom Kippur should be. This year, again after 9/11, that area was the HQ for much of the relief efforts for 9/11. So Yom Kippur was in the basement, and here we are as a community, more chairs being added. The need to have some kind of connection with each other. Once there were over 3000 people, the Rabbi asked us all to stand so we could see the magnitude of those that died. She had there a Muslim leader to show that she knew this was not a religious act as the terrorists would want us to believe. and then, she compared the towers to the ten commandments. The shattered ones after the Gold Calf. That we needed to keep the memory alive, but also needed to move forward. It struck me that these two experiences were very Jewish, very New York of course, and one of the most awe inspired experiences of my life.
That said.. I sit here on Purim. Wondering about the future of my life. And too much a degree, my religious feelings and beliefs are involved and part of the debate as well.
Happy Purim!
Purim speaks to so many of my memories. It is a celebration of Jews reclaiming their independence from an evil man Haman. It is also about the empowerment of women. The hero is Esther. Who leverages her love and opportunity to protect her people, and also to help end the hatred of another.
But for me, Purim has personal memories. The reading of the megillah (the story of Esther) and listening to the noise makers drown out Haman's name. Was not always pleasant. Going to synagogue, my grandfather always wanted me to be down with the other kids. I didn't want to be down there. The noise was deafening. I wanted to be next to my Grandpa. It took him a few years, but eventually he figured this out and stopped pressuring me to go. I guess this is another time where I did not fit it. But, I was always happy next to Grandpa in shul. Going to synagogue (shul) with him was as much about being with Grandpa as it was about going to pray. As I matured, he treated me like an adult. Not a child.
The other memory of Purim was being at the Savannah Hebrew Day School. Men would come from all over, to hear the megillah reading. And there these adults (probably late teens) would use pots and pans to make the noise. If you think I hated the little noise makers, this made it worse.
I actually have mixed feelings about this all now. This is the synagogue I grew up in. Where some of my fondest memories with my Grandpa. Where my Bar Mitzvah was. But, it is also where I felt alone. And it also represents Orthodox Judaism which as in other religions, has taken a strong stand against gay people. The Rabbi's conservative stance, and dealing with my brother on the issue of me his gay brother has kept me away now for a while. So, I have not been back to the synagogue in at least ten years.
I remember at the age of 18. My Granny was dieing in the hospital and was sent to shul that sabbath. To have an Aliyah (called to the Torah reading to say a blessing) and realizing at that moment that she was there with me somehow. Looking back at that moment, it helped me feel connected with her while I was not at the hospital. But, it also helped prepare me I believe to realize she would not make it through this.
On the other hand, in the NY area I have attended a gay synagogue. (cbst.org) who knew? There could be a synagogue where any one is welcome. Where the praying is similar to what I grew up with, but is lead by female rabbis, and where people feel welcome. Regardless of their sexuality, religion or otherwise. My greatest memory of this synagogue was 9/11. Rosh Hashannah was right after the tragic event. The Rabbi was very focused on trying to keep it together, her and her congregation. And the warmth in the room, and genuine concern was the most Jewish experience I had as an adult. Then for Yom Kippur, the experience was totally different. Usually, Yom Kippur services are at the top of the Javitz Center in New York. Glass windows and you are watching the sun set over the Hudson River. Very majestic and special, and somber as Yom Kippur should be. This year, again after 9/11, that area was the HQ for much of the relief efforts for 9/11. So Yom Kippur was in the basement, and here we are as a community, more chairs being added. The need to have some kind of connection with each other. Once there were over 3000 people, the Rabbi asked us all to stand so we could see the magnitude of those that died. She had there a Muslim leader to show that she knew this was not a religious act as the terrorists would want us to believe. and then, she compared the towers to the ten commandments. The shattered ones after the Gold Calf. That we needed to keep the memory alive, but also needed to move forward. It struck me that these two experiences were very Jewish, very New York of course, and one of the most awe inspired experiences of my life.
That said.. I sit here on Purim. Wondering about the future of my life. And too much a degree, my religious feelings and beliefs are involved and part of the debate as well.
Happy Purim!
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