Day 176: That Jew Died For You

I know, kind of a startling title, right? Today I was alerted to a site with a short video titled as seen above. As explained on the site:

Jesus has often been wrongly associated with the perpetrators of the Holocaust. In reality, he is to be identified with those who were the victims. As a Jew, if he were in Europe at the time, Jesus may well have suffered the same fate of the six million who perished in the concentration camps.

 

I hesitated to cite the viewing of this video as my something new, because I wasn’t sure at first how to do it without talking about my religious beliefs, which I consider private. My ultimate decision was that it should be shared, because it sparked an interesting discussion in my home, and maybe it will in yours as well.

As a jumping off point, I will share this one thing:

I have never associated Jesus with the perpetrators of the Holocaust, and I never will. Before watching this video, however, I’d never actually asked myself whether any such connection had ever occurred to me. I’d never thought about it.

I think it’s worth watching and discussing, whether here or amongst your those closest to you.

 

Day 119: Take another little piece of my heart (and all my other organs)

I might lack a lot of basic knowledge when it comes to the rules and expectations of various religions. This evening, for example, I found myself taking part in a conversation about organ donation and Jewish law, which lead me to some research.

First, there is apparently a lot of misperceptions about what Jewish law actually says about organ donation, specifically that it is entirely forbidden. I know, religious law causing confusion — shock of shocks.

From what I gather, donating material that can save one life without ending another — blood, bone marrow, a kidney — that’s all well and fine. However, according to this article from chabad.org, one life cannot be ended to save another, even if the first life has no quality, i.e. brain death. If the heart is still beating, the person is still considered alive. Another source, however, suggests that brain death has become an acceptable form of death, for the most part.

There’s a theory that organ donation from the dead can be acceptable if the organs are designated to save a specific life, not for purposes of storage and research. Another theory states that people should be buried whole, but that there are exceptions, essentially, if the missing part is going to save a life.

Trust me, I have in no way become an instant expert on the topic. What this very brief research has done is raise a lot of questions, both factual and perhaps personal. As in, I’m going to ask all of you a personal question.

Where do you stand on organ donation, and does your religion play a part in your thought process? No right or wrong answer, no judgment. Unless you steal organs, bronze them, and sell them as paperweights on Etsy. Then, you know, judgment.

 

 

 

Day 32: Remember the Sabbath, Part 2

There’s a backstory to why I decided to make a Sabbath observation my something new these last two days. I haven’t had a sudden religious revelation. 

You see, this happened. And I don’t know if it’s more that I wasn’t expressing myself well, or I was being misunderstood (it’s both, of course, I’m just not sure how much of each), but it just seemed like the right time to try and restore some equilibrium, to reset and do better in the coming days. 

Thus… the Sabbath. And let’s just establish up front that I did absolutely nothing holy today. Just to get that out there. For those who don’t know, there a lot of laws surrounding what one can and cannot do on Shabbat. I did not remotely follow all of these. Plenty of people set their own guidelines, particularly ones who are not Orthodox. These were mine:

– No computer or internet

– No television, but movies are okay. I find I watch TV fairly idly, flipping channels, etc., but when I watch a movie, I actually watch it. This morning, I watched “Annie,” one of my favorite childhood movies, for the first time in probably 20 years. 

– No running errands, shopping, etc. Spending money is okay if it has a purpose for the moment in which I’m spending it, like if I’d gone out to lunch with my sister. I did spend a few lovely hours with her later in the day.

My goal, I think, was to get a break from the “I’m so busy, get ‘er done, must multitask” attitude that is so pervasive. It was also to get a break from the idle mindlessness that comes with that. I didn’t spend the day in prayer, but I certainly took some time to reflect. 

I thought about how I would want to observe Shabbat if it were a regular part of my life, and especially how I’d want to do it if I had a family of my own, how I’d want to make it something meaningful and not just something we do “because I said so.” 

So, to those of you who observe a Sabbath of any religion or spirituality, what do you do to set it apart from the rest of week? Why do you do it? What do you gain from it? 

 

 

Day 31: Remember the Sabbath, Part 1

For the record, I tried to get to the Super Bowl toboggan in Times Square. I even went there, which is basically against my religion. Alas, my timing failed. 

Then I tried talking to one of those people with the “What Does the Bible Really Say” stands in the subway. First time talking to anyone in the subway, that’s for sure. But I’m a reporter, so it just felt familiar. New people can count as something new, but while the young women I spoke with was very nice, she just didn’t… well, it didn’t feel like a new experience. 

So I went to temple. I’ve been to synagogues, of course. I’m not religious, but I did the High Holy Days with my family, the bar mitzvah circuit 20-plus years ago… If I recall correctly, however, tonight might have been my first Friday night service. It was also my first time attending services at The Village Temple, and while there are familiar elements to every service, every congregation is very new in its own way.

Unlike the gaping sanctuary of Temple Emanu-El, where I grew up, the Village Temple is small, with very few adornments. In the absence of the rabbi this evening (home with a cold, I believe), the service was lead by a member and what they called a “cantorial soloist,” a gentlemen whose bespoke tallit both allowed arm movement to play his guitar, and reflected the tribes of Israel, as well as his Moroccan heritage. 

The environment was informal, warm and welcoming. The service was probably about three-quarters music, and at one point, several women rose from their seats, joined hands, and danced up and down the aisle. 

The temple is doing a “prayer project,” in which different members reflect each week on a prayer. This week, the prayer was Oseh Shalom, one that I’ve only known in song. The translation is:

He who makes peace in his high places, he shall make peace upon us, and upon all of Israel, and say amen.

The first woman who spoke talked about the struggle to find both community peace and individual peace, particularly the latter. Praying for peace, she said, feels like the easy way out. 

The second woman pointed out that “peace” is a homonym for “piece,” as in the pieces or shards of the vessels shattered when overfilled with the divine light of God, and reminded the congregation that part of achieving peace is tikkun olam — world repair, or, in essence, putting the pieces back together. 

The prayer book, which was compiled in a binder, contained not only Hebrew prayers, but quotes related to spirituality, as well as song lyrics (Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan) that reflected upon the spirit of what it seemed they were trying to convey — peace, renewal… Frankly, I was a little disappointed we didn’t get to sing “Forever Young.” I definitely know that one. 

Before reading the mourners kaddish, the leader read “Epitaph” by Merritt Malloy

When I die, give what’s left of me away
To children and old people who wait to die.
If you need to cry,
Cry for your brother and sister
Walking the street beside you.
And when you need me,
Put your arms around anyone and
Give them what you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,
Something better than words or sounds.

Look for me in the people I’ve known or loved.
If you cannot give me away,
At least let me live in your eyes,
And not in your mind.

You can love me most
By letting hands touch hands,
By letting hearts touch hearts,
And by letting go of
Spirits who need to be free.

Love does not die, bodies do.
So, when all that’s left of me is love,
Give me away.

The service ended with a brief memorial discussion of the recently departed Pete Seeger and his contribution to Jewish musical heritage, particularly his rendition of “Tzena, Tzena, Tzena.” 

 

Apparently, that’s the only Israeli song to ever be a top ten folk song in America, so that was something to learn. 

But more importantly, I learned, or really more was reminded, that there is something really nice about a reflective environment at the end of a long week, in whatever form that environment takes.