So I'm a "good Jew!" (who knew??)
So I'm a "good Jew!" (who knew??)
"The root of spirituality isn't always in the detail of who we pray to. It is the notion that we are connecting with a benevolent source that is beyond our full comprehension. In a word, it is love."
By Michael Golden
The two fellas heading toward the exit at the United Center were dressed in traditional Hasidic garb: white button down shirts and black jackets, both sporting reddish beards sneaking out of the bottom of their black hats. I was going to ask them a question, but before I’d even gotten a word out, they’d spotted the Star of David around my neck and were already approaching me.
We were at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, and the reason I was standing near the doors was because there was some confusion over my credentials. Levi and Avra didn’t have the answer to my question, but after we kibitzed for a minute, we realized that they knew one of my oldest friends. Andrew Rashkow was a leader in the Chabad community of Skokie before he made Aliyah to Jerusalem just a few years ago.
All of a sudden, Avra pulled out his tefillin and asked me if I’d like them to apply it to me and pray together. In fact, that’s why there were there: to help Jews at the convention with anything they might need: food, physical assistance, prayer, etc. They’d provided the same service at the Republican National Convention a month prior.
I told Avra, with a smile, that I was pretty much a Reformed Jew, bordering on secular. In other words, I prayed quite infrequently — a little bit on holidays. But he was totally undeterred, and so we began.
Tefillin are small boxes with leather straps inside that contain scrolls of parchment that are inscribed with verses from the Torah. Avra wrapped the tefillin around my left forearm, while Levi affixed a white yarmulke onto my head. And away we prayed:
“Baruch Atah Ado-noy Elo-hay-nu Me-lech Ho-lom A-sher Kidshonu B'mitz-vo-sov V'tzi-vonu L'ho-niach Tefillin.”
(Blessed are You, L-ord our G-d, King of the universe, Who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to put on tefillin)
As I repeated after Avra, many of the prayer phrases were quite familiar to me, but I few I mispronounced. And I laughed. And then he laughed. “Wait!” I said to Avra. “Doesn’t that mean we have to start again? You can’t be laughing at me while we pray, right?”
“Not at all!” said Avra. "The lesson is that a Jew should be so happy doing a mitzvah, connecting to God at any place, at any given time, at every given moment. We are proud to be Jewish.”
Cool. I liked that answer. And thinking about it prompted me to ask him another question — one that I ask a Torah-observant Jew about once per decade. The last time I asked it was during an interview I was doing with Andrew. It’s a question that a number of non-observant Jews have rolling around our subconscious. I know this, because we’ve talked about it. Even non-Jews wonder aloud sometimes: If you’re not religious, what makes you Jewish? Is it a religion? Or a race? An ethnicity? The point is, Jewish history is complicated, end not everything in life is a straight line.
So I asked Avra and Levi:
“When Torah-observant Jews (Jews who people generally describe as Hasidic or “ultra-orthodox”) like you come across a Jew like me who knows most of the more mainstream Jewish prayers and customs — but does not make the abstemious effort that you do every day in following all 613 Commandments in the Torah — doesn’t it frustrate you a bit?”
Avra nodded his head in understanding of the question, and replied:
“I get the question, but absolutely not. We see a beautiful Jew and we want to give them an opportunity to connect to God. A Jew is a Jew and an opportunity to connect to God is an opportunity to connect. You think a Torah-observant Jew is always perfect? They screw up! We screw up. So we look at the here and now. Right now there's a Jew who wants to check with God. Just connect with God.”
What a wonderful answer. And not far off from what Andrew had explained to me during our discussion. Which also wasn’t far off from what an an Orthodox Israeli and I had talked about 25 years ago in Jerusalem. There’s a universality to being Jewish, no matter how one practices.
In fact, I’d say this applies to a number of religions — including ones that are not monotheistic. And that’s because the root of spirituality is not always in the details of who or what you are connecting to. It’s the notion that it is a powerful and benevolent source that’s far beyond our full comprehension. It is, in a word, love.
Avra and Levi and I took a quick pic together and exchanged information. They made me feel like a good Jew. And Avra slid a blue and white bracelet around my left wrist that said “Am Yisrael Chi.” Indeed.
I’m not really a bracelet kind of guy, but I haven’t taken this thing off yet. Not sure I ever will.
MICHAEL GOLDEN is the Editor-in-Chief of JEWDICIOUS.
From unpacking history and politics to navigating the nuances of family and personal relationships to finding the human angle on sports and entertainment — plus our unsparing take on what’s happening in the Jewish world — the canvas at JEWDICIOUS is limitless! JOIN US!!
