Torah for Today

Throughout my childhood, the Torah was considered a sacred object, one that was covered in velvet and locked away in an ominous closet each week. This heavy scroll was associated with thoughts of horror and shame when dropped on the floor; it was revered and acclaimed after surviving another entire year without blemishes or god forbid: smudges. The Torah and all of its values were not to be touched without rubber gloves or a yad, or else an angry Hebrew school teacher would magically appear from a hidden corner. Even worse, my relationship with this oversized text reminded me that the contents of this literature were merely history—never to be repeated.

For faithful people, both Jews and non-Jewish thinkers alike, the Torah is viewed as the polar opposite. They can take this heavy text, rip it apart from its bedazzled exterior, and focus on the core. Not once do they consider this sacred literature to be intimidating, but rather relevant as they apply its eternal messages to their daily lives. It’s not that these people consider the Torah to be any less divine; they just strive to create this “everyday holiness” that is more travel friendly. They can take the jaded parchment and fit it all into their palms of their hands, prepared to take it with them wherever they go.

Luckily, publishing companies eventually strengthened this concept of everyday holiness. At any Barnes & Noble across the globe, one can find JPS pocket sized Bibles and Etz Chayim chumashim on the Judaic shelves—soft covered books that hold the same sacred texts of our faith. What truly holds us all back from not only purchasing one of these pocket sized Bibles, but also making holiness more personal?

Nothing whatsoever held me back.

Today, I have my own purple JPS Tanakh, worn and faded from its constant traveling. The pages are filled with endless notes, highlighted verses, and most importantly, questions. With the ability to make my own initial smudges, I discovered and strengthened a personal connection to the texts ad traditions of my faith. Guided by the questions in my own book, I let myself seek the best answers—answers that carve and mold my own Jewish path.

While I have since gained a deeper understanding and respect for the traditional Torah that is read in synagogues, I value my personal text, filled with pencil marks and creases. I encourage you, regardless of your age, gender, or religion, to create the smudges that will draw you closer to your beliefs. I consider my small purple Tanakh as form of everyday holiness in my life; I know that if my Bible is falling apart, it shows that my life is not.

Perhaps the Torah, the essence of Jewish Scripture, is much more simple and contemporary as we all think: take your faith beyond its biblical origins and create everyday holiness.

Four Questions for a Better World

Eight more problems left.

I stared at my open math notebook in defeat; how was I supposed to finish these final trigonometric graphs without falling asleep?  Underneath my math homework laid an incomplete research paper, two pages of vocabulary words to learn, and a 1950’s play to analyze. Thoughts of sleep and relaxation dwindled in front of my eyes as the clock ticked unsympathetically.

For the average junior in high school, pulling all nighters to complete her homework can easily be compared to, if not greater than, the primordial exodus from Egypt. While I’m sure my ancestors would disagree, my math homework had become my personal form of bondage. Like a post-biblical slavery, once could say.

As we approach Passover, we embark upon traditions that have existed for thousands of years. We compile a bowl of chopped apples, walnuts, Maneshevitz wine, and cinnamon to create our charoset, we watch our relative attempt to compose a creative rendition of the Passover story, but most importantly—we ask four questions that shape and define our Seder. This year, I am offering four post-biblical questions that could perhaps inspire us to stop and reflect before celebrating our exodus from slavery.

1).: Are we truly free? We may be free from the torturous reign of Pharaoh and the Egyptians, but there are alternative forms of slavery that we cannot ignore. This year, more than 16 million children were at risk of hunger while 50% of every dollar spent on food is wasted. Thousands of men and women suffer from homelessness while more people owning second homes are feeling emptier than ever. As a wise rabbi once explained, Egypt can be interpreted as a “narrow place” for the Israelite slaves once living there, but has our country truly provided a haven for such hardships? Has our country become its own Egypt, or “narrow place?”

2). Where is your narrow place?  While you may be blessed with a roof over your head and food on your table, life is not perfect. Everyone we know-- wealthy, poor, faithful or faithless—is experiencing a form of exodus from the factors in life they strive to improve or change. It is critical for people to find the line between their hardships and what allows them to feel free .For me, those eight math problems, as seemingly insignificant as they may seem, have enslaved me to my desk at bizarre hours of the night; overcoming that assignment makes the freedom I celebrate each year only that much more limitless.

3). How can we create freedom today? We cannot wait until Passover each year to find an exodus from our respective bondages. For others, freedom is not only a desire, but also a necessity in order to survive. How can we ensure that the statistics of hardships in this world do not grow exponentially? For some, it could be as simple as taking that first step and seeking help. Slavery exists in myriad forms; a phone call to someone could be all it takes to relieve you from your mental slavery. Others may find that outlet of exodus by being the listener—the connection others need in order to find strength. The cure to slavery is ultimately in our own hands.

4). How can we broaden our narrow places? We are taught in Judaism to open our doors and “let all those who are hungry come and eat.” Yet far too many people eat at tables set for one. The “narrow places” that we once experienced in Egypt simply should not occur in homes today. Perhaps the only solution is expanding our Passover tables and inviting more people in. This year, and every year following, I encourage you to open your doors to invite the person with nowhere else to go.

The source and solution to hardships are in our control. We can wake up one morning and eradicate hunger, spread faith, and bridge the narrow places if we so choose to. This year, let us take these four questions and find the answers. That would make my math homework a whole lot easier. 

An Apolitical Faith

I despise politics.

Between the Democratic hippies and the right-wing Republicans, I consider myself somewhere in the middle, where most of the ignorance lies. I simply do not see the point for politics to consume the lives of average Americans. Because of politics, families have been torn apart; something as futile as a misunderstood speech or discussion creates more wars than unity. Past presidents have had their lives jeopardized by extremists who disagree with their personal and religious values. Therefore, I do not believe that established politics of any form should be preached from the bimah or voiced in a synagogue.

My genuine odium toward politics was not derived from my own Jewish community. In fact, I was blessed with a synagogue whose spiritual leader refrained from sharing his political views altogether. My rabbi’s sermons regarding Israel presented every political angle of a situation, but never concluded with one formal approach. When interrogated about upcoming elections, my rabbi refuses to share his preferred presidential candidate.  While many congregants find his confidentiality to be unnecessary in the modern rabbinic world, I admire him for it. I can only hope that one day, when I stand before a Jewish community of my own, I will remain impartial and open-minded.

As a spiritually seeking seventeen year old, I just want answers. I am always formulating questions regarding the existence of God, faith, and new approaches to spirituality. When I take these questions to the Jewish leaders that surround me, I only want religious opinions. Unfortunately, I have been told that there are too many political boundaries between different Jewish denominations to break in order to find the answers I need. “Don’t listen to that rabbi’s answer; he’s doesn’t support Israel!” “That congregation does not serve Kosher Kiddush lunches; we cannot eat with those ‘goyim.’” “That synagogue plays music on Friday nights; how could that rabbi teach you about God when he, himself, won’t even follow the laws of the Torah?!” I learned to abhor politics when they hindered my personal connection to Judaism. Never again will I settle for anything less than the theological answers I need in order to grow in my faith. When cruel gossip is incorporated with one’s religious opinion, I simply shrug and keep searching for truth. It is a shame, however, how politics both inside and outside a Jewish community can diverge its future generations rather than unify them.

Is it even possible to eradicate politics entirely within our own Jewish communities? Will we ever see a day where congregations can be unified based solely on faith?

Until that day arrives, it should be our obligation to avoid the political flaws that distract us throughout our respective faith journeys. Judaism may be an ever-evolving faith, but its values of kehilla kedosha, a holy community, are everlasting. Let us take our faith to new heights while we grow closer as a Jewish community, completely void of the politics that attempt to diverge us.

May Judaism become an apolitical faith once again; let our leaders be inspired to guide spiritual communities of any size, and let those communities reconnect to the solid roots of our faith.

  

Tzedakah: Live to Give

Life is unpredictable. Some days, we experience the blessings that life has to offer, varying from successes, new opportunities, and happiness.  For most days, we can consider ourselves quite lucky when reflecting on the positive gifts that we receive, such as good health, fortune, shelter, and family. Despite the fluctuating economy, many of us are still able to return home each day with a guaranteed hot meal on the table and a stable roof over our heads. Dining at elegant restaurants is not a financial sacrifice for many, and being surrounded by family and friends is just another aspect of life. On those days, we can afford a perfect world.

Other days, however, are not as fantastic. Economic failures, destructive hurricanes, divorces, and illnesses can enter our lives unexpectedly. The misfortunes in life can easily override the blessings we often take for granted. Life’s unpredictability can disrupt stable relationships, families, and communities, and suddenly, that hot meal waiting on our table could be the most vital part of our day.

From previous experiences, however, it has been proven that there is hope. Whenever there is a life-threatening action brought forth in an entire community, there is a life-altering reaction from the world. For example, the destruction from Irene, the turbulent hurricane, gathered all of the suffering communities in the East Coast together. People immediately extended support and guidance to their neighbors whose homes were severely damaged by the storm. Only ten years ago, our national security was threatened after the horrifying 9/11 terrorist attack in New York City. Families of the victims in the World Trade Center united across the globe to share words of comfort, healing, and hope. Our nation was traumatized in unimaginable ways just ten years ago, but with the volunteerism and support from our fellow neighbors, our country was also strengthened.

It is the galvanizing events like these that unite our community and ignite immediate action from people. What we do not realize, however, is that people’s lives are threatened on a daily basis. The small blessings that we consider mundane are vital privileges for others. In our country, poverty and starvation is a constant fear for most, but a devastating reality for others that we do not see. Unfortunately, unless this problem affects communities at large, it will go unnoticed and unattended. Why is it that we can all gather and create a support system during these national, life-threatening events, but not for the daily struggles that exist right in front of us?

By taking action during times of need, we are actually fulfilling our Jewish obligation of Tzedakah or justice.  Leaving an impact on someone in need of genuine comfort truly embodies the biblical saying of “tzedek, tzedek, tirdof,” or “justice, justice you shall pursue.” In order to sustain and reaffirm our faith, we are obligated to instill faith, or hope, in others. The pursuit of faith is not individualistic; people are meant to share faith together. It is not only an obligation, but also a revered value to uphold a support system for those in need. But there are people in need of hope each and every day. Even in our Jewish religion and heritage, we are not told to wait until a catastrophic event affects us before taking action.

Today, there are ways in which to pursue justice in less time consuming ways. Making a life-changing impact could ensue simply from initializing a conversation with someone. Holding the door for a person behind you, regardless of that person’s background, is an act of true righteousness. We are living in a new world where social philanthropy, or the love of mankind, takes precedence over tithes or financial donations. In fact, those who choose to love mankind will be the next Nobel Peace prize winners, presidents, and inspirational figures of our time. While tzedakah may be an affirmation of our obligations as Jews, it is the acts of righteousness performed by choice that set the standards for ideal Jewish living.

To live a life of faith requires taking obligations to a new level. To be an inspirational leader requires caring for others not only during global disasters, but also every other day. As Jews, we are commanded in our faith to give during the times of communal need. However, by choosing to improve the struggles that appear right in front of us, we will truly be able to be living examples of genuine faith.  Tzedakah is not limited to any certain format or time; this obligation can be fulfilled by merely loving humanity and taking action by choice. While life may be unpredictable, it is the consistent support and awareness that can stabilize a threatened community. By choosing to live a life of giving whole heartedly, or tzedakah, we can overcome the daily struggles that engulf our Jewish community at large. 

Prayer: A Faithful Community

On a typical Saturday morning anywhere around the world, you will be able to find a congregation of Jewish people inside of any synagogue. You will enter a sanctuary of any size or style and experience a unique service filled with Torah reading, d’vrei Torah, or sermons, and chanting. Depending which community you choose to spend Shabbat with, you may see modestly dressed families walking to synagogues, and the local kosher supermarket will be closed. You’ll find yourself surrounded with tallitot, or prayer shawls, and ardent Jews gathering to learn all afternoon. No matter where you choose to go, you will be immersed in a faithful community.

The following morning, you’ll see a somewhat different experience. Sunday mornings across the globe affect Christians of all denominations. All church doors are unlocked in order to welcome large communities that gather for worship services, masses, or bible studies. You will enter a spirited sanctuary of any size or style and be enlightened by the sense of both devotion and passion felt all around you. Depending on which Christian community you choose to experience this day with, you may see a contemporary band on stage or a white-collard priest standing before you. You may see a Gospel choir singing harmoniously or hear an organ echoing throughout gothic cathedrals.  All the local “Chik-Fil-A’s” will be closed, but inside every church community, there is overflowing energy that can satisfy any hunger for spirituality.

No matter which day you choose, which community you choose, or which service you choose to attend, these two dominant religions share a common practice: prayer.  

Prayer, derived from the Latin term meaning “to beg,” is a universal idea that unites people of all faiths. For thousands of years, prayer has been expressed through various styles and practices. Though styles of prayer have certainly evolved since the biblical days of our patriarchs, the significance of prayer has remained enduring nonetheless.

In Judaism, most of our daily prayers have already been written. Jewish congregants form daily minyanim , or quorums of at least ten Jewish adults, and chant Hebrew prayers in an organized service. There are set times at which we pray (Berachos 4:1) along with formulated tunes (nusachim) and movements. Covering every spectrum of life, the average prayer book (siddur) contains various psalms and prayers that are recited three times a day. While tunes and selected prayers are subject to change every so often, the core aspects of this prayer service have been preserved since the formation of Rabbinic Judaism. During each Shabbat service, there is a general feeling of holiness that engulfs a Jewish community; the unwavering commitment that Jews have in Shabbat is exuded through these weekly gatherings.

Within the more liberal sects of Christianity, prayer is explored in more of a contemporary style. During church services, (Evangelical, Baptist, Methodist, etc.) prayers are recited entirely on impulse. Pastors lead congregations in communal prayer and speak the first things that come to mind. Preaching to crowds ranging from ten congregants to thousands of congregants, church leaders speak eloquently and passionately, igniting their inner faiths to shine. Praise bands lead hundreds in impactful worship services, filled with religious music, singing, and even dancing. (Hebrews 10:25) Every Sunday morning seems as though a new element of spirit is being added to the Christian faith; one cannot help but smile when watching a room filled with faithful people spring into life. During the jovial moments in life, we can rely on our faiths for a dependable and inspiring service each week.

 Some weeks, however, are not as incredible. All religions in life face the tragedies and horrifying circumstances that deter the average person from praying. All clergymen are approached with life-altering events that threaten the faiths of their congregants. The religious institutions that we consider to be spiritual havens have always opened their doors during the times of dire need and despair; they even remain open as we grieve for reasons that are sometimes beyond our understanding. During these times of pain and suffering, every religious group is posed with the ultimate question that can sustain or eradicate one’s faith: Why do we pray?

Some people take prayer as an opportunity to praise God without any justification. Others use this outlet of faith as a chance to yell and be angered with theology. Some take the concept of prayer and modernize it; the organized time during weekly services to pray is merely for having “catch up” conversations with God. I realized, however, that no matter how people choose to pray, they are still committed to organized prayer at their respective religious services. Perhaps there is truly one, unbreakable aspect of organized prayer—one that we cannot circumvent even if we tried: community.

Through both the positive moments in life and the heartbreaking, there has always been a faithful community to support us. When we jubilantly celebrate our blessings, we have always been surrounded by a smiling community, one for which to be unconditionally grateful. We may not realize this until today, but that same tight- knit family stands behind us during times of personal struggle. We have always been supported and comforted during the moments in life that shake us and leave us feeling emptier than words can describe. Our loved ones in that community may not necessarily offer theological advice, but have always guaranteed a shoulder on which to lean through the rough patches in life. Through both our smiling and tear-filled eyes, we have seen our communities beside us and continue to stand beside us in our faith journeys. This is the same community that takes part in our organized prayer. So, despite the theological struggles and phases of doubt, why not immerse yourself in a providing community for as long as you possibly can?   

Prayer helps us find an everlasting community. Faith may be a personal journey, but certainly not one to experience alone. Perhaps that is why Jewish minyanim require at least ten congregants in order to begin praying together. Perhaps that is why Sunday morning church services will not commence without at least one family present. While prayer may be one of the fundamental values of religion, it is a strong community that is the ultimate backbone of faith. Faithful people are meant to share faith together.

To one struggling person, your faith could mean the world. Your presence could begin a long healing process for a grieving family. Your religious group’s service that one week could impact another’s life forever. By praying beside someone, however, you will be ensuring that person that no one in life must face faith alone. You will be alleviating the fears and doubts people may have, and replacing those feelings with inner peace of mind.

Faith is Certain

I know that the sun will rise tomorrow. With all of the scientific facts and astronomical data we are blessed with today, I can expect to wake up tomorrow and see rays of light emitting through my window. There is also no debating time. Our clocks, both digital and internal, will continue to function in their typical cycles under any given circumstance. These are only two of the many inexorable certainties that we experience in life. These proven facts in our daily lives, however, are limited.

There are things in life that we cannot physically see or explain, but choose to believe anyway. When our little siblings place their fallen teeth underneath their pillows, hoping to see a winged fairy deliver gifts in return, they are relying entirely on an unproven belief. When students choose universities to attend, they do not know what the outcomes of their decisions will be, nor can they predetermine their futures after school, but continue to grow and experiment with life anyway. Even the wisest of theologians and clergymen have very few answers to the questions pertaining to God’s existence that enter our minds on a daily basis. All of these situations represent a feeling that we all hold onto so dearly: faith.

Faith alone offers no guarantees. Faith is not the proof of our beliefs, but rather the hope that what we choose to believe in is right. While the proven theories in life can only extend to a given limit, the world of faith is truly endless. This sense of hope is also the foundation of most religions; it brings people comfort to believe in some greater force in the world, even if it will remain unseen forever. When a religious institution is filled with people who are gathering to believe in something greater than themselves, there is a sense of unity and humility felt in that environment. And with that unity, there is a reliable community, built and sustained through a common faith.

Unlike the established certainties, faith can be expanded, tested, or even demolished. Circumstances in life shake people; those victims then only want physical answers or just comfort—two factors that faith alone cannot always supply. It is not easy for a family of three, twelve, or even seventy-two to continue believing in an ominous theological being after experiencing a loss deeper than words. It is not easy for anyone to attend a synagogue, church, mosque, or any community of faith after having his/her own faith threatened. The moments in life where we struggle, doubt, and search for deeper meanings in our respective religions, however, is when our faith shines through the strongest.

 During the times of hardship and grief, many refer to the book of Tehillim (Psalms) in order to reconstruct their connections to God. Psalm 25 encourages us to believe in something greater than ourselves, or God, at all times. This verse inspires us to preserve hope, or faith, in a greater power and in a brighter future. By putting our trust in theology, or by keeping faith, we are opening ourselves to a world of fatality, community, and most importantly—strength.

In some cases, faith has been taken to the wildest extremes. Radical thinkers have disgraced their respective religions through their actions or words. There are faithful people who choose to jeopardize others in the name of their own faith. As a socially progressive society, it is truly devastating to witness an abnormal number of deaths pertaining to religion. Fortunately, faith is not limited to those mindsets.

In most of the other cases in life, faith has inspired the skeptics and the spiritually weak. For many, maintaining a faithful lifestyle and mindset has ignited the utmost mental strength and optimism. While adapting such an outlook on life does not limit its endeavors or accidents by any means, keeping and sharing faith only alleviates the intensity of those given situations. With a solid faith and an open mind, we can change the world.

 It takes true faith, or hope, to continue praying at the times when we have lost everything. It takes undeniable strength to not only recognize the proven facts in life, but to believe in them as well. It takes a community of faith to believe that the sun is still shining, even when it is not seen in the sky. It is also our obligation to take those unseen rays of light and spread them to communities that mourn in darkness. There is no doubt that time will continue to pass before us; that is a certainty that will never fail. It is what we do with that time, however, that defines where we stand in our faith. By living with a sense of hope, we can encourage others to approach the highest and lowest points of life with trust in both God and the importance of a community.

So from now on, I will continue to wake up each morning with not only the awareness that the sun has risen in the sky, but also with the faith that it will continue to shine through any storm.

“Oh Lord, I set my hope in You; my God, in You I trust,” – Psalm 25:1-2

Living Faithfully

I’ve always wondered what high school would have been like thousands of years ago. If my friends and I had just witnessed the powerful revelation on Mount Sinai, would we be inspired? Would we immediately remove every kid from its mother’s milk? Would we immediately bind the words of Shema to our doorposts and wrap them around our left arms? Would we still have to take our assigned Chemistry test that week or could the national revelation get us off the hook? While I cannot answer any of these questions on behalf of my 21^st century generation, I know for a fact that thousands of years ago, we’d all be a bit more pure. Since the first group of teens in the Bible to the ones living today, there has been a drastic decrease of not only biblical orthodoxy, but also genuine purity.

Obviously, as humans, we are expected to sin. Perfection has never truly existed among anyone on earth; promoting a flawless generation would be slightly unrealistic. I do believe, however, that the kind of purity described in Scripture thousands of years ago is not out of reach today. Our forefathers, too, suffered from extreme temptations, but did they really have more self-control than we do? Of course, they first-handedly experienced the receiving of the Torah, but as united 21^st century Israelites, couldn’t we try a little harder to connect to the biblical purity that is expected of us?

Genuine purity does not have to be as extreme as that of the sheep-herding days. We, as the most evolving generation in the world so far, could preserve the simple forms of innocence through something as basic as our attire. Every influential woman in the Bible dressed comfortably and colorfully, but traditionally abided by the “modest is hottest” standards. No one told those women that exposing more skin would help them be better people. No one teased them for being naturally innocent, and virginity was not borrowed or traded for a higher social status. Unfortunately, things have changed throughout the last thousand years. Today, quite a few teenaged females confuse underwear as shorts and shirts as dresses, with virginity and innocence as exchangeable side accessories. Perhaps if we all dressed with some degree of modesty, we’d realize that we can still ameliorate the world-- without exposing one too many inches of our sacred bodies.

 In the days of the Bible, young female virgins, though considered beautiful, were fairly common.  They were not pressured by any means to lose their purities until their respective marriages. Today, to find young women with an innocent mind is rare. Whether she chooses to wait until her second date or just succumbs to the first, the average female student gives up her internal purity far too easily. I’ve been told more and more stories of high school couples “going all the way” during their prom nights, if not before. Losing something as valuable as God-given innocence is more than just exposing yourself to pleasure, exhilaration, and whatever else your friends describe. Risks are taken, mistakes happen, and the consequences unexpectedly appear. Statistics present us with the inexorable reality: Since the Bible’s formation, there have been a few more teen pregnancies than suspected. Thankfully, MTV took note of that and created one of the most popular television shows, “Teen Mom.” There are now television shows to view the dangerous potential outcomes of losing a beautiful purity that can never be replaced.    

As a faithful Jewish teen, I still believe that our generation has hope. While we obviously cannot give up our skinny jeans and return to the trends of long robes and sandals, we can at least become aware. We can become aware that wearing a little more clothing is not only expected of us from our faith, but also the professional world. If we just tried a little harder to cover the parts of our bodies that are meant to be covered, it would be much easier for the world to focus merely on our words and actions. By dressing both fashionably and modestly, we could still look good while staying true and pure to our faith.

I don’t pray for our generation to return to the original traditions of the Bible; I just hope that one day we can value the ideals of purity written in the texts of our faith. Through awareness of our potential to be as pure as our forefathers once were, we could reexamine our own lives. We can think twice before exposing ourselves to negative social experiences. While it is encouraged to become aware of the risks that can change our lives, there is absolutely nothing wrong with facing social pressure with a biblical attitude; it’s ok to step away from the things that feel uncomfortable.

I’ve realized that it’s ok to be innocent among the high school students of this generation. I’ve accepted that I will never be a walking “Urban Dictionary” and my body will never be exposed through sheer, mismatched clothing. I respect the eras in life where both men and women were expected to dress modestly and live conservatively, but I truly admire the people today who choose to live that way. Obtaining the rare innocence that is lost in our generation is never easy, but I will strive to accomplish this challenge.

I pray that our generation will only grow closer to the roots of our faith by valuing the innocence we’ve been given since birth. I pray for the high school students of this generation to one day learn the joys of being new and innocent in life, rather than pressure to be the most experienced at living. I pray that there will soon be more conversations that do not revolve around the impurities that surround us, but rather the optimism we’ve created by living closer to our faith.

I still do not know how my friends would handle the life-changing revelation at Mt. Sinai, but I do know that we could connect to our ancestors and live like they did. We can be the leaders of today’s Mt. Sinai, or high school, without deviating from the foundations of our beliefs.

Through awareness, I can prevent my purity from being lost at far too young of an age. Through faith, I can live innocently and purely—alongside my forefathers and mothers. I invite you to join me.