Showing posts with label Rabbinical School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rabbinical School. Show all posts

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Inside Out


July 15, 2008. My mother told me a few days ago that, while I was a bright child—reading at age three and loving school from the very first day—I have always been anxious about academic transitions. On the first day of first grade, my mother reports, I said worriedly, “But I don’t know that grade.”

Orientation begins tonight, and intensive Hebrew class (Ulpan) begins Sunday. I don’t know this grade, either, but my academic style has changed much since the age of six. I love school and I am confident in my academic ability. But this is a different kind of schooling, one that asks not only for intellectual mastery and growth but for spiritual exploration and personal development, for an expansion of head and heart.

In Hebrew, mind and heart are conveyed by one word, “lev.” A perpetual student like me needs to be reminded that the mind cannot guide the body alone; the heart must be deeply involved in any endeavor, and it is particularly necessary on the path to becoming a compassionate, effective,and knowledgeable rabbi. How do we locate the place of “lev,” of heart and mind together?

This past Erev Shabbat (Friday night, the Eve of the Sabbath), the incoming HUC students gathered in the Jerusalem residence of the College President, Rabbi David Ellenson. He shared with us some words of Jewish philosopher Franz Rosenzweig. Rosenzweig called for “[a] learning that no longer starts from the Torah and leads into life, but the other way round: from life, from a world that knows nothing of the Law, or pretends to know nothing, back to the Torah” – a path “[f]rom the periphery back to the center; from the outside, in.”

Who is an outsider? For Rosenzweig, the outsider is the Jew in the modern world, and what is required of that Jew is “a new sort of learning. A learning for which—in these days—he is the most apt who brings with him the maximum of what is alien. That is to say, not the man specializing in Jewish matters; or, if he happens to be such a specialist, he will succeed, not in the capacity of a specialist, but only as one who, too, is alienated, as one who is groping his way home.”

Groping my way through the crowded alleyways and covered markets of the Old City of Jerusalem, I entered the Church of the Holy Sepulchure, arguably the holiest site in Christianity, the place of the crucifixion and burial of Jesus. In the back of my mind, I had always known about this place, and considered the possibility of coming here one day. I never imagined the manner of my visit, the reason for my presence in Jerusalem.

It was strange, I admit, to look at the oil lamps, the crucifixes, the altars, and the intricate mosaics, as an observer, decidedly not a pilgrim. I respected the sanctity of the Church for Christians, stepping as quietly as possible and taking photographs only where permitted. My inside and my outside turned around on themselves like a Mobius strip: the inside of childhood piety now the outsider status of the convert; the outside appearing like a casual tourist mixed with the “inside” knowledge gained from Catholic school; the feeling inside of wanting to share this experience with my faithfully Catholic family and the feeling inside of contentment at being a Jew in Jerusalem.

Rabbi Ellenson in part offered us Rosenzweig’s words to warn us against measuring ourselves only against an academic set of standards, against worrying that those students with “Jewish degrees” somehow have an advantage over the rest of us, against assuming that an ivy-league degree and strong academic ability will be all HUC requires of us. The learning I am about to engage in is the learning of the “lev,” the heart-mind—the kind of learning that requires us each, whether raised Catholic or Jewish, whether perpetually constant in our faith or spiritual seekers, to approach the study of Judaism, Jewish history, Jewish religious law, and Jewish practice from the outside.

Learning from the outside cannot be the disinterested, dispassionate, cold observation of the scientist, but must be, as Rosenzweig urges, a “groping [our] way home.” Home: Jerusalem, Israel, the Diaspora, North America, Judaism, the synagogue, the Jewish people, Jewish text, tradition-based Jewish knowledge, compassion, open-mindedness (and open ears), and the family, too.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Next Year in Jerusalem

This summer, actually...

Many of you know that, in 2004, I celebrated my conversion to Judaism after two years of study and preparation. Since then, I have continued to study and worship at our Reform synagogue, Beth Elohim, where I became a bat mitzvah last summer.

Reform, a liberal movement of Judaism, has greatly enriched my life, and I decided last year to give back to my community and to my religion. For the past year, I studied Hebrew and then applied to Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion. After a lengthy written application, two interviews, and a Hebrew proficiency examination, I was accepted into their Rabbinical Studies program. This means that, if all goes as planned, in five years, I will be ordained as a Reform Rabbi.

My life has not led me on anything like a direct path from Catholic girl to future rabbi, but one constant has been my desire to teach. When I began to learn about Judaism, I was drawn immediately to the study of Torah (Bible and commentary on the Bible), which asks the student to engage with tradition, to respect the ancient and rich Jewish past, but also to remain open to novel connections. Those of you who have already heard about my applying to HUC have asked about the politics of Judaism in general and Reform in particular; in broad strokes, this community is one that will welcome me as a Jew-by-choice, as a lesbian, and as a feminist. It has a long tradition of liberal interpretation of Jewish tradition, social justice work, and a welcoming policy to converts, interfaith families, and gay and lesbian Jews. More importantly, as a rabbi, I will be able to use my teaching skills and academic background, but I will also have opportunities to interact with people at the most challenging and rewarding moments in their lives.

Living in Jerusalem without my wife will be a major challenge, but this is a unique opportunity to learn about Israeli culture, to study Hebrew intensively, and of course ultimately to gain a career that will allow me to serve the Jewish people and enrich lives through our beautiful traditions.

I plan to use this blog to post thoughts and, most importantly, photos documenting my experience during the year in Israel.