In Search for Spirituality

I was born to a Jewish father and a Christian mother.  I’m the child of two faiths, two cultures.  Growing up Christian, I remember moments of crisis.  I remember as a small child questioning the notion of God and being quite upset about it.  My father said my fears and angst were a sign of my faith – without it, my questions would not bother me.  In short, it is appropriate to question.  Today, I question again. 

I’m a Christian but I find no comfort in the faith, no spirituality.  Going to church today is to be subjected to a cacophony of noise.  There is no silence or time for reflection and contemplation.  Most churches are saddled with bands and speakers, ministers who are over-demonstrative and emotional, standing amidst screens with rolling graphics and words.  Through the din, it is impossible to connect with God.  It is likely churches have never been this way (it is a “service” after all) but certainly, the capacity for spirituality and connection has grown dimmer in recent decades.  In the noise, there is also desperation as the faith seeks to find members from an increasingly distracted generation.  

It has been said and practiced by many, across cultures and faiths, that reflection and quiet contemplation leads to strength.  The more one studies and the more one reflects, the stronger one grows.  In this practice, there is an activism toward empowerment.  However, some of today’s Christians seem to have gone in a different direction.  Many churches do not encourage the bringing of the Bible – the written explanation of the faith.  Some Christians sing overly emotive songs and look pleadingly to the heavens, in some cases with tears in their eyes and hands in the air.  Adherents to this practice might call this a sort of spirituality but it is only a passive attempt to search for it.  In doing so, I’ve always looked upon this as weak.

In my study, I see something strong in my faith, something empowering.  However, the way some practices are done seem to truncate that trait.  I’ve wondered what a church service would look like were we able to actively and spiritually approach our faith.  I’ve imagined a church with two rooms.  One room is for quiet prayer and meditation.  Buddhists say that only this can strengthen and correct the mind.  The other room is for reading and studying, discussion and debate.  In one room, one actively strengthens their faith through a pursuit of connectedness.  In the other room, it is done through a pursuit of knowledge and wisdom.  Unrealistically, it would do away with the “service” as we know it today.

The problem for me is that my type of church doesn't exist.  Historically, Christians have never done this.  Perhaps, my troubles are only my own but I don’t think so.  I would love to feel comfortable in a church however, in recent decades, the outside world and the things from which the church is to help us find solace now rests within the walls.  It says in Romans, Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind.  Yet, I cannot find a church that has not been unalterably transformed by the world around them and the so-called necessities of reaching modern audiences.  Instead of showing these Christians the way to connect with God, these churches have conformed to the demands of how the congregants want to worship.  Sadly, it is not worship at all, certainly nothing with spirituality in accompaniment. 

Perhaps, I’m destined to seek my own path.  I don’t mind that and often, I prefer it.  However, it would also be nice to find those of similar disposition. 

What Is In a Name?

From an early age, I was aware that not all was as it seemed.  According to my family, I was Jewish but in accordance with most authorities on the subject, I was not.  The problem was my mother – a southern shiksa who married a Jewish Yankee from Baltimore.  Because my mother is not Jewish, rabbinic authorities declare that I’m not either.  For me personally, it is not an issue and I can dismiss the controversy with a Talmudic shrug.  For Israel, it is a larger issue with much wide-ranging implications.    

There are two sides of the much debated topic.  On the Orthodox side of the equation, there are the rabbis of Israel.  When Israel was created, the government bestowed upon the religious authorities the responsibility of all religious matters which included marriage and questions of Jewishness.  The only time the government infringed on this duty was in the parameters for the Right of Return and Israeli citizenship, requiring only one Jewish grandparent of an immigrant (or their spouse).  However, according to the religious authorities, only one of a Jewish mother or one who has passed through traditional conversion can claim to be a “Jew.”  

On the other side of the argument are the liberals who see the question mired in the difficulty of answering, “What is a Jew?”  Outside of Israel, so many Jews (particularly young Jews) are marrying outside the Tribe, lines are blurring at a dizzying rate.  There is even a growing number of Jews who feel a belief in God is not necessary to be a Jew.  Additionally, there are the problems that arise from such a narrow view of “Jewishness” as seen in the Jewish Ethiopian immigrant controversy in Israel in the 1980s and their Hebraic bona fides.  Compounded with the omnipresent uncertainty of Eastern European/Russian Jews who grew up with no religious knowledge under an atheistic regime and the question grows more convoluted. 

Both sides raise troubling consequences to the other’s position.  The Jewish race, not to mention the faith, has survived largely through a measure of self-preservation and agreed-upon identity.  In the face of historic animosity, they have persevered through a measure of isolationism.  The more vague the traditional concepts of identity become, the greater the threat of the word “Jew” not meaning anything.  Particularly offensive to Israeli rabbis is the concept of a secular Jew without religious conviction.  However, a growing number are in that category or have switched religious affiliation altogether.   For a people who have endured immeasurable oppression, the loss of this identity is traumatic.   

From a modernist point of view, the narrower the term “Jew” is defined, the more likely the faith will die out as prospective converts consider other options.  Ethiopian and Russian Jews do not consider themselves any less so but, in Israel, endure constant suspicions to the contrary.  It is tough enough to convert to a faith in a world that increasingly disrespects such standards.  One can accept such criticism but to have it come from within?  Israeli rabbis have frequently blamed American and other western rabbis for watering down the standards but the reality for these leaders is quite different.  The level of pluralism in western societies make adherence to Israeli standards suicidal.

There is a story of an atheist who tells a rabbi he does not believe in God.  The rabbi responds, “What makes you think God cares?”  I don’t think the question of “Jewishness” can be settled on the basis of religion.  It is an ethnicity and, like God, the belief in the Almighty should not be of primary concern.  However, the rabbis have a great deal vested in maintaining the power to determine this and though liberals in the Knesset are trying to push their agenda, it will take some time.  The Diaspora has broadened the concept of who is and who is not a Jew and there is little point in re-arguing the issue.  One thing is for sure – a protracted argument does no one any good and certainly, is not advantageous for Israel.  I would think it has enough on its plate.