Skunks& history time~
Back in the early 2000s, I spent a lot of time on MUCKs (surprising no one), mostly on FluffMUCK at first, but later on SPR and FurryMUCK. I met a shitload of really cool people, many of whom I still talk to, even if only rarely.
One of these people was a very strange, very proud, very smart critter who felt sort of...I do not know if 'fatherly' is quite the word I am looking for, but it is close. He had a very protective air around me, if nothing else, that rode the line along creepy. He was a mathematician of some sort, first in school and then working somewhere, and it was him that really pushed me to learn programming in any real capacity.
At one point, probably around 2004, he disappeared for more than a year, and since I had no other way of knowing just where he had gone, I just kind of had to accept it.1 When he returned, it was under a different name, this one referring to one of the sefirot from kabbalah, and he was well into the process of converting to some form of Judaism. I asked him a bunch of questions, which mostly went nowhere, but he did point me toward a book, God Is a Verb, which, a lot of the Judaica aside, led to the foundation for some of my approaches to the world.
I read it and then largely moved on with my life for about a year. My friend wandered off once more and I have not spoken with him since. I hope he is well.
In 2007 or so, having taken a very enjoyable course on the history of Islam to the 1500s, I enrolled in a course on the history of Judaism from a lovely orthodox gentleman. He was very soft-spoken and straightforward, and deeply invested in the success of his students. There was palpable disappointment in his voice when I was unable to continue taking the course due to a conflict. Not that he was disappointed in me, but disappointed for me. He wished as badly as I did that I would have been able to continue.
Some year or so after that, I discovered Leonard Bernstein's third symphony, "Kaddish".2,3 This hit me in the face with a quick one-two punch of bittersweet grief and an internalization of Israel (that is, the one who had been named Jacob, as well as Am Yisrael, the people; not the political state or physical land) as the personification of one who wrestles with God. Back in my senior year of high school, concurrent with my friend's first absence, I plowed through Dan Simmons's Hyperion Cantos, and I saw much the same (in far clumsier terms) embodied in Sol Weintraub's character.
These things — the emanations that I read about in that book on Kabbalah, that kindly professor of Jewish history, "Kaddish" and Sol Weintraub — all stuck with me. They sat in my gut and lingered there. Often, I would not think of them. Sometimes, they would turn and some sharp corner would catch against my chest or abdomen and I would be left in a sort of spiritual pain for days and weeks. Sometimes they would swell and I would be cognizant of a pressure, not unpleasant, within me.
This is my first time admitting this publicly, but in 2016, I very nearly sought to convert. The reasons that I did not were complicated and very real at the time, though today, they feel a bit flimsy. This became something of a pattern, though I have yet to get quite so close as I did back then. Sometimes,4 it will cross my mind, but most often, I am happy in my inherited faith of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ mixed with the animism/panentheism that I linger within. I was happy with the paganism I followed for some time. I am happy with the Quakerism I have settled into these last few years (Quakers, on the other hand... But that is a topic for another time).
In some Christian theologies, there is a division of the aspects of belief into three or four. Three, as the Anglicans would have it: scripture, reason, and tradition. Four as the Methodists would have it: scripture, reason, tradition, and personal experience.5
This is a framework that fits well with a lot of other religions. In the case of Judaism, there is the scripture (the Tanakh), there is reason (the Talmud being an example), and there is tradition, which encompasses the holidays, the social aspects, as well as the rituals. If there is one thing that has kept me from following through with any plans to more deeply incorporate this into my life through conversion or otherwise, it is that, despite the overwhelming beauty that I see in them, I just do not know whether or not I would be able to keep up with the tradition. Observing the holidays, engaging with the social side of Judaism, participating in the rituals...it often feels overwhelming to me. It feels terrifying. It is an avenue for failure, a possibility of falling short of expectations. It feels terrifying. Would that I could never fail, never fall short of expectations...
And yet the overriding interest prevails. I dig deep into Jewish history. I engage frequently with the Tanakh. I wrap myself in Jewish thought. After all, a large chunk of my thesis was on Job, yes? And while there were some Christian fussings in there (hello, Gutiérrez), I largely leaned on Jewish sources, Jewish thought. This overriding interest is layered over much of my life, regardless of my ability to participate in the tradition without feeling like I am walking on thin ice over deep waters.
This is the reason for Michelle Hadje's Jewish identity. This is the reason for What Right Have I dumping all her autistic hyperfixation into her inherited faith in God. In my engagement with plurality, she is the embodiment of much of that part of my life,6 though Slow Hours shares in a small portion of it. She is the one who wraps herself in scripture and reason. She is the one who sees those millions of sparks within the world. She is the one who laughs about Rabbi Yirmeya getting told off by the sages for wasting their time. She is the one who takes comfort in Rabbi Elezar being told, "Go and tell the Artisan who made me, how ugly is this vessel of yours!" She is the version of me who is not terrified of failing at tradition, because she is brave and confident and proud in the ways I fear I am not.
I know that I requested IC asks, and this was not an IC response, but it is a response from What Right Have I.
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I have since rejected this outlook. I try to maintain more than one method of communication for those I am close to. I remember ICQ. I remember AIM. I remember MSN. I remember losing friends.
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There are several recordings of varying quality, and at one point the narration was changed, which did not sit well with me. This remains my favorite, and I think is a good default.
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As well as Schoenberg's "Kol Nidre", which left a different mark upon me. After all, my wifi password for many years was "Millions of sparks are hidden in our world.", a line from that piece's narration.
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As now, these last few weeks. If it lingers into next year, I may very well get in touch with Temple Beth Or to ask if I might at least visit.
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These nondenominational Christians who say they believe only the word of the bible, who follow only scripture, are quite frankly deluding themselves by saying they have no tradition, but I digress.
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You know, along with the autism :P