Yom Kippur 5779

We were fortunate in our area that the recent hurricane did not impact us at all. Originally the area was in a panic that a category 4 hurricane was heading straight for us and we were all doomed. The hurricane turned south and bashed the Carolinas with days and days of heavy rains.

For us, there was a light sprinkle after Kol Nidre services and then nothing for the rest of the week. I only attended services for Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur morning. My daughter was visiting and I chose to spend the afternoon and evening with her. We both successfully completed the fast together and then broke the fast together as well. It was lovely catching up with her. I'm still getting used to having three adult children.

Due to issues with my car I ended up taking Lyft to shul. I wasn't too happy about that and will try to get a new car soon to avoid the issue in the future. I don't like driving on Shabbat and yom tov in general and as I discussed last time, I will need to move to remedy this issue.

Once the car issues or living location is straightened out I will start going to Shabbat and as many minyanim as I can maintain. I think I've found where I want to sit each week and feel comfortable. Our shul has a series of beautiful stained glass windows all based on events from the Jewish liturgy and history. I sit next to "Jacobs Dream" and when I glance up I see "Joseph and his Brothers" in my field of view.

The monthly bulletin arrived in my mailbox this weekend. Mine was the most goyishe name in the list of new members, but at least it wasn't the only one. Pretty sure the list was pretty full of this year's conversion class "graduates."

It feels good to be back, but a lot of the same things that annoyed me ten years ago still annoy me. I prefer my cantors to be more "traditional" in the tunes and melodies they use and it looks like I'm not going to get that here for a while.

Another amazing thing is that a lot of the "kids" I remember being here when I first joined almost twenty years ago are now older than I was when I joined twenty years ago. The folks who were in their 40s back then are now the elder leaders in the congregation. That's just wild to me for some reason.

Hi, It's the Holy Days!

It seemed as if the High Holy Days came early this year, but as one online member of the /r/Judaism subreddit said, they're starting the same time as always, first of Tishrei. I guess the Gregorian months are late getting started this year. Either way, on the Tuesday after Labor Day I tore off the August page of my desk calendar and saw a month of highlighted holidays starting less than a week away.

This year I finally put together enough intestinal fortitude to confront my anxieties and contact the synagogue's office. I had a pleasant conversation with the shul's director and discussed the fact that I had indeed left a significant balance on my account when we stopped attending ten years ago. They were happy to give me a clean slate and start my new solo membership but I had to express my regret over the old past-due balance. It was agreed that if I felt morally obligated to address that balance I could make up for it by donating to the various charitable funds at the shul until it was "paid off" so to speak.

That conversation happened back in mid-August, and then I kept finding excuses not to stop by the office. That was until I saw that Rosh HaShanah was less than a week away. I quickly stopped by and dropped off my membership paperwork and picked up my tickets for Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur. It was great catching up with the director as she was a friend of ours when we attended regularly in the past.

This week I tried very hard to keep Yom Tov properly. I set the lights on timers and attempted to do things correctly. I even put a small throw blanket over the television to remind me not to use it. More than that, I guess it was to remind me if I used the television I was making a conscious choice to do so.

I woke up early and took a Lyft to shul. This was a combination of thoughts. Not wanting to take up valuable parking space was one, but more importantly not wanting to get a ticket for my expired car inspection. Eventually, I want to move into the same neighborhood as the shul so I can walk every day. I've already made note of two nearby apartment complexes and a very nice house. The apartments I can make happen as soon as my current lease expires, but the house would take a good sized lottery win. Then there's the issue with the quality of the apartments not approaching where I live now for the same price. Maybe no one else will pick 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42 on the next few lotteries.

I enjoyed Rosh HaShanah services well enough. I had my usual complaint that more people were there to catch up and have conversations than those who were there to pray. I did notice, however, that there were more empty seats than I ever remember seeing. My first year at High Holiday services here in 2000 was a packed house and we had to sit in the balcony. There were people on folding seats in the kiddush hall. This year there were maybe 10 people in the balcony and many empty seats in the sanctuary proper.

I fear this is part of the Conservative erosion I keep reading about and not limited to our shul. Already we have had to combine forces with our sister shul from across town in order to maintain a daily minyan throughout the summer. It appears this is a long-term arrangement and I see several flyers for joint programming events between the two congregations. It would make me very sad if we ended up having to merge congregations at some point (especially if I end up buying a house within walking distance of the shul that ends up being shuttered).

For whatever reason, I was set upon with overwhelming anxiety all night and only slept for about two hours. This lead to me just not feeling up to attending on the second day. I really wanted to go but I didn't feel adequately rested until about noon. I stayed home and tried to do some reading.

To make matters worse, we currently have a hurricane heading our way. The stores were a madhouse over the weekend and I failed to get supplies before Rosh Hashanah started and had to wait until the end of the second day. That's when I found out that my office was going to be shut down in preparation for the storm for the next few days so this will be a week at home.

I don't know why people can't understand my "out of office" message telling them I was off for the holiday. This obviously goes back to the differences in how Gentiles and Jews observe their holidays. More so, I guess, how the non-religious don't observe. When I say I will not have access to phone or email it means I will not have access to phone or email not "I will not have access unless you call at least six times."

Hopefully the storm will not be so bad and hopefully, I can get back on track with blogging more often. New year, right?

New Embassy, Who Dis?

An American president finally kept a campaign promise and moved the US Embassy to Jerusalem, and it had to be Trump. Nixon opened up diplomacy with Red China when he was president. Some argue it was one of a few good things to come from his corrupt presidency. I wonder how history will view this decision by Trump.

Of course there was immediate reaction from the Arabs living in Gaza. There are protests at the border and many people have been wounded or killed. The loss of human life is always regrettable, especially when it could be avoided. There are multiple generations of young men sent to their graves by old men making poor choices based on hate that was passed down to them. When troubles like these happen I am always reminded of a quote attributed to Golda Meir, "Peace will come when the Arabs will love their children more than they hate us."

Apart from the bloodshed at the border, what this week will again show us, as Jews, is that we are not truly welcome by either side of the American political spectrum. It is an ugly truth I have seen time and time again just in my lifetime, not to mention historically.

The Liberal Left do not want a strong Israel, if any Israel at all. The current trend on the Left is to cast Israel as the oppressor and take the side of the poor, down trodden Palestinians. Regardless of the historical reality of the situation and the 22 Arab states that surround Israel and would happily wipe Israel off the map. The Left is quick to ignore the Palestinian rockets coming from Gaza and only focus on the Israeli response to those rockets.

The Religious Right fully supports a strong Israel but deep down doesn't want the Jews. For them a strong Israel is another step in the return of their messiah. While some on the Right see the advantage of having a friendly democracy in the Middle East, many others are guided by their faith and messianic dreams. Once their messiah comes back the Jews will either convert or be cast into Hell with the Muslims and other non-believers.

Where does that leave Israel? In order to secure its borders and survive as a nation Israel takes support where it can get it. At the moment that means taking it from the American Right. That means overlooking the American Right's big tent full of Religious fundamentalist, White Supremacists, and End Timers. If Israel was to turn down this support, how long could Israel last as an island of democracy? Where would there be any other help?

More and more anti-Israeli outbursts in Europe are shown to actually be anti-Jew. Their are Nazis marching in American streets. Jews are afraid to identify as Jewish around the world. And through it all we survive, but for how long?

On top of it all we have to worry about Jews hating Jews. "You're not the right kind of Jew" or "You're not actually Jewish." Religious Jews arguing amongst themselves, secular Jews allowing their leftist ideas get in the way of supporting Israel. Maybe we need the Arab threat to keep us from fighting each other. Maybe we need the anti-Semitic threats around the world to remind us that without a strong, sovereign Israel we have no safe place to live long-term.

This is a long, rambling post today. I should have taken more time to research, spell check, and outline a draft. This was just raw feelings put to a page. 

Momma Always Said Kosher is as Kosher Does

As I try more each day to be more mindful of my Jewish observance level I find eating in restaurants to be more and more difficult. While I do not keep strict kosher when eating out, or at home for that matter, I have tried to work my way to that point.

At present I don't buy any prepackaged food to bring home unless it is marked as kosher by a recognized certifying agency. When I'm out of the house I eat "kosher style" and avoid pork, shellfish, and mixing dairy with meat. That is becoming more problematic as time goes on to the point I have started ordering fish or chicken and avoiding beef now.

Today I had a hamburger with lettuce and tomato and as soon as I bit into it I felt sick. Knowing the grill where the burger was prepared was probably covered in pork grease still makes my stomach turn. It seems that beef is now going to be off the menu as well and I will be sticking to chicken, fish, and salads while I am out and about.

I don't see chicken lasting much longer, at least not regularly prepared chicken. I have held for a long time that chickens don't give milk so why the restriction, but it is becoming harder for me to maintain that stance.

As crazy as it might sound to a younger version of myself, I can see restricting myself to a vegan diet while out and about. I'm not sure I will get to that point anytime soon, but it is not as unimaginable as it once was. 

As Long as We Remember

Today is Lag B'Omer but for me the significance of the day forever changed 18 years ago. It was the day before Lag B'Omer when my grandmother (A"H) passed away. I flew back home for the funeral, dealt with the racism of my uncles toward my mixed race daughter, and returned home. I haven't been back nor do I have any plans to ever return.

She was a great woman. She took me in as an infant and raised me as her own. Growing up with her on the farm, isolated from the world except for my time at school everyday, gave me a unique perspective on life and shaped me into the person I am today.

We were poor by any definition of the word, but we always had food on the table. I always had clean clothes for school, patched as they may have been. She taught me that we can survive through the darkest times. She taught me to always look for the brighter tomorrow.

I am who I am because Granny raised me to be me. So I light the candle every year on the day before Lag B'Omer and I remember. I remember because I hold in my heart that you are never really gone until the last time someone speaks your name, until no one remembers you. So I remember. 

Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right

I finally called my synagogue about renewing my membership. I called a week ago. It was around 4:00 PM, I had meant to call earlier but I had a day full of meetings. When I explained to the receptionist who I was and what I was calling about I was told that the person I needed to speak to had just walked in but they couldn't talk to me at the moment and she'd call me back when she had the time. I made sure they had my updated contact information and they hung up.

I'm sure they knew who I am. During our brief discussion I had mentioned I wanted to make sure there weren't any outstanding charges from our previous membership. The receptionist was able to pull up the names of my ex-wife and oldest son on the computer. So they have an idea of who we are/were.

Was it the Irish surname again? Did that throw her off? When she mentioned my ex-wife and son, I said, "Yes, that's my ex-wife and oldest son." Since my son still had his mother's previous name (which is passably more Jewish than mine) did the receptionist think I was the non-Jewish ex-spouse asking about membership? Is that why she and her co-worker are ignoring me? Is this what the kids call "ghosting"?

I'm more than a little frustrated by all of this. I'm hoping the office staff are truly busy and mean well, but unfortunately my mood lately has me thinking the worst of others.

If I wanted to be petty, I'd call them back and mention that the Conservative movement has been going through a few decades of implosion and they should be jumping at the chance to add qualified members. Maybe I should check out the Reform congregation just down the road from me, or the Modern Orthodox shul downtown? Both are considerably closer to me. Of course I don't think I would be happy with the Reform level of observance and I'm sure the Modern Orthodox wouldn't be happy with mine. So here I am, stuck in the middle with you.

Haters Gonna Hate

Of course, me being me, I choose to become more outwardly Jewish at the same time anti-Semites are choosing to become more public with their hate. I mean, why should being Jewish be easy, right?

When the FBI released its annual report on hate crime statistics for 2016, it showed that 54% of religiously motivated hate crimes were aimed at Jews. We're obviously not alone on the list and sadly, coming in at second, Muslims are victims of over 24% of reported hate crimes with the dubious distinction of increasing by 19% from the last report.

It always stuns me that there is so much hate for us when we barely make up less than 2% of the United States' population and 0.2% of the world's population. The total population of Jews on planet Earth has not yet reached its pre-Holocaust number.

Sometimes it's as if remembering that we Jews are still here and hated makes the mainstream uncomfortable. When the Nazis marched in the streets of Charlottesville there was far more emphasis on the anti-Black hate than the fact torch-bearing Nazis marched down US streets chanting "Jews will not replace us." Please don't take that as me trying to diminish Nazi hatred of African Americans, it appears Nazis have enough hate to go around. But it seems that anti-Jewish hate, for the most part, takes a back seat despite the hate crime statistics that show we are not forgotten by the haters.

The media has noticed a few instances of politicians with their passive anti-Semitism. From disgraced former judge in Alabama, Roy Moore, whose wife basically went with the old-time favorite of some of our best friends are Jews when she proclaimed at a political rally, "One of our attorneys is a Jew. We have very close friends that are Jewish." Granted it was later revealed the "Jew" she referred to was actually a messianic Jew, so there's that.

More recently, District of Columbia Councilman Trayon White made a stir. First, by claiming the Rothschilds control the weather after a surprise snow flurry in mid-March, and again a month later while visiting the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum and making some questionable comments. The story seems to be in progress as some are claiming his comments came from a place of honest ignorance and a desire to learn that were manipulated into a "gotcha" moment by a Washington Post reporter.  While that may be the case in the second event, it doesn't explain his recent donation to Louis Farrakhan and the Nation of Islam for an event where Farrakhan made his own recent anti-Semitic remarks. Granted, it should come as a surprise to no one that the Minister Farrakhan holds anti-Semitic views, considering his track record on the subject.

My hope is that Councilman White's disturbing comments come from his honestly not understanding anti-Semitism, but if that's the case it's troubling for other reasons. A recent survey revealed that two thirds of millennials didn't know what Auschwitz is, and 22% said they hadn't heard of the Holocaust or weren't sure if they had.  Those are disturbing numbers but explain why so many young people, like Mr. White, don't understand why this is such a big deal.

I get it if it's an honest moment of "I didn't know that" but my gravest fear is that it become, "I didn't know that and I still don't believe it."

The FBI hate crime statistics referenced at the beginning of this post were for calendar year 2016 and were released in November 2017. It will be interesting to see the numbers for calendar year 2017 when they are released this November. 2017 was the first full year of the Trump administration being in office. Sadly I expect the bad numbers to go up for everyone.

A Rosenstein by Any Other Name

Some days are better than others. Most days I don't even think about it, but then it gets shoved in my face and that's all I can think about. I'm talking about my surname, in all of it's Scots-Irish McGlory.

Invariably when introducing myself to a group of strangers there will always be one person who notices the disparity between my kippah and surname. Without fail I will get one of the following:

• Raised eyebrow (usually the minimum) 
• "Where do you daven/go to synagogue?" (more rare, but I think it's to check if I'm actually Jewish.)
• "Oh, is your mother Jewish?" (Not that I know of. Why, what have you heard?)
• "Oh, I didn't know that was  Jewish name." (Yet here I am.)
• "McSurname? What's with the yarmulke?"(Jews wear kippot, I'm a Jew.)
• "McSurname? Where'd the yarmulke come from?" (The Sisterhood gift shop at my shul.)
• "Did you convert to get married?" (No, actually my ex-wife converted after I did.)
• "Oh, so you're not really Jewish." (!קוש מיין אידישע טאָכעס)

I've thought about changing my legal name for many years. Recently I came across the name "Meyer" and it seemed like the perfect surname for me. I am of Scots-Irish and German heritage and "Meyer" is the one magical name that appears in Irish, German, and Jewish families. I'm sure I'd get past the bologna jokes eventually, but best of all I'd stop getting conversion shoved in my face and being made to feel "less than". 

I've mentioned this to my kids and ex-wife and they're of the mind to ignore the haters and keep my last name. I guess in a sense they are right. My issues with my name are mine and I shouldn't care what people think. But should and do are different words. I do let it bother me and I don't know how to get past it. On one hand I want to be bold and have a "deal with it" attitude. Any problem with my last name is your problem, not mine. While on the other hand, I feel like changing my surname would be the final step in shedding off my old life, albeit a quarter century after the process started. It would be the final embrace of my faith and people. 

But tomorrow I will wake up with the same name as today and I'm sure someone will raise an eyebrow or two and I'll still be Jewish at the end of the day.

And so it goes.

Stalled Journeys

Another year, another Pesach. It has been well over a year that I have been trying to reconnect with my Judaism. As can be witnessed by the dates of the posts here, documenting the journey hasn't gone that well either.


I've been wearing my kippah every day since Hanukkah 5777 (December of 2016, in case you don't want to check hebcal.com). This year my self-challenge was to start wearing tallit katan every day. That has been more of a challenge, but oddly enough it has had more to do with laundry and body heat than presenting as Jewish. Granted I generally tuck-in and don't wear the tzitzit out yet, or at least not out when I'm out. That's still a point of trying to avoid מַרְאִית עַיִן (marit ayin) and me doing something un-Jewish with my tzitzit out. Unlike covering my head with a baseball cap and going incognito, having a bunch of white strings tangling at your waistline is a little more obvious that something is up.




As for reconnecting with my community, I tried to start going to morning minyan again. You may recall last Pesach Sheni I decided to try to make the jump back into regular attendance. I spoke with the rabbi about rejoining the congregation and things seemed to be going okay, up until the next festival. Shavuot is a major festival on the Hebrew calendar but, from what I've ever witnessed in the local Conservative synagogues, it's not one of the "popular" holidays. It should be up there with Pesach and Sukkot. It celebrates G-d revealing the Torah to the nation of Israel at Sinai. I made a point to attend services that day and I regretted it.




I felt so out of place the entire time. It started out well enough I got a good seat, I got to be the magbiah and lift the Torah. Then, like an idiot, I accidentally mansplained what page we are on to the lady sitting next to me. Which wouldn't be so bad except I recognized her from my conversion classes 18 years ago. She and her husband had been friendly with my ex-wife and I back then but I guess we all drifted apart after my family moved away for awhile. I wanted to eat my shoe. 




After the service, I stepped back into the minyan room to grab my jacket and accidentally overheard the rabbi speaking to the elderly couple who run the daily minyan about how to handle a situation with a schnorrer. Were they talking about me? Were they talking about one of the other families who had joined us from a nearby smaller congregation? I had attended about a month's worth of morning minyanim but I had not yet spoken to the synagogue office about renewing my membership. I had been sure to drop a ten dollar bill in the tzedakah box each morning I attended (when most folks were dropping a dollar or a five spot at most). I felt mortified. 


At the luncheon after services I was relegated to sit with the other oddball non-member families at the table farthest from the rabbi. I had an overwhelming sense of not belonging. All of this on top of recently being outed by the rabbi as being a convert. To him it appeared to be an off hand comment, a fond memory from my conversion. We had joked at the time this was Conversion 2.0 as I had previously converted through the Reform movement and this was the "upgrade". But that was almost twenty years ago and I still hated being reminded of my conversion. 




It is my understanding that you shouldn't bring up a convert's past in general conversation. I'm stuck with a very obvious Scots-Irish surname that already causes plenty of people to raise an eyebrow and say, "I didn't know that was a Jewish name." To which I generally reply, "It is now" or "it's always been my name" as a deflection. I hate how I am immediately treated differently by Jews and non-Jews when it gets out that I converted. "Oh, so you're not really Jewish" has been heard from both sides and I honestly can't say which one bothers me more. 


Instead of addressing all of this with the rabbi, I did what I usually do and retreated inward. I just stopped going to minyan. I never called the front office about membership. I retreated back to my home version of Judaism. I have spent the last year watching videos about Jewish observance and reading as much as possible. I have two bookcases overflowing with Jewish reference books that I used to dig into every week. I'm thinking more and more about starting Daf Yomi and kick myself for not having this rejuvenation of Judaism before the current cycle started (August 3, 2012). I know I want to study Talmud, but I'm not sure if doing Daf Yomi isn't just an excuse for me to buy the Talmud set. (Side note, the set sold by Artscroll would look beautiful on my bookshelf but for $1800 I will likely just keep using Sefaria.)


But all of that and I haven't been back. I feel like I am a huge disappointment to the rabbi but at the same time I'm scared about my status as a convert. When he retires or (G-d forbid) passes away, who will remember that I am a Jew? Who will count me at a minyan? Will I be counted as a Jew in any other congregation I visit? I'm already worried enough that I'm pretty sure I can't make Aliyah to Israel due to the requirement of being active in a synagogue or community for the past year. Not that I am thinking of making Aliyah anytime soon, but it has always been a little reassuring knowing we have a safety net. 


Long story short (too late) I want to be more engaged in my Judaism. I am progressing in my daily observance at home. I took offense at a statement that probably wasn't about me and let it wreck my year. 


Now what?