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Spirituality,
Culture, & Religion:
Confessions of a New York Jew
by Rabbi David Zaslow
December, 2002
Okay,
I admit it. I'm prejudiced! I'm a New Yorker and everything
New York is Jewish and everything out of New York is not-so-Jewish.
So Italians from New York are Jewish even if they're Catholic,
and Jews in Los Angeles are not-so-Jewish even if they're
Jewish. Bagels from New York are Jewish. Bagels in Ashland
are round chunks of chewy bread with holes in the center.
No self-respecting New Yorker would ever buy a jalapeno bagel.
My
wife, my holy Devorah outed me last month as an ethnocentric,
bialy-centric New Yorker who has a very distorted view of
the size of America. I remember a map they sold in New York
called "A New Yorker's View of America." New York
was huge (pronounced "youge" please) and the rest
of America was all shrunken. I should have bought it!
I
used to hear my parents talk about the "old country"
with sentimental yearning. When they would say something in
Yiddish and I'd ask them to translate they'd fumble for words
and finally proclaim, "You just can't translate this
into English. Words have a different meaning in Yiddish."
Of course, they meant that Yiddish was better than English
and it would be degrading to try to explain some nuance of
translation to me in such a cold and intellectual language
as English. I never understood.
Now,
32 years in Ashland I get it. There are things a New Yorker
can say that just cannot be translated. I understand Tony
Soprano even when he isn't talking. Body language, food, posture,
it's all part of the language. To me, New York is my old country.
Okay, New Jersey too. Philadelphia but not Pennsylvania. Not
Connecticut at all. Yonkers? Allright, Yonkers but not Brewster.
While Plains? Allright. White Plains too.
So
what is it about the culture we grew up with that gets into
our bones so deeply? I don't want to analyze this too deeply.
See my love for the Brooklyn Dodgers and hatred for the Los
Angeles Dodgers is really quite objective and based on facts.
I don't want some two-bit sociologist writing a paper on the
"relativity" of the teams we root for. It may be
true for other teams, but the Dodgers, the Brooklyn Dodgers,
are mythic not relative.
In
fact, the Dodgers are still in Brooklyn - that's how deep
my faith is. And Jackie Robinson lives! Maybe not on the physical
plane but in a higher dimension for sure. So when the Dodgers
actually do return tp Brooklyn (and the Giants return to the
Bronx for that matter), and they will, it won't be a shock
to New Yorkers. Okay, it will be a shock to Yankee fans, but
it won't be a shock to most other normal humans (pronounced
"yu-mans" please) from the Bronx, Queens, Manhatten,
Statin Island, or Brooklyn.
So,
"this is the bit," as my high school boxing coach
Enrie Spanokos used to say. It's dangerous to confuse culture
with morality. There's nothing innately good or bad about
living in Minnesota, Tuscon, Miami, or Brooklyn. Tribal wars
are started over the confusion of morality and culture.
Religion
is a system to organize spirituality. Each religion is like
a culture. This group stands. That group sits. This group
sprinkles with water. That group dunks in water. This group
is ecstatic. That group is passive. There' no good or bad
about it. It's all about personal preference. It's all about
style.
This
is not to say that style is not important. Believe me I'd
rather be dead than eat a jalapeno bagel. But jalapeno bagel
eaters (perish the thought!) do not have to repent on Yom
Kippor. They should. But they don't have to.
Religion
is the culture that organizes spirituality. But the essence
of any great religion is its spirituality, not its particular
ritual practices (i.e., we do Shabbos on Saturday, Christians
do Lord's Day on Sunday). Now, don't get me wrong I do not
want to merge spiritual practices any more than I want to
merge bagels.
But
beneath the religion, beneath the culture of the religion
is - spirituality: a deepening connection to God, a living
connection to the ancestors, a connection to history, and
a sense of profound hope for the future. How we get to these
sensations is the job of each religion. But how we get there
is not the place we're trying to get to.
Gabi
Meyer recently taught us about the difference between the
map and the land. I may like my map but my map is not the
earth itself. Judaism is my map. Judaism is my culture. The
Havurah is my culture. I am devoted to my culture for sure,
but the culture is not my goal. My personal connection to
God is my goal. My person to person connection to each of
you is my goal. If my Judaism helps me to get to God then
it is a good religion. If the Havurah helps me reach these
goals then its a good organization. And, last but not least,
if the Brooklyn Dodgers can get me to a game in Ebbets Field
then it is, indeed, the best team that has ever lived.
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