And I Entered Wearing Tefillin

Someone, via email, has asked about my wearing tefillin.

I am sure that there are some women and men out there who can spout out halachic chapter and verse and variants. I know there are those out there who perceive the whole thing in academic terms. I also know that some approach it in intellectual terms, as in-- I am gonna put on the tefillin and I will report back to you my observations and the laws encompassing the entire issue.

Pardon me if I don't get it. Just put the things on and surrender. This is not to criticise the approach of others (well, okay, some of it is) as much as to say that sometimes we live in our heads at the expense of experimenting with experience-that is, placing our hearts in the hands of something greater than ourselves and following what unfolds. (Of course, I am assuming a lot here. I am assuming an interest in, and struggle with, halacha, and a serious and essential connection to mitzvot as a way of life.)

Ironically, unlike tefillin, it took me an entire year after my conversion to feel worthy enough to wear a tallit. That, and my search for the tallit that I dreamed about, the tallit I finally found; it was bashert. My tallit has the most beautiful tzitzit, a Sephardic twist (early macrame, who knew?). Some may argue that it is a man's tallit, but for me it is the tallit of my dreams, one in which I envelop myself, it is a garment of light. The first time I put it on in shul, I knew I was home. Heck, it gave me warm fuzzies as well!

I did not consider tefillin. Tefillin were thrust upon me.

I was attending morning minyan almost every day. I happened upon a woman who was wearing tefillin. The temple has extra pairs and she indicated to the rabbi that I was willing. I was not willing! I had no idea!

Yet, I found the the rabbi explaining to me the ins and outs of tefillin, outside the beit midrash (house of study)while morning prayers had commenced. He had to change the knots to accommodate my left-handedness. He recited the blessings. And I entered wearing tefillin.

When the rabbi placed the shel rosh (the box that sits on the head) on my head, I went into another world. It is hard to describe. I knew I was meant to wear tefillin. It changed everything. Yes, you rationalists and skeptics and halachic purists out there, it did change everything. I was home. I was amazed. Oh my, it felt like a coronet. I felt noble. It is another world of nobility, not this world, but G-d's world. It confers dignity.

I remember a tussle I had with the gabbai a while into wearing tefillin. I stopped wearing a kippah when I wore tefillin. Why? Because I felt that it was overkill (and I also knew halacha). When you are wearing the coronet, it is enough. I have no idea of what it is like for guys, but for me as a woman, the shel rosh confers dignity.

The rabbi did his mara d'atra (teacher of the community) thing and ruled that according to the Conservative movement, women do not have to wear headcovering/kippah (and he gave an eye-opening history of kippah use). The gabbai's opening salvo was that if you want to "be like a man" then you have to adhere to the rules. I was getting into a huge, nasty argument with him (oh, puleeze, like I ever thought about the "man" thing, yeah some of us don't) given after that statement when the rabbi intervened. Somehow, tznius entered into the mix. I recall saying that I am modest and that modesty was not a question! The result was that I do not wear a kippah while wearing tefillin. Yes, even on the bimah, but that just may be tolerance on the part of everyone else. Still, I love them for it.

I was also bound on my arm. Oh my! If you want psychological analysis, go to it! The binding made me nuts! I felt so freaking bound, and it was so agitating, I can't begin to tell you. For me, the head part was not a matter of will, but the arm part was. I was beside myself. Wanting to align myself with G-d, yet at the same time, questioning, agitating, basically pitting my will against G-d's. Truly. I bound my arm, the box was directed at my heart, but I chafed bigtime at it. Chafed and chafed and chafed.

It took another year.

Now, the arm binding is intimate. I get it.

I have been privileged to wear tefillin throughout the day, while studying. I have been privileged to wear tefillin.

In the end, tefillin, for me, are a spiritual transformer. I remember a lovely older woman who came to say kaddish at morning minyan. She said, "Tefillin is for men. Why do you wear them?" I answered that they helped me to focus (and she accepted it); when you are brought out of yourself to answer, you don't have time to dissemble. For me, tefillin act as a transformer, like the mishkan. They help one directly and intensely connect with G-d; they magnify and sanctify prayer and connection. At the very least, they can provide focus; that is their service. And, just as importantly, they can confer dignity- they elevate your being and your soul. And their elaboration and weight are given witness by a roomful of people wearing tefillin, a testament to G-d's wisdom and love. Even though some people may feel like clowns wearing this stuff- the connection is there, binding us up in the bond of eternal Life, in something greater than ourselves. It's not really more complicated than that.

Far more than an obligation, tefillin are an explicit gift from G-d, via the Torah. A total and amazing gift, a way to directly connect with Him and with each other. I can't imagine my life without them. And I can't imagine not being able to lay tefillin, even when I am alone, in a room, with no access to my fellow Jews and feeling terribly disconnected and lonely; it is a comfort because I can still connect with something greater than myself. I would do it in my dreams, given the power.

How To Lay Tefillin (Video)

Chosen

Here is a thought that I keep with me always. I don't know where I read this so I have no attribution:

G-d does not choose the qualified;
G-d qualifies the chosen.

I wonder what that says about our lives, personally. And what does that say about us as Jews?

All You Need Is Love?

Yehoshua Karsh, in his thoughtful blog, raises an interesting question (among many):

Imagine that you believe G-d doesn't love you. What would prayer be like? What if you believe He loves you, but doesn't like you, or He's not happy with you, what would you feel when you enter a synagogue?

First of all, the question was not asked about whether you love G-d or not. I think it matters. Without a positive response, the other answers are not particularly relevant. In my case, I do love G-d. 'Nuff said, and the Shema resonates for me, bigtime.

Having established the parameters, I neither believe G-d loves me or does not love me- I simply have no idea. I would like to think that He does but perhaps that is wishful thinking. In fact, for me, the question of love rarely arises, because somehow, I don't think that love is the answer.

Yet, when the question does arise, sometimes, I do imagine that I have been abandoned by G-d. What would prayer be like? It is important to stress that I would, first of all, continue to pray (as I do). What would it be like? It would be like it always has been, but with a lot of cursing (and has been).

If I felt that He loved me but at that point He didn't like me, well, then I would challenge Him and feel rather vexed.

If I felt that He loved me but that He was not happy with me, then I would be irked and wanting to know more, and hoping to get on His good side.

If I believed that G-d loved me, but He was in some manner disappointed in me- how would I feel when I enter a synagogue? I would feel remorse, I would do teshuva, I would try harder, I would be grateful for sanctuary. I would feel close. I would feel reverence. I would have hope. Whoa, this sounds like the answer!

On the other hand, if I thought that the Covenant gave me the right to challenge G-d, love doesn't have whole lot to do with it, which is probably where I stand.

Why does all this matter? It matters because belief and decision are the basis for all behaviour. It also matters because those Jews who are just trying to survive and don't have the luxury of asking these questions, simply live the answers.

Israel: Jewish Delight

It seems so naive and simplistic, but when I arose from the mikvah the whole world opened for me. I remember feeling, the last barriers between me and all Jews and Judaism simply.... melted, simply ceased to exist. And I was standing in line waiting for the festive conclusion of a truly amazing day, at the Skirball Museum cafe, and realising...

That from now on the whole world was open to me. That wherever I went, there would be a Jewish home. That all cemeteries and Jewish buildings and Jewish land and Jewish communities were mine. I could wander wherever in the Diaspora and there would be Jews and home. And there is no doubt of my love for it all.

And one of my dreams, which I thought would never happen, is to roam the world and to visit all the ancient and not so ancient synagogues. Land me in any synagogue and I will be hard pressed to not fall in love. So here is my dream come true. And in Eretz Yisrael, of all places! So absolutely sweet!

Talmudic Times, Qasrin

Ari Shul, Tzfat (Safed)

Ner Tamid

Abuhav Synagogue, Tzfat

Tunisian Synagogue, Acco

Caro Shul, Birthplace of Shulchan Aruch

Covenantal Blues

I am the very model of a modern gerish Jewish girl
I've information agadah, halacha, and mustache twirl
I know chazal and who's gedol, and I quote avot historical
From stumbling blocks to floating skulls, in order most methodical.

I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters problematical,
I understand invasions, both vexing and emphatical.
About K'lal Israel, read- Jews, I'm teeming with a lot o' news
With many cheerful facts about brit-covenantal blues.

With many cheerful facts about brit-covenantal blues...

Stolen Adapted from the Pirates of Penzance

I am walking to the library, through a tall stand of evergreens. The earth undulates and cushions my feet- aaaah. The silence is G-d speaking. Oh, I love the silence! Small daisies carpet the ground. They hold the fragrance of meadows.

I wander by a small creek, so clear and therefore so fascinating. It reminds me of my childhood, playing by the river bank, in the light, in the warmth, in the wondering.

Well, I think about G-d all the time and my purpose in this life. I have a very unsettled life, materially and emotionally (unlike some bloggers who have the luxury of delving into minutiae, oh I wish!). So, I was thinking about the Covenant. I was thinking about tikkun olam (repairing the world). I was thinking about what we agree to when we become partners in the Covenant. It is not enough to be born into it, IMO, because if you don't know what you've agreed to, then how can you live your life accordingly? And tradition does not cut it, it's a lazy answer.

When I converted I took on the "yoke" of Torah (though I sometimes think the 'yoke' is not Torah, but Jews). But I also entered the Brit (Covenant). I know, as much as it is humanly possible for me to know, what I agreed to. Being a "light unto the nations", following G-d's laws, loving G-d as stated in the Shema, striving to be "humanly holy", living a Jewish life and Jewish ideals. For me, Judaism is not part of my life, but my entire life; my life and behaviour, however imperfect, are dictated by the Hebrew calendar, the festivals, Jewish living, the complete embrace of Shabbat and always, always, the desire, the waiting for, the preparing for, the longing for, Shabbat.

So, Shabbat scooped up and enveloped the day, and it was a perfect and most beautiful day where beauty surprised me wherever my eyes alit; it was as if seeing things for the very first time. I said the bracha (blessing) for encountering Beauty, though I don't know the Hebrew ending of it, so I say it half in Hebrew and half in English, while my next step is to learn the Hebrew. It's interesting that I say this bracha so often. I think it is because I so love beauty. I imagine someone else may often say brachot for veggies, or trees or rainbows, or cake (rabbinic origin). It's a mindfulness, but you really don't have to know that- you just need to find the blessing that gets you going. And mine is Beauty. I thank G-d for beauty!

And I was wondering, this Shabbat- I know a little of how I approach the Covenant, I made a deal, I swore, I feel responsible for my part in it. And I was wondering...heck, what is G-d's part in it? Like, what is He doing, what is He moving towards, why do we need a Brit, what's in it for us with Him as partner? I know what I am doing, and He knows what I am doing, but I don't know at all what He is doing. If the Brit requires faith and trust, what is the object? I realise, I really don't know. All I know is that I am, as humanly possible, trying to do my bit.

And so, unpuzzle me this- in this day and age, what is G-d's participation and share in the Brit? What is the point?