Musings on Judaism

613 commandments and a killer recipe for chicken soup.
I haven’t posted a ton on Judaism, but there have been a few posts over the last couple of years. Many have been about my struggles with it as a culture, a religion, and (most of all) as an identity. Last month, I posted about a panel discussion I’d taken part in, the goal of which was to build bridges in the queer and Jewish communities. I said at the time I’d like to speak more with the Rabbi who was on the panel, and this past week I finally had the chance.
We talked a bit about my show and queer issues within Judaism (more on that later) but the bulk of our time was spent discussing the frustrations I’ve found with Judaism as a religion. Specifically, the huge amount of tension I feel between horrible acts of slavery, sexism, genocide, hatred, murder, and xenophobia which are exalted in the Torah and the wonderful traditions of social justice, equality, women’s rights, and free-thinking I was taught growing up at synagogue.
In short, how do you reconcile that which seems irreconcilable? And why would you want to?
Rabbi Edwards started off by agreeing that, yes, this is an important and legitimate question, which was something of a relied. Many of the responses I’ve received when bringing this topic up are along the lines of, “Yup. That’s tricky.” (Indeed, at the panel discussion in June, I felt Rabbi Edwards going in that direction once or twice.) He also didn’t try to use what I feel is a real cop-out, that “we need to judge it within the framework of the time it was written.” That’s true, to a point, but I can simultaneously laud the virtues of the Founding Fathers in the US while also condemning them for their racist and sexist shortcomings.

27 ammendments and, surprisingly, another recipie for chicken soup.
Indeed, the US Constitution is my favorite analogy for my troubles with the Torah. The Constitution has sexism and racism enshrined in its very words, but it also has an explicit process of amendments to allow for mistakes to be corrected and changes to be made. Whereas the Torah doesn’t have such a built-in process of updating or revising. As I said to Rabbi Edwards, I’d feel much better about everything if there were a sixth book of the Torah where God said, “Slavery is out, women’s rights are in!”
“But the Torah does allow for that,” replied the Rabbi. “The Talmud is just such a document, and its existence means we are allowed to question and probe the contents of the Torah. This is not an unchangeable code of law; it’s a framework, subject to real-life conditions.” He continued, talking about historical precedent for reading the Torah as a living text, something that connects us as Jews to a historical tradition without imposing nitty-gritty details of behavior or living.
I have to admit, Rabbi Edwards response was the first time in years that I’ve been able to rethink religious Judaism. I don’t feel like anyone else has so clearly said, “Not only are we allowed to interpret the Torah, we’re encouraged to do so!” It’s possible that I never got to that level of academic study in Hebrew School, bailing as I did after my Bar Mitzvah, but I didn’t really feel like that sort of textual deconstruction was something coming around the bend. And the Rabbi openly admitted that he’d never though of the problematic nature of having the Torah hold such a holy place in Judaism if it’s not supposed to be venerated. How can you encourage free thought while also having such pomp and ceremony around the storage, handling, and presentation of the Torah?
(I do think it’s possible to do so, it just requires a more explicit act of encouraging questioning and debate.)
More poetically, Rabbi Edwards encouraging me to think of the Torah as a seed or kernel out of which Judaism has grown and expanded, rather than a constraining or restricting text. He said that even the most Orthodox Jews, considered to be the most strict and literal interpreters or Jewish law, are not going to suggest bringing back slavery, even though the Torah allows for its existence. So, said the Rabbi, even the most literal-minded Jews are still interpreting the Torah and choosing how to live by its teachings.
Which sort of brought the conversation back to a question of what is imposed and what is chosen or interpreted. I said that, above and beyond the religious teachings, Judaism got off on the wrong foot with me due to its imposition of gender at my Bar Mitzvah. That, no matter what it had taught, it still would have been forcing an identity onto me which was not my own. Rabbi Edwards said, “Yes, but doesn’t all culture do that?”
“Absolutely. Which is only why we should work to change it, not why we should accept it.”


Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I love that you are thinking about the same things that I am at the same times, regarding Judaism. You’re much more eloquent at writing them out, and it’s really making me think about the things I’ve been trying not to think about.
I especially like your little comment at the end about changing culture. The cultural Judaism is what’s been bothering me lately. The religious part, well, I fell out of favor with that years ago, but I’ve been trying to hold on to the culture, and not doing well. And I think a lot of the reasons for that are what you’ve mentioned both in this and in previous posts. I just wish more people were so progressive in trying to move the culture forward.
Thanks! I’m glad to hear I’m not the only one thinking along these lines…
What about cultural Judaism has been bothering you? I feel like that’s always been the part I’ve been the most comfortable with.
Well, a lot of the religion and the culture are so intricately intertwined (say that three times fast), that sometimes it’s hard to separate the religion from the culture. So when I see flaws in the religion, I in turn, see flaws in the culture. Like even something as simple as when the WOMEN light the candles. As a masculine woman, would I be counted among them? Would you?
It’s not the culture itself, it’s that the culture brings me full circle to the religious, which I can’t reconcile with being a woman, let alone, being queer, among other reasons I no longer practice the religious aspect.
Does that make any sense?
Absolutely. Thanks for the clarification, and sorry we’re both struggling with some of the same things. =/
Beautifully said. I have the same struggles with Judaism without the luxury of a religious education as a child. I do find our culture to be rich and our heritage is one that must be remembered however I have great difficulty with much of the religious undertones. The first time I had a glimpse of accepting Judaism as more than my history was reading David Cooper’s God is a Verb. It describes a more mystical version of Judaism and explains familiar parts of it in a way I am better able to grasp.
Welcome, Vegetarillin, and thanks for the comment.
I’ll have to check out God is a Verb.
I think one of my very favorite stories in Judaism is Jacob wrestling with the angel.
It is only through wrestling with God that Yakov became Yisroel. And this repeats as a theme all through Jewish scripture. Willingness to voice my discomfort with certain aspects of scripture and tradition is ironically a big part of my own Jewish identity.
I’m realizing more and more how important that questioning (wrestling) is in Judaism, and how important it is to me.
I find the older I get the more I identify culturally as a Jew. Maybe this is because we all try to find to our roots as we get older. Who knows.
Anywho here is a website I found as I was surfing
http://www.tabletmag.com/
[...] isn’t a new train of thought for me. In Biblical times, God was walking with prophets, appearing in bushes and rainbows and voices from [...]