Living Within Two Worlds
Also posted at TamaraEden
Living within two worlds is a challenge that many modern Jews face. Lately I’ve been noticing that living an observant Jewish life, even at the level of my and my husband’s observance, can be an interesting game of push and pull.
A little background for newer readers and for those of you who may not know me Jewishly. My husband and I consider ourselves serious and observant Conservative Jews. Neither of us were raised as halachic Jews although the two of us connect to our world and to Judaism differently, we are very much on the same page.
We honor Shabbat by not using TVs or computers. We don’t use the phone unless there is some BIG emergency or something odd that comes up. We drive, but only to synagogue and back. And, when we do go to our local synagogue or to a friend in the neighborhood, we walk. We try to always have plans for Friday night dinner and even if we stay home and do Kosher Pizza Relaxed Shabbat, we still put on clothes that are a little nicer. We still practice. We keep kosher to a pretty strict code. Our home is dairy only. We will only eat at non kosher restaurants if they are vegan or perhaps vegetarian. With family we are considerate and do eat vegetarian at their homes. The point is, we do consider ourselves observant on many levels. We both try to wash our hands doing “Netilat Y’dayim” when we wake and we incorporate other prayers slowly into our lives. Again, my point is to give you an idea of how we are observant.
So, what does a woman who loves teaching at a public school, who likes having both Jewish and non-Jewish friends, who is quite involved in programs at school which sometimes require time on the weekends do when “things” come up? What do I do when faced with a non-Kosher pizza at a meeting?
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this lately. I believe that in many ways living an observant Jewish life as a Conservative Jew is more of a struggle than simply being Orthodox or Reform. I’m not saying one is better or worse than than the other so hear me out before you get out your fangs. Here is my line of thinking.
A person who is born into an Orthodox family is “used to” doing Mitzvot. They are used to being Shomer Shabbat. They are used to not mixing meat and milk. They are used to so many of the things that many people who are closer to the Reform side of Judaism perhaps take for granted. Now, I am not bashing Reform. Trust me, if I was this post would be more along the lines of the one that actually triggered my husband and I meeting. Go figure! For the record, both he and I have grown immensely since that post. 
Back on track…You see, a Conservative Jew lives in the mainstream world, at least I’m speaking for myself. I go to meetings at work where food is served. Recently there was a farewell party for a dear colleague of mine. Pizza from the best local pizza joint was ordered. They even ordered my favorite, Tomato Basil. As all my colleagues and friends savored this delicacy, I ate my Tofurky and Cheese sandwich. Since Halloween, another committee I’m on has had candy at our meetings. While everyone munches on Candy Corn, I just watch. (honestly, I don’t care for Candy Corn, but there is a point here).
Besides the food issues that come up at work, other things happen. Recently there was a VERY important meeting on a Saturday. I did something that is wrong as far as keeping the Sabbath goes, I drove to the meeting and attended. However, I ate breakfast at home. I brought my own snacks. What did everyone else eat? Sizzling bacon, eggs, potatoes, toast…this was at a Sheraton hotel which means good eats! In many ways I feel like I’m “different” when I do these things. However, at the same time I’ve had some colleagues acknowledge that they weren’t sure if the food was kosher and even go as far as to ask if they could get me something specific. Which frankly, I am grateful for. Not that I’ve taken them up on the offer yet, but the thought speaks volumes.
Now I have a new dilemma. The longer I go being observant, although sometimes challenging, I’m coming up with creative ways to “fit in” and be a part of the secular world, and my career, which I love so much. There is a conference I want to go to in February. As the head of a program at school, it’s important I go. The problem? It runs from Thursday morning to Saturday afternoon. It’s out of town. It’s about $500 per employee to go including fees, hotel, and per diem pay. My school is willing to pay! But, will they pay if I can’t attend the whole event? Do I have to, yet again, explain why I can’t go? What to do?
AHA! I’m learning! I’m going to suggest/request to my school that I still go, but that I will leave Friday afternoon so that I can make it home in time for Shabbat. Sure, I want to stay for the whole thing. And, if I skip it because of Shabbat I’d feel like I’m not only missing out but the missing out can cause bitter feelings which I’d like to avoid. So, compromise is feasible.
I’m learning to compromise. I’m learning to embrace both worlds I walk in. I’m learning to find solutions. I’m learning that the beauty of Shabbat can be a part of my non-Jewish world and that my non-Jewish world doesn’t have to hinder what Judaism is, what it can be, and its significance in my life.
Walking in these two worlds is challenging. I don’t have one extreme or the other to look to; but I do have conviction and beliefs and these help make all these struggles, all these pushes and pulls, of even greater meaning and value in my life.
How do you handle your Jewish life in your non-Jewish society? I’d be interested to hear the opinions of commentors from all levels of observance. Thanks for reading my long ramble.
I feel very strongly the dilemma this post refers to regarding career and activities on Saturday. I am a political science professor, and while one might immediately think that’s a Monday-Friday job if there ever was one, think again. My school has its graduation on Saturday afternoon and has various pre-ceremony activities on the Friday night before. OK, so that is only one weekend out of the year, but what to do? In 2007, I decided not to go, because of Shabbat. No one asked why I was not there, and I did not say. I just was not there. I was at shul or at home or visiting with members of the congregation, as I strive to do every Shabbat.
I was also not there in 2006, but for a different reason. There was a conference in another city across the continent. It seems like almost all conferences in my profession include Saturday meetings. I went to this one, because it was one of the most important conferences I could ever participate in for my specific area of research. Not sure how many of these I will go to in the future, but surely I will have to go to some like the one in June, 2006. Not “have to” as in ordered by some authority to do so. But it’s my career. I need to keep up with the latest research, and I need to present my own in order to receive comments and maintain and advance my standing in the profession. And usually I can’t control when they take place (though when I am organizer, you can bet there will be no Saturday meetings). In fact, I was just assigned a Saturday morning time slot at a conference in March, in my city. I had planned to go to these meetings, but be gone by Friday afternoon. I have not made up my mind yet as to what I will do, now that I was given a Shabbat-conflicting time slot. I am leaning towards withdrawing from participating. But it is not an easy call for me.
Finally, this post uses the concept of “levels” of observance. I reject that framing. I do not think that Jews who observe in ways that I do not (like keeping kosher, avoiding TV or the local farmers market on Shabbat, etc.) are on some higher plane that I am on. I do not think those people would be descending–lowering themselves to my inferior level of Jewish observance–if they started watching TV on Shabbat or whatever.
I like the concept of “modes” of observance instead. Otherwise, we progressive Jews are simply allowing ourselves to be defined–indeed defining ourselves–by what we do not do, rather than by what we do. In fact, I stole that last line from Tamara’s husband, from a conversation we had when he was first inviting me to participate in this blog.
Hey Tamara
Great post! Not just because yours truly is mentioned in it, but because it’s a kind of benchmark that reflects how far we’ve come in terms of our individual identities as Jews as well as, a Jewish couple. Seriously it of highlights how we’ve made that switch from the perception where it’s perfectly OK to try and fit Judaism into our lives to one where the appropriate course of action, is trying to fit our lives into Judaism.
Nice post and thanks for the link to that first post that started everything between you and me. It’s fun being able to go over that stuff and see how much we’ve changed and influenced each other over the last year and a half.
To AviSalom
Nice comment you’ve posted here. It is both thoughtful and in my opinion honest.
You said:
Finally, this post uses the concept of “levels” of observance. I reject that framing. I do not think that Jews who observe in ways that I do not (like keeping kosher, avoiding TV or the local farmers market on Shabbat, etc.) are on some higher plane that I am on. I do not think those people would be descending–lowering themselves to my inferior level of Jewish observance–if they started watching TV on Shabbat or whatever.
I have a few thoughts on the above (which is probably of no surprise to you) and would like to share them.
First is that you are right in terms of saying such people are not on a “higher plane” when approaching this concept of ” levels/ladder of observance” from the Reform pov, in which Halacha is nonbinding and personal choice/autonomy is the prime directive. Working from within such a loose (and I don’t mean that in a derogatory way) framework, you’re absolutely right in saying that more complete ” traditional” observance does not reflect superiority in any way.
However there is indeed a Catch-22 here in that when one rejects the halachick framework as binding or the primary mode for expressing Judaism in praxis, you are opening yourself up to being rejected by those who embrace the very system you are rejecting. Basically because by rejecting it you are rejecting them and their understanding of what it is to live Jewishly. I’m not trying to suggest which one is right or wrong in the grand scheme of things. However you obviously know which side of the fence I fall onto with regard to this particular issue.
This post is obviously written from the perspective of someone approaching Judaism from a conservative point of view which obviously means that Halacha is indeed binding and is therefore a (relatively) objective measuring stick that one can use, at least in terms of observance. So basically if we’re working from with in the Conservative idiom there is indeed a ladder of observance which places certain people higher than others. But only in terms of halachick observance, therefore all interested parties should take care not to confuse, being higher on the ladder of observance, with being on a higher spiritual, ethical or even Jewish level. Halachick submission/observance does not necessarily equal being a better person. However it’s certainly does seem to imply being a better Jew, when one believes observance of Mitzvot is what it means to be a Jew. But that shouldn’t matter to anyone who rejects the halachick framework, becuse they clearly defined Judaism and what it means to be a Jew differently than those who are committed to Halacha . I think it’s one of those issues (maybe not at the institutional level but hopefully at an interpersonal one) where people just have to agree to disagree and look for other similarities and points of connections between one another.
You also wrote:
I like the concept of “modes” of observance instead. Otherwise, we progressive Jews are simply allowing ourselves to be defined–indeed defining ourselves–by what we do not do, rather than by what we do. In fact, I stole that last line from Tamara’s husband, from a conversation we had when he was first inviting me to participate in this blog
I’t brings up an excellent point and I did indeed say those words and in all honestly it’s something I still think about a lot in terms of what it means to be an “observant” Jew. I would like to add a few more thoughts on this but this comment is already way too wordy, so I think I’m going to save this as the topic for my next post.
Thanks for bringing your insight and perspective to the discussion because I think you bring up some important points and highlight an area that probably needs to be looked at in more detail. I know that personally it points out how important it is, not to let one’s own theological understanding and practice turn in to a measuring stick that is unfairly superimposed across-the-board. Not that I think Tamara has done this in any way with her post. Just that it’s important to keep in mind because at least speaking for myself, it’s an easy trap to fall into
Avi, thanks for a great response!
One thing I want to key in on:
you are opening yourself up to being rejected by those who embrace the very system you are rejecting.
Yes, I am. And, frankly, I do not see that as a problem. I reject some of their “modes” for myself. I don’t reject their choices for themselves. And I made the choice to be a progressive Jew, and to convert under the auspices of a Reform (and, I might add, openly lesbian) rabbi in the full knowledge that my conversion would not be accepted by all Jews. (And, of course, my rabbi would not be accepted as such by all Jews, and that is their loss, because she is an amazing scholar and spiritual leader.) The choice was right for me, and frankly, that is all that matters to me.
I consider myself a full member of the Jewish community, and I embrace all (well, almost all) strands of that larger community. Is the embrace reciprocal? No. And that is unfortunate, but it is not something that I worry about, because, as I said, I made the choice I made because it was right for me and for the progressive community I was joining and being embraced by.
By the way, I think it is very important for anyone considering conversion to be aware of these issues. And I think it is also very important for anyone who has converted through Reform auspices not to misrepresent himself or herself. In other words, know and respect what you are rejecting by not committing to keep kosher in the strictest way or to refrain from TV or driving on Shabbat, etc.
(And sorry about not posting more often!)
Hi everyone,
I wasn’t thinking of posting replies tonight but then Avi asked me if I was going to. I’m so tired from a few long days in a row. Tonight I met with 20 parents of students…back to school night….
But, I love you all so much that I wanted to reply…
AviShalom: First, glad to know I’m not alone in the managing within the great world thing. It’s hard and forces us to make decisions that sometimes may go against one set of beliefs but supports others (such as a belief and commitment to one’s career). I think, for me right now anyway, the most significant thing is that I make a true effort to observe and am concientious of when my choices break that.
In regards to the “levels of observance” thing…I don’t believe the levels as a hierarchy. Flip the high and low to a parallel line. Some people are in one place, some are in another. I mean, truly, my message imo seemed clear and semantics are not as significant as the point I was making. I, by no means, consider myself a “better than” or a “less than” Jew when comparing to others. As a matter of fact, it’s a dangerous line to walk when we compare who we are with what others are perceived to be. Reminds of the famous Hillel quote
Avi: I’m glad you liked my post. It’s reassuring because I feel like my posting has been lax and shlock lately. Glad others found value in it. I also agree that it’s fun to look back at some of those early blogs that we both wrote. If I may be mushy for a moment…some of your earlier posts used to make me all teary and stuff.
I love you.
I like Tamara’s “parallel lines” analogy, but if one really means that, then one can’t meaningfully speak of “levels” of observance. Levels definitely convey higher and lower, and thus hierarchy.
Another slight problem with the parallel lines idea is that parallel lines never intersect. At least one can move from one level to another!
As for the juggling of observance and work, well, I spent a few hours this past Shabbat grading exams. I am not proud of that. Did not like doing it. But it sure feels good to have them out of the way. Sometimes you’ve just got to do it…
I often also have conflict between work and my observance. I teach high school—when I direct a play, one of the nights HAS to be on a Friday (school policy). I also go to quite a few professional conferences. The way I’ve dealt with that has been by researching synagogues in the area of the conference and going to them if at all possible. It isn’t ideal, but it allows me to look at other synagogues, and it allows me to perform my professional activities, as well. Good luck.
In the past (before I became more observant) I would work on Saturdays if there was no other choice. I worked in social services in areas where the agencies were open 24/7/365. Now that I have become more observant, I refuse to work on Saturdays. Fortunately, my current job does not require me to work weekends and I can work early hours so I can get home in time for Shabbos.
There are constantly goodies and the occasional party at work. Everyone in my department and my former department knows that I do not eat the non-kosher food and I do not participate in the holidays party or the halloween party. The people I work with (including my supervisor and manager) are fine with my decisions.
Do I feel like an outsider? Yes. We are commanded to not be like the other nations. I chose to become a member of the tribe which means that I chose to be different.