As Published in The Jewish Advocate (Boston, MA)
Vol. 203 No. 36, September 7, 2012
When faith hits a roadblock
There’s a saying: Anyone less religious than you is a heretic, anyone more religious than you is a fanatic. My wife and I have traveled the spectrum. We were both born Jewish. I was raised Reform, my wife less-than-Reform. Throughout our lives, my wife and I have always felt “the Jewish spark,” a yearning that means more than eating lox and bagels or going to synagogue once a year.
Rosh Hashanah is a time to reflect upon where this Jewish spark is going, and whether this spark is waning or finding a renewed path, both in life and towards G-d. It’s important to look where we came from to inform the uncertain path that lies ahead. My path, and that of my wife, has hit some serious roadblocks, and as a result our Jewish observance has slowed down and perhaps even driven in reverse. On the other hand, maybe this is a necessary detour, and the detour itself becomes the main thoroughfare. You be the judge.
First, some background. The initial meeting between my wife and me was at a Shabbat meal at a campus Hillel House in a mid-size Midwestern city. It took some pursuing her, but we were wed a year later. We grew spiritually, becoming more observant, eating kosher inside the home and attending services every Shabbat.
Six years ago, our son was born and we decided to keep kosher outside of the house as well (much to the chagrin of my parents). We thought it best to be consistent and not send mixed messages to my son with regard to keeping kosher. Bear in mind, in the city where we live, there are no kosher restaurants.
For the following six years, we increased our religious observance, my wife wearing long skirts and a sheitel, I wearing a yarmulke 24/7. Tefillin, glatt kosher meat, mikvah, Torah studies – all importantly incorporated into our daily lives.
Amid the increased observance were immense challenges, especially regarding our child. We love our child and wouldn’t trade him for anything, but our son has presented, and continues to bear very difficult medical and behavioral issues. How could this be? We did everything right – kosher, Tefillin, Torah studies, etc. It’s the eternal philosophical question of why bad things happen to good people and its relation to reward and punishment.
I asked a mentor of mine, a Hasidic Jew and doctor, about this conundrum. My mentor has three special needs kids of his own and is my inspiration. He explained that in Judaism, we don’t expect things from G-d because we are deserving of it –that’s not a Jewish way of thinking (e.g., I kept kosher, so now I deserve a healthy child). According to my mentor, we can ask G-d for our needs, our wants, but if these needs come to fruition it’s completely a gift from G-d, not based on whether or not we deserve it.
Still, my faith is shaken. As of a few weeks ago, after six years, my wife and I have started eating out at restaurants again. My wife is wearing pants. I’m not wearing a yarmulke.
We still attend a Hasidic synagogue. I still put on tefillin daily. We’re proud Jews. I have the utmost respect for the Hasidic rabbis and for those who follow an observant way of life. The congregants are family; I adore them.
I feel guilty in restaurants, but there’s also a new sense of freedom. As an illustration, a very sweet family became our new neighbors. After a few conversations, our new neighbors invited us over for dinner. At that point, we still kept kosher and awkwardly declined: “Sorry, we can’t eat at your home; we keep kosher.” Last week we saw our neighbors on their porch, and with bright eyes my wife exulted and excitedly told me, “We can go out with them!”
Furthermore, one of my son’s medical conditions is a life-long struggle with gaining weight. For much of his life, noted at every doctor visit, he did not reach the bottom of the growth chart and to this day is very small for his age. Now that we’re eating out, he’s gaining weight, and I can happily report he is a dot on the growth chart!
Even after several years of keeping kosher, the food situation made my wife uncomfortable in front of her father, whom she only sees on rare occasions because he lives in a different state. And in my wife’s words, “If I can’t feel comfortable in front of my father, then there’s a problem.”
G-d, I’m sorry. If keeping kosher and wearing a yarmulke is a way to
get closer to You, then I’m sorry for breaking a path to our
relationship. But I admit, my wife and I are much happier eating out,
doing non-Shabbat activities after synagogue. And at a time marked by
other life problems, it feels healthy to be less constricted
religiously. G-d, I still want a relationship with You, but my limited
human mind just can’t understand or accept Your concept of reward and
punishment. You’d rather I’d be happy, wouldn’t You?
Joshua Becker is a freelance writer, Spanish teacher and paralegal, and lives with his wife and 6-year-old son in Wisconsin.