Down the Rabbit Hole: Gifts from a Religious Crisis
3. This is what it means to be an Off-the-Derech Baal-Teshuvah: it means you grew up less observant—or in my case, completely secular—became traditionally observant later in life, and then walked away from observance. For me this year, it has meant carefully constructing a childhood that I love dearly, then suddenly growing up and leaving my childhood behind. Yet I didn’t want everyone to make the choices I was making; I wanted the Shabbos world to keep going whenever I stepped away. How else could I come back to visit?
4. No Breaks – I thought that I was on a break from choosing and continuing on a religious path. I became, meanwhile, very involved in a start-up shul, and promptly began berating myself: I couldn’t explore different options when I was investing so much time and energy in one community (and a Modern Orthodox one, at that)! Until it dawned on me: there are no breaks. The path continues. Every moment is meaningful, and I am in a particular community because I want to be.
5. Shabbos vs. Saturday – For me, Shabbos isn’t exactly a day of the week—that’s Saturday. Shabbos is instead a choice to put myself in a certain environment. Though I spent many happy Saturdays this year skipping Shabbos, especially when traveling, sometimes the day was difficult because I wanted to observe Shabbos somehow and couldn’t; I had made a choice in advance to put myself in a Saturday situation. These days, I usually opt to make Shabbos plans, just in case I want them once I get there.
6. Between All and Nothing – I wrote a whole post about this one. Right before the holiday of Shavuos, I stopped freaking out so much about an observance end-game, and attempted to embrace a Jewish life of ambiguity and doubt. Since then I really have let go of a lot of angst.
Except….
7. Anger – “I’m straight up mad at halakha,” I recently said to my rabbi, who’s known me for almost ten years now. I had realized that, underneath it all, I was angry—at halakha, and also at Orthodox Judaism, at Conservative Judaism, at religion in general, at human nature, at God. I’ve been thinking lately about becoming halakhic again, but keep stopping myself because I’m so damn mad.
I ranted at my rabbi for a while. I ranted about the issues of women’s and LGBTQ inclusion in Orthodoxy, about value systems and how halakha is only one of a few of mine, and often contradicts the others. He couldn’t answer everything, of course, but the conversation was nevertheless both helpful and humbling. Regarding my anger, he said, “If you’re mad, it means you’re in it—mazal tov.”
When I was at the door and about to leave, he grinned and said, “You’re doing great.” Strangely enough, I still don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going… but I think he’s right.
10 comments on “Down the Rabbit Hole: Gifts from a Religious Crisis”
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“Yet I didn’t want everyone to make the choices I was making; I wanted the Shabbos world to keep going whenever I stepped away. How else could I come back to visit?”
Frankly, this strikes me as a remarkably selfish and immature thing to say. If you want something to happen, you have to be willing to be there and make it happen. If you aren’t willing to make it happen for yourself and for others, then you have no right to make demands on it happening.
Judaism is all about struggle (as in the origin of the word “Israel”). With Judaism, and maybe religion in general, it’s not like you get to a certain point and you’re done. People often find themselves in the same stage as they had been. The maturity is in realizing that nothing is static; this stage is fleeting, and the next stage will be new, but it will probably be familiar too. (Slightly tangentially, how many times have I lost 10 or 20 pounds in a healthy, slow, and sustainable way, and thought that I was forever done with weight loss?)
I heard the following story from my rabbi on birthright:
A Jewish man comes to his rabbi and says, “Rabbi! I’m in so much agony! I’m not sure if I believe in God or not.”
The rabbi says, “You’re a Jew, you’re not sure if you believe, and you’re in agony about that? You’ll be fine!”
I don’t think I’m telling this right, hah, but you get the idea. The struggle is normal. It would be strange if you didn’t struggle and if it didn’t affect you emotionally.
Also, re: Sarah, I think the author is taking an ironic distance towards herself there. She realizes that her expectations are problematic and is judging herself for having them.
I disagree. She’s acknowledging that it is beautiful and important to her, and that she still thinks about and values it–even if she’s not observing it right now. I don’t think that’s selfish.
Thanks for your comments- I appreciate knowing that there are others who share the same struggles.
“Yet I didn’t want everyone to make the choices I was making; I wanted the Shabbos world to keep going whenever I stepped away. How else could I come back to visit?”
This is true for so many things in life, not just Shabbos. Beautifully articulated.
I relate so much to your story and your posts are so moving to me. I am also an “off the derech Baal teshuva”. I spent many years being newly observant… Then after a bad relationship that challenged my views about Judaism and the way I observed our tradition, I stopped. I stopped everything. I’ve also had moments where I’ve cried on Shabbat but still couldn’t seem to get myself to commit. Your post on Shavuot moved me to tears – that was the first time I broke Chag and I haven’t been able to keep it since. It’s as if the magic and beauty is lost. Sometimes I feel like Hashem has pulled the rug out from under me. Why did i bother working so hard to be faithful to Hashem only to disappear… But your story gives me hope. We are not alone. The world is not a binary place. It doesn’t matter whether others think we are on or off the derech. What matters is that our own derech is one of truth and struggle and longing, just like Yacov’s wrestling with G-d, our wrestling is holy. It is not one of contempt or unfaithfulness or condescension. On this simchat Torah (as I write on my computer) I pray for both of us to B”H, have a journey full of discovery, lack of judgment, and love of Hashem. Because that is what is most important to remember, that Hashem truly loves us no matter what derech we are on. Hashem will be there when we are ready receive. We will get there.
Hi Sarah L, I don’t know if you will see this, but I am re-reading your note now and am so moved (and in full agreement of your sentiment). I hope your journey has continued to be full of discovery, lack of judgment, and love of Hashem.