Someone sent me a message asking why being religious is worthwhile to me. While they appreciate that my blog comes from the perspective of an Orthodox person who is still aware of the flaws that exist within the religious community, they would like to me to highlight why being religious is still worthwhile to me, despite those flaws.
The same way that Pirkei Avos teaches us ”Who is rich? The one who appreciates what he has” (Pirkei Avot, 4:1), the modern day Oprah school of philosophy teaches us about the power of gratitude and the benefit of making gratitude lists. In that vein, perhaps this is a healthy exercise to remind me why I still enjoy being Orthodox. For some reason, I never like using the term “religious” because to me, that implies some sort of moral judgment. I’ve always preferred the term observant, because that is more action based and doesn’t claim to know a person’s heart or intentions. Religious implies a certain spiritual or mental state, and as such, I always felt it was neither a title I had earned nor one I deserve. I always find it rather pompous when other people refer to themselves as religious, but that’s based on my own personal hang-up with the word. It can mean different things to different people.
I think that being introduced to the Orthodox community initially gave me a sense of vindication. From the time I was a little girl, I always felt that God was watching over me. My child’s perspective was that some people have a straight drop from Shemayim into this earthly world upon birth. They go right from Hashem’s neshama factory, and into the arms of the loving parents who created them with His divine assistance. Some of us, however, have a bumpy descent with many twists, turbulence, and confusion before we end up in a designated spot in Olam HaZeh. Being adopted, I always felt like one of those who took the scenic route.
My adopted family gave me my first introduction to the concept of God. There never was any doubt in their minds that God existed, despite not being observant. It was a piece of information transmitted as casually as the colors of the rainbow or how to tie my shoes. However, God was not mentioned or acknowledged on a daily basis, and my public school education didn’t include any education about religion or God or spiritual belief. However, in addition to praying in synagogue during the high holidays, I still harbored my own belief, and I often prayed to Hashem (not the Shema, but in my own words) before bedtime after particularly trying days (I remember praying to Hashem about my fear of getting older and having more responsibilities on the eve of my 7th birthday!).
When I was introduced to the Orthodox community, it was validating to find so many people who believed in God as a factual concept. There was no doubt to them that Hashem existed, and many even claimed to be able to prove his divine existence. While I spent time at quite a few Discovery Seminars being blown away by gematrias in the Torah that predict some of the worst tragedies in Jewish history, and hearing about how Judaism is the only religion that claims divine revelation to an entire people at Har Sinai unlike other religions founded on God’s supposed revelation to just one individual, I never placed the foundation of my faith on these kinds of proofs. At the end of the day, it just boiled down to emunah, which I had, for whatever reason, since childhood.
A sense of belonging based on my faith is one thing that drew and draws me to Orthodoxy, and so is the sense that Orthodoxy provides a blueprint to living a good life. I do believe, if followed correctly, the Torah can provide the key to reaching the heights of human potential. If followed/interpreted correctly (which is the tricky part) contentment, kindness, knowledge, morality, forgiveness, chessed, (pick any positive attribute included in a life well lived) can be attained through a life based on Torah principles.
Another positive aspect of Orthodox life is the emphasis on family. Even back in my single days, marriage and family was not high on the list of many young people in college who were looking to establish themselves in careers. Casual dating was a high priority, but taking on any responsibilities beyond dating was not considered appropriate until after graduating and working for several years. Getting married in your 30s, late 20s at the very earliest, was the norm. Girls looking for marriage earlier were generally considered unrealistic, demanding, clingy, or suffering from low self esteem. The surest way to send a college boyfriend screaming in the opposite direction was to hint about getting engaged or start talking marriage or how many kids you wanted. The only group of guys who not only weren’t fazed by the topic of commitment, but actually brought it up themselves, were the Orthodox guys. I remember this being a very refreshing change of pace.
Shabbos and Yom Tov, which tie into family life, are also times that I enjoy and find meaning in. Unplugging from the electronic universe and disengaging from larger society does bring home that the world still runs without our participation. Hashem guides the world and guards us even when we don’t perform our weekday activities. We can put down our weekly burdens, albeit temporarily, and Hashem will pick up the load for us.
Transmitting the Jewish tradition through parenting my children and providing them with the best Jewish education I can offer, is something that also gives me nachas. Knowing that my heritage won’t end with me and that my children will have more Jewish knowledge than I do makes me feel proud. I am happy that my children will never feel like strangers in a synagogue; that they won’t feel illiterate when they open a siddur, or chumash, or gemarah. Their education means a lot to me, as I know firsthand those feelings of inadequacy, as well as how hard it is to try and play educational catch up as an adult.
I don’t want to dwell on the flip side of the positives I mention here, because I spend a lot of time focusing on those flip sides on my blog. Sometimes it’s necessary to just lay down things you are grateful for, and leave it be. There are plenty of other areas that I appreciate about religious life, but I’ll stop here for now.
I don’t have an answer for whether or not I could personally live a fulfilled life with my faith in Hashem intact, but without the behavioral blueprint mandated by Orthodoxy. Well, that’s not exactly true, because based on experience; I know that my extended family lead good lives without the strictures of Orthodoxy. However, I think that my life is richer for the rituals and observances I have undertaken, and I think the challenge to overcome my disenchantment with certain aspects of Orthodoxy makes my life more meaningful, in a strange way. I’m not the kind of person who can go through life by rote mechanics without questioning, and so I probably would have equal levels of disenchantment in a secular existence. I don’t know if this post answers the original question of why I find leading a religious life worthwhile, but I hope it’s a start.
