God either knows exactly what he's doing, or he's got an outstanding sense of humor. I haven't decided which. (But He's God, so it's probably both.)
The High Holy Days of Judaism coincide with the beginning of the school year, so I don't give them all the attention that I should; I can admit that. Moreover, I've been struggling with my Jewish identity (well, maybe not struggling, but it weighs on me a little bit) since I left orthodoxy. In a former life I would have taken multiple days off from work, spent most of them in shul or at meals with community members, followed through afterward with Sukkot, and partied like mad on Simchas Torah. These days, I give the holidays a brief nod and go back to my regular routine.
So last week a student approached me (one who has been debating the school's no-hat policy with me every so often; they aren't allowed to wear hats, but I wear mine when it's cold in the morning--bald men have to, really) and asked me if I was Jewish. Her exact words were "Are you . . . Jew? or Mormon, or something?" I affirmed that I was, indeed, Jewish, and she responded with, "Well, then you're supposed to wear a hat, right?"
Right. I'm supposed to keep my head covered all the time, I didn't say.
And so, using a twelve-year-old Hispanic girl with no real concept of Orthodox Judaism, Torah, or Talmud, God yet again reminded me not to dismiss Him completely. Especially since the entire exchange happened on, of all days, Yom Kippur.
Observations, rants, and plausible
deniability from a person who refuses
to be a prisoner of his own world.
deniability from a person who refuses
to be a prisoner of his own world.
The Village
I AM WRITING!
My Screenplay -- Draft Three
I'm currently reading:
On my Kindle 2
I'm listening to:
iTunes Radio
I'm driving:
The Honda FCX Clarity
