Ari left his contact information in the comments below the above article, and I wish to share the email I sent him with you:
"Hey Ari. I read your excellent article on The Tablet. My name is Moshe Gelberman, I am 17, and I still "play" with "my favorite deputy." I was intrigued by your description about your early passion for tefillin. I remember that when I was within the preceding year to the big day, many of my friends were eagerly anticipating the momentous occasion. Very often the speeches I would hear at their Bar Mitzvahs would involve a parent or Rabbi longing to have the same enthusiasm for tefillin as the 13 year old boys sitting before them. For me, however, the first day I put on tefillin came and went. The event didn't have too large of a build-up, didn't feel too momentous, and had no lasting impact (that I recognize yet) on me. I was wondering if you could help explain the mystery of the excitement to me.
Despite the fact that I still put on tefillin and love Judaism, I do agree with you that many of the stories that you were dis-enlightened with are definitely not inspirations, but rather disincentives. About your disillusionment with the lack of sense behind Judaism, however, I am not on equal terms with. Firstly, I do not believe that religion ever needed to be completely logical in order to be the truth. Secondly, there are many parts of Judaism that i believe (mainly based on the philosophy of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch) truly do develop a society's and individual's ability to perfect its moral and spiritual self. You do not delve too deeply into your theological troubles, which I can judge, seeing as you read Hitchens and Bible criticism, are much more than the one question you do raise in your article. However, I can offer insight into the one question you raise, which you described as the catalyst for your decline into disregard for religion.
"One morning, I woke up and a thought fell on me like a ton of bricks. I realized I was only an Orthodox Jew because it was what I had been taught since birth. I knew no other way. If I had been born into a Christian family, I would have been on the Jesus train. If I’d been born into a Muslim family, I would've jumped on the Allah bandwagon. If I had been raised in the splendor of the flying spaghetti monster, then I’d have spent my mornings praising his noodle appendages. I was an Orthodox Jew by chance, I realized, and the realization shook me to my core."
I would like to suggest two different possible explanations to this quandary.
The first is that, as Jews, we believe that God controls everything. This includes, at least to the majority of Jewish philosophers that believe in reincarnation, which soul is born into which body. According to this theory, God purposely put you into a Jewish family so that you be be a Jew and a servant of His. "If I had been born into..." isn't a consideration. God placed you in the world right where he wanted you to be, and that is an Orthodox Jew. It did not occur by chance.
The second, slightly less mystical interpretation of this theological conundrum is as follows. God has many different servants in this world. Some are Jews, and others are Christians Muslims, Buddhists, and even perhaps, atheists. They each have a part in making God's world a more advanced and better place, be it spiritually, morally, socially, technologically etc. If you had been born into a different religion, than your job would have been to be a servant of God as a member of that religion. Judaism, while believing in the global value of all people who build society, believes that Jews have the most power, and by default, responsibility, to be higher servants of God. The inevitability that obviously every religion is going to believe this about itself does not necessarily detract from its truth. If any religion believed in the superiority of another religion, it would collapse as all of its members evacuated into the upper echelon. God wants different people to serve him differently, so every religion preaches to be the highest one. But, as a Jew, it is your obligation to know that God wants you to serve him Judaically.
In any case, thank you for sharing your journey and thoughts with the world, and I wish you the best of luck.
Farewell,
Moshe Gelberman."
Anyone who wants to take off their tefillin can find a good excuse. It's called free will.
ReplyDeleteI fail to see how the load of bricks that supposedly fell on Ari's head is such a profound thought.
Tomorrow, when he wakes up, perhaps he should grapple with the fact that he was born a male "by chance." He could have just as easily been born female, have long hair, makeup and earrings, get pregnant, etc., etc.
Based on my observations, people who drift away from Yiddishkeit rarely have strong philosophical grounds, but for whatever reason feel fettered, and believe life would be better if only they could...[pick your urge].
Ben of Ben's Tallit Shop
1. I can't say I understand what point your trying to make with the comparison of Ari's question to a question about gender identity (or whatever). One is an interesting hypothetical, the other is a faith-shaking realization.
Delete2. These "observations" of yours of which you write, exactly how thorough are they? Have you done a study? What did you use as your standard, in said study, for "strong philosophical grounds?" How large was the sample group?
Well yes, Ben, "lo saru avoseinu achar avodah zara elah l'hatir l'hem arayos." Our fathers only strayed after idolatry (or the modern day atheist equivalent) to permit promiscuity for themselves.
DeleteBut thats not entirely acturate( seeing as there were idolatrous celebists etc), or at least not applicable to our age. But even if it were, its still extremely insulting, and it doesnt excuse discarding their questions. Their questions are good ones that deserve good answers, despite their motivation.
And btw, how did you come across this blog?