Tuesday is Jewsday: Apples and Honey
I've got a intensely ambivalent relationship with my religion right now.
On the one hand, I love being Jewish. I like Heeb magazine and gefilte fish; I like to feel like I've got a birthright to Katz's pastrami, Russ & Daughters' whitefish salad and Yonah Shimmels kasha varnishkes. I like to consider myself kin to the intellectual and comedic pioneers in this country. Like so many secular Jews, I love the culture.
But culture is one thing, and religion is another. This time of year I get beyond the cultural trappings, and I want to drive to temple, park a few blocks away, and walk over holding my dad's talis bag. I feel like I have this external force acting on me, a pull from the moon saying "You never call, you never write..."
Unfortunately, I've been temple-free since high school. Sure, I went to shul in San Francisco, another one in Gramercy Park, and one in Brooklyn. I go to shul, but I don't have a shul. When I ask my friends about their temples, they'll tell me where they belong, quickly followed by, "But you don't want to go there. Find a better one." As a result; I feel disconnected; homeless.
And now that I'm dating a Catholic man, my house is strewn with pamphlets from the weekly mass he attends. He loves church, and is all aglow when he comes by afterwards. I'm jealous; I want that too. I want that spiritual check in, the faith, the high.
But the doctrine, not so much. It leaves me as cold and confused as the culture leaves me warm and fuzzy.
So this week, instead of getting existential about my faith or lack thereof, I retreat to the part of my religion that I like -- the culture. The people. The family. A Jewish friend and I will be celebrating the holiday temple-free by taking ourselves to dinner in New York -- a new place for the new year with an old friend.
I will bring apples and honey in my purse, we will say a prayer in hebrew before we eat.Thought I might not be chanting the right words in the right place, I will be Jewish in my own way, by taking the time time to stop, acknowledge and celebrate.
Happy New Year. Cha'ag Sameach!
Apples and Honey
One of the things I -- and many secular Jews like me -- always celebrate religiously (if you'll excuse the pun) is the food. The brisket, the challah (and challah french toast the next day), the matzoh balls and the kugel.
On Rosh Hashana, Jews are thankful for the earth's bounty and the harvest, and wish one another a sweet new year. In my family, we would always dip an apple in a little bowl of honey. Apples represent the local harvest, and honey the sweet new year.
For more holiday recipes, check out my friend Stacey Ballis' article in Oy! A Chicago-based Jewish magazine.
On the one hand, I love being Jewish. I like Heeb magazine and gefilte fish; I like to feel like I've got a birthright to Katz's pastrami, Russ & Daughters' whitefish salad and Yonah Shimmels kasha varnishkes. I like to consider myself kin to the intellectual and comedic pioneers in this country. Like so many secular Jews, I love the culture.
But culture is one thing, and religion is another. This time of year I get beyond the cultural trappings, and I want to drive to temple, park a few blocks away, and walk over holding my dad's talis bag. I feel like I have this external force acting on me, a pull from the moon saying "You never call, you never write..."
Unfortunately, I've been temple-free since high school. Sure, I went to shul in San Francisco, another one in Gramercy Park, and one in Brooklyn. I go to shul, but I don't have a shul. When I ask my friends about their temples, they'll tell me where they belong, quickly followed by, "But you don't want to go there. Find a better one." As a result; I feel disconnected; homeless.
And now that I'm dating a Catholic man, my house is strewn with pamphlets from the weekly mass he attends. He loves church, and is all aglow when he comes by afterwards. I'm jealous; I want that too. I want that spiritual check in, the faith, the high.
But the doctrine, not so much. It leaves me as cold and confused as the culture leaves me warm and fuzzy.
So this week, instead of getting existential about my faith or lack thereof, I retreat to the part of my religion that I like -- the culture. The people. The family. A Jewish friend and I will be celebrating the holiday temple-free by taking ourselves to dinner in New York -- a new place for the new year with an old friend.
I will bring apples and honey in my purse, we will say a prayer in hebrew before we eat.Thought I might not be chanting the right words in the right place, I will be Jewish in my own way, by taking the time time to stop, acknowledge and celebrate.
Happy New Year. Cha'ag Sameach!
Apples and Honey
One of the things I -- and many secular Jews like me -- always celebrate religiously (if you'll excuse the pun) is the food. The brisket, the challah (and challah french toast the next day), the matzoh balls and the kugel.
On Rosh Hashana, Jews are thankful for the earth's bounty and the harvest, and wish one another a sweet new year. In my family, we would always dip an apple in a little bowl of honey. Apples represent the local harvest, and honey the sweet new year.
For more holiday recipes, check out my friend Stacey Ballis' article in Oy! A Chicago-based Jewish magazine.
posted by Allison Fishman Task at 2:13 PM
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