Individuality in Religion?

Hello, friends.

Everybody is unique, right? We have different personalities, different opinions, different perspectives, different paradigms through which we view the world. Not to say that there aren't similarities, but I doubt that it is even slightly close to possible to find somebody with the exact same views on everything (if you find that person, keep them forever). So I'm wondering to what degree individual opinion and choice does, or does not, play a role in religion.

Last week was the first week of classes for the new semester, which means I began a course called "The Teaching of Theology and Religious Communication." It is a required course for my program, so I did not really give it much thought before last Tuesday morning, but it turns out it's a class about how to teach (obvious enough once I read the title again). Considering the fact that I have always adamantly claimed that I do not want to be a teacher, this was surprisingly okay with me. When people ask me about what I do, what interfaith relations really means, it generally involves some element of knowing how to properly "teach" about religious topics, both that are a part of my own as well as a part of other religious traditions. I found the class, taught by a priest, extremely interesting--not least of all because he showed us a video called "The Butterfly Circus" without telling us anything about it in advance. So I leave it here similarly with no introduction, except to say that it deals with individual difference and choice, it's not about religion, I found it inspiring, and it is twenty minutes long (but worth it, if you have the time).* Even if you aren't able to watch that video right now, I think that individual opinion and agency is a topic that we can all ruminate on.

In terms of the importance of the individual and choice, it's important to remember that I'm certainly coming from a more liberal religious perspective. I can largely believe what I want to believe on modern issues like gay marriage and abortion. I do not keep kosher, so I am not limited in what I eat. I feel quite free in my religion to be who I want to be, and believe what I want to believe, but with the support of a worldwide progressive Jewish community. But what about those who are more strictly religious and so are meant to subscribe to a list of specific beliefs, whether that is in Judaism or another faith? I would like to discuss a case example to explain what I mean.

As a strong supporter of gay marriage myself, I would not feel comfortable attending a synagogue that preached against this. I often wonder how supporters of gay marriage, or gay individuals who are raised in the Catholic Church or any other group that somehow condemns homosexuality, deal with reconciling their feelings with their religion. I know many leave the Church.

But am I really free in Reform Judaism? What if, for example, I did not support gay marriage? Attending a liberal, Reform Jewish synagogue in New York State would not be out of the question, but I might be judged harshly for my opinion if it were to be made known. Plus, the Reform movement of Judaism does officially support gay marriage...so perhaps if I disagreed, I would similarly feel at odds with the establishment.

This case study aside, the idea of individuality in religion comes up because of my heavy involvement in Catholicism while I am here in Rome. I meet numerous priests, deacons, Catholic lay people, all of whom at least hypothetically agree with the Church's teaching on not only gay marriage, but also birth control, sex outside of marriage, the future salvation (or not) of people, proper times and frequency with which one should attend church, etc. And yet I have met many, many people throughout my life who consider themselves Catholic and yet do not agree with some of these lines of thinking. Sometimes people just ignore the conflicting views--they might continue to use birth control, for example, but still attend church regularly. Others feel ostracized for their beliefs and might not fully participate in the community. I once sat down for an interview with an Episcopal minister, and she said that she liked her part of Christianity because, "I don't have to check my brain at the door." It was an interesting, if blunt, statement, and I have given some thought to it since that interview, and how it relates to this question of individual opinion in a system like Catholicism.

I am not making an overall value judgment on the worth of individuality in religion. For many people, having this strict structure of a faith and associated beliefs is an important way in which to organize their world, and I can see the comfort in that. There is definitely some sense of stability in everyone believing the same things, doing the same things, being the same in at least this aspect of their lives. But for me, this strict form of telling me what to think would be untenable. I sometimes describe Reform as the "religion for secular people," with its generally liberal social opinions but the traditional community institutions of a religion. But if all of a sudden the movement started trying to tell me what to think about certain things, I would probably be extremely uncomfortable with it.

So what do you think? Does your religion or belief system encourage individual differences of opinions? Does it take a stance on contemporary political issues? Could you ever just ignore something coming out of your faith establishment that you felt so strongly was just wrong?

Now go out and love one another.

<3,
Allyson 

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*Regarding the short film above, I have to wonder: if the individual struggling was gay, would a priest be showing it in our class? I am not sure.

An Interfaith Visit to Israel

Hello, friends.

I recently returned from a very intense, extremely busy nine-day trip to Israel. This visit was part of my fellowship, so it was the first trip in a while where I barely had to think about logistics at all as we were shuttled from place to place and fed huge buffets of delicious food constantly. I imagine over the next few weeks I will reflect on the trip in more detail, but I wanted to share some of my initial thoughts here before I completely over-think everything (which will happen, trust me).

The first is that Israel felt like a dream. For years, in Hebrew School, in conversations, basically every conversation having to do with the non-political side of things has involved talking about the wonders of Israel. How they serve dried fruits and nuts and all fresh things for meals. How wonderful it is to be in a place where, for once, the Jewish people are not a minority. How the weather is amazing. Well...it was all kind of true. The first night, after our flight over from Rome, we had a huge meal with great wines and fresh cheeses and little bowls of nuts. We spent hours over the next few days walking through the old, limestone, cobblestone marketplaces of Jerusalem, seeing countless little stalls selling various religious chachkas (I have never seen so many hamsas in my life). Orthodox Jews and Arabs and others walked around the city, and mezzuzahs graced almost every doorway of every building (including our individual hotel rooms). My first few days there, I was convinced I was not actually in Israel, but in some kind of Jewish theme park that couldn't be real. It did not hurt that we had near-perfect weather for much of the trip (no rain!).

We also saw some of the reality of the difficulties in the country, though. Like on our last day, when we noticed a group of twenty-year-old girls, looking like mere children, walking around Tel Aviv in their army uniforms with huge black guns casually strapped across their backs. Or when we crossed through the wall to visit Bethlehem, which was a completely surreal experience. We also drove by some of the West Bank settlements that are causing so much controversy. All in all, we only had limited discussions about politics (this was by design--since our group is about religion and interreligious dialogue, politics was not meant to be a focus), but we still saw some of these things firsthand.

The interfaith and Jewish aspects of the trip were extremely interesting. We spent five half-days studying at the Shalom Hartman Institute, a Jewish pluralistic research center. Pluralism, of diversity within Judaism, is very important today. I often find that greater strife and judgment actually comes from people without our own faith traditions, and so specific places that bring together members of different strains of Judaism--Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist--are really exemplary. During our time there, we would hear lectures on different topics, such as one on feminism in Orthodox Judaism and another on the different Christian groups living in Israel. We would then spend the other half of those days touring around Jerusalem.

Personally, going to the Western Wall was very moving. For those who are unaware, the Western Wall is the most holy site on Earth for Jews because it is close to where the ancient Temple once stood. I have to say, though, I never expected my first time approaching it to be with a group of five practicing Christians--not a better or worse experience than I had expected, just different. Many Orthodox Jewish women prayed intently around us (genders are separated for prayer by the Western Wall, in accordance with Orthodox prayer practice, since Israel is run by Orthodox authorities). So I was not 100% like the Orthodox women, but nor was I 100% like my female Christian friends...I felt somewhat far away from my egalitarian, liberal, Reform Jewish community in New York at that moment. Also, in the main gender-separated area against the wall, I noticed that the women's section is smaller than the men's, even though there was open space against the wall in the men's section while women were two deep trying to just get close enough to touch the wall.

I felt I could've been more emotional, if I'd had more time than just a few rushed minutes at the wall. As it was, my group quickly shuffled off from the women's section to find the newly-opened mixed-gender prayer area. While I applaud the Orthodox governance for (finally) opening up a space for more liberal visitors, this section was difficult to find--outside of the security complex surrounding the main part of the Wall, around enormous construction works, through a gate that is not marked as the mixed prayer section in any way (we had to ask), down a long flight of stairs to what looks like an archaeological site and not a prayer site, to an empty platform, with no way to get close enough to touch the wall. Plus, there was no one there except for us. I can only hope that one day Jews of all types can pray in their own way--and properly--at the Western Wall. That said, cannot deny that I was moved at finally making it to the Western Wall. In a true example of interfaith relations at work, one of my Christian friends asked me to say a prayer, and so I sang the Shema while we were in the mixed-gender section.

After Jerusalem, our group ventured up to the Galilee, to Akko (right on the Mediterranean!), the Sea of Galilee (very peaceful), Capernaum, and Tel Aviv for the remaining three days of the trip. During these few days, we met with a gentleman at the main location for a fascinating, seemingly pro-interfaith branch of Islam known as Sufism, visited the center of the Baha'i faith just outside of Akko, and learned about the Peres Center for Peace (a grassroots organization working to improve relationships between Israelis and Palestinians) in Tel Aviv. All in all, a very interesting end to our trip.

So what will I take away from all of this? First of all, a strong desire to go back to Israel. I think going back with a Jewish group specifically, hopefully Birthright, will give me more time understand how I should feel as a Jewish person in Israel, and what it will mean for me as a Jewish person living elsewhere. Another shocking thing I have taken away from the trip was to realize that the stories of the Bible, of the Torah, they all happened in an actual place, and not some fantasy land as I guess I subconsciously thought. I mean, to be brought into the tiny basement of a church and told that Jesus was born there, was a pretty incredible thing, even for me as a Jew. I think I could not really believe Israel existed until I saw it, and I am fairly certain this will affect how I read Biblical stories in the future. I also feel inspired by the work that is going on to improve religious relations in Israel, and I pray that soon those efforts will be successful in bringing peace to this tiny nation.

So now, as the sun sets on a beautiful day back in my current city of Rome, as ever,

(Look! A present from a good friend!)

<3,

Allyson