16 March 2008 - 12:11A well-churched rabbi

Here is a photo of our improvised Hanukkah first night candles, which we lit at a beachcomber dining spot near the sea in Rincon after getting lost in the pitch dark and not making it back to our B&B in time for sundown. While streets signs are in Spanish and English, English literacy is not emphasized so far as we can tell. The city museum in

San Juan does not have signs in English, most of the art museums have at least some English interpretative signs available. Fortunately, Spanish is easy to learn for those familiar with other romance languages, typically the same root words, so we’re punting as quickly as possible. Plus, art speaks for itself.

Pretty churches are major tourist attractions. Out of curiosity about the varieties of world religious traditions, I drop in on services in most countries we visit. The attendance is sparse here in

San Juan’s large cathedral, maybe thirty-fifty. Striving for relevance and congregant participation is evident as a small rock band accompanies one service, and lay vocalists and many readers of the lectionary (bible selection) are part of another. No one under 50 appears to be at either service save for two of the electric guitarists. I stand and sit with everyone to be an accommodating visitor, but stop short of kneeling, which feels like it would be inappropriate given I’m not a Christian, nor inclined to be one.The woman beside me in the chapel, is wearing an employee badge from an area market is weeping deeply. I offer a tissue and touch my heart to show empathy. Later she touches my hand in appreciation and seeing my open-gaze to be there for her, she elects to hold my hand for much of the service. I visualize myself as a representative of a tethering rock, tzur hevli b’yet tzarah, like in the Adon Olam prayer those of us inclined to Jewish practice say each day, the “Rock which anchors in times of distress.”

When Barry beckons from his wandering amongst the glorious classical art in the various chapels and nooks through out the cathedral, fortunately she’d already dropped my hand and gone into her own reverie. I slipped away softly, the service was becoming long for me sinceI couldn’t understand much of the Spanish other than the holy, holy, holy, which comes from Christianity’s origins in Judaism, as well as the Latin G*d words in the congregational responses.  beisdes, I was allergic to the incense and sniffing up a storm, and having given away all my tissues…. Time for bright light and fresh air.

Often we proved a curiosity as Jews in Puerto Rico and when we did meet English speaking staff in museums, we were often asked questions about our people’s practices and traditions. As it happened, our host here at the B&B in Rincon proved to be Jewish. When she asked we explained how in the traditional blessing formulation, Barukh Atah Adonai, that Adonai has a root word, eh-den, meaning Threshold. It is also a place holder term for the letters yud hey vav hey, the “shmei rabbah” described in the Kaddish prayer, the Great Name. This most mysterious and holy name for the Jewish G*d idea, is made up of all the forms of the verb “to be”. So once could also say that for our people, G*d is the Infinite Potential for Change. It was wonderful to be able to share that with our host, as she’s been going to church to study bible with a priest and is married a Catholic from

Spain.

Having done my doctorate under a foundation grant that led me to study at a Christian Seminary, I now understand why the Jewish Scriptures (Torah) sounds rather alien interpreted through the lens of Christianity. Christians tend to read Jesus backwards into the biblical period by using key words like yeshua (it means “drawing out,” like Moses was draw out of the water, or in our Havdalah ritual, “the G*d who redeems me, who draws me out is, hinei el yeshua-ti” to mean that Jesus was already in the Torah. This core Christian belief, that he was predicted in such texts, is the heremeneutical device used to get Jews to think they can still be Jewish and believe in Jesus. Of course, educated Jews know our tradition allows no one human to be considered G*d. In Judaism, every human, in our tradition carries a G*d spark, a chip off the Old Block, if you will, our soul, and so we are each all-together b’tzelem elohim, made in the “image of G*d,” and yet like a flea could never grok the dog with which it is in symbiotic relationship, Jews accepted we can strive to grok The Big Picture, but never fully will. That existential condition is quelled by the experience of a Still Small Voice that can be heard within, light from the Spark if you will, that we learn to trust far more than dogmas from from professional institutional dogma generators who are inevitably tied to political dramas. Fortunately Christians and Jews share almost all the same behavioral values – so if your attention isn’t on the afterlife or committed to the Christian belief in the necessity of being “saved,” there’s no need for all that much conflict.  It is no fun for any one religion to imagine it holds the keys to the doorway to the kingdom of G*d, gosh, what hubris.  A G*d that doesn’t make one kind of rose, one kind of butterfly or one kind of universe, sure isn’t going to institute only one doorway to the Mystery beyond embodied life.

Jews believe everyone’s soul is evolving and that there’s no saving involved in moving on to the next plane of being, if there even is one, our musing on that question start with “no one knows” and include ideas from “we return to dust” to “re-incarnation.” In my next book, Living Jewish Life Cycle: Creating Meaningful Jewish Rites of Passage for Every Stage of Life (Coming out, if the publisher is on time, May 2008), I explain our life cycle perspectives in some depth, and also the wide range of contemporary and historical Jewish views on the after life.