Isolation Shabbat

Those of you who know me beyond the blogosphere know that I have a complicated relationship with Judaism. I grew up with very minimal Jewish identity (and in fact identified in other ways for certain periods, but that’s another story) and became very religious in my 20s. I’m not as religious now, but I conduct research with religious Jews, and spend a lot of time in religious Jewish community life. My decision to reject being frum (Yiddish, used for people who observe all 613 commandments) was tortuous and protracted and I still love lots of the parts of that life. But I simply couldn’t be part of a community that seemed to espouse unconditional love, yet upon closer examination that love really was quite conditional for certain people or choices. I won’t lie, I still feel torn about feeling like I have to choose one thing or the other, being frum or being secular.

These feelings were especially stark because I had watched the new Netflix series Unorthodox on Thursday night. Inspired by the 2012 book of the same name, it is the story of Esty, who leaves the religious Jewish Satmar community in which she was raised to experience mainstream life. The book did not hold resonance for me, and I was never as extreme in my stringency as the Satmar, but the cinematic imagination of the show captured something of the emotions of being Off the Derech that I have as yet been unable to put into words. I think it had to do with the long shots of the characters’ faces on walks down city streets. You can feel their inner conflict, but also the exposure that you sense when you’re Off the Derech, the feeling like you’re out there for all the world to see as not frum, and everyone is going to know and it’s terrible. It probably doesn’t help that in the middle of it I had a video chat catch up with a frum family who I love so much, but I can’t tell them that I’m not frum anymore because their kids are always around right now…

The hardest part of being Off the Derech (= off the path, used for people who leave religious Jewish life) is not feeling a connection with Jewish practice. When you have been taught that there is only one true Judaism, it’s hard to know how to “do” Judaism without doing everything— the no electronics or cooking on shabbat, having a shabbat meal but not keeping kosher, etc…. I’ve tried Reform and Liberal services and I just don’t enjoy the davening (prayer) as much. There’s a really amazing feeling that comes from the traditions and experiences within Orthodoxy, it gives you a warm feeling of connection inside your chest, especially at shabbat and holidays. It’s the community itself, but also the richness of the learning and history, and the depth behind every word and action. I’ve been having trouble recapturing these things on my own terms. Even in my head when I write that, “on my own terms”, I hear the frum voice in my head, saying, “It doesn’t happen on your terms, it happens on Hashem’s (G-d’s) terms.”

I’d been thinking of getting back into some sort of observance of Shabbat in isolation, not least because it gives the week some sort of structure and rhythm, rather than every day being the same. But I’ve been so busy for the last two years that I haven’t really had the space to do much spiritual exploration, and isolation is certainly giving me time and space. So on Friday, almost without planning it, I lit shabbat candles.

My food situation is somewhat limited by the nature of my isolation and what comes in a delivery, but I had semi-purposefully been saving a baked chicken meal for Friday night, and I threw that in the oven. I’d been thinking about making mucver (Turkish courgette/zucchini fritters) for a while, because I love them, and I had some courgettes that need using up. So I made mucver. And I poured myself a glass of wine and had a gorgeous feast. And even though I was on my own, and shabbat is a communal experience, and I cooked and used electricity on shabbat, and it wasn’t frum, it felt like shabbat. I had had an amazing week filled with love and support from my family of friends, I felt loved and supported in every way possible from every corner of the globe, and even in my isolation, I felt less alone than I’ve ever felt in my life.

And yeah, I binged some Netflix, because I am alone, and even my book right now is on an e-reader and I’m not frum anyway. But it didn’t make it any less shabbat. I felt warmth, and love, and repose. Maybe next week I’ll even try and make challah (if I can get enough flour in).

Recipe for mucver to follow shortly. Live Now!