Don’t be like me.

A lot of people – when they hear about how I observe Judaism, they say: “Well, obviously, that doesn’t count since you are a rabbi.” I don’t eat bacon. I don’t fly on Shabbat. I do a lot of things that people think of as “inconvenient” or “unrealistic.” But a lot of people think I do this because I am super into Judaism and because I’m a rabbi. The truth is: A lot of the super Jewy things I do, I started doing them by mistake.

Part One: Shabbat – I fell into my observance of Shabbat. When I lived in NYC, I noticed that my money kept disappearing. In an attempt to put a stop to the leak, I quit spending money on Shabbat. I figured – if I could take 25 hours off from spending money, then maybe I could better understand where my money was going. I thought it would force me to plan ahead and to use money more wisely. It did.

To be fair, New York City is alive, awake, and waiting to take your money every minute of every day. I rebelled against the financial expectations of the so-called real world. It’s true that this idea is particularly Jewish. I might have been influenced by the culture of rabbinic school at the time. I still don’t spend money on Shabbat – which means I don’t go to stores or restaurants. It means that I have to plan ahead and I have to get my fun for free. Eating lunch at Hillel is free, and lots of other amazing things are free. Parks are free. Making and eating meals with friends at home is free – if you shop before Shabbat. I consistently plan ahead for Shabbat. Then, whatever I don’t have on Friday afternoon, I just live without.

In this way, just like AJ Heschel promised, Shabbat has become a true island in time for me, an island that welcomes my friends and family. Shabbat has become a healthy break from the cycle of consumerism that occupies the rest of the week, a break in the 24-hour news cycle that raises my blood pressure Sunday through Thursday. [Also, I’m not a jerk about it. If I’m staying at someone else’s house over the weekend, I don’t impose my customs on them, but I do ask in advance what we can plan without inconveniencing them too much.]

Part Two: Kashrut – I backed into observing kashrut, Jewish dietary laws. At the beginning of my studies at Hebrew Union College – Jewish Institute of Religion, I lived in Jerusalem for a year. I ate my last crab in Jerusalem, and it was delicious. I still remember it well. I didn’t decide then that was going to be my last bite of shellfish. (Lev 11:10-12) Rather, I realized at the end of the academic year, that I had been choosing not to order shellfish and not to mix meat and milk. At this point in 2018, my house is kosher. I have four sets of dishes and only kosher meat has entered the house. If I were actually planning my observance of kashrut, I would have planned it this way – that my kitchen is kosher so my friends from all Jewish denominations can come over to eat with me. Though I didn’t plan it – my kashrut and my values developed together in the same direction with a result that feels authentically Jewish and authentic to my values. At this point, kashrut has brought mindfulness and a sacred nuance to my eating habits that I never would have expected.

Part Three: Kippot – I stumbled into wearing a kippah. Actually, my kippah story is the worst example. In this case, REALLY don’t be like me. Once, a long time ago, after a break up, I cut off all my hair (as one does). I started teaching kindergarten shortly after that and I wore a kippah because it was an easy way to get my kindergarteners to think about the difference between prayer and other stuff like arts & crafts and singing, learning and playing. My hair grew out, and kippot started flopping around on my head. They wouldn’t stay still. So I quit wearing them. This floppy ritual practice wasn’t “speaking to me” so I quit.

Twenty years later our new president proposed a way to register Muslim citizens. In response, a lot of Jews ranted about the Holocaust. I ranted about the American internment of Japanese families in California, in 1942. Filled with both anger and hope, I promised my Muslim friends: “Don’t worry. Japanese Americans and Jewish Americans won’t let this happen to you.”

Around then, my friend David wrote an article in a Jewish paper about how he resolved not to be a member of an invisible minority anymore. He started wearing a kippah (yarmulke) every day. The same week his article was published, I was preparing to go to a conference in San Antonio. David and his mother Glenda suggested that I try wearing a kippah. (Basically, I started wearing a kippah because my friends did.) 

I wore a kippah to the conference – it was a biblical studies conference, filled with mostly Christians, a few Jews, and even fewer Muslims. My kippah was an amazing conversation starter. Because of that kippah, I met incredible people, I had meaningful conversations. The author of a book I had read and loved introduced herself to me because of my kippah. And after that weekend, when I’m studying or when I’m praying, I wear a kippah. Wearing a kippah has elevated my learning and my prayer – in unexpected and wonderful ways – reminding me to stay connected to the Jewish tradition and to the Divine Source of All.

Part Five: Conclusion – Don’t be like me. Not only are my Jewish observances somewhat half-baked and backwards, they are also based mostly in habit and guilt and moral outrage. I fell into most of my Jewish observances. I stumbled into them without thinking much at all. You don’t have to be like me. You all have the choice to think critically about your Jewish observances. To be proactive, not reactive. A lot of rabbis would not tell you to experiment. They would tell you to learn and then do. But me, I’m the opposite – like it says in Exodus 24:7 נַעֲשֶׂ֥ה וְנִשְׁמָֽע׃ – Na’aseh v’nishma. We will do and then we will understand.

Like many, many aspects of Judaism there are multiple authentically Jewish ways to observe Shabbat, to eat mindfully, to be part of the Jewish community. Another day, I could give a whole sermon about how to make authentically Jewish decisions.But not tonight.Tonight, I’ll simply say this: Neither the Hebrew Bible nor the Jewish prayerbook stand alone. It is our responsibility to reach across space and time – to the Jews of the past, present, and future – to the Jews all over the globe.

To find out how to “do Jewish” in an authentic way, think about the Jews of the past, the Jews of the present, and the Jews of the future. Think about the commandments (Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 5) and think about the traditions of Jews around the world. And then look at yourself. Be authentically Jewish AND be your authentic self.

I have only met a few of you so far, and we’ve only spent a short time together, but I already believe in you. You are here tonight, aren’t you? So, I believe in your ability to make conscious, thoughtful, Jewish choices. On behalf of the rabbis and educators, camp directors and cantors, Hillel staff members and Sunday School teachers who love you, THANK YOU for keeping Judaism and the Jewish community authentically Jewish while reflecting the images of all of you.