Tuesday, January 7, 2014
The degree of which my life centers around religion is mind-blowing. Take for example: I had an existential conversation over pizza bagels with my sister, a boy from my campus Hillel asked if I would lead a learning session because "you could draw a lot of people," I had to consult the grocery mashgiach because the Milk Chocolate Dunkin Hines Brownies were labeled OU, and my niece asked me what a soul is.
While each event occurred independently, these events each led me closer to a most worrisome conclusion: how little I really know about the very thing that has been the rock, center, essence of my life, my religion. At the end of the day I exist just as a bagel, sauce, and cheese do. At the end of the day I'm just a nineteen year old kid, whom am I going to "draw" and what will they learn from my one hour butchery of ancient Jewish source modge-podgery? At the end of the day we are measured on the "frum scale by whether we have the OU on speed dial and if we wait into the eleventh hour between meat and dairy. At the end of the day I tell my niece its the spark G-d gave her that makes her unique from every other person; The same spark that tells me I'm not "playing house correctly" and informs me that the lion I am coloring, is a mammal that lives in the Savannah.
According to Wikipedia (rule number 1:always got to cite your sources), "Orthos" is Greek for "straight" and "doxa" means "belief." Noone has "straight belief," and if one says he does, he's lying through his teeth. I think someone is truely Orthodox only when he has questions and is brave enough to seek answers. Only those who seek to deepen their faith not through being a complacent follower nor being a mindless automaton, but through introspection and personal prayer, is looking for spirituality.
Prayer is supposed to be difficult. Sometimes it comes naturally, sometimes, it doesn't.
When all else fails.. I like to eat some self-confused brownies.
The Orthodox Paradox