What is the difference between a maze and a labyrinth?
A maze – as many of us know – is intended to be a structural challenge. Starting from point A, participants are challenged to make it to Point B, while avoiding as many wrong turns as possible, wrong turns that wind-up at potentially costly dead-ends.
Labyrinths, on the other hand, have no dead ends. Instead, they have just one path that twist and turns itself to the center and back again, ending where it began though – because of the journey taken – participants feel and even arguably are different than before.
“So, which one typifies the journey of your life: the maze, or the labyrinth?”
This is the question I have begun to pose to participants of our newest ISJL rabbinic project: The Linda Pinkus Memorial Labyrinth, which is presently in the testing-stage and is slated to be released in early 2014.
And remarkably, in reviving this centuries old practice in Judaism, an interesting pattern has emerged. Among younger adults, an overwhelming majority sees life more like a maze; while among older adults life is likened more to a labyrinth. But, why? What accounts for this difference?
According to the ensuing conversation, younger adults identified with the maze more because the course of life – as they saw it – is dictated by choice. Choose the right way, you are rewarded with success. Choose the wrong way, and you’ll end up squandering precious time and resources.
“Yep,” slowly responded an older gentleman. “But, looking back, you come to see that whether life’s a maze or labyrinth, there’s still only one way through. It’s just that a labyrinth incorporates the dead-ends into the journey as twist and turns of lessons learned that made one’s life interesting to live.”
Whether one is looking forward or back, each has a valued perspective on the course of our human lives. But, what’s life look like from where you stand? Is it more like a maze or labyrinth? I’ll hope you’ll continue this conversation, which may reveal even more meaning about the course of our lives!
In the mid-nineteenth century, thousands of Jewish immigrants from Alsace-Lorraine came to America and made new lives for themselves in the Deep South. Last week, some Alsatian Jews embarked on the same journey (made much more convenient by intercontinental air travel) to learn about Jewish history and heritage in the South.
Traveling up from New Orleans, last Friday this group of 33 Jewish Alsatian tourists found themselves spending a day with ISJL staff in Jackson, Mississippi. We have worked with tour groups in the past, but never in a different language! While many of them did speak English, the group leader translated every presentation into French. Take a look at this short clip I filmed of Dr. Rockoff presenting to the group…
From our office we went on our usual tour of Jackson sites, stopping at Tougaloo College, the COFO Civil Rights Education Center and the Medgar Evers House Museum. These sites mainly focus on the events of the Civil Rights movement, so I did my best to explain how that history has shaped this region. Questions like why so many buildings were empty downtown, why students pay so much for a college education, and inquiries regarding contemporary race relations, covered huge topics that while difficult to explain easily in English, are especially challenging to explain in French, to an audience without a native understanding of American history.
The cultural exchange went both ways, as I got to hear about the French Jewish experience as well. One woman asked me about how Southerners practice Judaism, and if they still identify as Jewish if they aren’t active in a congregation. She explained that while there are many secular Jews in France, many strongly identify as racially Jewish because of their direct connection to the Holocaust. The leader told me later that a few of the visitors were hidden children during the war. I also found it interesting in discussing our ISJL education program when a few of the guests then explained to me that their children never had any formal Jewish schooling; they simply learned Jewish practices and customs in the home.
It was a great learning experience and such a wonderful opportunity to spend the day with this group. We’re happy that they chose to spend their time in our neck of the woods and I hope this post will encourage some of you with fewer oceans to travel across to make plans to join us soon for your own Southern Jewish experience!
As we approach the winter holidays, one thing will likely dominate our minds: doors.
What? Doors weren’t the first thing on your mind? Come on! We just had the ringing of doorbells on Halloween; next up is the opening of doors to family and friends on Thanksgiving; and this year, that occasion will coincide with the rededication of the Temple’s doors, as we celebrate Hanukkah (and the mash-up “Thanksgivukkah” we keep hearing about).
Understanding that doors play a central place in our secular and religious lives, as the threshold to meaning and community, I wanted to share with you something interesting that I observed while visiting Temple Emanuel in Longview, Texas. There, the mezuzot are affixed to the left side of the doors, not the right; and, they lean outward as opposed to inward.
When I asked the co-president of this Reform congregation how they got into this “unorthodox” position, I was told a fascinating story. Originally, the mezuzot were on correctly. The doors, however, were not, as they opened inwards as opposed to outwards, which is the standard for all public buildings. Thus, the congregation was forced to turn the entire door frame around.
“But, what difference does the door’s direction really make?” I wondered. Then, it hit me! In cases of emergency, the doors in a public building need to open outward as to manage the rapid flow of people exiting. Go ahead. Look around you. I promise that you’ll notice that just about all public buildings’ doors open outward.
“So, where,” you may ask, “do they open inward?”
And here is where we find a powerful message. In outward-opening doors, a public space unconsciously imparts the message of departure and exclusion; whereas, our homes – through their inward opening doors – relates welcoming and inclusion. Likely, that was the original intent behind Emanuel’s construction: to be an extension of home, wherein all would be welcomed.
So as friends and family, neighbors and strangers, get poised to go from door to door this winter holiday season, let us keep in mind that every knock is a knock of opportunity. And, whether the door opens inward or outward, let’s just be mindful to keep it open to all.