“December Dilemma” is the perfect way to describe the mixture of emotions I feel during the holiday season.
I like twinkle lights, but I don’t like how stores start playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving. I love old Claymation Christmas cartoons, Christmas cookies, and Christmas carols. Red and green are great colors that go well together, but I prefer blue and silver. I like shopping for presents, but I hate how busy the mall gets.
I am similarly conflicted about Santa Claus. After years in public school of having to write him letters, and receiving nothing for my efforts, we have a complicated past.
So in the spirit of Sam’s recent delightful letter to Santa, here is mine.
Season’s Greetings. I am sorry that haven’t written since grade school, when my teacher made me write to you. I do not remember what I said in that letter, but it was probably grumpy and insincere. You see, I was the only Jewish kid in my school and I was so tired of having to write you a letter every year. It just seemed fruitless. You bring presents to children around the world, but only those who celebrate Christmas. I understand, I don’t celebrate Christmas and you deliver Christmas presents. It’s like why I don’t get presents on my sister’s birthday.
Even though I knew you would not leave me presents, I still insisted that we leave you your favorite snack, Christmas cookies. I think my Dad knew that you still wouldn’t come, because in Kindergarten I caught him eating your cookies. Bet that never happened to any Christmas-celebrating child…
And now, Santa, I would like to take this time to formally apologize for what I think is probably the biggest rift in our friendship: I am so sorry that I told my Kindergarten class that you were not real.
I don’t remember doing it, but my parents said that they got the call telling them about the horrible lies I was spreading throughout the preschool. I am sincerely sorry, I was just a sad and bitter little Kindergartener. I am sorry for denying your existence. (If it is any consolation, I do not think that the other kids believed me). I regret my actions and any pain, trauma, and trust issues I may have caused those poor children. I hope they didn’t spend too much time in therapy because of this incident.
In the spirit of friendship I would like to invite you to celebrate another holiday together. No it’s not Hanukkah or Kwanza, Festivus or Saturnalia, it’s my birthday. In an odd twist of fate, my birthday is on December 26th. (I must admit, this less than ideal birth date may have added to my dislike of Christmas) But this year, I will keep my chimney chute open and leave out some cookies. We can chat and discuss our differences. It will go down in history as the Great Birthday Mediation of 2014. We can lay a solid foundation for further Jewish-Santa relations in the future, and maybe figure out a way to stop clogging your mail box full of letters from Jewish kids whose teachers make them write to you….just a suggestion.
P.S. I would really love a stand mixer this year.
Confession: I’m still kind of a Yom Kippur rookie.
Yom Kippur has always been a mystery to me. I am from a household of two Jewish parents, but we were not an observant family. The most we did for the High Holidays was having my grandparents over for dinner. I knew Rosh Hashanah was the Jewish New Year, but I did not understand that there was an entire Jewish calendar, and my parents never even approached the subject of Yom Kippur.
Growing up, I always knew I was Jewish, but I didn’t really understand what that meant. I started to learn more about Judaism when I was in college. I sought out the Jewish community and met great friends and also learned a lot about being Jewish. Now, I am living in Jackson, Mississippi, working for a Jewish organization, figuring out my own Jewish observance and traditions—and still trying to figure out Yom Kippur.
Yom Kippur gets a bad rap. We go from indulging in delicious food on Rosh Hashanah to fasting on Yom Kippur—kind of a downer. We go from celebrating to apologizing, from “Happy New Year” to “here’s everything we did wrong last year.” So this year, I wanted to try to figure out what Yom Kippur really means, but mostly, what it really means to me.
So I took a survey. I went around the office at the ISJL asking my fellow Education and Community Engagement Fellows to explain the point of Yom Kippur. The best answer I got was that it marks a period of transition. Like the secular New Year, people make resolutions and promises about how they will do better in the coming year. However, Yom Kippur is not only about looking forward to a bright future; it is also about reflecting on your past.
We spend 10 days in flux and get to think about big questions like:
- “What could I have done better this past year?”
- “Am I where I want to be in life?”
- “How have I changed during this past year?”
It is a time to check in with yourself, to not only make sure that you are doing what makes you happy, but also that you are doing good in the world.
- When was your last random act of kindness?
- When was the last time you volunteered?
- How are you going to give back in the coming year?
I find the best way to grow as a person is by giving back to the communities that have helped me along my own path. Before taking on this new perspective, I had a hard time understanding a holiday where we were supposed to think about all of the bad things we’ve done over the year and feel sorry about them. Now, I am excited to think about Yom Kippur as a time for personal reflection. I am going to sit down and make some goals for the next year, but also reflect on all that I learned, accomplished, and struggled with in 5774.
As of now, I’ve started to think about Yom Kippur like a Yoga class. At the beginning of each class, you set your intention, and I want to go through 5775 intentionally. I will think about what has changed me in the past year, and how that has helped me grow. I will think about how I can contribute to my community on both local and global scales. I will use these reflections to make a plan for how I would like to continue to grow in the future. Maybe this will become my tradition, or maybe my relationship with Yom Kippur will continue to evolve—either way, I’m already starting to understand it a bit better.
Last week was my first adventure on the road as an Education Fellow. I went to Montgomery and Auburn, Alabama, and then continued on to Columbus, Georgia. My road trip buddy for this adventure was Lex Rofes, a second year Education Fellow. We met a lot of new people and had some great experiences. But the best part of our four-day excursion happened at the end—and involved the military.
Early Sunday morning, Lex and I joined some dedicated volunteers from Temple Israel in their weekly pilgrimage to provide the soldiers at Fort Benning with a morning service followed by a food-filled oneg. “Oneg” literally means delight, and usually involves tasty treats and socializing. These soldiers have come to enjoy this delight—and so there were around 600 soldiers who came to enjoy the services and oneg on the Sunday Lex and I were there.
We were invited to participate in services, lay-led by Neil Block, a congregant of Temple Israel who is extremely passionate about this operation. Neil was in the U.S. Navy, and he has made it his responsibility to ensure that the soldiers of Fort Benning have access to Judaism. To him, it does not matter that the majority of the soldiers in attendance are not Jewish. The Jewish soldiers appreciate this weekly gift, but so too do the other men and women in uniform.
Lex observed that this might well be the largest Sunday morning Jewish service in the country. The soldiers come for some quiet time to reflect and of course, for the oneg. Local businesses donate cookies, cakes, bagels, and cream cheese for the weekly oneg. Even with over 600 soldiers in attendance, there was enough for everyone to have a sweet and a bagel. The soldiers were all extremely polite and efficient. In no time at all, everyone was fed and we were out of food!
(I also learned that soldiers in basic training are on a high-protein-low carb diet, so this oneg was a special treat.)
The congregants we volunteered with echoed the sentiment that it did not matter if the soldiers in attendance were Jewish or not; what matters is a positive Jewish presence, and just giving back to the soldiers who serve our country. The 600 soldiers who showed up included people from all faiths. Some ask Neil and the volunteers about Judaism after the service, but most want to hear news from the outside world; they appreciate the sense of connection and community.
Many of the families at Temple Israel have ties to the military, and they are thereby dedicated to serving those who serve our country. It was an amazing experience for me and I cannot wait to go again the next time I am in Columbus. It’s a uniquely Southern and Jewish tribute to our troops, quietly carried out each week with food and fellowship, and I was proud to be a part of it.