Frozenwolf150
Formerly SilentKnight
- Joined
- Dec 10, 2007
- Messages
- 4,134
This isn't a hate speech against organized religion.
I had the rare opportunity to sit in on the high holy day services at an Orthodox Jewish temple, which was part of a religious school. Like some people, I knew Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur as the days public school closed in September for the sake of the large Jewish community living in the area. From my comparative religion studies, I knew Rosh Hashanah is the Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement for solemn reflection and prayer. Yet there's much I still didn't know, that could only come with attending the actual services in person. Several moments stood out, as did teachings and insights into how the Torah is used and what the original authors intended. It's a lesson worth repeating: to take it literally is to miss the point.
For starters, Jewish prayer isn't mere conversation. It's supposed to express beauty in poetic form, or it doesn't count. Some will sway or shuffle in prayer, in order to involve the body, not just the mind and voice. True intent and emotion should come through, in a sense of song and excitement. This is why verses and themes are repeated, and why prayers are symmetric in structure, to get the point across. Many Psalms are used in Jewish services. These are unmistakably poems. Yes, they have their share of hard passages, but the literal details are not the point. The Jews were a slave race struggling to preserve their cultural identity, so the Psalms celebrate their liberation from slavery and their ability to overcome adversity.
The central theme of Rosh Hashanah is to declare God as King. This is not meant in a negative way, to say that God dominates everything like a tyrant. Rather, it means the human institutions that seem to control your life do not have the final say, whether it's a corrupt government, a jerk of a boss, or even your religious leaders; because God is ultimately in charge. People who think they can run your life and push you around need to remember that they answer to God as well. For the Jews, who were constantly being conquered and enslaved by larger civilizations, this was an important lesson in their religious tradition.
A particular story from the Torah that defines Judaism is the binding of Isaac by Abraham. This is another hard passage, and rightly so, because it's downright awful that a father would ever think of killing his own son. However, the lesson can't be derived from the literal details. God was claiming the greatest possible sacrifice from Abraham, and did not promise to raise his son afterwards, therefore it was not meant to be an easy decision. To be Jewish is to be willing to find something valuable worth sacrificing in one's own life. God isn't literally asking that people sacrifice their children, that was hyperbole. Rather, he's asking them to sacrifice smaller things, like time, patience, and effort. This could come in the form of acts of kindness, visiting the sick, comforting the mourning, you name it. The point of the story is that Abraham withstood a test beyond human comprehension or emotion. The story is meant to inspire Jews to find someone who needs help and help them.
Those were the lessons I took away. The services went on for three hours. This week I attended the Yom Kippur services, and this is what I learned.
Yom Kippur is a time of dispensation of vows and pledges, which takes the form of the prayer of Kol Nidre. This applies more to the future than the present. We are all fallible and will often make promises we can't keep. Ideally, any vows are supposed to be fulfilled right away, similar to the commandment against swearing oaths in vain, but this isn't always possible. The purpose of this is tied into the central theme of Yom Kippur, which is atonement and forgiveness for all, including strangers. All people are at fault, which is akin to Christian teaching that all have sinned. This could be construed as a form of equality before the eyes of God. A common misconception about Yom Kippur is that it's meant to be a sad holiday, but this isn't necessarily true since it's a time of asking for forgiveness, which should be cause for happiness.
When did Yom Kippur start traditionally? It was the day God forgave his people for the sin of the golden calf. According to Judaism, after Moses broke the tablets, he returned to the mountain and prayed for forty days for forgiveness. God had at first vowed to destroy the Jews for their sins, but Kol Nidre let him annul this vow. It's interesting to note that in Judaism, God can feel regret and change his mind. It's almost as if they acknowledge God is fallible. Similarly, people change over time and may regret vows made in error. Yom Kippur allows for a fresh start; you are forgiven, and you are free from the bonds of present and future oaths.
The service ran for two hours; the real Yom Kippur service is on Saturday, over the full course of the day. This brings me to the real reason I left religion, or rather, why I didn't voluntarily seek it out again after my exposure to it had lapsed. Religious services are boring. They just go on and on, repeating the same things over and over, and my mind has places it would rather be. I fail to see how organized religion is capable of whipping people into a frenzy or stirring a passion inside them. All I see is monotony, and that's why I wander my own path.
I had the rare opportunity to sit in on the high holy day services at an Orthodox Jewish temple, which was part of a religious school. Like some people, I knew Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur as the days public school closed in September for the sake of the large Jewish community living in the area. From my comparative religion studies, I knew Rosh Hashanah is the Jewish New Year, and Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement for solemn reflection and prayer. Yet there's much I still didn't know, that could only come with attending the actual services in person. Several moments stood out, as did teachings and insights into how the Torah is used and what the original authors intended. It's a lesson worth repeating: to take it literally is to miss the point.
For starters, Jewish prayer isn't mere conversation. It's supposed to express beauty in poetic form, or it doesn't count. Some will sway or shuffle in prayer, in order to involve the body, not just the mind and voice. True intent and emotion should come through, in a sense of song and excitement. This is why verses and themes are repeated, and why prayers are symmetric in structure, to get the point across. Many Psalms are used in Jewish services. These are unmistakably poems. Yes, they have their share of hard passages, but the literal details are not the point. The Jews were a slave race struggling to preserve their cultural identity, so the Psalms celebrate their liberation from slavery and their ability to overcome adversity.
The central theme of Rosh Hashanah is to declare God as King. This is not meant in a negative way, to say that God dominates everything like a tyrant. Rather, it means the human institutions that seem to control your life do not have the final say, whether it's a corrupt government, a jerk of a boss, or even your religious leaders; because God is ultimately in charge. People who think they can run your life and push you around need to remember that they answer to God as well. For the Jews, who were constantly being conquered and enslaved by larger civilizations, this was an important lesson in their religious tradition.
A particular story from the Torah that defines Judaism is the binding of Isaac by Abraham. This is another hard passage, and rightly so, because it's downright awful that a father would ever think of killing his own son. However, the lesson can't be derived from the literal details. God was claiming the greatest possible sacrifice from Abraham, and did not promise to raise his son afterwards, therefore it was not meant to be an easy decision. To be Jewish is to be willing to find something valuable worth sacrificing in one's own life. God isn't literally asking that people sacrifice their children, that was hyperbole. Rather, he's asking them to sacrifice smaller things, like time, patience, and effort. This could come in the form of acts of kindness, visiting the sick, comforting the mourning, you name it. The point of the story is that Abraham withstood a test beyond human comprehension or emotion. The story is meant to inspire Jews to find someone who needs help and help them.
Those were the lessons I took away. The services went on for three hours. This week I attended the Yom Kippur services, and this is what I learned.
Yom Kippur is a time of dispensation of vows and pledges, which takes the form of the prayer of Kol Nidre. This applies more to the future than the present. We are all fallible and will often make promises we can't keep. Ideally, any vows are supposed to be fulfilled right away, similar to the commandment against swearing oaths in vain, but this isn't always possible. The purpose of this is tied into the central theme of Yom Kippur, which is atonement and forgiveness for all, including strangers. All people are at fault, which is akin to Christian teaching that all have sinned. This could be construed as a form of equality before the eyes of God. A common misconception about Yom Kippur is that it's meant to be a sad holiday, but this isn't necessarily true since it's a time of asking for forgiveness, which should be cause for happiness.
When did Yom Kippur start traditionally? It was the day God forgave his people for the sin of the golden calf. According to Judaism, after Moses broke the tablets, he returned to the mountain and prayed for forty days for forgiveness. God had at first vowed to destroy the Jews for their sins, but Kol Nidre let him annul this vow. It's interesting to note that in Judaism, God can feel regret and change his mind. It's almost as if they acknowledge God is fallible. Similarly, people change over time and may regret vows made in error. Yom Kippur allows for a fresh start; you are forgiven, and you are free from the bonds of present and future oaths.
The service ran for two hours; the real Yom Kippur service is on Saturday, over the full course of the day. This brings me to the real reason I left religion, or rather, why I didn't voluntarily seek it out again after my exposure to it had lapsed. Religious services are boring. They just go on and on, repeating the same things over and over, and my mind has places it would rather be. I fail to see how organized religion is capable of whipping people into a frenzy or stirring a passion inside them. All I see is monotony, and that's why I wander my own path.