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Posted by Jan Lee Aug 28, 2009 |
The 21st Century is an interesting time to reflect on our Jewish traditions.
The increasing popularity of the Internet and the advent of social media like Facebook and Twitter have given rise to new ways of looking at religious observance (see my article Observing Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur: Nontraditional Programs Provide Options for Religious Jews). For many of us who have grown up and/or accepted more traditional Jewish lifestyles, it is admittedly hard to think about "attending" High Holy Day services via an Internet broadcast.
In this day and age of a decreasing Jewish attendance at synagogues, and increasing migration of people from traditional metropolitan centers however, there may be something to be said for listening to others' new traditions. And even though that may sound like an oxymoron, it is really the way we live life. Few individuals maintain all of the same routines day in and day out; we are constantly reinventing ourselves and defining the meaning we attribute to our lives. We find new ways of accomplishing what is important to our lives when we don't have access to our old methods. We don't lose our identities as Jews when we aren't able to follow historic traditions. We simply find new ways of expressing that identity - or, we find new ways of reestablishing our link with our old traditions. Either way, we don't stay the same.
Two examples come to mind:
Some years ago, my husband and I got together with some friends for a Friday night Shabbat dinner. The preparations were long and festive and as the afternoon drew on, several of us became concerned that we might not be ready to bless the candles by sundown, as is the custom for welcoming in Shabbat and all holidays (Judaism recognizes the start of the day on the preceding evening).
The host was a superb cook and insisted that everything be just right. In anticipation, we got together to discuss what to do. The options were clear to us: 1) Bless the candles and not be ready for Shabbat when we would normally cease all work, or 2) bless the candles after the sun had gone down. To do the first would have been an affront to our cook, who was in the kitchen feverishly cooking up a pot roast and trimmings (his mitzvah for the evening). To do the latter would be to acknowledge labor on the Sabbath.
When it finally came time to light the candles, one member refused to say the blessing, saying that doing so after nightfall would contravene the laws of Shabbat. Her argument was not that we had waited for our host, which she had supported, but that the act of lighting the candles after nightfall was wrong and therefore, one should not light them at all.
The rest of the guests felt that to not light the candles would be to create an effrontery by not acknowledging Shabbat. In honor of Shabbat, and in recognition of our friend's effort to cook us a beautiful meal, we lit the candles, albeit late.
The second example is one many of us have faced before on Yom Kippur. On that day we normally fast from sundown the preceding day to the following evening. And fasting means no food OR water. But what about those who are sick or have to take medication - particularly those medications that are required to be taken with food?
The Talmud stresses that the ill are exempt from fasting (in modern times this includes those taking essential medications). But this exemption often doesn't absolve us of our feelings that we are somehow "cheating" on Yom Kippur: that on "the Shabbat of all Shabbats" we are evading our obligations as Jews.
Temple Emanu-El in
Just the same, I suspect the issue of tradition and technology is a topic we will be revisiting more than once as the global Jewish community moves through the 21st century.
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