Sunday and Religion
Boober, recovering from a tantrum.
Most of this morning wasted away in a flu-induced
stupor, in and out of sleep. After a breakfast of corn flakes early
on, I fell asleep on the sofa next to the ever-present pile of clean laundry,
and awoke lying for the most part under the laundry some hours later.
The boychicklech were playing in their room while their father did the
computer thing, so I did a forward version of the Nestea plunge onto the
bed and again let the Z-monster take me.
It's raining again. That huge rug I brought
back from Friday's scavenging had been drying out on the patio. So
much for that.
I had a really meaningful dream during all this
napping. I forgot it.
Yes, friends, it's a dull day. I am not even
thinking any particularly profound philosophical principles today.
The kiddos are sick today too, running mild fevers
and sniffling, so we didn't go to the UU
church, nor indulge in our Sunday tradition of eating lunch out.
I don't feel too spiritually slighted this weekend, though, cuz the local
post chapel did their monthly Jewish services Friday night, and for the
first time ever, we got the date, time and place right.
It was the bat mitzvah of the lay leader's
daughter, and she did exceptionally well leading the services. I
could feel the pride, not just from her dad but from just about all of
us. Oh, incidentally, I didn't know a soul there.
Anyway, it worked out ok, I didn't detect any nasty
looks tossed my way for having the audacity to wear a yarmulke despite
my gender. In fact, I was pretty tickled the two-year-old girl behind
me demanded one of her own, and her mommie got one for her outta the box
of em on the table. Her baby brother had a crocheted one tied on
with a string.
I wonder how much my religious experience differs
from that of converts in the civilian world. I mean, most of my exposure
has been through the Army Jewish community, where rabbis are rare and everybody
is lumped together regardless of whatever movement they are affiliated
with. Seems that a lot more similarities exist among the Army congregations
than between the few civilian congregations I have had the pleasure to
worship with, or between any of those and any of the Army ones. So
far, every Army service has included melodies with which I am familiar,
though only one used the version of Lecha Dodi (the welcoming of
the Sabbath) that I like the best.
There was this one shul in Monterey, California
that I attended for a short while, but I didn't feel particularly welcome.
They were very academic folk, not much of the service was in English, and
I didn't sense a lot of warmth and affection. On the other hand,
the one I went to in New Jersey was almost entirely in English, and though
I loved the fact that the congregation was youthful and family-oriented,
the tone of it came off as kinda playful. The one in Denver was somewhere
in the middle, but there was a tension there I couldn't put my finger on,
something unspoken between the members that came out in body language.
I did like their school, though. They had what appeared to be a full-fledged
elementary school program that looked enticing to me, something I'd like
my boys into.
The one in Mississippi was the most unusual one
of all, though. And probably the most welcoming. I think that
had to do with their membership, almost entirely elderly, and much fewer
than the new-looking synagogue was designed for. All the grandmas
and grandpas were thrilled to see my little men, even if they did add a
bit of noise to the services. What surprised me so much was the organ
and full choir, and the completely unfamiliar melodies. It felt almost
Baptist. But I did get to do the Kaddish for my stepfather,
who'd just died. It was the reason I was there.
Gee, I guess I found something to write about after
all.
link o' the day:
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