Passion

I consider myself very lucky to be the sort of Jew who has had lots of opportunity to explore, grow and change. Rather than be born into a single form of Judaism, I've had the chance to choose it over time.

Over the years I've felt the desire to learn and do more and more. Simultaneously I've been driven towards Orthodox Judaism because I've wanted to "do Judaism" by the rules in order to uncover the more hidden benefits that are nestled inside the mitzvot that don't always make sense.

Very sadly, throughout my life, these two desires -- passion for more and a desire to be with the Orthodox community -- eventually collided repeatedly and destructively.

The time they would do this, more than any other, was at Sukkot and then Simchat Torah. These are times of celebration when all our strict observance throughout the year and especially of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur suddenly explodes into celebration. On Sukkot there is a powerful segment in which we hold lulav and etrog and circle the Torah, praying for Hoshanot which, in my understanding, is a sort of request for continued closeness with G-d in addition to actual deliverance. Then on Simchat Torah there is joyous dancing with Torah in the arms and singing until you're hoarse. Such beautiful expressions of passion for Torah.

Well, as long as you're allowed to do them.

Because in many factions of Orthodox Judaism, if you are a woman, the more you love the Torah, more contained you need to be and the greater distance you need to keep.

Every year the crescendo of the year grows, and then suddenly as we reach the peak, women simply step aside.

Now in my community there is a recent alternative minyan that meets occasionally called Tiferet. It follows the model of Shira Hadasha minyanim in which women and men both participate in the service within halakhic bounds -- actual bounds, not the more artificial ones that have become custom or habit in the majority of Orthodox minyanim. (As an example, women can lead psukei dzimrah, kabbalat shabbat or hallel, but not the portions of the service that require a minyan. In addition, we need a mechitza and cannot count in a minyan.)

I wasn't sure I wanted to become involved. I was nervous about whether it really would be halakhic and even wondered about the motivations of others involved, if they wanted some kind of less serious version of Judaism. But a few years ago our Rabbi triumphantly led the men of our shul outside for Hoshanot and, because I'd asked ahead of time, he made an announcement that women could walk in a circle too. No one did because there was no leadership. I had to struggle to retain any of the prescribed joy of the holiday and I wanted to go home. The men themselves didn't seem terribly enthusiastic. The rabbi was trying hard to bring them into the process emotionally, but their singing was quiet, the tone was lackadaisical. They were missing the simcha that I'd had moments before and that I'd never have a chance to share with the community.

So that's when Evan, the founder of Tiferet approached me. I didn't have to explain how I was feeling. He'd seen this many times before with other women which is exactly the reason he had started the minyan.

I became involved, reluctantly at first, and asked a lot of questions that helped me feel more confident in the halakhic nature of the minyan. I found that I just enjoyed being there more than I did in shul. Then Evan asked me to join the board, and I did, again, reluctantly. Then I accidentally joined a committee that planned an incredible Torah learning event during the summer, and now I realized I'm hooked.

Even more recently, I agreed to coordinate readers for Torah leyning. Since I was having difficulty filling the rotation for our first holiday service (second day of Sukkot), I decided it was time to take the plunge and learn to read myself.

I can't say it was completely new to me. I've read megillah for several years and I've read a few psukim for a women's Simchat Torah leyning, but I wasn't sure I understood the trope correctly. This time I worked and I worked at it, checking in with 4 different people, including U., to make sure I was on target.

In addition, I was asked if I would lead the Hoshanot service. I'd waffled many times before when Evan or Akiva (who co-plans the nitty gritty details with him) had approached me but this time there was no question.

So yesterday Evan held the Torah between the men's and women's side. The men circled on their side, the women circled on theirs, and everyone participated with me calling out the Hashonot in my loudest proudest voice. Let me say that again... everyone participated. Even ND walked beside me carrying her own toy lulav and etrog and didn't once tug on my sleeve or try to speak to me. She could feel the importance. That night when we talked about the good and bad of our day she even named that as one of her most important things.

The leyning, too, was successful. I feel great that I could contribute, proud of what I accomplished, appreciative that others seemed inspired when they approached me afterwards and said, "Was that really your first time?!"

But more important than that, I was allowed to have the passion that the Torah asks of us. I was allowed to pass it on to those around me who maybe are more ambivalent. How often do we hear laments about a lack of passion in the Jewish world, a lack of spirituality, a lack of leadership?

I have it. Thank you for letting me have it. Thank you for letting me, and my passion, lead.