Thursday 28 July 2016

Reflections on turning 25: A sermon that can't be delivered.




Last week I turned 25. I had originally written a long post which began like this:

'Traditionally, I've always hated birthdays. It always triggers something of an 'existential' crisis ( a favourite crisis of the modern orthodox). What is the point of it all? Where on earth am I going and what have I achieved? Time can be a cruel thing. It lurks unnoticed and one day you look behind you and wonder where it has gone. And before you lies the chasm between what you thought you could be, should be and are.' 


But then I've deleted the rest. There is a time and place for cynical ranting and it seems rather ungracious to do so when by any standards I have a wonderful life. Also, because intense moods pass and leave with you a slight sense of shame. But the date does lurk every year and poses a challenge: Justify.  25 also seems significant: No longer a child. Nearer to 30 than 20. Hmmm.


Perhaps based on the optimism of teenage years, or the years I spent in organisations promoting 'meaningful' as opposed to 'meaningless' existence, I have struggled and will continue to struggle with the idea of making a mark on the world. Whatever I do I can't escape the fact that most of all, I want to be significant and original. 


Yes, to all Pokemon fans, I want to be very best that no-one ever was. And I'm beginning to understand things I never used to. The pursuit of wealth, for example. Mad, exhausted sleep-deprived city stooges? I get it. Perhaps it is wealth they pursue but perhaps it is also the fact that money is quantifiable. Promotions are quantifiable. Progress and self-actualisation is quite easy to visualise in the drab grey walls they occupy. They can be the best.  


It all seems rather selfish, I must admit.

In fact, sometimes I think PHD theses are trying to project the individual's desire for uniqueness into an obscure study of something fairly irrelevant. 


I know from experience that there is nothing worse than reading something which is very similar to something you have thought on a particular area. Argh, must find a small detail to nitpick and then crush: Yes, x was clearly influenced by outdated structuralist/ historicist perspectives! Ha! I can breath as I send the buffoon back to his lair and I am king again.

I had the same problem with finishing my Masters dissertation. By the end of it I disagreed with almost everything I had said at the beginning and hated the comfy prospect of defining mysticism and analysing Maimonides' writings accordingly to fit into whatever I wanted him to say.

 Because it was not good enough, nothing I could say would do the man justice. So what was I doing?

And this is a problem with writing blogs in general. So much happens in the news, so many emotions are felt and by the time you get round to putting proverbial pen to paper you have changed your mind. 

The problem with wanting to change the world is simply that the only thing you can conceivably actively change it to is some vague imitation of yourself: 
'I wish school could inspire people to value education for its own sake!' 'Shutup Picasso, kids need to learn how to pay taxes and get a job. What you been smoking?' 

To accept that requires a humility that is not easily acquired - most people don't want what I want. Massive medieval Libraries and cricket statues in a castle resembling Hogwarts may seem like heaven to me but I think it would bewilder most other people.

So a few weeks ago I wrote down a few aphorisms that from my little red book of turning 25 as part of the need to feel important upon reaching the landmark; but as I sit here looking at them I have seen that they require heavy editing, but I'll try and leave most of them intact.


 Living in Brighton, I can't really call this Eastern wisdom. Maybe Southern wisdom. Or just Southern trains. Choo Choo.

On Judaism: Judaism will always require a mystical element for it to have any continued relevance to its adherents. No, not necessarily 'Jewish mysticism', much of which is not mystical at all but are simply pieces of information derived from sources considered mystical due to their vaguely kabbalistic and oooh coool connotations. 

I use mystical in the universal sense - that which treats God as real, tangible and important. Sephardim at prayer real. If being religious can ever mean something similar to attending a football match it will have done well. That is something that may have to be found in unexpected areas. 

Broadly speaking, in the modern world this requires a system of thinking that can encompass all Jewish areas of the universal and particular into a worldview that treats both as important. We cannot ignore our minds or our moral compasses, but if your idea of authentic Judaism is something that could have been copied and pasted from the Guardian last week, I'm not interested: Mr. Zeitgeist, go and party with your adherents. That's all I have to say about that. 

Truth be told, if you're unwilling to live in a bubble, experiencing this feeling can be bloody difficult.

On ideologies: You know, one problem I've always had with modernity is its flimsiness - here today gone tomorrow. This has also affected the way groups looking to 'change' things come across. Thou shalt love authenticity; brother. Religion shouldn't just be a social institution, it should be a pursuit of truth. 

The flip side of this is that you need to grapple honestly with issues that don't sit comfortably. If you can't find God in the Gemarah, look for Him elsewhere.

Whatever you think, just be nice about it. Whatever it is. Because it's not the be all and end all. Accept your inherent limitations. When death comes along or pain comes along and we forget our grandiose opinions in an instant anyway..


The 'meaning' of life: You can say meaning is 'made' not 'found' all day but you'll keep asking the question all the same. I think that we want there to be one point in life where we can turn around and say 'It's alright Ma, I made it'. 

The point of Academia: Still not entirely sure. To add to the sum of knowledge? Knowledge that no-one seems to access.

Right now I think it's to try and reassert the link between knowledge and goodness in society, to encourage a quest of discovery that empowers and enthuses the individual as mind and spirit combine in a relentless ascendant search for the ring of power. 

General 'self-help' thoughts (copyright: American publications, anytime between 1980 and now): Don't take anything too seriously, especially yourself. Be good to people regardless of their merits. Invest in personal relationships. Treat God like a relationship and be prepared to struggle, grapple and scratch your head. 


Expect little from human beings but believe in their potential. Because the masses are morons capable of great things. 


Time is best viewed cyclically: You are not the same as you were 1, 5, and 10 years ago. Don't feel guilty about that. Guilt achieves nothing. Just strap in and embrace the journey ahead with all the tools you've acquired. 

Don't preach to people too much about mistakes you've made that they should avoid, mistakes can be the best things you will ever do. Don't worry too much about the future. That old story of a climax and fall in your life, the 'best days of our lives'? Just an illusion. Things sucked then as they do now, you've just forgotten those bits. Be nostalgic about now - play pokemon, it helps. 


People should take flight as they wish; to discover, seek and explore. But you aren't born in a vacuum, don't know everything and someone is always more informed than you. Have humility to see beyond your cleverness. Truth can't be reduced to things you can measure in a lab, and if it could I wouldn't want it. But seek it nonetheless. 


Rock n roll. Keep on keeping on. Listen to Bob Dylan.
 

Friday 8 July 2016

Sex abuse and the referendum: Us and them.




Us and them and after all we're only ordinary men. Pink Floyd.

A lot of things have happened over the last few weeks. 

 For the first time in my life I felt myself emotionally moved by politics, and also realised how strong certain feelings could spill into utter disdain for democracy and the ability of human beings to act wisely. But since then I've calmed down somewhat.

But far more harrowing that week was the breaking news of a scandal in the Jewish community where a sex abuser was retained as a capacity of rabbi by a number of institutions who ignored evidence of his conduct. 

It was particularly scary to read descriptions of his character: Controlling, making those around him emotionally dependant, living through them, crushing their confidence and lifting them out again. Without them realising. This resonated. I have experienced this type of character before, in my own life, and it is terrifying. 

But perhaps the issue that bothers me most comes down to these three words: Us and Them. 

We, the English. We want control of our money, our country, our laws, our people, our heritage. They the foreigners, they the immigrants, they the Europeans. Let them burn. The attitude scares me as a Jew and as a human being. 

Yes, I'm sure some used their calculators to argue that they will in the long term have more cash somehow but the number of slogans and comments suggesting otherwise leads me to think that this was not the only issue at hand.

And you never ask questions when God's on your side. Bob Dylan.

Us, the religious people, us in possession of truth and insight, we the select. When the whole concept of being religious is thought about exclusively in terms of knowledge of texts, Judaism is whatever the rabbi says it is as he's the expert, and Judaism covers all areas of life, he must be right. Or we must protect him as he must have just taken things a bit 'too far' but is essentially well meaning.

Do you see how easy it is to pretend that everything is ok?

You can make all the checks and supervision you want but once you're on the inside it's very hard to take a look at a situation from the outside. Changing attitudes that are so deeply ingrained would seem to some as an impossible struggle. When it's us and them you don't think about much beyond the walls of your mind. 

The tragedy in Israel recently only serves to galvanise this sort of attitude, and clearly I can't blame anyone for thinking that but... Us and them Us and them. Us and them.  

Reading this back, it looks like I have great anger towards being religious. I don't. I love being religious. 
But I used to think that insularity was a personality type or a lifestyle choice. 
But increasingly I see it as dangerous and dark. 
Us...
and them?