Friday 5 August 2016

Do you want to be a saint?



Sometimes religious life is characterised by an odd sort of tension. The world of piety, which aims at a precise, quantifiable perfection and the world of holistic religiosity, which rejects detailed examinations of anything as being overly pedantic. The holistic religious person enters a neighbourhood such as Me'ah She'arim and leaves with bewilderment and a degree of disgust. The pious person feels the same way about going to Tel Aviv or Netanya.

When I was in Israel a few months ago, I observed what I consider to be the difference between a religious society and a pious society. Israel is a secular state, right? Well it isn't, really; even in Tel Aviv, that sin city. Religion plays its part in every aspect of life in Israel, sometimes more subtly than explicitly. It cultivates a particular mindset about the world and has God at its centre in some form or another. But, in a sense, it remains 'natural'. It hovers around regular life but does not necessarily infuse its every aspect by shoving it in your face. 

I don't think this has nothing to do with being 'Frum'. Frumkeit is often derided for being superficial and insincere. I will not go down this road as it seems very unfair to question other people's motives. Rather what I will point out is that groups of people who try to become 'frum' are concerned almost exclusively with piety, the quantifiable aspect of religiosity. Laws, intricate details of Shabbat observance, pots and pans, tzniut, what I should and shouldn't do. Even the perfection of particular traits. 

This is the road to saintliness. From what I have studied, the undercurrent of kabbalistic piety is that religiosity can be quantified. Even a perusal of the mussar literature that remain the works that are cited in terms of Jewish morals and ethics are quite determined to see character development as a systematic, quantifiable entity. There is a road, a path and a clear direction, even if it is difficult to achieve.

But you have to ask the question at one point, do I want to be a saint? No, not some guy who gives afterlife credits via spare body parts but rather do I really want to be perfect in this sense? In a particular, pedantic sense - do I aspire to scrutinise every action to achieve perfection? The honest answer is probably no. 

Why? Because I have never looked up to saint-like behaviour. I see how aspirations towards this way of life leads to boring, clone-like societies dominated by a certain insecurity, fear and looking over the shoulder. I can't bring myself to want that. It was the sort of irritated feeling I got when looking at a shidduch form. 

What I wrote: Keep Shabbat, tick, keep kosher, tick, cover hair tick. 

What I thought: Shut up and go away. Just go away. 

I think that piety is confusing as an aspiration because too often it seems rather irritating and pedantic. And by quantifying everything, the joy and spontaneity associated with mitzvah observance can quickly evaporate. Stop thinking about things that should not be overthought. Especially in the realm of interpersonal behaviour, reading about how to behave will often have the opposite effect.  

 And to many, piety is synonymous with being religious, and this can be extremely off-putting. A nicely drawn ladder of self-improvement seems kind of self-righteous and self-contained. It just isn't relaxed, calm or particularly easy to admire. 

Relationships are all about the details? Erm. Not really. If I was examined on every tiny thing I did all the time I would go bananas. Details have their moments.  

I always think of this one person who is widely admired for mastering his instincts and never getting too emotional but I always thought of him as a robot who has lost touch with fellow human beings. Saintliness might be for some but this-worldly toil and acceptance of fallibility does it much more for others because those people get life as it is.

Does this conflict with religious belief and observance? I think it very much depends what we mean by religious and it often plays out in my head as a battle between myself circa 2010 and myself now. And perhaps therein lies a conflict within how we understand religion itself. Should the direction of religious life be serene, clearly-marked and harmonious like a David Gower cover drive or should it be gritty, tough and fighting like an Alan Border at the crease? 

Steve Waugh, one of the most Australian captains in Test history, spoke of his need to evolve from a dashing young strokemaker to a gritty fighter who would not give away his wicket at all costs. Sometimes you need to figure out the time and place for mr. pious to come to the crease and when to tell him to go away.  

David Gower: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLk3GudLFpg 
Alan Border: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=65xgEnd6LSY