As I stand at Mount Sinai, I know – ‘My Judaism defines me’

The approaching holiday, Shavuot, marks G-D giving the Torah to the Jewish people at Mount Sinai. Tradition says all Jews – past, present, and future – were present at Sinai for this momentous event. It was in this spirit that I answered a call for contributions to Rabbi Menachem Creditor’s latest anthology, At the Mountain: An Anthology of Jewish Reflections on God, Commandedness, and Spirituality. As its Amazon description says, “Sinai is not history. It is encounter. It is trembling. It is breath held in the lungs of a people who still haven’t exhaled.” It is an honor to have my words appear alongside distinguished contributors.

Rabbi Creditor asked us all, “What does it mean to stand at Sinai today? Do you believe in God? Do you feel commanded? What makes your life spiritual?” My response might surprise you.

Then again, if you know me, it might not. 

My Judaism defines me.

My Judaism defines me. One could also say so do my blue eyes, my passion for genealogy, my affinity for music of the 60s-70s-80s, my fluency in Hebrew, my joy at being a grandmother to a baby and a toddler and my need to follow rules and do what I am supposed to. But only being Jewish enables me to be at Mount Sinai.

I am Jewish. This is who I am.

Is my Judaism tied to spirituality, or is it connected to religiosity? And what about peoplehood? Do we draw lines…or do we connect dots?

If I say that I believe less that G-D created man and more that man created G-D, does it matter that I attend synagogue almost every Shabbat or participate in a daily Zoom minyan so I can say kaddish for my mother as I mourn her loss this year?

If I do not seek spiritual guidance but only want to understand the psychological underpinnings of behavioral choices, does that mean that the fact that I keep a kosher home is any less valid than those who do it because they believe G-D has commanded we do so?

So why do I do what I do? Does it matter that for me, non-spiritual Judaism informs my identity non-religiously – but then I express that identity in religious practice?

My reasoning – which might not be yours – is first and foremost tied to peoplehood, our shared roots and history of Am Yisrael, the Jewish people.

It isn’t just that being Jewish distinguishes us from those who are not, but that it grounds us as an ancient people with ancient roots who’ve been uprooted countless times.

Our collective history includes rabbinical rulings and writings, yes, but it also sees us displaced and marginalized for as long as we have a history. I think about how we have been a minority everywhere we go and how that and persecution have shaped us. Generational trauma is real.

I know that wherever Am Yisrael sojourns, we are influenced. We see it most vividly in kosher cuisines which vary depending on what is available regionally but also in things like our liturgical melodies.

We have been spread to the four corners of the world – and tied together by the shared experience of how we as strangers are treated everywhere we go.

Antisemitism through the ages, even now, I think draws us closer, helps us cement our Jewish identity and strengthen our sense of community.

For me personally, religious observance is not a result of spirituality but a byproduct of peoplehood and identity – I need to show my people who have survived to this day that they did not go through what they did so that I could lose the thread connecting me to them. I owe my ancestors my existence. And I see religious observance as the Jewish way to honor theirs.

Today, as I stand at the foot of my own personal Mount Sinai, I bear witness to all those who came before me.

I know I am not alone.

My daily minhah minyan is proof of that. Fellow congregants make it a point to come together on Zoom to ensure that I can say Mourner’s Kaddish for my mother. We are a living breathing community that facilitates each other’s ability to practice our religion no matter what our individual motives. I myself do not recite Mourner’s Kaddish with a daily minyan because of spiritual belief, but more out a compulsion to follow the rules, do the right thing in my mother’s memory. As a Jew. I want to do what I am supposed to.

My Judaism defines me.

“My Judaism defines me,” from At the Mountain, is reprinted with permission.