As some of you may know, I’ve taken a strong interest in Judaism over the last year. Last year I undertook a medieval occult ritual loosely inspired by Kabbalah, part of which involved rigorous study of Jewish scriptures. I went into this as an atheist - I wasn’t doing it because I literally expected to unlock magical powers or a personal connection to God, but because I believed it would be a good way to learn about myself and to trigger a mystical experience that I hoped would give my life direction. I’m not entirely sure that I’m not still an atheist - at this point, I identify strongly with the teachings of R. Morcechai Kaplan, who interpreted God as being that which exists within us and inspires us to be the best possible versions of ourselves. I’m sort of a non-specific pantheist/agnostic of the “God is nothing, and therefore God is everything” POV these days.
Anyway, a large part of what came out of me performing that ritual was that I wanted to learn more about Judaism and potentially convert in the future. There are only two Jewish congregations in my area - a Chabad, which I know isn’t right for me, and a Reconstructionist temple, which REALLY speaks to my sensibilities. I’ve found great wisdom in the idea that tradition and ritual can have value even if you don’t believe the stories inspiring it are true, because one can still derive wisdom from those teachings, and because those kind of practices are what tie a civilization together and keep it going for hundreds and thousands of years.
Last fall I signed up for an Intro to Judaism class online. It’s administered by the rabbi of said local Reconstructionist temple, who chairs our state association of non-Orthodox rabbis, and has a rotating cast of rabbis from all around the state (but mostly Seattle) who’ve been teaching on a variety of topics. Despite being about two-thirds of the way through the class, however, I had not yet worked up the courage to actually set foot in the temple. I tend to be shy and introverted by nature, and I’m very uncomfortable in unfamiliar places where I don’t know what to expect. I had made plans previously to attend a Shabbat service a couple of times, but I chickened out. As it happened, however, I had tonight off of work, it was Erev Purim, and the temple was holding a Purim event. I figured that a casual, lighthearted event like Purim was the best opportunity I’d possibly have to dip my toe into the waters.
I was EXTREMELY nervous and afraid. I literally had a nightmare about attending the service last night. I spent most of the afternoon with butterflies in my stomach trying to calm my nerves. I went to the convenience store around the corner from my house and bought a box of Kraft Mac & Cheese, which the temple’s website recommended both as a donation to the county food bank and for use as a grogger. I took the bus downtown. I sat in the park around the corner from the temple for twenty minutes trying to work up the courage to walk over there. I walked down the block and across the street from the temple. I slowly walked down the sidewalk on the other side of the street, watching people walk in to see what they were doing so I wouldn’t seem out of place. I thought about turning around and going home. I made myself cross the street, walk into the parking lot, and towards the gate, where a greeter dressed as The Man In The Yellow Hat from the Curious George books was sitting.
“Hi! Happy Purim! You are here for Purim, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m David.”
“I’m John. This is my first time here. I’m a student in Rabbi Seth’s class online.”
“Welcome! Let me walk you in. I’ll introduce you.”
He introduced me to a few people and helped me find a seat in the conference room (not the main sanctuary) where the event was being held. I explained that I was a student, that I wasn’t in a conversion process but was considering it in the future, and that I just wanted to watch and follow along and learn. There were long tables set out cafeteria-style, with a lectern at one end of the room. I actually recognized one person there, who works the self-checkout at a grocery store I sometimes stop at on my days off. There were plates of homemade hamantaschen sitting out on the table, with numerous fillings - the traditional poppyseeds, a prune+walnut mix, lemon curd, raspberry jam, and Nutella. They also served cheese pizza from a local pizzeria, which the rabbi would jokingly explain counts as a traditional Jewish food because if you fold it up just right it looks like hamantaschen. I didn’t wear a costume, but there were some great ones on display - one teenager who’s apparently a bit of a chemistry nerd dressed up as the chemical diagram of an ester for the sake of the pun, and I wound up sitting across from a guy who was dressed as Wayne Campbell from Wayne’s World, complete with the hat and mullet.
The rabbi himself was dressed up as Pete Hegseth, with faux tattoo sleeves, a pair of kettle bells, a flag tie, and a large nametag with “Department of ̶D̶e̶f̶e̶n̶s̶e̶ War” written on it. Before the Megillah reading got underway, he gave a brief sermon in which he said that celebrating Purim is an act of resistance against authoritarianism and patriarchy, comparing Haman to Trump and Hegseth and Stephen Miller and urging us to shake our groggers at their names. (I DEFINITELY made the right choice in finding a congregation that’s politically aligned with my own sensibilities.)
For the most part, the Megillah reading was in English, from an abbreviated version written for a general audience. The rabbi took volunteers from the congregation to read each chapter. I would’ve loved to participate, but I’m not Jewish yet - for now, I’m solely there to watch and follow along and learn. For the sixth chapter, the rabbi called up one of their cantors, who read the chapter first in Hebrew in full cantillation, followed by the simplified English version. This was the first time I’ve gotten to see Hebrew cantillation live and it was very impressive and elicited a round of applause from the congregation. The rabbi mentioned that next year he’d like to be able to do the full Megillah in both Hebrew and English, and that they’re having signups for anyone who wants to learn how to cantillate. The cantor was also the one who baked the hamantaschen with the help of the kids from the congregation, and he announced that he had used his late mother’s recipe, which he’s been baking for the temple for 30 years now, and he had copies of it if anybody wanted one. I made sure to pick one up.
There were a couple pauses during the reading. For the first, the rabbi invited the children of the congregation onstage to tell jokes. It was very simple kid jokes, as you can imagine, but it was fun to see them perform, and there was one kid who did an absolutely stellar performance of the “Orange you glad I didn’t say banana again?” chestnut. For the second, the rabbi asked the audience to shout out words for a Mad Libs sermon he would be giving later. At the end of the story, the rabbi declared that, in his alter ego as Pete Hegseth, he’d had a change of heart and crossed out the “War” on his nametag to change it to “Department of Peace”. After the conclusion of the Megillah, he gave that sermon - a humorous account of how the Israelites had been wandering in Brooklyn for 6-7 years and had taken to wearing mixed fabrics, which angered God so much that he sent vicious giraffes to lay waste to them until they agreed that during Sukkot they would build condos and sacrifice elephants while singing ‘The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald’.
For the finale of the evening’s events, they set up some pinatas and invited people to take a whack at them. One for the kids, one for the adults. The adult who took the last swing at their pinata hit it so hard that it broke off the string, flew across the room, and landed directly IN MY LAP with the baggies of candy spilling out all over. I can’t help but think that that’s some kind of sign that I didn’t choose wrongly in deciding to attend this event.
I’m glad I attended. I’ve been putting this off for too long. I’m glad I chose such a festive and lighthearted event for my first experience. I’m less frightened now about attending an actual Shabbat service, which I’m going to try to do in the next week or two. I went ahead and bought a ticket for the community Seder the temple is holding next month. I’ve wanted to attend a Seder since long before I became interested in actually becoming Jewish, and I’m very excited about this next step.
Just wanted to share.
