It seemed impossible to post here yesterday, and I thought that was curtains for Barth at TPM Cafe.  Today, I find that I continue to exist, so here is what you would have seen here yesterday, if I could have posted it.

No, not of "shock and awe." Just plain awe. The ten days which begin on Rosh Hashanah and end on Yom Kippur are collectively the days of awe. They began on Wednesday evening and rather quietly this year. Maybe it escaped this blogger's ears, but the ritualistic best wishes to "our Jewish friends" did not seem as prevalent this year as in other years. Maybe it is because while bashing Muslims, sending greetings to Jews seems somehow unfair or contradictory.




My religious observation seems to increase by the year. Synagogues have rarely been a place where I want to go, but, since recent years and technologies have allowed me to pray in my living room and, in the morning, while still in pajamas, I have. A childhood as a Reform Jew, which (if anything) I remain, made Rosh Hashanah a one day holiday. I am announcing today, though, that the increasing celebration of the "second day"---the Rosh Hashanah sheni---has finally made its mark on me and will become part of my life next year.

There are several reasons for this. One, perhaps the most significant, will be posted here shortly, but it is not available right now. Another reason is a growing realization that whatever objections I have had to ritual and synagogue attendance (largely traceable to the forced versions of it---including---almost unforgiveably it seemed on that day, on the Sunday after President Kennedy's murder) my Jewishness---the things I have been taught as a Jew, has had an enormous impact on how I see myself as part of the larger community.

So, yes, I watched the webcast of services on Wednesday evening and found this part---roughly the same thing I have heard on the same day every year for more than fifty years---almost screaming out at me, and explaining why the idea that all those who follow Islam are required to pay for the sins of murderers who also claimed to be followers of Islam, so repels me.

It was this passage that crashed over me as I read it in sync with the people on my computer screen:

We shall not hate others; we shall love our neighbors as
ourselves. We shall consider the strangers among us as our own; we
were strangers in the land of Egypt. May all who are oppressed burst
forth from bondage.

Sarah Palin, some hateful pastor in Florida, or Senate candidates in Delaware and Nevada who claim some moral high ground will not preach to me. I have my own faith and it tells me something radically different from what their faith tells them. Fortunately, I live in the United States where, at least at this moment, I am allowed to ignore them and follow different teachings.

Yes, these are days of reflection and hope. L'shana tova.