Confessions of a Scoffer
I have a confession to make. I have no idea what a Super Delegate is. And here’s the embarrassing part. My mother was actually a real live Delegate in the last presidential...
I have a confession to make. I have no idea what a Super Delegate is. And here’s the embarrassing part. My mother was actually a real live Delegate in the last presidential election. In the thick of it I asked her to explain what exactly she would be doing at the convention.
“So, Mom, what exactly will you be doing at the convention?”“Well, Honey, you see the party has bla, bla, bla, and these people are elected by pfffff, pfffp.”“Okay. Love you, Mom.”
It’s a good thing that this election year will be kind of easy for me. This year I’m keeping it really simple. That’s the theme here, simplicity. This single issue voter will be voting for the candidate who seems least likely to harm Israel.
In keeping with the simplicity theme, I want to share something with you. Many great rabbis, including Rabbi Nachman of Breslov, have wonderful things to say about keeping it simple when it comes to faith, prayer, and life in general. I am also elated to announce that, like my mother, I’m pretty sure Hashem still loves me despite my ignorance of economics, what the US trade policy with China should be, and pressing issues before the Supreme Court.
I’m not saying that it’s a good thing to not know. At one point in my life prior to becoming a fully religious person, I would have scoffed at someone who fessed up to such ignorance. I was way into scoffing. I lettered in it. Philosophy majors are really, really into scoffing and arguing and politics, especially if you attended a school right near DC. You needed to be on your toes because you might need to argue with a member of the Young Republicans in the cafeteria, just like that. But the more religious I get, whatever that means, the less I care about politics. That’s the truth.
Many years ago when Rabbi Brody explained to me that all I needed to do was go for a walk in the field behind my house and talk to whatever I imagined God to be, I thought that besides sounding totally loopy, it would not work. I thought Hashem would scoff at me for doing that. Who the heck am I to talk to Him? A. I’m not Jewish. B. I was quite cynical about the idea that Hashem could really be there, mainly because people would mock me for actually thinking such a thing. And C. I spent five years plus studying philosophers who often didn’t have such nice things to say about Him and people who believe in Him. So to simply announce my presence to Him and start chatting was really scary. And too simple.
But the crazy, weird, beautiful reality of it all is that He was there. And He answered really quickly like He was quite happy to hear from my cynical Philosophy major self. You know that’s got to be fun for Him, when the scoffers turn into prayers. But the fact that He takes us as we are without pretense, never fails to get me choked up. It’s just so insanely generous and phenomenal. And comforting. In that state of mind, when you are feeling Hashem and knowing that He has your back, no pretense or politics are necessary. What a delight.
I have found that not knowing so much about politics anymore has actually not had a hugely negative impact on my life. People are still friends with me. In fact, thank Hashem, I have more than ever. I honestly think that being nice to my neighbors and not arguing about Barack Obama accomplishes much more than impressing them with my newsiness. Maybe it’s because now I am much more focused on what Hashem tells us He wants us to focus on, not Sartre and Aristotle. Or Judge Anthony Scalia or what some cynic in “The New Yorker” thinks about, well, anything actually. (But I still love the comics. They’re awesome.)
I know with every fiber of my being that every minute I spend with my son at the playground and making him meals, or blowing bubbles with him while he takes a bath- caring for him and loving him, that’s actually an accomplishment. That’s actually making the world better, as opposed to mocking people who relish such modest endeavors. Every minute we spend together as a family trying to get my son to eat a bite of food- and I mean a bite of anything besides yogurt, please God- or trying to make him laugh when he’s mad because we are trying to cram his feet into a pair of socks – that’s so much more important, those tiny little things, than anything Hillary Clinton or George Bush is saying for the thousandth time.
“Happy is the man that hath not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor stood in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in His law doth he meditate day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by streams of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season, and whose leaf does not wither; and in whatsoever he does he shall prosper” (Psalm 1:1). Amen!
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