Me, Rabbi.

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Me, Rabbi.

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I am a rabbi.

 

I have a Masters Degree in Hebrew letters and a Doctorate of Divinity, and I am ordained as a rabbi.

 

I have each credential framed, in my office, just behind where I sit.

 

They’re not individually affixed to the wall—they lean against one another in a stack.

 

I like the symbolism.

 

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Although I am a rabbi, I never drank the Kool-Aid.

 

I am a rationalist.

 

Not since childhood have I thought God dictated the Ten Commandments (let alone the first five books of the Bible) to Moses.

 

The scholarship just isn’t there.

 

I cannot believe that Moses told all the words of the Bible to Joshua, who told the elders who—word for word, without mistake—told the prophets, who in turn told the Men of the Great Assembly, who finally wrote them down for fear the perfect transmission would be lost.

 

It just didn’t happen.

 

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When I was ordained, the head of my school—the one conferring smicha (the Hebrew term for rabbinic ordination) upon me—put his hands on my shoulders and then head and told me that I stood in a direct line of transmission stretching all the way back to Moses.

 

I let the moment pass without response.

 

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When I worked at a mainstream temple, I struggled.

 

Wasn’t I supposedly a symbolic exemplar of virtues?

 

Wasn’t I getting paid to talk about truthtelling and truthfulness?

 

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I know love is true.

 

I know we all deserve to be celebrated.

 

And,
I know we all hurt.

 

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My standard response to the question, “Where is your synagogue?” is “I don’t rabbi like that anymore. I prioritize teaching about love.”

 

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Don’t get me wrong: I love Judaism very much.

 

I am proud to have been brought up as a part of this people, this culture, this religion.

 

It’s just that Judaism has taught me to be true to the truth, true to myself, and true to (the) God (of my understanding).

 

Even if that means not rabbi-ing like that any more.

 

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In front of the academic certificates on the table behind me, there is a small framed blackboard. I wrote the following on it:

 

  1. Kindness
  2. God

I tell people, “When we have exhausted the first topic, I will be glad to dive into the second.”

 

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💙

rB

Image of a child doing a shoulder ride.

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77% Weekly Newsletter
77% Weekly Newsletter