Hope you had a good week. I was reading this week’s parshah, Ki Teitzei, and how it discusses who you are when you venture out of your home, your community and your comfort zones. In fact, Ki Teitzei means ‘when you venture out’.
It made me think of questions like whether someone is comfortable showing their identity in the world at large. Would you wear a Magen David on the outside of your shirt? The parshah tells us that we need to carry our identities with us wherever we go. When an Israelite soldier is attracted to a war captive, he must allow her time and space to mourn her previous identity. Then he can marry her and she gains full rights as his wife. Her identity has changed and he remains true to his Jewish identity and its code of ethics.
In today’s world, we’re always sensitive to anti-semitism and the line between the public and the private. The Torah can tell us that we must be firm in who we are, no matter where we are, but that is far easier said than done. A few years ago, my family and I vacationed in rural Texas at Christmas time. We didn’t know it was rural Texas, we thought it was a suburb of Austin. It seems that Texas has quite a bit of open land, so what they consider a suburb is what I would consider ‘the bush’.
But, we only realized that when we arrived at the lovely cabin on the lake…in the middle of nowhere. There were neighbouring cabins we could see here and there. When we walked around the lake we came across a pick-up truck parked with fishing gear, extra clothes and what looked like a rifle or two. As it was December, we definitely noticed all the Christmas decorations and lights around us. In fact, the trees in the forests by the highways were decorated as well. It had the appearance of Christmas tree forests that were growing already decorated.
Living in the city, we’re quite comfortable with the Christmas decorations around this time but we didn’t realize that we are also comforted by the diversity that surrounds us. There was no diversity in this ‘suburb’ in Texas. And so, we had “the” discussion of what happens if we run into a neighbour who might ask about our lack of Christmas doo-dads. Some of our answers ranged from ‘we’re not Christian right now, but thank you so much for asking’ to ‘airlines are so inconsiderate with your luggage these days, am I right?’ We never considered explaining that we’re Jews.
Let me be clear, no one had made us feel unwelcome or was anything but warm and friendly. People in the shops, market, on the road or by the lake were all open and lovely. No one ever asked us about our religion but they always wished us a merry Christmas and we always thanked them and wished them the same.
The question of who we are when we leave our homes, pass the mezuzah on our door, and enter the world, is a real and daily question. How do we navigate multiple identities? When Superman wants to hide his identity, he puts on a suit and glasses and apparently no one is any the wiser. But when Clark Kent sees crime happening, why does he have to change into his Superman suit? Why can’t Clark Kent save the innocent? Superman’s vulnerability isn’t kryptonite, it’s someone finding out that he leads two lives – God forbid someone finds out that at home he lies around in a cape and tights.
I made a new friend this summer. This woman is a devout Christian and her church is central in her life. We shared time together and enjoyed each other’s company and humour. The more she talked about her church, the more I worried about whether it would matter that there was no church in my life. She asked me if faith was important to me and I toyed with the answer: ‘airlines are so inconsiderate with your luggage these days, am I right?’ Instead, I made eye contact and said that religion is very much a part of my life, I’m a Jew.
She couldn’t have been more thrilled. She saw faith as one more thing we had in common.
The parshah this week challenges us about our identities. Who are we when we go to war? Who are we when we encounter vulnerable people? Are we ever willing to re-identify our children as criminals and who are we when there are no witnesses to our actions?
But long before we get to those extremes, we can sit every morning with our coffee, think about the day ahead and ask ourselves who we are when we shut the door behind us.