I flunked at Torah study, so I'm launching a book group to discuss Jewish women writers. I hope God accepts this substitution.
Every Saturday morning I get a noodge from God. "So, can I interest you in doing something Jewish-like today?" They ask. (My God is nonbinary.)
God has an idea for me. For years, I attended Shabbat morning services at a variety of synagogues. I liked the Torah discussions, but my membership, attendance, and loyalty dimmed to my current description: culturally, but not religiously Jewish.
I do have a Mezuzah affixed to my doorpost. I don't say a prayer when entering and exiting, but I do tap my fingers to the case.
I light Shabbat candles Friday nights. My ritual is as self-designed as the Mezuzah's. I retire to bed early and have a dog. I fear lit candles, without my watch, could be dangerous. So, I set a match to the wax hours before designated CST. I do recite the accompanying prayer. I hope that garners points.
On this particular Saturday, I tuned in to a podcast, "Can We Talk?" hosted by the Jewish Women's Archive. As I listened, I could feel another God-noodge.
"Darling," They said. "You host a successful social justice Zoom group to discuss books by Black authors. Would it kill you to do another for Jewish women authors?"
"No men?" I asked.
"Philip Roth, Saul Bellow, and Bernard Malamud have hogged the spotlight enough," They said. "Push women to the front of the stage."
That suggestion from God didn't shock because that notion had long been twirling after I read Sarah Hurwitz's "Here All Along."
But like many ideas that invade my brain, I filed it into my, When I Get Bored folder.
I am not bored; I am energized and intrigued. My Zoom group that reads only Black authors has been together 22 months and has read as many books. Our goal has been to recognize unacknowledged racial history. There are 20-25 women and a few men. Most people are white, a handful are Black. We meet on the second Tuesday of every month, 2 p.m. CST.
Surely I could read more than one book a month, I told myself. As host, though, I do more than that. I select the text, and compile my version of Cliff Notes that my group will discuss.
I was not always a struggling Jew. God was quite pleased with me in 1989 when I was a member of the Jewish Reconstructionist Synagogue in Evanston, IL. I pinned my interest then to the absence of our two children. They were grown and out of the house. As empty nesters, my spouse and I needed a project to bring us together.
Rabbi Arnold Rachlis was the charismatic leader. Within a year, I studied for, and was honored at a Bat Mitzvah. I was 51. Later, I became a member of the Board.
My speech, presented to friends and family in the synagogue Social room was similar to Hurwitz's book. Mine was titled, "Jewish All Along," but alas; no linkable copy.
Soon after, my world changed. Our marriage of 30 years ended. My willingness to sit alone at services sheared my close link to Judaism.
After a few years, I revived. I attended Torah study at Chicago Sinai. When I moved to Los Angeles for nine months, Temple Israel of Hollywood became my synagogue. Mishkan Chicago and KAM Isaiah Israel in Hyde Park followed. But with each, ennui eventually emerged.
I applaud all of the members I met during those stints of Torah study. They have been devoted learners and debaters. I continue to admire those who read the weekly Torahportion as an additional focus of our religion. But for some reason, even when I'm alerted to the latest Torah discussions, I fail to follow through.
I still want a connection to Jewish learning and discussion, so I'm taking God's request to heart and establishing my Jewish Women Writers Zoom group.
The learning part relates to my own lack of insight on various subjects. So I'm taking the opportunity to learn more about Jewish women with disabilities by schedulingRiva Lehrer's memoir, "Golem Girl." She will launch my additional Zoom discussion group on Tuesday, February 22, 2 p.m. CST. Riva will join us.
For the next session, March 22, 2 p.m. CST, I'm already reading Dara Horn's nonfiction, "People Like Dead Jews," and look forward to a lively conversation on this recently published book.
Just as everyone is welcome in my Black author discussion group, I truly hope that people of any color, gender, or faith will join in.
Hopefully, this will make Them happy.