Dear Rebbetzin Jungreis,
I love Yom Tov. I love the celebration – to me it’s always a high. But lately I have felt something missing.
I was raised in a totally secular home. My Judaism had little meaning to me. When I reached my middle years, however, I was overcome with a sense of emptiness. My soul kept gnawing at me, saying there must be something more to life than making money, working out, and pampering the body.
So I started on a journey of discovery. I visited many ba’al teshuvah outreach programs. It was particularly exciting to participate in your weekly Hineni Torah classes. I felt spiritually uplifted and intellectually stimulated.
Two years ago I made the decision that it was time to stop playing and become a serious Jew. I made my home kosher and introduced Shabbos observance to my family. It took a lot of adjusting. My husband was resentful. Time and again he told that when we were married this kosher business was not part of the deal. My kids, all young adults, were equally displeased. But I was determined not to cave in and went full speed ahead.
Today my Shabbos and Yom Tov table is a much-sought-after attraction. My children love to come and they invite their cousins and friends. They love the atmosphere, the good wine, the fresh challah, and all the special delicacies I serve.
So why am I writing this letter? Well, I did not make my home kosher, nor did I become Shomer Shabbos, just so that people would come over for my food. But, you might ask, wasn’t that at least part of my goal? To have people sitting around a real Shabbos table?
Certainly I want to see them around my table – but not simply to enjoy the unique dishes that are reflective of Shabbos and Yom Tov. I want them to find nourishment for their souls as well. Why could I not accomplish that? Despite all my efforts, guests would come and go with no change in attitude.
After a while I realized the only thing that may have changed was their waistlines – the kugel, cholent, kishka, and other treats had done their job.
“Why?” I kept asking myself. “Why can I not make that internal change in my children? Where did I go wrong?”
I found a possible answer to my question in a conversation I overheard between a young man and our Hineni rabbi (one of your sons).
“How about joining us in a Torah class?” the rabbi asked the young man.
“Oh,” replied the young man, “I’ve been to many Torah classes in my life but none of them got to me.”
The rabbi looked him directly in the eyes and said, “I believe you when you say you went to many Torah classes – but did those Torah teachings really go into you?”
Those words really hit me. Could this be the answer to my question?
As I wrote above, I am not setting a beautiful table for aesthetic reasons. Nor am I cooking and baking just to satisfy people’s palates. I’m doing it to achieve a larger goal. I am doing it for the sake of Torah – to make Judaism real and beautiful in the hearts and minds of my children.
Unfortunately, however, Shabbos and Yom Tov dinners are the sum total of my children’s – and their peers’ – experience with Judaism. These dinners mean no more to them than going out to a restaurant. Last week I asked my children where they’d be spending the second day of Rosh Hashanah. The answers? Brunch at Aunt Gloria’s, dinner with Cousin Heather, a light meal with a friend named Alice. Their replies left me nonplussed. No one said anything about where, if anywhere, they’d be davening.
This is what Judaism has been reduced to among so many of our young people. A culinary experience. Just ask them what they’ll be doing on Yom Tov and those who aren’t observant won’t mention a synagogue but instead will tell you where they’ll be having dinner.
Surely, one would think, Yom Kippur is different. On Yom Kippur we fast. But I’ve asked a number of young people where they’ll be for Yom Kippur and the responses were all connected to food. “For pre-fast I will be at my parents’ house and for break-fast the family will be by Aunt Ellen.” So even on Yom Kippur, eating eclipses the higher meaning of the Yom Tov.
OK, I get it. Food is very important in our culture. Everyone associates good times with good eating. But given that reality, why is it that I still can’t seem to figure out how to make all that delicious Yom Tov food work in terms of changing the hearts of those around my table?
Rebbetzin, I know how busy you are but I would deeply appreciate it if you would take a few minutes to advise me.
To be continued