chai seeker

Many religious rituals are very literalistic.  During Passover, we cannot eat leavened bread because the Israelites feeling Egypt had no time to let their bread rise.  Other foods associated with the processing of wheat are also commonly avoided; Ashkenazis avoid most grains, beans, corn, and soy.  What does this literal interpretation afford?  Certainly a study of history.  To understand why one may eat quinoa but not barley during Passover, one must consult the Torah and midrash for the original commandment and interpretations, and learn that quinoa was a new world grain that would never have come into contact with the grain-processing machinery of the Israelites.  But does it impart a better understanding of the urgency with which the Jews fled Egypt?
If I were a rabbi designing a ritual commemoration of Passover I think I might declare that no food may be eaten that takes more than 5 minutes to prepare- and that includes processed foods!  In other words, a PBJ might make the cut, but a cooked pizza, soup, or snickers bar from the vending machine would not.  Food would have to be fast and simple- no time to prepare!  Of course, I do see the point of eating matzah, as this is our approximation of the food the feeling Jews did eat.  On the other hand, perhaps a modern day Exodus would in fact involve a lot of vending machine food and fast-food drive-throughs- we’ve got 30 minutes to leave the city; quick, pull in to McDonald’s!  Of course, this plan does not conceal the identity of the absconding group- so maybe leftovers would be more appropriate.  We’re leaving under the cover of night- dump everything in the fridge into a plastic bag!
I know that refugees do not typically enjoy hot meals of meats, cheeses, and vegetables, so I do find it interesting how well most modern Jews eat during Passover.  I guess in that sense the rabbis chose symbolism over simulation- after all, parsley reminds me of spring about as much as chopped apples and nuts resemble bricks and mortar.
I’m not really sure what conclusion I’ve reached here, if any, except that rituals this old often strike an interesting balance of the literal and the symbolic, and certainly demonstrate how much life changes over the ages and how much stays the same.  Our lives may be filled with luxury during Passover, but the absence of bread is still felt acutely by many who observe Passover.

I have not been very observant of Passover this year.  Rachel and I did hold a seder for my family, and that was a great experience.  We think kale chips will follow parsley in years to come!  Rachel’s powerpoint seder, projected onto our flatscreen TV, was also a success.  I did not follow the food restrictions most of the week because of eating out constantly with my family, but I did follow them this weekend, minus the one frozen girl scout cookie.  Matzah ball soup, matzah pizza, smoothies, and charoset galore.  Tonight I made a beautiful Passover-friendly dinner and then ruined it suddenly and thoroughly by mindlessly pouring nutritional yeast all over my food… how more directly could I possibly violate the no-yeast rule??  I plan to try a little harder tomorrow and Tuesday, and hopefully feel a little more deserving of the feast of chametz that awaits Tuesday night!

I have a lot of drafts of posts started and need to catch up, so I’m posted this short one, even though I’d like to think about it more.  My approach to religion usually branches into two categories: my own personal experience and reactions, and my thoughts about religion as a psychological phenomenon: its origins, its utility, its epistemology.  I have been thinking about psychological accounts of religion recently because the topic has come up at conferences and in my classes.

A week ago I was at the Society for Personality and Social Psychology conference in Las Vegas and attended several talks about religion and violence.  Religion is often thought of as a terror management strategy: that is, life is full of unpredictable terrors, and religion is our psychological invention to handle these terrors, classify them, and understand them in terms that give meaning and allow us to feel that we can ward them off.  In Judaism, I think this is reflected in prayer and ritual as forms of control, attributing military victories to G-d (particularly in early Judaism), and attaching (particular) spiritual purpose to the lives of Jewish people.  Terror management theory predicts that religion will assuage the anxiety and sometimes terror that life brings in so many forms, and there are data to support this.  Does this theory capture the purpose of religion, however, or just one effect of it?  Is religion simply a way to circumvent, explain away, or numb pain and terror?  I don’t believe so.  If religion, in this case Judaism, does these things, I believe it is through confrontation, not avoidance.  Judaism confronts the pain in life and wisely asks us to share it with others- to say kaddish together, to pray together, to work for a better world together.  I think modern Judaism rightly assigns moral value to our actions, asks us to take responsibility for our actions, and teaches us lessons about the consequences of our actions.  Judaism also tells us to bless what is good in our lives, and separate what is good from what is bad.  If these actions help us deal with the terror of living in this world, then Judaism has served one purpose- but I think this one purpose alone would never suffice to give us the richness of Judaism- the community, the celebration, the evolution of moral law, and so on.  Terror management may be one consequence of living Jewishly, but I don’t think it is the most important one.

Other research focused on the connection between religion and violence.  Across all religions studied, attendance at religious services- but NOT prayer- increased participants’ endorsement of violent solutions to conflicts.  This effect appeared to be caused by the in-group phenomenon- prioritizing your (religious) group at the expense of other groups or individuals.  Is this a good or bad effect of religion?  Are we fighting to preserve our people, our way of life, or both?  Is this more than tribalism?

Another psychological theory of religion is the idea that the rituals and beliefs involved in a religion are unusual or extraordinary precisely so that an tight-knit in-group can be formed.  A person is unlikely to go through all the measures of action and belief required by most religions unless truly committed to the religion, so adherence to practices that take up our valuable time and energy or require leaps of faith signify true commitment to the group.  Mimicry, a common element of ritual, is in fact shown to increase liking between two persons, so ritual may seal this bond between members of the group, ensuring their liking and loyalty, and the security of the group.

I discussed these ideas with several other students in my department (secular Jews, coincidentally) and we agreed again that these phenomena may very well apply to religion, but certainly they are more general phenomena that apply to all sorts of human groups- clubs, societies, sports teams, military, and so on.  Religious behavior is still human behavior, but again, these findings do not “explain away” religion- they explain elements of it.
Finally, a more positive line of thinking- I often think about the value of specific religious rituals and and the public valuation of these practices.  I could tell my boss that I believe people need to rest, appreciate beauty, and meditate on the purpose of life weekly, but I am much more likely to be excused early from work if I say that I observe Shabbat.  I do not know whether these practices are more than the sum of their parts, but I do think that Judaism (and perhaps religion in general) elevates/ validates/ structures many of the things that I most deeply value.  In the modern world our time is capitalized by many superficial demands and pressure to earn money, promote ideas and products, conform to trends, etc.  The things we truly value- family, life cycle, the environment, prayer, etc- are relegated to “personal” time, something we seem to have less and less of.  I believe these things are of great spiritual value, and if I cannot succeed in paying them proper attention in my personal life, then maybe religion provides the systematic validation and community support for valuing the things we ought to value.  In this way Judaism is indeed an opportunity, an asset, and a source of learning, leading us to further explore and honor those things we rightly value, and draw back from those we do not.