you can also just say, “It’s snowing.”
It is really the range or spectrum of Jewishness that makes it difficult to describe or explain. An Israeli friend of mine describes it as a continuum. You can go from the ultra-Orthodox Jew all the way to the most liberal Reform Jew, from the extremist to the virtually nonobservant Jew, and still find some similarities of culture or belief. Even though there are more differences than commonalities, all of these people are Jews. While there may be very little that ties them together (even tradition is not a leveling factor), what they do have is a common lineage and a common ancestry—a common history.
When describing things Jewish, I often find myself saying things like, “Some Jews believe ...” or “Reform Jews do not generally follow ...” or “It is not uncommon for some Jews to . . .” The reason for all this hedging is that Jews typically do not agree on many aspects of what it means to be Jewish or of Judaism itself. That doesn’t mean, however, that I can’t give you an overview, a snapshot, or perhaps a sketch of the Jewish way of life—the customs and beliefs, the holidays and festivals, the history and people.
In many instances throughout this book, I introduce a term in one section and more fully explain it in a later chapter. Hebrew and Yiddish words are defined in the glossary along with their correct pronunciations.
Christians and Jews
Going to Church: The Jewish Roots of Christian Worship
Like my parents, I was born in Brooklyn, New York. And like many other post-World War 2 families, mine moved to the suburbs when I was just an infant. However, for many years, we made a weekly pilgrimage to my grandparents’ Brooklyn home in the heart of an East New York commercial and residential neighborhood.
It was in this city atmosphere that I first experienced multi-culturalism at its best. On the streets were people of all racial and ethnic backgrounds, speaking a variety of languages—Italian, Polish, Yiddish, German, Greek, and Russian. Churches and synagogues dotted the neighborhoods, and since we generally visited on Saturday or Sunday, the sidewalks were often filled with families on their way to or from religious services. I observed ministers, rabbis, priests, and nuns (dressed in full habits) on their way to wherever they were going.
My father once told me he clearly remembered a nun speaking a few words of Yiddish to him as a boy when his Italian friends introduced them. Not unlike multilingual shopkeepers in ethnic neighborhoods today, many immigrant Jewish shopkeepers learned to speak enough Italian to do business with their customers. (They encouraged their children to speak English at home while they themselves struggled with the language of their new homeland.) New York was truly a melting pot of sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and humanity.
It was natural, perhaps, that I would develop a fascination for different religions. In elementary school, my “girlfriend’s” father was a pastor. In high school, one of my best friends was Catholic—an Irish Catholic, to be exact. I always marveled at the dramatic change in his behavior when we would pass a nun on the street or walk near his church. He talked to me about the confessional, the sermons, and the catechism. I once took him to sit in on Jewish religious class and laughed at the sight of him wearing a kippah.
The first time I attended a Mass was when a Jewish friend of mine from college married a Catholic woman. Since then, I’ve attended services at churches of many different Christian denominations; the rituals, sermons, and music have always held my attention.
While traveling in Spain, Italy, France, the Czech Republic, and elsewhere in Europe, as well as in Mexico and South America, my wife and I have visited magnificent cathedrals and small, intimate churches. I make it a habit to stay and observe religious services when I can. As a musician, I always marveled at the beautiful sounds of the organ. (Years later I joined a Reform synagogue where the organ is performed at most Sabbath and holiday services.)
In preparing to write this book, I asked friends to allow me to join them at local church services. I wanted to know which elements of Christian worship came directly or indirectly from Jewish worship. How were the services alike?
During my church service attendance, research, observation, and communications with knowledgeable religious leaders, conversations with clergy, laypeople, and other writers, I’ve become familiar with a few of the principal features of worship that Jews and Christians share.
First and foremost, we worship the same God—the God of the Hebrew Scriptures, the God of Abraham, the God who brought the children of Israel out of slavery in Egypt. This is the God who gave us the Ten Commandments. This is the God who Moses worshiped. It is the same God who Jesus worshiped. This came clearly into focus when I visited the Sistine Chapel in Rome: on one great wall, Michelangelo painted scenes from the life of Jesus, and on the opposite wall, he presented scenes from the life of Moses.
When they pray, both Christians and Jews give thanks to God and recite the works of God, recalling what God has done.
Worship services follow a certain sequence. Christians use the Latin word ordo to describe their worship sequence; Jews use the Hebrew word seder (or siddur). These words mean “order.” The order of the services is different, which is to be expected considering the many hundreds of years during which religious practices developed and holiday calendars were modified. (This is the case for Christian holidays that may have once paralleled Jewish holidays, such as Easter and Lent, which have been connected to Passover.)
Both Jewish and Christian services begin with a “call to prayer.” This is followed by prayers, recitation of portions of the Hebrew Scriptures, and readings from the Psalms. Christian services I’ve attended have included readings from Isaiah and the book of Kings.
In Jewish services, a portion from the Torah is read on the Sabbath as well as during other weekly services (see “The Torah and the Law”). In Christian services, there is a reading from one of the Gospels, the books that narrate the life and present the teachings of Jesus.
At some point in the Jewish service, the rabbi or a member of the congregation may deliver a sermon or present some words of teaching. If a Torah portion has been read during the service, this sermon generally incorporates an idea or message from that portion. In the Christian service, a minister or priest delivers a sermon or homily in a similar manner, offering an understanding of the Scripture reading and an application to contemporary life and the community. (Many of the priests and ministers I’ve heard have a good sense of humor, as do most rabbis I’ve met. I guess it goes with the job.)
While attending Christian religious services, I have found some Christian prayers and blessings that closely parallel those included in Jewish services. For example, here is a prayer from Christian worship that may also be sung as a hymn; this prayer has its roots in Isaiah 6:3:
Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of power and might,
Heaven and earth are full of your glory ...
Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.
Here is an example of the portion Jews recite in English (or sing in Hebrew) on the Sabbath and at other services:
Holy, Holy, Holy is the God of all being.
The whole earth is filled with Your glory.
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