Me and my big mouth

Note: This was originally written several years ago as a subscriber email.

Decades ago when I was in high school, we had a school assembly with a guest speaker. It was the 10 Days of Repentance on the Jewish calendar, and in schools like mine, they would often invite someone with a life story that sounded something like this:

"I grew up differently from you. Then I became an Orthodox Jew." (The rhyming was an accident.)

In this case, the speaker was a convert. She'd been raised as a religious Christian, started asking question that didn't yield satisfying answers, and eventually ended up finding answers she preferred in Judaism. At the end of the 45 minute version of that story, she opened the floor for questions. I'm not totally proud of what happened next, but I raised my hand and asked:

"So, when you were younger, you started questioning your faith. You didn't like the answers you got, so you looked for different answers, outside the religion you were born into, and found them. Is that something you recommend to others, like us?"

It was really quiet for a beat. This wasn't the point of her speech to us. We all knew it.

"Well," she began slowly, "that's what I needed to do, but you don't, because you have the truth right here. You don't need to look anywhere else."

Another pause. But my teenage mouth responded:

"Isn't that what the teachers in your church would have told you?"

A stern look from one of our teachers seated a few rows ahead of me let me know that my turn to speak was over.

The guest speaker reiterated something about the truth being right here with us, and then went on to field more respectful questions.

I was later called into the principal's office and reprimanded, (understandably).

I explained that I wasn't trying to embarrass the speaker; it was just the question that was on my mind based on her talk.

(I try to be more tactful these days, with varying levels of success.)

I think about this incident at least once a year.

On one hand, I understand how and why hearing stories of people from different backgrounds and their journeys to where they are now can be inspiring and enlightening.They often are for me too.

On the other hand, it can be hard for teens (or adults) raised in a particular system, to relate to people who came to a place of similar affiliation on their own, based on a wider exploration process. There's a lot to unpack here, and this is not the place to do all of it, but I will say that for the most part, my high school really did encourage a fair amount of questioning. I think the reason this was chastised was because it was public- had the conversation been a private one with the guest or a teacher afterwards, it might have been more appreciated.

One of the challenges of operating within a structured religious system and/ or raising children therein, is the question of free will.

"Am I only this way because I was born into this culture, this family, this belief system, or is this something I've explored, questioned, researched, and committed to on my own as well?"

In this week's Torah portion, there are some very intense descriptions of blessings and curses connected with moral and immoral living (respectively).

A repeated theme in these Deuteronomy portions is that of "simcha" - joy.

Specifically, creating joy in the service of G-d.

To me, one of the most vital elements in any healthy religious or educational system, is the intentional cultivation of experiential joy.

When schools, teachers, and families incorporate creativity, play, music, art, and fun, learning is more palatable and more memorable.

On the flip side, when the educational experience feels harsh, threatening, punitive, or condemning, lessons are poisoned.

When kids, teens, or adults have theological questions, we should respect them enough to either offer relevant answers, resources, or the confession that we may not have one ready at the moment. But cultivating spaces of joy and connection within our families, institutions, and communities is a healthy starting point for encouraging people to ask their questions and conduct truth-seeking dialogue.