Black And White Nights
Heshy Wedstein2011ContestsWinter 2011 Contest
Credit: Lel4nd
My favorite Bon Jovi song plays in my ears as I sit on my balcony in Meah Shearim on a Thursday evening in the baking heat. Who are you to tell me how to live my life? My mind wanders. The music, the heat, the bustle of traffic and pedestrians on the street below, bring to mind events of last summer. After two months in the Mir I had begun to seek experiences of a different kind, the intoxicating rush of discovering worlds I never knew existed, marred at the same time by feelings of guilt and anger at those people that locked me into this prison in the first place.
Back then I had a friend named Yisroel, who shared my insatiable curiosity about the world, the sense that we were missing out, that maybe life was not meant to be centered around a set of books compiled two millennia ago. We spent hours, Yisroel and I, on this same balcony, above the heads of Meah Shearim residents, debating, arguing, probing the mysteries of life and thinking about plans for the future, all the while desperate to discover what went on in the free world, or at least what we thought of as free. So far from those experiences and yet so desperate to reach them, we felt like mountain climbers scaling slopes of ignorance, heading, grip by tenacious grip, towards peaks of enlightenment.
After all those long discussions we decided one evening to put our resolve to the test. We rented a car and headed to Tel Aviv, our black pants and white shirts tossed haphazardly across the back seat, on our bodies new t-shirts and jeans, our peyos wound tightly above our heads and hidden under baseball caps. Israeli pop music blasted from the speakers, and we felt free, exalted, ready to conquer the world and all it had to offer, all that we’d been denied until that evening.
In Tel Aviv, nearly drunk with adrenaline, we headed to a bar recommended by a friend of Yisroel’s, one who had already joined the free world, having long arrived at the destination of the trip we were just embarking on. Yisroel and I found seats, ordered a few beers, and settled down to schmooze. Our confidence soon gave way to apprehension as the bar began to fill up. It was a little after ten o’clock, and a DJ began to spin the latest hits. Small clusters of young chilonim stood around, laughing, chatting, guys and girls flirting with each other in anticipation of what the night would bring. Yisroel and I exchanged nervous glances. So this was it, the real world, unfettered by all the tiring restrictions our own lives had thrust upon us.
The girl that caught my eye was over near the DJ, just off the center of the dance floor, gyrating to the music. I hadn’t seen her arrive, but she appeared to be alone. My eyes were glued to her swaying hips, her long and carefree dark reddish hair sliding around her shoulders in perfect obedience to her body’s movements. I was fast becoming smitten with her. I imagined us deeply in love, in nights filled with youthful passion, living our lives the way people our age were meant to be living them.
Yisroel shoved me with his elbow, my sweet fantasy suffering a violent collapse.
“Heshy, stop staring!” He rolled his eyes. “Your mouth’s hanging open and you’re almost drooling.”
I quickly averted my eyes, uncertain about the rules of etiquette, the social norms to which we were entirely unaccustomed.
“But doesn’t she look amazing?” I murmured, and then reflected on my own diffident manner, the confident swagger that I’d imagined myself employing in a place like this now nowhere to be found.
The girl, meanwhile, moved towards the bar and ordered herself a drink. Yisroel threw me a glance, as if he had something to say but was holding back. Then, with a dismissive shrug, he said, “Hey, if you like her so much, send her a drink.”
I smirked.
“Kid, you’ve watched too many movies. That’s not what they do in real life.”
“Oh, yes they do.” His expression showed the kind of certainty with which I couldn’t argue. He, after all, had a friend on the outside. He now knew things that I didn’t, and I was silenced by his implied superiority.
I waited for our server to come around to our table. She looked to be a few years older than us, with a t-shirt a size too small and an ass that looked like it knew things about the world. I expected her to chuckle at my request, my tone hesitant as I asked her to give the girl another of whatever she was drinking. But the server said nothing, headed directly to the bar and then to the girl, the amber-colored beer bottle in her hand glistening with beads of moisture. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the girl accept the drink with a bright smile, the glimmer in her eyes sending me a mixture of warm feelings and sudden panic. I shrank low into my seat, suddenly wishing to disappear. The waitress gestured in my direction, and my face went down about level with the table, but not so low that I didn’t notice the girl’s cheery wave of thanks. I straightened up quickly and waved in return. Suddenly I felt cool, victorious, a man of the world.
And then, momentarily distracted elsewhere, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and there she was, the girl, her beauty even more apparent up close. I felt myself go faint, my heart nearly failing me.
“Hi, I’m Shiran,” she said, extending her hand as she spoke. “Thanks for the drink. How are you enjoying it here?”
I stared at her outstretched hand and froze. A thousand thoughts rushed through my head. Aren’t I shomer negiah? Or, um, maybe not? What would my parents say if they saw me here? Will I go to hell if I shake her hand? As if driven by an external force, my hand reached for hers. Skin touched skin. The soft grip of her small hand inflamed my desire, making me think of the rest of her.
Somehow I managed a response.
“Hey. I’m, um, Jake. Nice to meet you.” Jake being the first name that came to mind.
“Hey Jake, nice to meet you.” She looked first at the empty stool next to me and then expectantly up at me. “Mind if I sit here?” Yisroel and I shook our heads vigorously, no, we didn’t mind, and then she was sitting there, only inches from me.
We made small talk. We were from New York, we told her. She giggled and told us she was from a nearby kibbutz, her parents American.
“They made aliyah when I was very young,” she said, brushing away a strand of dark auburn hair that had fallen over her right eye.
Yisroel looked up at a TV screen over the bar, a basketball game in progress, another thing he learned about from his friend who’d already left. Shiran talked about her parents, her kibbutz, her thoughts about life in Israel while I sipped my beer and thought of things to say, coming up with little.
Then out of the blue: “Wanna dance?” Her lips held a gentle smile as she batted her eyelids. Dance? I froze. How do I do that? Shiran grabbed my hand, not noticing me flinch slightly.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
I had already downed a good number of beers, and I searched in vain for any powers of resistance. This is so wrong, I thought as she led me to the dance floor. Her hips began to gyrate, her sneakered feet shifting with ease, while my mind sought to comprehend how I ended up talking to a girl, now dancing with one, my gemora, shtender, and rabbeim trillions of light years away. Her movements, as I watched them, were seductive, and I tried to follow her lead, clumsily, desperate not to look stupid.
Soon we were sitting again with another round of drinks, Yisroel at the bar watching the game. And she started to inquire about me. What was I doing in Israel? How long was I staying? What did I do back in America? And so on. In response to which I invented a fantasy life for myself. I was a college student, taking some time off for travel, discovering Israel, taking advantage of the respite between years of schooling and the onset of life. Yada, yada.
She looked at me with a flirty smile.
“You know, you look like my old boyfriend.” I felt my cheeks flush, grateful it was too dark for her to notice. She reached up and brushed her index finger across my jaw. My whole body felt… alive, holy shit, how can a mere finger on one’s jaw feel so damn good? I imagined what the real thing must feel like. Her finger fell away, and I imagined the spot on my face glowing, as if electrified by her touch, imbued with light. She reached up playfully to remove my most essential piece of clothing, my baseball cap, without which I wouldn’t dream of walking in here. My heart skipped a beat and my hand flew up to hold it in place. Surprised, she let it pass, probably thinking I was just playing, and we continued to talk. Two minutes later she reached up swiftly and with a giggle she grabbed the cap off my head. And there they were, in full glory, my payos, unmistakably branding me as an outcast, a yeshiva bochur, and worst of all, a liar.
My senses were suddenly dulled, she was saying something but my hearing was gone. I stared at the table wishing desperately to evaporate into air, nothingness being better than the fraud that I was. I watched her face but I couldn’t see her, only the image of her in my mind, with a look of sheer disgust. I imagined her thoughts, imagined her revolted at what she now saw before her: a liar and a fraud. A yeshiva bochur instead of an American college boy. A Charedi. A dos who shouldn’t be here to begin with and then too cowardly to tell the truth. A waste of a perfectly good evening.
Almost faint with embarrassment, I mumbled something and walked/ran over to Yisroel, who was oblivious to the whole crushing saga, relaxed and watching the game on TV. I grabbed his shoulder.
“We gotta get outta here! Now!” I knew that the whole bar now knew we didn’t belong, staring at us accusingly, murmuring, whispering, laughing.
Yisroel couldn’t see it.
“Who, what, when, why?” he spluttered. The game wasn’t finished. I gave him a look of desperation, please, just let’s get out. I turned and headed for the door, and Yisroel followed reluctantly.
The first thing I did was drag Yisroel to the nearest open grocery store and we bought a big bottle of vodka. We made our way to the beach. Sitting on the warm sand, I told him what happened with Shiran. He commiserated, but it was little consolation. Even the waves, normally so soothing, now seemed threatening, as if they too had it in for me. I felt almost detached from my body, from the material world around me, as if I was hovering above the sand, floating in a haze of confusion and despondency. The phrase, ghettos of the mind, popped into my head out of nowhere. Then a saying from Nietzsche: Convictions are more dangerous for truth than lies. As I desperately gulped down vodka straight from the bottle, trying to escape this confusing world, an overwhelming sense of pain and anger washed over me, an all-consuming rage at those people who did this to me, who caused me to feel so incompetent. I felt the indescribable pain of indecision. If only my life was at a simple crossroads, left or right, how easy. But there were no two roads, instead there was a mess of a million paths converging, winding, twisting like a sloppy lump of spaghetti, each one confusing and woefully beyond my reach.
I looked up at the night sky and wondered what I would say to God if I was to come before him right now. Would I scream and yell? Would I weep for forgiveness? Did He even feel my pain? Was He angry at me? Did He still love me? I pushed those thoughts aside as I drifted into a deep, alcohol-fueled sleep right there on the sand, and dreamt of nothing, nothing at all.
45 Responses
This is one of the best pieces on here. Loved it.
Hedyot — I agree. A personal favorite.
This is an article imbued with deep emotion and confusion. Beautifully written and very heartfelt. I’m not sure what demographic this site caters to, but all you’re missing out on is endless nights of blueballs and masterbation. That’s what the “free world” has to offer. All those guys in all those bars flirting with all those girls end up going home alone only to “take care of their own business”. King Solomon hit the nail on the head when he said “Hevel Havulim…”. Some people need to come to this realization on their own. Good luck and try to have fun.
The writing is a little overwrought, honestly, but that’s a product of exposure to nothing but ‘frum’ print products.
Otherwise, this is as accurate a description as any of the first foray into the ‘goyishe’ world.
Hedyot and Shulem – I wholeheartedly agree.
Heshy has captured so well those feelings of self-doubt and uncertainty. I know first hand exactly what those feelings are like, as – I’m sure – do so many of us who are finally asking those big questions that we had never dared asked ourselves before:
Does Hashem really care about me or what I do? When I daven – how do I know that I’m not just mumbling to a wall? Why did my parents lovingly raise me to live this lifestyle if they weren’t certain it’s the best way to live? If the Torah is really true – why are there so many inconsistencies and utterly ridiculous things in it?
And, just as important – is the “Frei” life really all that much better? Don’t they also eat and defecate and have sex and worry about money, etc. etc. just like Frum people do? And how “free” are they anyway? Can they break the laws of gravity? Will people truly care about me any more in that world than in the Frum world? And what if the Torah really is true – is it worth the risk and the inevitable guilt (or is that just the Frum world and it’s fear factor trying to lock me in)?
Can there really be clear answers? Is there any hope to clear up the confusion? Do OTD people actually have answers to these questions any more than the Frum or have they simply decided to stop thinking about them?
AAH — “The writing is a little overwrought, honestly…
True, although I’m not sure it’s necessarily a “frum” thing. Reminds me more of the typical Jewish mother who tells her children she wants to kill herself because they don’t call. Or, better yet, perhaps an Israeli thing. As someone once pointed out, Hebrew has no word for “understatement.”
Chay Nobody —
“And, just as important – is the “Frei” life really all that much better? Don’t they also eat and defecate and have sex and worry about money, etc. etc. just like Frum people do?”
Yes, they do. But they don’t have a million restrictions on the most mundane aspects of life. And, more importantly, they don’t live in a world where individual aspirations are so forcefully and regularly suppressed. I wouldn’t say it’s objectively better. Only that the frum world is — by all accounts — a tough life to live, and if one doesn’t feel that the restrictions are enriching on some level, then why live it?
“And what if the Torah really is true…”
It isn’t. Problem solved.
Shulem Deen; How often do you get laid? (Without paying for it). The draw frum people feel towards the “free world” is sex drugs and rock n roll. Drugs suck. Rock doesn’t. Sex drives everyone crazy and is sought after by goyim just as much as frumies. Most are unsuccesful. Think about it guys.
Gig — “The draw frum people feel towards the “free world” is sex drugs and rock n roll.”
Sorry, but that’s just typical frum ignorance. You may want it to be that way, but there are plenty of people who leave the frum world simply to pursue self-directed lives.
Aside from that, sex, drugs (some of them, at least), and rock and roll aren’t so bad either. Although I don’t see why anyone would have to leave the frum world for those.
I’m flattered at your assumption that I am frum. If you delve into the underlying reasons for someone to give up a 3,000 year tradition it boils down to one of those three (usually sex). Please enlighten me of the other reasons. Intellectual? Non-sense. Freedom? To do what? Etc.
Gig – you don’t seem to be frum. If you were, you would have found a sufficient answer to your question in theses words of Shulem: “Only that the frum world is — by all accounts — a tough life to live, and if one doesn’t feel that the restrictions are enriching on some level, then why live it?”
אילו היה נברא אנפאיות, רק לזה ארטיקל, דיינו
Love love it! Probably because I can associate with every part of it, but still, love it.
Gig, when is the last time you got laid with a woman who shaved her armpits instead of her head? And no that bucher you fooled around with in yeshivah doesn’t count.
Wow Heshy a beautiful piece , I can so relate to NOT feeling like you really “belong” in the outside world , to a variation of the feeling ; oh my G-d I am sure everybody in this bar is labeling me with 100s of labels and every girl is revolted by my beard, as I have written about on this website http://www.unpious.com/2011/03/%E2%80%9Che-who-acquires-wisdom%E2%80%9D/ . This piece really resonated with me (its not a proper sentence but I am too lazy to figure out how to make it right).
Was there and went through your experience. now after going full circle I think the frum have it all and more, yes even the sex is better,you write about girls, sex… I have a great sex life that many of my friends would envy,yes I am strictlly frum but that doesnt get in the way of my sex life, just enhances it,and for you girls out there my wife feels the same.
Just to clarify; that bachur I fooled around with DID NOT shave his armpits.
Good luck guys.
Gig — “Please enlighten me of the other reasons. Intellectual? Non-sense. Freedom? To do what? Etc.”
Is that what you came up with after “delving”? That you’ll simply answer your own question, and pre-dismiss any other possibilities as “nonsense”? That doesn’t seem like a very fruitful discussion to have then, so… good luck to you too, my friend.
And btw – I did not assume (nor do I care if) you are frum. I was only pointing out that your response was typical for frum people. If, as you imply, you’re not frum, that’s kinda sad. Frum people at least have an excuse:their ignorance is a result of their sheltered upbringing; they can’t help it much. But what’s your excuse?
EOH — Whoever said frum people don’t have great sex? I’m sure many do. (I certainly did when I was frum.) It’s only the frum people who argue that those who leave are in search of sex! They must be feeling pretty insecure about their own sex lives then.
I was giving suggestions and/or examples. I am sincerely curious to know what reasons there would be for someone to give up such an ancient tradition they were brought up with and taught their entire lives. I feel like some people would kill to have that oppurtunity. I did not mean to offend you in my comment. I wish i could re-write it. This post was trully very heartfelt and touching but i see a false sense of “missing out” and just wanted to explain its falicy. Let me know.
Gig– Fair enough, if you say you ask sincerely I’ll take your word for it.
First re this post: This author, as far as I know, isn’t ex-frum. This was simply about the feeling of missing out and the ill-fated result of such thinking. If he ended up leaving the frum world as a result of this story, it would indeed be very troubling.
As for why people leave, there are many, many reasons. The most common that I have seen is a general feeling of disaffection, from the lifestyle, from the community, from the religious principles, all of it. Some find the restrictions stifling and oppressing, and never felt the joy and “beauty” of Orthodoxy. Others come to it from having troubled life experiences. Others simply stop believing (or they never fully belieived to begin with). Other have spent years thinking, reading, and discussing issues of belief and have, after years of angst about their increasing lack of faith, decided that the answers really aren’t there, and they followed their thinking to its logical conclusion. Often there’s some combination of the above, and the true reasons, as with all human motivations for anything, are complex.
The question of why people leave is a good one, but the very question indicates something. The question implies that a reason is required for leaving but not for staying. Rarely do we hear someone ask, “Why did you stay frum?” That’s because the default is for people to stay put, to seek the safer route, to keep away from uncertainty. But that alone indicates the falsehood inherent within the lifestyle (and within all religions). If people are afraid to leave because of the uncertainly it brings, because people are frightened of the unfamiliar, then the status quo should be automatically suspect.
The question really should be, “What made you take such a bold step when most others are afraid to do so?”
The rhetoric from the frum world shows exactly that fear of the unknown. They rarely say, “Let’s take all the relevant issues and analyze them properly.” Instead, they issue what amount to cowardly dismissals of the OTD path (most with little or substantiation):
* Those who leave were abused, and are now emotionally messed up.
* Those who leave remain miserable forever.
* Those who leave do so for superficial reasons, mostly for sex.
* There are no intellectual reasons for leaving.
* Those who leave were losers to begin with.
* Those who leave are selfish individuals who were unconcerned with the feelings of their loved ones left behind.
* And so on and so forth…
This shows one thing quite clearly: leaving is scary, and it becomes even scarier given the rhetoric. Imagine someone who really wants to leave, but hears all this scary stuff about those wholeave. He ends up staying not because he believes a frum life is necessarily correct, only because he’s been scared shitless about the prospect of leaving that he no longer thinks it’s an option. And that, I think, is the real tragedy.
GigHauser – there is no party line for people who have left orthodoxy , and I myself have not left, but I am definitely searching and struggling. Here are some reasons I can think of for wanting to leave, these are based on my own experiences and many conversations with people who have left orthodoxy or are struggling in orthodoxy.(I am assuming you are coming out of curiosity not out of judgement as you implied in your latest comment).
1. It is not true ( a sort of atheism) : and hence there is no reason to practice it.
2. It cannot be proven (a sort of agnosticism ) : and hence I am not giving up my life , for something which is not absolute.
3. Freedom : the frum lifestyle inhibits freedom , sexually , intellectually ,and a million other ways as I am sure you understand.
4. I want to fit into modern culture : it is very difficult to be orthodox and truly live in the western world.
5: It limits my individuality.
Those are five reasons off the top of my head and I am sure there are more (which will probably be listed by other commentors) , and usually it is more then one ( a combination of reasons).
Notice I did not defend any of them , because you asked for reasons I leave you to make your own judgement whether they are valid , but please think long and hard before you decide , at least as long and hard as the people who went off the derech did. Think long and hard like your relationship with your family depended on it , think long and hard like your marriage depended on it , because this is how many/most people who went off the derech thought about it.
I know this is a really long comment , but I thought it was important to get it out there , and express myself as I really feel.
Heshy, excellent story and told very well!
Gig, why would someone give up on an ancient tradition? Simply because it ain’t true. Now, it just so happens to be that I found out too late in life and missed that golden window when leaving was the preferable option. And get this; it’s now about five years since I let my wife in on my little secret that her Baal Habos wasn’t what she had thought; a fact that I kept hidden for almost ten years. My wife was pained for several years, and now my wife is pissed at me. Why? Because I hadn’t told her sooner! There are people out there for whom truth matters more than how their parents lived. Being forced to live a lie; or worse, being boxed into an unsuitable life where you don’t even get the chance to fulfill your potential (I can’t say that’s true for me, but there ARE plenty of people out there who really have a raw deal), is a terrible waste of a life.
Ok. First of all, thanks everyone for all of your input. Please allow me to share my (simple and perhaps naive) feelings on orthodoxy and religion in general. As you may have culled from my posts, I am not a “frum” guy, but i do have a deep respect for those who were born and raised as such.
I don’t know the statistic but it seems as though pretty much all of humanity believes in some sort of religion or G-d. Even those who don’t are constantly in search for some higher power and/or meaning in their lives.
Most, if not all religions are some sort of deviation from Judaism. Orthodox is latin for “straight religion” (like an ortho-dontist make your teeth straight). They have not deviated from their religion since the beginning of time.
Now if someone is searching for absolute proof of G-d and religion, there isn’t one. There can’t be one. If there was, there would be no free will. Proof of G-d must me semi-shady in order for us to have the ability to choose the right path.
These are all my thoughts on G-d. (Dishwalla)
This is why i feel that the main reason for someone to want “freedom” would be their powerful urge for sex or drugs.
Let me know what you think and/or if you disagree.
Thanks guys.
-Sean
I hope my thoughts were not too preachy, but it seems that most of the reasons mentioned are based on confusion or disillusion. How can a person make such a tremendous life-decision, where you’re eternity can possibly be at stake, by mere confusion or frustration. Just doesn’t add up in my mind. I mean you would agree that there is a 50/50 chance that there is a G-d, so why would you take that chance even from a purely mathematical standpoint. Lemme know.
Gig, it has nothing to do with God. If you REALLY want to know how people can give up on the promise of eternity, read this and then get back to us.
http://www.talkreason.org/articles/letter1.cfm
BTW, why can’t you be accepted into society as a religious Jew? Your insecurities are completely in your own mind. Be proud of who you are and what you represent. (When i was in college in Indiana i met a girl in a bar [hottie], i told her i was Jewish and she got very turned on and she said, and i quote, “I never fuc*ed a rabbi before! Then she did. [I ordained myself that night :_)]
Baal Habos: There’s no way I’m reading all that shit. I’m a lawyer, all i do is read. These comments are the extent of my free time reading. Maybe you can summarize the main points of that site.
GH- I am confused are you frum or not? If so then your previous comments are misleading , but if not being Jewish is not the problem, being a chareidi with payos and a beard is , it IS considered weird and ugly in the non Jewish world. So if you were Jewish but looked like a “goy” then your little anecdote is completely irrelevant.
Velevl: Thank you for clearing that up for me. I was under the impression that there was a problem with the religion. I am not familiar with rules about beards and Payos(es?) . It’s not a law from the Tora, is it? isn’t that just custom? Were there not comments stating that the tradition was untrue? My bad. Good article. Peace out..
What Chasidish are you guys?
Gig- It says clearly in the bible “Do not cut the hair at the sides of your head or clip off the edges of your beard.” What exactly this is referring to is a matter of dispute in the talmud ,and later on in the rishonim, but the truth is that is really irrelevant, the question for many of us is, what is acceptable in our respective communities, and if that is a beard and payos it makes it rather hard to fit into the wider society.
Velvel – could you email me – chaynobody@gmail.com
Chay- I will hopefully email you sometime today , and if not, definitely tomorrow.
Gig, now let me see if I got this right. You can’t undertake to do about ten hours of straighforward fascinating reading about your OWN heritage yet you chastise others who toss a lifestyle that has one of its simplest demands the requirement to spend 10 hours or more weekly in Shul praying to an invisible deity? YOU FU*KING FAKE PHONY FRAUD!
Gig says:
“I mean you would agree that there is a 50/50 chance that there is a G-d”
Guys, never let a lawyer try to teach you statistics or you will end up with stuff like this. (Or well, at least not *this* supposed lawyer.)
Easy guys. I have a simpler faith that doesn’t involve technical difficulties in scripture. I don’t and can’t understand what you guys have been through and are going through. I just wanted to share my thoughts with you isn’t that what this site is about? This article was beautiful written and portrayed deep emotion and confusion, i loved it. I just wanted to clear up the falicy that secular life is absolute gloriousness. It’s not. It’s the same shit, different god. Anyway i wish you guys the best of luck in whatever path you take and i’m sorry if i offended anyone. (I’m 2 years out of law school so i’m still working on my lines of reasoning):-)
Gig, you’re arguing probabilities with complete ignorance. Go to youTube. Look up theremintrees’ “Betting on Infinity (watch?v=fZpJ7yUPwdU). You’ll see Pascal’s Wager is a sucker bet. Then watch some more of his excellent videos and a few of Qualia Soup’s http://www.youtube.com/user/QualiaSoup
Heck, I punched enormous holes in it when I was about five by 1) asking what if someone else’s religion is true and 2) If God knows everything, doesn’t He know you’re trying to fool Him.
GigHauser- I would ask you to consider maybe “we” have thought a lot more then the average person about philosophy , and have thought a lot about theology and hence when someone proposes some simplistic defense of religion (even if the person gets the complexity) “we” get defensive and are taken right back to talking to kiruv rabbis.
Todd: I can’t believe you sent me that joke of a youtube link! It is such classic, age-old questions that every philosopher has dealt with from Maimonides to Crescas and Albo to Abravanel. I love how people hear the question “If G-d can do anything, can he create a rock that he can’t pick up”? Holy shit! There must be no G-d!!
Obviously, this is not the platform for philosophic debates. but get real, think about a bigger picture and not your narrow-minded, egotistic justifications.
Let me pose a question: Do you like the taste of gloodkrizk? What’s your answer? Do you not have tastebuds? You are in no position to answer because you can’t even phathom what it is. Same with our understanding of G-d. We can ask questions that seem to make sense to our understanding, but in reality no one has any idea of what they’re talking about in the first place. This is why there needs to be an element of faith in all religion because we need to understand that there are things we simply won’t understand. Ya douchebag.
Velevel: I apologize if i made you feel that way that was not my intention. It just seems to me that many people on this site are angry and close-minded. I was sent a link to this site by a friend who told me there were insightful and OPEN-MINDED posts here. There are. But when someone gets attacked for stating a simple thought, that’s not realism, it’s hatred. I am well versed in philisophic concepts, and yet i still maintain my simple faith. I don’t think there are concrete answers. I think that there can still be a G-d who created things that way. I’m not missionizing (is that a word) anyone here, just discussing.
Gig — “I’m … just discussing.”
In some comments you are. But the attitude in many of your comments (from the very beginning) has been insulting and judgmental. Reread your comments if you don’t remember. People seem to be reacting to that tone.
You also make very broad generalizations, speaking to a group of individuals and ascribing to them all the same motivations and thought processes. You may not realize it, but Unpious receives several thousand visits a day. A tiny portion of those interact in the comments section. SO when you say “You’re all a bunch of angry bitches,” you might think you’re saying it to three people who are sitting over a single keyboard. In reality, your remarks come across as insulting to every reader and writer of Unpious, whose views and life situations you have no way of knowing, and who, in all likelihood, don’t know each other.
You’ve made a few points that perhaps deserved more thoughtful responses. But if a response you don’t like gets an angry and offensive tirade in return (and this after a series of insulting remarks), you can’t really claim you’re “just discussing.”
Shulem Deen: You speak the truth. I apologize to one and all (except todd, i just don’t like him). In truth, i did think that this site was more of a blog by a smaller group of people. I stand corrected, and again, I’m trully sorry for offending anyone (ibid). I really don’t have an idea of what any of the readers and posters have gone through or are currently going through. I hope my sincere remorse will be accepted. I like the writing here and it’s generally pretty powerful stuff. I hope everyone finds what they’re looking for.
I come from a non-religious background. My great-great grand parents came to America in the early 1800’s from Galicia (wherever the hell that was). My grandmother didn’t cover her hair and was a classic 1930’s socialite. My grandfather was a doctor (One of the first Jews to graduate Columbia med school). I became semi-observant (i do what i can) when i was in my late 20’s. I was searching for something greater than sex, drugs and R&R. I’m still discovering it.
When i initially commented i was merely trying to express the emptiness and lack of fulfillment that exists in the “secular’ world. At least not enough to give up completely on our religion. People want things just because they can’t have them. When they get them, they realize it wasn’t that big of a deal. “The grass is greener…” etc. I was just giving you a heads up from the other side and letting you know that it’s bullshit here. So make sure you are positive about your decisions (if that’s possible).
I have also come to the realization that this is a hasidic site. So here’s my question: Why can’t you just give up hasidism and party hard, and still retain your fundamental faith? G-d knows we are human. He made us that way. Part animal, part soul. He knows our animal instincts need to be fed occasionally. Perhaps some take this route, i’m sure. In truth, I have religious friends who feel awkward when they are in Boro Park. Being Hasidic is not the same as being Jewish.
BTW, beards are all the craze these days for Holywood stars and athletes. (See Brian Wilson et al.)
Gig, I sent it to you because it’s an excellent thumbnail refutation of that stupid piece of sophistry. The theologians have mostly “dealt with” it by ignoring it or doing a variation on Pascal’s Wager. It’s regularly demolished as an exercise in undergraduate philosophy and theology courses.
But of course since it supports your conclusions it must be valid.
THIS STORY IS AMAZING!!!!!!!! so special and deep….please get this writer to publish more it by far surpasses all the other stuff here………made even me get emotional……
Todd: Let’s be friends again. Let’s try to look past our differences and have everything the way it used to be when we were kids. Let’s hug it out.
I’ve begun to feel bad for Mr Blaise Pascal. Standing here 350 years later, his “wager” has been abused by so many individuals, both in support of its use as well as by those who oppose it. Really, it’s just meant as a tool for decision making, not some global answer to all quandaries of religion – and it’s actually intended only to be a first step in a religious direction.
One thing that it is not, was not, and never will be is a proof – and it wasn’t supposed to be. The wager is simply a rational, mathematical, approach to the choice that we’re all faced with: One, we are told there is a creator. Two, we have no proof that a creator exists. Now, with that in mind, you can’t opt out – rather, you must choose either A (a creator exists) or B (does not), and the reason you must chose is that the choice you make is going to be a significant factor in how you live your life. Hence, the “wager” or “gambit.” It’s really kind of stating the obvious – but doing so in a nice and clear way.
Anyone who attempts to use this as proof of anything simply doesn’t get it – in fact, the very premise of the wager is that existence of a creator cannot be proven (or there would be no wager altogether). What it is, and all it is, is a method of focusing the individuals rational mind (and hopefully help him or her see more objectively, rather than emotionally,) towards the options, giving the individual a clearer recognition of the quandary, enabling him or her to choice wisely. Thus, Pascal suggests, based on risk vs. reward of the wager, it behooves the individual to bet on the existence of a creator and live a religious life. I disagree with him, but i don’t want to get side-tracked.
The wager is not supposed to astound me with its brilliance and drive me to keep Shabbos or whatever. It’s merely a statement of what the choice is – no more, no less. In fact, I think that essentially what it comes down to is simply two words: “What if?” So, while I often wondered, “what if this is all bullshit?” Pascal is merely pointing out, “what if it’s not?” And, hey, I can respect that attempt – thank you Mr. Pascal for trying to keep me honest here. Essentially, you’re telling that doubt can keep me religious just as well as it can cause me to defect. Thanks much. Here’s the deal though: I’m an equal opportunity doubter and there are infinite choices. I doubt and double-doubt myself already, so this additional doubt stuff isn’t going to sway me.
What needs to be said is that the Wager only applies if I accept the choices as equal in every other way. However, if I see one choice as a perversion of all that makes sense, then the wager ceased to apply (and it is for this very same reason that a rabbi doesn’t add Christianity or Islam into the equation, and vice-versa, etc, etc). Thus, Pascal is speaking only to a specific individual with a specific quandary: An individual who is unsure of the existence of god. Zehu. But, sheesh, give the guy a break.