An article appeared in the New York Times entitled: “Jewish in a Winter Wonderland.” The author describes how she and her husband, both Jews, decided to buy and decorate a Christmas tree this year. At first she blames the Pottery Barn catalog, for having such attractive decorations, then moves on to describe her Christmas Tree as subversive and rebellious.
Finally she makes the point that she and her husband want to celebrate Christmas not out of a secret desire to convert to Christianity, but because “the rampant commercialization of Christmas works! Like your kids who desperately want the toys they see advertised on TV, I wanted the monogrammed velvet stocking and my husband wanted the model train that goes around the tree and puffs the actual smoke.”
At the core, this author’s argument is that Christmas is about presents and pretty decorations, and for Jews to celebrate these twin values of beauty and materialism is not a problem. For her, Christmas is devoid of all Christian and religious meaning. However, the author does say that when she has kids, she and her husband would put away the tree.
All holidays, Jewish, Christian and even secular American holidays, have meaning behind them. On Hanukkah we eat latkes and light the menorah. These are wonderful traditions that are meant to remind us of the meaning of the day, that the Jews of 2000 years ago regained their religious freedom and forced the Greeks out of the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. When we talk about the miracle of the oil that lasted for 8 days and sing songs about God and Jewish freedom, we acknowledge the true meaning of Hanukkah.
The same holds true of every holiday, even the secular American ones. We all know that July 4th is about American independence, even if we spend all day by the pool, eating barbecue, and watching fireworks. The meaning of a holiday remains visible to those who celebrate it, no matter how secular the symbols appear. To put up a Christmas tree is not just about beauty and materialism. The small fir is meant to remind its owner of the true meaning of Christmas, the day that Jesus was born. That is why the most common decoration for the top of the Christmas tree is an angel or star, which symbolizes the star of Bethlehem or angelic hosts which proclaimed the birth of Jesus.
I think Christmas is a wonderful holiday. It is just not a Jewish holiday. Nor is it a secular one. It is a holy day for Christians. Our goal should not be to decapitate holidays from their true meaning. Rather, we should celebrate them for what they are, days that have their own history, culture and religious importance.
To read New York Times article: “Jewish in a Winter Wonderland": Click Here
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Fly Fishing, The Off Season & Shabbat
It’s December, and fly fishing feels like a distant memory. For me, the fly fishing season runs from April through September, although rarely do I fish much into September. That is when another season begins, the time of the High Holidays. When Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur arrive, I am too busy thinking about sermons, prayer and penitence to make it to the cold water streams. And by the time all four of the Fall Jewish Holidays end (including Sukkot and Simchat Torah), it is already October. In my life, the fly fishing season gives way to the High Holiday season, and after that, winter has already arrived.
For some people, there is no time off from fly fishing. I often read about those who pile on layer upon layer of wool and fleece and neoprene, and then wade into 35 degree water in February. A good friend of mine, Jon O., likes to go ice-fishing in Michigan. That’s where you sit in a small hut on an ice-covered lake, drill a hole, drop in your line and freeze all day, hoping for a bite. He loves it. Sounds cold to me.
I actually think it is good to have an off-season for fly fishing. A time to re-charge and prepare for the spring. Judaism affirms that all of life, including fly fishing, needs an off-season. Each week, we Jews celebrate Shabbat, a day dedicated to rest and refreshment. The Torah says that God created the world in six days and rested on the seventh, celebrating the first Shabbat. And we imitate God one day each week by praying, being with family, taking a break and recharging our batteries. If winter is the off season for fly fishing, Shabbat is the off season for our souls.
I once heard a quote that Shabbat is like the pause between notes in a great piece of music. If music happened without end, without a rest, it would be overwhelming. Great artistry can be found as much in the choice of notes as the space offered between them and the anticipation of the music to come.
In my opinion, Shabbat and the fly fishing off-season mean to teach us some of the same values. They give us a time to rest, recharge and prepare for the next adventure. And they cultivate within us a sense of anticipation and excitement for our next undertaking. There are few things more exciting than the beginning of April, when you enter the cold water streams for the first time in months. There is one final lesson that Shabbat, and the off-season teach us: appreciation. When the fly fishing season returns after a long hiatus, we realize that fishing for trout, and all the good things in our lives, are precious gifts from a source much greater than ourselves.
For some people, there is no time off from fly fishing. I often read about those who pile on layer upon layer of wool and fleece and neoprene, and then wade into 35 degree water in February. A good friend of mine, Jon O., likes to go ice-fishing in Michigan. That’s where you sit in a small hut on an ice-covered lake, drill a hole, drop in your line and freeze all day, hoping for a bite. He loves it. Sounds cold to me.
I actually think it is good to have an off-season for fly fishing. A time to re-charge and prepare for the spring. Judaism affirms that all of life, including fly fishing, needs an off-season. Each week, we Jews celebrate Shabbat, a day dedicated to rest and refreshment. The Torah says that God created the world in six days and rested on the seventh, celebrating the first Shabbat. And we imitate God one day each week by praying, being with family, taking a break and recharging our batteries. If winter is the off season for fly fishing, Shabbat is the off season for our souls.
I once heard a quote that Shabbat is like the pause between notes in a great piece of music. If music happened without end, without a rest, it would be overwhelming. Great artistry can be found as much in the choice of notes as the space offered between them and the anticipation of the music to come.
In my opinion, Shabbat and the fly fishing off-season mean to teach us some of the same values. They give us a time to rest, recharge and prepare for the next adventure. And they cultivate within us a sense of anticipation and excitement for our next undertaking. There are few things more exciting than the beginning of April, when you enter the cold water streams for the first time in months. There is one final lesson that Shabbat, and the off-season teach us: appreciation. When the fly fishing season returns after a long hiatus, we realize that fishing for trout, and all the good things in our lives, are precious gifts from a source much greater than ourselves.
Monday, December 4, 2006
Bone Fish Sam
Bone Fish Sam picked me up at 7am in the lobby of the Westin Hotel on Grand Bahama Island. It was a few weeks ago, and my wife and I were in the Bahamas for vacation. I saw that the hotel offered a guided fly fishing excursion with Bone Fish Sam. I signed up, paid the $250 guiding fee (nobody ever said fly fishing was cheap!) and was told to be in the lobby early the next day. This was going to be my first bone fish expedition.
After we left the hotel, Bone Fish Sam and I stopped at his house to pick up the gear, a few large sinking flies and a fly rod that he loaned to me, and headed to the beach. As we drove, he t
old me that the bone fish gets its name from the large number of bones in its body, making it not very good for eating. But it is a well-known sport fish.
Picture: Bone Fish Sam with the fish we (he) caught.
Sam said that the reason why the bone fish is so popular is because it is so difficult to catch. That got me thinking. When I spend hours on the stream without a bite, I sometimes wonder why I am chasing these picky trout with an impossibly small hook wrapped in thread and feathers. Why not do something easier with my time? But it is the challenge that I love. If the trout rose to every fly, I would get bored. I would rather be challenged and frustrated than succeed too easily. Perhaps fly fishermen are gluttons for punishment.
Soon we were on a road running parallel to the beach, maybe 150 feet from the water. All of a sudden, Sam says: “There are the Bones!” I said to him: “You can see them from here?” “Yep,” was his reply. I have good eye-sight, but from 150 feet I could not see any fish, only beautiful blue waves. We drove a little further: “More Bones,” he said. Now I was beginning to feel a bit dumb, but I thought to myself: “We are still on the road, maybe when we get down to the beach, I’ll be able to see them.”
No such luck. Sam keeps seeing schools of bone fish, 60 or 80 feet away, and I can’t see a single one. He tells me: “Cast, 1 o’clock, quick,” using the fail-safe clock method to guide me. I take one cast to lengthen the line, and send the fly out there. But it’s too late. “Not fast enough,” he says. After about 15 minutes of this, I realize why bone fishing is so hard. I can’t even see the fish, much less get my fly out there fast enough! Bone Fish Sam is very kind to me and is extremely patient. But I am clearly out of my league. Finally, Sam takes the fly rod, casts to the bones, and in what felt like two seconds, hooks a nice one. He lets me reel it in. And even though I did not catch it, it sure feels good to hold that 3 pound fish and releas
e it back into its ocean home.
Picture: The Fly Fishing Rabbi holds the bone fish.
After a few hours on the beach, Sam took me back to the hotel. I was exhausted, humbled but also strangely content. And so what did I learn from my first bone fishing excursion? I remembered what it was like to be a student, and to feel humbled before a wise teacher and a hard task. As a Rabbi, I often fill the role of teacher, preacher and spiritual leader. I am usually the one who offers guidance and tries to help others. But on the Bahamian beach, I was the lost student who could not even see the fish, much less catch it. I am grateful to Bone Fish Sam for the reminder that in life, we are all students sometimes, and that a good dose of humility never hurt!
After we left the hotel, Bone Fish Sam and I stopped at his house to pick up the gear, a few large sinking flies and a fly rod that he loaned to me, and headed to the beach. As we drove, he t
old me that the bone fish gets its name from the large number of bones in its body, making it not very good for eating. But it is a well-known sport fish.Picture: Bone Fish Sam with the fish we (he) caught.
Sam said that the reason why the bone fish is so popular is because it is so difficult to catch. That got me thinking. When I spend hours on the stream without a bite, I sometimes wonder why I am chasing these picky trout with an impossibly small hook wrapped in thread and feathers. Why not do something easier with my time? But it is the challenge that I love. If the trout rose to every fly, I would get bored. I would rather be challenged and frustrated than succeed too easily. Perhaps fly fishermen are gluttons for punishment.
Soon we were on a road running parallel to the beach, maybe 150 feet from the water. All of a sudden, Sam says: “There are the Bones!” I said to him: “You can see them from here?” “Yep,” was his reply. I have good eye-sight, but from 150 feet I could not see any fish, only beautiful blue waves. We drove a little further: “More Bones,” he said. Now I was beginning to feel a bit dumb, but I thought to myself: “We are still on the road, maybe when we get down to the beach, I’ll be able to see them.”
No such luck. Sam keeps seeing schools of bone fish, 60 or 80 feet away, and I can’t see a single one. He tells me: “Cast, 1 o’clock, quick,” using the fail-safe clock method to guide me. I take one cast to lengthen the line, and send the fly out there. But it’s too late. “Not fast enough,” he says. After about 15 minutes of this, I realize why bone fishing is so hard. I can’t even see the fish, much less get my fly out there fast enough! Bone Fish Sam is very kind to me and is extremely patient. But I am clearly out of my league. Finally, Sam takes the fly rod, casts to the bones, and in what felt like two seconds, hooks a nice one. He lets me reel it in. And even though I did not catch it, it sure feels good to hold that 3 pound fish and releas
e it back into its ocean home.Picture: The Fly Fishing Rabbi holds the bone fish.
After a few hours on the beach, Sam took me back to the hotel. I was exhausted, humbled but also strangely content. And so what did I learn from my first bone fishing excursion? I remembered what it was like to be a student, and to feel humbled before a wise teacher and a hard task. As a Rabbi, I often fill the role of teacher, preacher and spiritual leader. I am usually the one who offers guidance and tries to help others. But on the Bahamian beach, I was the lost student who could not even see the fish, much less catch it. I am grateful to Bone Fish Sam for the reminder that in life, we are all students sometimes, and that a good dose of humility never hurt!
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