In The Beginning...
In the post titled How Did I Become Frum, I described the rather lengthy process of events that lead to my adopting my religion. In this post I'll go into some detail about events that occurred after already deciding that Judaism was appropriate for me. These are also not in any particular order because I cannot remember them in terms perfect chronology.I remember once standing in shul davening, and I began thinking about my experience with Reform Judaism. I had taught at a Reform synagogue for a while before becoming frum and remember that I longed for, and enjoyed, the prayer service. I remember thinking that it was distinctly strange that the Reform movement seemed to emphasize a more individualistic and progressive ethos than Orthodox Judaism, yet it was ironically Orthodoxy that contained institutionalized moments of personal, private prayer. To contrast, at the Reform synagogue, we all prayed out loud in unison, following the Rabbi's lead. It really was possible that the more ancient, traditional manifestation of Judaism was more sensitive to the human psyche than its updated, current expression. That might have been my first brush with the idea that the ancient world contained elements of truth that had been blurred or lost from the modern one. I also found it strange, although while still at the Reform synagogue, that the Rabbi experienced difficulty reading the Torah, stammering and getting stuck on pronunciation.
The Shabbos Incident
Then I had the Shabbos experience. My roommates were out of town and I had the apartment to myself. I had decided in advance that I would have a little foray - I borrowed a siddur from the Orthodox shul down the street, and tucked my kippah and my bar mitzvah tallis away in a drawer. When sundown fell Friday night, I prepared for myself (what in retrospect I realize might have been unkosher) frozen pizza. I might have even cooked it in the microwave. Nevertheless, I ate my pizza and sat on the couch to read a book. Because Shabbos was a day a rest, as I learned, I would simply read and rest all day with no TV or radio or Internet.It wasn't so easy and a few hours in I found myself struggling, and went to sleep. In the morning I woke up ready for the moment of truth. I put my kippah on my head and wrapped myself in my tiny tallis, which barely extended down past my chest. I opened up the brown ArtScroll siddur I borrowed from shul to page 1 and began reading the Hebrew. Little did I know then that I was reading the weekday Shacharis portions. I also wasn't aware that certain parts can be skipped based on the day, so I read the entire 182 pages standing up in the living room of our apartment, and my feet were killing me. I even read all of the supplementary pages, which I believe went up to page 182j (a-j). It was painful and it was miserable, 1 Day.
After about what seemed like two hours of this, I sat down to read more of my book, carefully highlighting parts of it and writing notes in the margins. I remember praying to God that if this was Shabbos, I could not withstand it. No call from the Heavens, so I continued to read - I reasoned in silent desperation that God does not abandon those who do His Will.
After Shabbos there was a knock on the door. It was one of the observant Jewish girls in my community and circle of friends. She asked me plainly if I would like to keep Shabbos with them from now on! I was shocked and said "yes!" Sometimes God lets you go on for a while before sending your salvation just to see if you're serious or not. I am sure that He got great nachas from seeing my perseverance through what was a somewhat difficult experience. The answer? If you push through when tough, God will make it easier for you.
It was starting with the following Shabbos that I learned what it really all was about. We would prepare for Shabbos by shopping at Trader Joe's. We would make challah and chicken and all kinds of stuff. We would say Kiddush and Motzi and eat, talk, and sing. We would play Dominoes later and it was so peaceful without television that it demanded actually giving attention to each other. It's amazing, and awkward at first, how intimate it feels to speak to people without a televised distraction constantly in the background. Those people became my very good friends.
The Kippah Incident
One Shabbos, somebody at the house had mentioned that there was no beer left. Not having taking Shabbos on fully yet, in my Israeli stubbornness, to which I stubbornly clung, I exclaimed that I would volunteer to purchase it! When my friends said, "No, no, it's okay," I didn't realize until many years later that getting into the car and purchasing anything would be a violation of Shabbos. I was also not ready to stop the scribblings of cartoons and poetry that I jotted down during Shabbos when I was inspired and shoved underneath the couch. I got in my car and went to the store.When I get to that drug store, I noticed that it was relatively empty on the peaceful Shabbos night. I had planned something, and I pulled the kippah out of my pocket and put in my head. I instantly felt as if everybody in the store was looking at me, although it was sparsely populated. My blood pressure rose and my breathing quickened and I promptly shoved it back into my pocket. "No, Yaniv, no! You have to wear your kippah in public. You have to not be embarrassed or anxious to have others know that you are a Jew at first glance! Put it back on!" I reached in my pocket and put my kippah back on my head and proceeded to purchase beer. I realize now that nobody probably drank it until Shabbos ended. I felt as if the non-existent masses were all staring at me, and I caught the cashier's eyes affix upon my kippah for a moment. I grinned at him from the corner of my mouth and slightly nodded my head. "That's right, I'm wearing a kippah." I left the store, started the car, and returned to the house.
My goal was to start wearing my kippah at work and then at the university. I was working at a local salad bar at the time and began wearing my kippah in public. The most common comment from my co-workers was whether it was a Jewish holiday. It was also at that time that I began dabbling in shomer negiah, which I found difficult.
After successfully completing that objective, I was ready to wear it at the University, the original battle ground, the place where the Jew-haters lived, both student and professor. If I could do it there, I could do it anywhere. The end of my self-consciousness had to come to an end. The fear of my enemies, tormentors, and persecutors had to be pushed aside. I was a Jew and there was no stopping it. I reasoned, "If blacks can walk around and not hide their identity, why should I be able to? I want to wear my identity visibly to everybody. A Star of David? I can push it back into my shirt, but I cannot remove my kippah ."