Finding Your Way Home

By Brielle Goodman
KOACH-On-Campus Editor

In a year and a half or so of being KOACH-On-Campus’ editor, this is the first time I am going to write off topic. This last month I experienced something so moving, and so life-altering for me, that I feel I must share it with all of you. I hope you’ll forgive me for breaking away from my theme.

I grew up in San Diego, CA, with, what seemed to me, a normal Jewish community. I went to Hebrew School, I was a madrikhah (group leader) after I finished Hebrew School and I was very active in USY. Through being a madrikhah and through USY, I came to think of my synagogue as a second home. Everyone was really warm and willing to do anything to help anyone. They were my family away from home.

Then came college. I went in with expectations that the Jewish community at college would be just as warm and friendly as the community I grew up in. BIG MISTAKE! In three years, I had three frightening encounters from not only fellow Jews, but people I had previously thought to be my friends. I stopped being social with almost anyone, because anywhere I went, people were truly malevolent. I stopped going to services for the same reason. The Jewish community took all of my enjoyment out of being Jewish. It was just too unpleasant to be involved in that community. I completely isolated myself. The only Jewish involvement I had in my life for the last 2.5 years was the KOACH Ezine: You’re reading it. My parents decided they wanted me out of there, after the third time. So they recalled me to Montana (where they now live) for a few months. I wasn’t much happier there. I didn’t know anyone there. It was pretty lonely.

Finally, I decided I would go to San Diego for at least 2 weeks, a place where I had friends and life made more sense. I used the last remaining frequent flyer miles I had and went to California. And this is the reason I’m writing the article.

While I was there, I went to Friday night services. In the middle of the second niggun (melody), tears of joy started streaming down my face. For so long, I had been so removed from Judaism and what it is all about. I was at a service where the only person I knew was the rabbi standing on the bimah and already I could feel the warmth of that community. The beauty of the prayers, the spirituality of the service, the love that filled that sanctuary, these were what I had been missing for so long. The lull of the niggunim, the joy that soars in the psalms, the fulfillment that comes from connecting with God. The tears continued through a few more prayers and by the middle of the service, I was dancing the horah around the sanctuary with other congregants. I made myself a promise that very night that I would move back to San Diego and become active in the congregation again, because that is a large part of who I am.

Okay, so you’re thinking, "what’s so moving and life-altering about a Friday night service?" But let me tell you, after not having been to a service on a regular basis, for more than three years, having a community to be a part of is not something to be taken for granted. I think about how our country is changing and how more and more of our liberties are being restricted or revoked and I want to bring to your attention how important it is not to lose sight of the value of the little things in life are. It is those very things which we take for granted on a day to day basis that we cannot allow to slip out of our grasp. Many of our grandparents didn’t have the freedom to celebrate Shabbat each week openly. I wish I had had someone to knock me over the head, and say, "don’t you realize how much you’re missing in your life, since you’ve let so much slip away from you?!" I have always known that Judaism was very important to me, but somehow, I managed to justify letting it slip out of that prominent place in my life. Well, now I’m am making it a priority to put it back in that prominent place. Life is so much more enjoyable now.

It is now about a month after that fateful Friday Night Service and I am living in San Diego, looking desperately for a full time job, working part time at the synagogue with the children, going to services and living my Judaism each and every day. Judaism is about love and about being a community and about "loving thy neighbor". Judaism is not at all about hurting anyone, least of all other Jews. So I have this to say to you all who are reading this: Don’t ever lose your love of Judaism. You’re reading this for a reason: Judaism matters to you, on some level. Don’t ever let that get away from you. I lost it for a few years and that is one regret I will never be able to make disappear. Learn from my mistake and embrace the joy that Judaism brings you, whatever aspect of Judaism it is that fulfills you and don’t ever let go!

[Posted 2/7/05]