Soul food

I find my solace, my connection to God in food, not prayer.

By ILANA EPSTEIN
yummy food 298.88 (photo credit: courtesy)
yummy food 298.88
(photo credit: courtesy)
If my membership hasn't already been revoked, this one will definitely get me kicked out of the sisterhood. The hours of High Holy Day prayer that are so hard on my feet are also hard on my soul. Every year (sorry, that was a lie: as often as the kids make it possible for me), I go to shul and join in with the hazan. If it's my husband leading the congregation, my heart soars. Not only is his voice beautiful, it is most likely that this is the most I have heard him speak in months; we lead busy lives, you understand. If it is a different hazan, one who hasn't been gifted with the voice of a baritone angel, then I drift. On closer inspection, you will find me flipping ahead in the mahzor, counting how many pages there are to go. At other times, I'll be stepping in and out of my shoes. These, though, are not the times that worry me. I worry about starting to read the English translation - it is dangerous to give a repressed philosopher any reading material. I read about the magnificence, the majesty, the omnipotence of God, with which I totally agree. What I don't read or see reflected during the Rosh Hashana prayers is the "good" me. I don't hear about my efforts or my hard work. Where do I fit in? This isn't part of the "finding myself" revolution that has people looking in Tibet for their lost chi. This comes from the knowledge that the best way to hold an audience and keep them coming back for more is to talk to them about themselves. Though prayer has existed since forever, tefilla was formalized after the destruction of the Second Temple by the Men of the Great Assembly. No longer would we be able to visit the house of the Lord; no longer would we be able to communicate with Him through offerings and sacrifices. Some of the sacrifices our forebears offered were for their sins to be forgiven; others were to praise God and his magnificence; yet others were in gratitude. A good harvest, a healthy child, a happy marriage, the mundane stuff that I as a woman feel grateful for every day, represented other sacrifices. Where the liturgy has perhaps failed to reflect me, tradition has smoothly picked up the baton, and given expression to my thoughts. At times I resent the hours of prayer, but my husband loves them. He connects with the music and through the music to the words, and through the words to God. I find the connection tenuous and have found that the other customs in the Rosh Hashana arsenal better help me reflect on the magnificence that is God, and at the same time to be grateful for what I have and content with what I have accomplished. We celebrate God, and each of us needs to find a way to connect with God, a way to respond to Him. The men who lost their sacrifices found that the liturgy helped them, and there were those who put the words to music who found that the tunes helped them. And then there are those for whom the shofar blast is evocative of God and they have found the connection that way. For me, the connection is in my gratitude. I am grateful to God for all the blessings in my life. My world is blessed and I believe that is thanks to God. How do I thank Him? My feet can't handle the praying and my soul can't handle being factored out. I find my solace, my connection to God in food, not prayer. And thankfully, for once, I'm not alone. We all use apples and honey to wish ourselves a good, sweet new year. And yet, thankfully, my forebears knew that that would simply not be enough for me. In most Sephardi communities, as well as among Ashkenazim of Jerusalemite descent, the simanei milta (symbolic foods) play a large role in the Rosh Hashana festivities. And I am fortunate that my family had the good sense to keep the tradition alive. We eat foods which, because of their name, shape, flavor or quantity are evocative of our hopes, dreams and aspirations. We recite blessings that demand that these foods act as a positive omen in our wishes for the year to come. My wish for this coming Rosh Hashana is that we each find our own way to connect with God. The connection reminds us that we are His children and that, like a father, it isn't about punishment. God's love is all encompassing. As we approach a very uncertain future, it is our connection with this Higher Being that keeps us grounded. So do it with prayer, do it with music, do it with food, or as Nike says, just do it. Connect.