Rosh Hashanah

and a secret

Our apple trees that we picked tonight’s apples from

Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year starts tonight.  I just seasoned pork and put it in the insta pot so we can have pulled pork sandwiches with our apples and honey for dinner. It’s odd for a high holiday meal. Especially if you happen to be Jewish. Which I am. Like, not a tiny bit Jewish, but every single one of my ancestors for generations is Ashkenazi Jewish. Soliciting my spit was a waste of time for my Ancestry DNA test. It came back 91% Ashkenazi Jewish from Central and Eastern Europe, 5% Baltic (same thing), and 4% Eastern Europe/Russia (more of the same). I fantasize that my 9%  includes Finnish or Icelandic for a splash of interest, but i'm guessing it’s more likely that it’s Estonia or Latvia. Are other religions apparent in strands of DNA? Religion is a choice, but Jewishness is an ethnicity including language and customs, thought patterns, sinus problems, and a fine tuned skill set including guilt and worry. But it’s not really my religion even though that part overlaps with some of the cultural aspects. It’s complicated. Well, not to me, but to other people who aren’t me.

I grew up going to an orthodox synagogue for the high holidays which was an honor as well as torturous. The services were endless and almost completely in Hebrew which I don’t understand. It wasn’t enough to spend a few hours there on Rosh Hashanah Eve in uncomfortable dressy clothes, but we had to go back the next morning to rinse and repeat before heading to my grandparent’s house to hang out and eat. The rituals were the same year after year, but there were no apples and honey, no telling of the reluctant prophet Jonah, and we didn’t go down as a group to the ocean, a mere few blocks away from my grandparent’s house, to toss in our breadcrumb sins. It was rumored that my grandmother did this on her own and used pebbles instead of breadcrumbs.

There aren’t many Jews where I live and because I attend a Unitarian Universalist Church for my faith community as well as work part time at a different UU church, I am frequently a go to person for all things Jewish. What’s a good Bat Mitzvah gift? How do I feel about the Israeli Palestinian conflict? How do I pronounce a certain word?  I can give it my best shot, but please know I’m probably winging it.  Remember, I’m making pulled pork for the Jewish New Year, need I say more?

But here’s where it gets interesting. I was on the phone with my mother today and she said she was making turkey burgers and potato latkes for dinner. I said I was making pork. She said, “Yeah, your grandfather would have been fine with that. He ate pork.” Excuse me? My orthodox, walk to shul twice a day, don’t mix the Milchig and Fleishig flatware or dishes unless you want to incur my grandmother’s wrath of having to boil the forks after 24 hours or some other sacred weirdness. This man who I thought I knew, ate of a cloven foot, non ruminant animal forbidden in Leviticus?! Impossible. 

“Not really.” said my mother nonchalantly, “ He said that in the old country people ate whatever they could get their hands on. If there was only pork to be had, they ate it. No big deal. It was only when his family came to the United States and could eventually afford to eat kosher that they did. He thought Jews here could be pretty hypocritical about it.”

I mean, just, wow. mind. blown. It makes me wonder about the socioeconomics of keeping kosher across the globe. Was it a status thing? Were financially secure people considered better Jews and more blessed because they had access to kosher food? I’d say it looks like there’s a lot to ‘unpack here, but I really hate the word ‘unpack’ so I’ll just say it’s super interesting. And not that I felt guilt in any way about eating pork tonight (it smells delicious by the way), but I now feel like I’m honoring my ancestors with pride. 

You might see some variation of the words, “Shana tovah u'metukah” in your social media feeds tonight or for the next few days. It’s Hebrew for “Have a sweet new year.” My family spoke Yiddish at home, not Hebrew, so I only learned this as an adult. 

Whoever you are, whatever your faith or beliefs or lack thereof, I wish you sweetness and gentle grace wherever you are on your journey. We could all use a little of that these days.

In apples, honey, whales, and the book of life, Lorryn

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