KISSING JUDAISM
Judaism has become a “kissing religion.” What do
I mean? We have somehow come to think that Judaism requires the kissing of certain
objects. We kiss the Torah, we kiss the Tzitzit on the Talit, we kiss the Mezuzah
on leaving and entering the house.
Now I would not want to disparage what some might consider
an act of piety. But the truth is that no where in Judaism is there a command
to kiss anything. Indeed, there are some very specific commands when it comes
to Torah, Tzitzit and Mezuzah. We are commanded to study Torah, to wear Tzitzit
as a reminder to keep God’s commandments, and to affix a Mezuzah to the
doorposts of our homes, again as a reminder to live by God’s commandments.
So how did all this “kissing business” get started?
It probably started with the Hasidim as an act of reverence and gradually spread
to all segments of the Jewish world. And, as you would expect, it was initially
opposed by most rabbinic authorities. But as often happens, the masses took
to it and by now it has become an accepted practice.
So why am I getting so worked about it? After all, if it makes
people feel good to do a little “religious kissing,” what can the
harm be?
Here is where I see the problem. We have focused in on a peripheral,
unnecessary act and forgotten the essential: which is to study Torah and live
by the commandments. As I view the contemporary Jewish religious scene, there
is far too much emphasis on peripherals and not nearly enough on essentials.
We have distorted the essence of Judaism by confusing what is substance and
what is window dressing.
Let me give you an example. Havdalah is a very beautiful and
meaningful ritual that marks the termination of Shabbat and the beginning of
the new week. For some reason in the last 30 years or so, as the observance
of Shabbat has declined, the popularity of Havdalah has risen. Now Havdalah
is important. But the observance of Shabbat is more important. Havdalah without
the observance of Shabbat is like having a going away party for a departing
guest, except that the guest never arrived and was never present.
One summer I got a call from a father who wanted to arrange
for the Bar Mitzvah of his son. Had the boy had any Jewish education? I asked.
No, no Jewish education, couldn’t read Hebrew, had never been inside a
synagogue. So why, I asked, bother with a Bar Mitzvah? The father explained
because it was a “mitzvah” to have a Bar Mitzvah and he wanted his
son to have it. He was shocked (and angry) when I told him that there was no
such “mitzvah” and that Abraham, Moses, David, Hillel, Akiba and
Maimonides never had a Bar Mitzvah. At best the “custom” was only
600 years old. And besides, the whole idea behind Bar Mitzvah was the educational
preparation. I quoted the Mishna (Avot 5:24) which states that at the age of
5 a child should begin the study of Torah, at the age of 10 the study of Mishna
(the first code of Jewish Law complied by Rabbi Judah the Prince in 200 C.E.)
and then at 13 becomes responsible for observing the commandments. Now, I asked
him, could an 18 year old who had never been to school call up a high school
and say “I would like to graduate with your senior class this year and
march in the commencement exercises and receive a diploma?” Of course
not. We all understand that the diploma only recognizes the academic achievement,
and the commencement ceremony is just that — a ceremony, a peripheral.
The essence is the study.
So when it comes to Torah, Tzitzit and Mezuzah, let’s
remember that the essence is not the kissing. By all means kiss if you want.
But don’t forget that the mitzvah is to study Torah. The mitzvah is to
observe the commandments. The essence is to make a big deal about observing
Shabbat and not just to focus on its departure.
Can we have both? Of course we can. But if we are choosing,
let’s not choose the peripheral. Go for the substance. It will bring far
more meaning and spiritual sustenance to your life. I guarantee it.