The Far North Eruv

“You might find you feel more comfortable in the Far North Eruv”, he said.  

I was in town for an interview which happened to coincide with Shabbos/Purim. I was having a lovely time with my dear friend and hostess “electrictrixie” (not her real name) and we were at the house of her chavrusa who was deemed “not controversial” enough to educate her on her path towards conversion. They were a lovely family; husband, wife and beautiful, smiling, tiny, baby daughter. We were enjoying a fine meal, and had successfully weathered his attempt to compare inviting a non-Jew to a Shabbos meal to inviting “dancers” (euphemism) from the street to your house.  We pointed out the fallacy of this comparison, quiet calmly I might add, when the conversation turned to my purpose in visiting: Namely, to check out the community in case I might want to move there.

“You might feel more comfortable in the Far North Eruv”, he said matter of factly; Which left me curious. Why? Was this a veiled insult (as in, we want you as far away from us as possible)? A reflection of my personality? (Those people in the North Eruv are all a little weird JUST LIKE YOU.) I mean, here I was on my VERY best  “frummy” behavior wearing my best dark-colored Jewniform and a lovely coordinating head scarf. OK, so maybe I was a little vocal at the meal pointing out that his personal stance on conversion was directly contradicted by halachia. But still, I was perplexed. What about me led to that comment, and what was true about the “Far North Eruv” that led him to believe I belonged there?

Anyway.

After Shabbos came Purim, and after our morning hearing of the Megilla “trixie” took me off to the Far North Eruv to visit two of her favorite people.  We drove up to a non-descript, but lovely, home and rang the bell. I was momentarily shocked to find the door answered by two bikers, complete with do-rags, cut offs, modified muscle shirts, and tattoos. 

And I thought, oh yeah, the north eruv is My Kinda Place!

Oh. Purim. 

So, no, they weren’t really bikers, and the tattoos turned out to be those kinda fake arm-sleeves with printing on them, but they were lovely, creative, interesting, open-minded people. However, I was a little sad to discover that, in their opinion, their neighborhood was not particularly…. well… whatever  I had begun to think MIGHT be true of the Far North Eruv (FNE).

*sigh*

My hopes were dashed. Yet, the idea of this mythical place where I MIGHT fit in made me start to imagine all that I wish was true about the Far North Eruv (FNE) .

So, here goes:

In the FNE, no one judges your “religiousness”  based on what you wear. No one assumes your rastifarian beret says anything about your political leanings or implies that because you don’t  wear opaque black stockings, no one can trust the kashrut of your home. Men wear an astonishing variety of kippot including croched, velvet, black, purple, green and even occasionally indulge in a baseball cap. Women wear hoodies, or purple, or scarves, or hats, or sneakers. And everyone prays together, with the requisite mechitzah of course.

In the FNE, people strive to find the balance between rabbinical input, and intelligent discernment.  For example, they feel fully capable of deciding that they can plunge (or not plunge) their clogged toilet on Shabbos.  And no one feels pressure to take on every chumra in an attempt to “out Jew” one another. We accept that everyone is on their own path to Hashem, and we don’t have the right to judge someone else’s faith journey based on our criteria of observance.

In the FNE, no one considers the idea that women might want to learn Talmud as “strange”. Of course, women who don’t want don’t feel any pressure. But, as for the rest of us, we are never told that we are “too emotional”, and we always have a variety of vibrant study groups to join that are on the same intellectual level as what is available to the men.

In the FNE, our shuls are designed in a way that engages both women and men in the beauty of Torah. No one tries to tell us that we are up in the balcony because we are “at an elevated spiritual level” and the men assume that women MIGHT want to touch the Torah. Women dance together on Simchat Torah, and don’t have to fight for the right to have a Torah of their own. The “all female” megilla reading is normal, and the women boo Haman with as much vigor as the men.

In the FNE, everywhere you look you see Jews that look like a true reflection of our international community of Jews. There are Jews of every color, shape, ethnicity, and the shul is a place where no one walks in and has to hear “Funny, you don’t look Jewish” or has to endure stares because they don’t meet the Askenaz “norm” of what “Jewish” looks like. And, no one asks if you are a convert. 

In the FNE, people are supportive of families and their choices, and singles, single parent homes, single child homes, and even no-child homes are accepted without remark, and everyone is allowed their place in the community without prejudice and judgment.

In the FNE, Judiasm is seen as a vibrant faith, where questioning is permitted; Where we strike the right balance between keeping the traditions of our ancestors, and reflecting the challenges of our future. Where halachia is taken seriously, but where people are encouraged to learn, to think, to challenge, to argue, and to fail without fear of judgment or retaliation. Because, after all, faith is a journey, and no one will know for sure if we are “right” until we stand before Hashem. 

Do you belong in the Far North Eruv? I know I do.