investment

With my understanding of religious life as a practice (April 4, '08), and traditional ritual as an inheritance of successful ceremonies ("Ritual", September 21, '08; "Tradition", December 14, '07), what do we do with unattractive practices? In a system of "legislated spiritual disciplines," as Jacob Agus knew them, what do we do with the disciplines that no longer seem to serve us well? Aside from rules that are actually repellent or appear immoral, should we even keep practices that don't seem to bring us closer to holiness regularly?

I think we should. On balance, I believe that it's important to hold on to traditions. We should be conservative about changing tradition, not to think of ourselves as so wise or mighty as to stack the court. Religious life is there to teach us something; at the very least, tradition can give us a great counterpoint to the change all about us. We have to be humble enough to listen to it on its own terms. Frankly, religion has its own logic, coherence and consistency, and we're taking a great risk if we tamper with it.

It brings to mind my love of soccer. As an American, I started playing too late in life to develop natural skill. I play defender, and I'm not particularly good. I'd like to think that I make up for some of my weaknesses with my enthusiasm and hard work . . .

In soccer, there's an "off-sides" rule that prevents offensive players from cherry-picking passes to shoot on goal. Technically, this gives an advantage to the defense, I suppose. For me, it makes the game needlessly complicated. Sometimes, if we're not playing with a full team, we'll practice without the rule. But no one tries to get rid of the "off-sides" rule. You may not like it, but if you love soccer, and you want to become a better soccer player, you put up with it. You have an investment in the game, so you accept the short-comings, and by playing within the rules you can become a healthier, stronger person.

Religious life is that way, too. Rabbi Elliot Dorff talks about the metaphor of a book club. You're in a book club, and the book of the month is really boring. (Once, I actually picked an awful book in my club.) Usually, You read it anyway because you want to be a part of the book club community, and you hope that future books will be more enlightening. Also, you know that if you show up unprepared too often, pretty soon you won't be asked back.

And that's why we put up with the less than desirable elements of religious life in community. We want to grow in the religion. We want to grow as people, we want to share in a communal life, and we hope that the future will be better.