On the morning of February 4th I boarded a train from Poughkeepsie on my way into NYC for both business and personal meetings.
l felt the entire day was going to be special. I decided to take my Kippah with me. That's not uncommon for me to do.
Like most Jews raised in a Reform temple, I put on a yarmulke during Holy days services, Festivals and Shabbat in Synagogue. We step out, it comes off.
I also like to put on my kippah when I am in strange places, like a foreign city or when the occasion moves me. When I feel like having God and Judaism on my mind I put my kippah on my head.
I also like to put on my kippah when I am in strange places, like a foreign city or when the occasion moves me. When I feel like having God and Judaism on my mind I put my kippah on my head.
I'll digress for anyone who is unfamiliar with a kippah. It is Hebrew word that literally means skullcap, also referred to in Yiddish as a yarmulke.
The Jewish tradition of wearing a kippah is not derived from any particular biblical commandment. Rather, covering one's head began as sign of respect and reverence for God. A simple article of clothing, it is also a recognition that there is Someone “above” us who watches our every act.
There is central Jewish prayer called the V'Ahavta. It is the prayer inside teffiln which some Jews wrap on their forehead, arm and hand. It is inside a mezzuzah on the doorposts and gates to Jewish homes and offices. In the V'Ahavta we pray to "Be mindful" of the Torah as a means of consecrating ourselves to God.
There is central Jewish prayer called the V'Ahavta. It is the prayer inside teffiln which some Jews wrap on their forehead, arm and hand. It is inside a mezzuzah on the doorposts and gates to Jewish homes and offices. In the V'Ahavta we pray to "Be mindful" of the Torah as a means of consecrating ourselves to God.
Two Jews, one raised in a non-religious Reform house and temple and the other being Orthodox, get on a train separately . . . Do they sit down together? If they do, what do say?
I boarded the train for my trip to NYC and sat down. I remembered the kippah that I had shoved in my coat pocket on the way out and put it on.
At that moment a young Orthodox Jewish man, judging from his appearance, was walking by me in the isle. He greeted me "Shalom aleichem" and I responded "Aleichem shalom." I offered him the seat next to me. He offered me the seat next to him on the next car up. I went and sat. We started talking. We stopped at my stop - 125th/Harlem.
At that moment a young Orthodox Jewish man, judging from his appearance, was walking by me in the isle. He greeted me "Shalom aleichem" and I responded "Aleichem shalom." I offered him the seat next to me. He offered me the seat next to him on the next car up. I went and sat. We started talking. We stopped at my stop - 125th/Harlem.
It was most serendipitous for me because I had questions and thoughts about the Torah portions from both the previous and current weeks. (Parshat Beselach and Bo in the Book of Schmot, commonly known as EXODUS.)
I soon learned that this man was the Rabbi for a Chabad House at a very prominent college. He asked me about my connection to Judaism.
I said I was raised at Vassar Temple, Poughkeepsie's Reform synagogue. He responded with an assumption, "so you are secular." From the intonation of his voice I sensed he was making a statement rather than asking a question.
I soon learned that this man was the Rabbi for a Chabad House at a very prominent college. He asked me about my connection to Judaism.
I said I was raised at Vassar Temple, Poughkeepsie's Reform synagogue. He responded with an assumption, "so you are secular." From the intonation of his voice I sensed he was making a statement rather than asking a question.
Someone might have taken insult to his remark. But I didn't. For me it was just another lead into the conversation I felt we were destined to have. I was already convinced that Hashem had a reason for us to find ourselves together.
Our conversation covered nice ground. The trip flew by. We even said a healing prayer together for a mutual friend we discovered we had. As anyone who knows Chabad, the rabbi was all too happy when I asked him to put teffiln on me. I think he was surprised when I knew the V'Ahavta.
Before I knew it, my stop was not far. And I felt close enough from our conversation to ask him a very personal question that I've been waiting to ask the right Chasidic man, who so happened to be seated beside me on this particular train, because of my kippah.
Before I knew it, my stop was not far. And I felt close enough from our conversation to ask him a very personal question that I've been waiting to ask the right Chasidic man, who so happened to be seated beside me on this particular train, because of my kippah.
I asked the young rabbi, Have you ever experienced people judging you for becoming "too religious?" Has this ever been a problem for you personally?
His head rolled back and his eyes opened wide and a smile came on his face. The young bearded man in a dark suit, and a white shirt over a tallis, said without much hesitation, YES. He had a personal story to share.
His head rolled back and his eyes opened wide and a smile came on his face. The young bearded man in a dark suit, and a white shirt over a tallis, said without much hesitation, YES. He had a personal story to share.
He told that me grew up in a liberal Jewish household. When he was a just a young boy, his mother wanted him to know, "If you ever realized that you were gay I will accept you. It is OK." Many years later his mother expressed much anxiety over how religious her son had become. One day, he addressed it with her. He said to his mother, "You told me you would accept me being gay. But you have a problem with my faith in God?"
Our conversation continued until it got cut-off when the doors opened at 125th street, Harlem station. I scrambled to gather my papers and coat and raced off. The doors closed and off went the Rabbi. And so did my cell phone, which I left on the seat!
Thinking quickly I went into the Station and explained to a ticket teller that I just left my phone on the train and asked if she could contact the conductor on the train to grab it. She couldn't, but she took out her personal cell and asked me my phone number. She called my cell phone. Rabbi answered.
My cell phone problem was easily solved. I just needed to go to home and the next day I could pay the ransom to get my phone back. Off I went to have my meetings. Without my cell. Lacking a cell was karma, per my wife.
I had two wonderful meetings in NY and a special day over all. After, I took the subway uptown to Harlem to catch an evening train back to Poughkeepsie.
It was dark out when I got off the subway in Harlem. The streets were dirty. As I walked to the train station I was aware that I was a stranger. I was also aware of my Kippah. I didn't feel alone.
I've had God on my mind increasingly these last 10 years or so. The desire to wear my kippah is more common for me in my life today than when I grew up.
That was why I asked the Rabbi on the train about his personal experience. On my train ride home I wondered to myself why didn't I wear my kippah every day?
I realized it was because people might look at me strange and judge me. Most of all I was concerned what my family might think.
I am happy. I try every day to be a kind and loving person. The discomfort I feel is the internalized opinions of other people. The shame I feel is not about my relationship with God or the desire to wear a kippah. It is the shame loved ones feel about me.
I made a decision on my ride home from NYC. When I called the Rabbi the following morning to make arrangements to retrieve my phone I told him about it.
I am wearing my kippah every day. It is not my problem. It needn't be anyone else's either.
Thinking quickly I went into the Station and explained to a ticket teller that I just left my phone on the train and asked if she could contact the conductor on the train to grab it. She couldn't, but she took out her personal cell and asked me my phone number. She called my cell phone. Rabbi answered.
My cell phone problem was easily solved. I just needed to go to home and the next day I could pay the ransom to get my phone back. Off I went to have my meetings. Without my cell. Lacking a cell was karma, per my wife.
I had two wonderful meetings in NY and a special day over all. After, I took the subway uptown to Harlem to catch an evening train back to Poughkeepsie.
It was dark out when I got off the subway in Harlem. The streets were dirty. As I walked to the train station I was aware that I was a stranger. I was also aware of my Kippah. I didn't feel alone.
I've had God on my mind increasingly these last 10 years or so. The desire to wear my kippah is more common for me in my life today than when I grew up.
That was why I asked the Rabbi on the train about his personal experience. On my train ride home I wondered to myself why didn't I wear my kippah every day?
I realized it was because people might look at me strange and judge me. Most of all I was concerned what my family might think.
I am happy. I try every day to be a kind and loving person. The discomfort I feel is the internalized opinions of other people. The shame I feel is not about my relationship with God or the desire to wear a kippah. It is the shame loved ones feel about me.
Rabbi Menachem Posner said that, "Ultimately, the hope is that wearing the kippah will serve as encouragement and a gentle reminder to progress."
I am wearing my kippah every day. It is not my problem. It needn't be anyone else's either.
"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you."
Isaiah 26.3
