Writing the Torah

I had a very unusual experience today.

One of the local synagogues is having a new Torah scroll written. Members are given the opportunity to make an appointment to come and write a letter in the scroll. It actually involves putting one's hand on the quill pen as the scribe fills in the letter.

The rabbi invited the members of various groups including the town's Task Force Against Discrimination — which I'm a member of — to participate as well as synagogue members. So I signed up for 12:30 today. The scribe, who is also a rabbi, was at a table with the scroll opened at what I later learned was the end of Genesis and the beginning of Exodus. I took a seat to his right and he pointed to my letter, beit (or bet). He first told me that here it is the last letter of the name Jacob. "Cob" means "heel," the part of the foot that hits the ground first and goes into the mud, so Jacob was a striver. "Ja" is the first syllable of the name of God. The word "beit" means "house," and the letter is shaped like a house, with horizontal strokes at the top and bottom, like the roof and floor, and a vertical stroke at the right, like a wall. On the left it is open. The top stroke is like the letter dalet, which represents the number 4, and the bottom stroke is like the letter vav, which represents 6. Together, they make 10, the number of the commandments. So the letter beit represents a house, which becomes a home when people live in it; and they are called to live by the ten commandments, with the open side calling for hospitality and good relations, which can sometimes be hardest with those who also live in the house.

Then the scribe had me put my hand on the pen while he filled in the beit, which had already been outlined on the page. After we finished, I asked what the context was, and the rabbi of the synagogue told me it was Genesis 24:50 "Joseph said to his brothers: 'I am about to die. God will surely take care of you and lead you out of this land to the land he promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.'" There are two more verses in Genesis. My letter was in the last line or two of a column. There are two or three lines on the top of the next column, and then a break before the text resumes. That marks where Genesis ends and Exodus begins.

All participants are photographed and asked to sign a 3x5 card after they write their letter. The photos will become part of the record of the project, and the cards will be incorporated into the backing of the scroll. Even without those, it is a real joy to know that I will in some way be joined to the synagogue's worship as long as the scroll is there.

This is certainly something that very few people ever get to do, and I'm grateful to have been in a group that was asked to participate.

BTW, as I was arriving at the synagogue, I met our Police Chief — like me a Catholic — who is also on the Task Force — on his way out. He said his letter was quph (the second letter of Jacob).

A Good Yom Kippur

to all my Jewish readers.

L'Shana Tova

Best wishes for a good year to my Jewish readers (and to everybody else, for that matter).

Interfaith Seder

For a number of years the local chapter of the Anti-Defamation League has been holding an interfaith Passover Seder for the area north of Boston a few weeks before Passover and Easter. I've been attending since 1996.

The regular seders take place in people's homes on the first night of Passover, just like in the book of Exodus, but they have these gatherings of up to 600 people to give us non-Jews a chance to experience a something of what it's all about. Not only does it help to demystify Judaism, but it also gives Christians a chance to get a better idea of what the Last Supper was all about.

Well, I'm just back from this year's seder, and I'm exhilarated! Usually I've sat with a table of middle aged or older people, or with parents of small children. But this year I arrived just as they were beginning and the first empty seat I could find was at a table with six young people at it. Four boys and two girls. It turned out they were all freshmen at Gordon College; and they were part of a contingent of 65 who had been brought by Professor Marvin Wilson, a Christian who is a tireless champion of interfaith understanding. One of the boys was Jewish, and the others were Gentiles; and they were all from out of state (Connecticut, Virginia, California, and I don't remember the others).

The organizers had put a couple of tambourines on each table (a new thing) and they encouraged us to play them and to clap along with the music. It didn't take long for me to get into the spirit of it and clap along. The Jewish boy did a few little dance steps during several of the musical pieces, and I even did a bit. But then! After the seder was formally concluded, they had a band perform a lively Jewish number, and the Jewish boy took a tambourine and danced away from the table, with one of the girls dancing behind. A minute or two later, the rest of us walked to where they were. Then they saw a circle of dancers (holding hands and going around clockwise, counterclockwise, toward the center, back out) and the two joined it, followed soon by two more. Finally the last two encouraged me to join them in the circle and I did! The circle had become too large for the space, so several, including our Jewish boy, formed a smaller circle in the middle. Sometimes they'd be going one way while we on the outside were going the other. After several minutes I began to feel a bit winded, and left the circle, and soon the dance came to an end.

Back at our table as we picked up our things we all agreed that we hoped to see each other at next year's seder.

If you ever have a chance to go to an interfaith seder, whether organized by ADL or some other group, I strongly recommend it. We all know the importance of understanding and respect, and these seders are an excellent way of promoting one form of them.