A Canadian Jew In Australia
Plunked into the strange world of kangaroos, Aborigines and cricket, a Canadian discovers that Jews all over the world have lots in common.
The University of British Columbia Law School encourages its students to enroll in an exchange program for a semester and sample the law school of another country. After two-and-a-half years of hearing the same professors tell the same lawyer jokes, they didn't need to encourage me too much.
But I had two prerequisites for selecting an overseas law school. First, I needed my destination to have a sizeable Jewish community so I wouldn't have to worry about buying Kosher food, or finding a synagogue. So the University of East Timor and the University of Batswana were out of the question. Second, I wanted it to be a little different -- not too different, but different enough to know that I wasn't in North America anymore.
Melbourne, Australia, seemed like the perfect choice. When I got off the plane, things looked comfortably familiar. True, I almost got run over walking across the street, because people over there drive on the wrong side of the road, and I did immediately feel like I was on the set of the upcoming Crocodile Dundee sequel. But Australia couldn't really be that different, could it?
I immediately felt like I was on the set of the upcoming Crocodile Dundee sequel.
Very quickly, I found out how different it actually was. I've always thought that the best way to familiarize oneself with a country's people is to get to know the sports that they like to play. With that in mind, I sat down and watched my first cricket match which is one of Australia's national pastimes. In case you don’t know, cricket is a cross between baseball (because they use bats and a ball) and Chinese water torture (because the matches last so long that you want to kill yourself). If you think I am exaggerating, just consider that one cricket match actually lasts for five days! And you thought High Holiday services were long! To make matters worse, often times, after the five day cricket-a-thon, there isn't even a winner!
After my encounter with cricket, I needed to familiarize myself with a game that was a little faster and tried to watch Australian Rules Football. This game is a cross between soccer, football and Jujitsu -- the rules make it legal to punch your opponent in the face or bite him in the abdomen. In addition, I believe that the fans are encouraged to join in and bludgeon one another, feeling that they are somehow part of the game.
These were not the sports that I was used to at home. In fact, many things seemed to be different from what I was used to at home until I walked into a synagogue.
Although I was physically on the other side of the world, spiritually it seemed exactly the same. We recited the familiar prayers, like the Shema and the Amidah in their original Hebrew. On Shabbat, the weekly Torah portion was read in Melbourne in the same way as in most synagogues throughout the world. In addition, there was also a similar spirit of hospitality -- after services many of the congregants invited me for a Sabbath meal.
FINDING COMFORT IN THE FAMILIAR
Although I found these traditions comforting, some argue that they are restricting. For example, many people think that the liturgy should not be in Hebrew, particularly if that is a language that they don’t understand.
Indeed, the Talmud (Sotah 33a) states that it is permissible for a person to pray in his native tongue provided that he has the requisite intent and devotion. On the other hand, one can fulfill one's obligation of prayer in Hebrew, even if the words said were not understood.
Although this may seem illogical, the practical significance is obvious. Throughout my travels in communities in North America, Israel, Italy, Spain, Turkey, and Australia, I've always been able to walk into any synagogues and join with the members of that community in prayer.
Although we may not share the same language of conversation, more importantly, we share the elevated language of prayer, which Judaism teaches is the language of Creation.
We share the elevated language of prayer, which Judaism teaches is the language of creation.
We are also taught that the Members of the Great Assembly (4th century BCE,) wrote the text of the prayers through divine inspiration, capturing many mystical secrets in the choices of words and letters they used. In translation, this power is lost.
Perhaps another reason that our Sages decreed we should pray in Hebrew is that they felt that it would be a unifying force to all Jews. Our common language -- along with other common traditions -- is what really defines the Jewish people as one nation and bonds us all over the world together, not bagels, Jerry Seinfeld or Jerry Springer.
Jewish traditions are what enable us to keep our Jewish identities in tact while being citizens of the various countries that we live in. Whether we are Canadians who enjoy watching hockey, or Americans who like watching football, or Australians who have way too much time on our hands and take out five days to watch a cricket match, wherever we are, we will always be Jewish because of our common traditions.