Gotta Have Faith

Today is Yom Kippur. Observant Jews take the day off and do, well, nothing. During a 24 hour period, Jews are not supposed to work, not to set fires, use electricity, and so forth. It is a time of contemplation and prayer.

This meant, of course, that Tony Kornheiser did not do his show today, and so he had a "best of" show, which sounded like a replay of last week's show when he broadcast on Rosh Hashanah. Now, if he were more observant, he might take that day off for religious reasons. Some years, he said, he does braodcast. Some years he doesn't. It's something he wrestles with. On the years he does, he justifies it by saying that he's entertaining lots of people, so he's sharing happiness.

Rosh Hashanah is the Jewish New Year. It is a two day celebration, where families get together. It's a time to repent for one's sins. This is a ten day period, known as the High Holy Days, and culminates in Yom Kippur, where Jews must fast, not engage in work, nor engage in other pleasures.

On the Rosh Hashanah episode, Tony spent a few minutes talking about faith. It's a topic that most are uncomfortable discussing, especially on a sports program. Andy, who is also Jewish, took the day off. One of his other colleagues is half Jewish, half Catholic, so he says that really messed him up. Stern, who's British, joked that he worshipped druids, which has to do with the ancient religion surrounding Stonehenge, and pre-Christian Britain.

Tony himself rebelled against religion as a youth, though he has made attempts to come back. He found, though, when he came back, that going to the synagogue was a foreign experience. The service was not conducted in English (presumably Hebrew), and those in attendance already knew the rituals, which Tony had never really learned. All in all, it was not something he felt at ease with.

In fact, he found the services geared to children far more enjoyable. It was conducted in English, and he could understand the motivation behind what the kids wer being taught. Once his kids were old enough to move to more mature services, Tony still wanted to stay with the little kids. Whether this is true or not, it reflects Tony's quest to find something with Judaism that would fit his comfort level.

I suspect this is one reason why Protestant churches that have split off from Catholicism have wanted to escape from the formality of the Catholic church. At one point in history, perhaps no more than fifty years ago, it wasn't uncommon to have services in Latin, rather than the language of those in attendance. Some churches have even used services to talk about politics, trying to engage followers in one political party or another. Frankly, I don't think that's their place, but it makes the message more immediate.

While I can understand the idea of religious folks who feel that the secular world despises them for simple-minded and dogmatic belief, I find it far more intriguing to listen to those who question the way they were raised. This is not an uncommon experience for children of immigrants, who question why parents want them to cling to a parent culture instead of embracing the allure of the new culture (and to avoid the taunts of those who can't stand anything new).

To Tony, what's more fascinating are those who switch faiths. He says that, among Jews, those that convert are to be praised. This is a transition that most are unwilling to take. It suggests a need for faith, and yet, being let down by the faith that one was raised in.

I used to be very uncomfortable with notions of faith, because I was raised in a rather secular manner. While people claim that Americans are deeply religious, it's still not so prevalent that it was in my face. Even those that attend church regularly often treat it as a private experience, which is, to me, just the way it should be.

At this point in my life, I'm not ready to put faith in religion. Nevertheless, I find it fascinating for those who do, and more importantly, for those who question their faith, for it is those people, I feel, that faith has meaning. When you can go to church or synagogue or mosque unquestioningly, that, to me, is not real faith. It is a kind of competition. Who can believe harder than me? It is a crutch.

I once heard an interview with Salman Rushdie, famous for having a fatwa set against him. He was raised as a Muslim, but basically abandoned the faith. He only regrets, that during the initial parts of the persecution, he reaffirmed his belief in Islam, which wouldn't have been a problem were he truly repentant, but really, he did it to avoid getting killed, and that wasn't a good enough reason in his mind.

He was asked, by a reporter, whether he envies those who wake up in the morning, secure in their faith. He said no, he does not, because it's a lie. No one knows the intention of God, neither the devout, nor the atheist. No one has ever known, and to believe strongly and fervently does not make it so.

I'm also reminded of Joe Simpson, who wrote Touching the Void, who was left for dead, when his climbing partner, Simon Yates, cut a rope, to save his own life. He managed to crawl back, with broken limbs, over several days, back to his base camp. He said, even at his most despairing, he did not pray to a God for forgiveness, which made him sure that he didn't really believe in a God.

So I find myself, with a few minutes on my hand, listening to a sports show, on the holiest of Jewish days, the Day of Atonement, thinking about faith.