(RNS) — I was talking with a Roman Catholic-raised friend who no longer practices the religion of his youth. At a certain point in the conversation, he snorted about “cafeteria Catholics,” which sardonically describes those who adhere to parts of Catholic teachings or practice certain rituals, but dissent from others.
It made me realize I am a “cafeteria Jew.”
Which brings me to Kate Mishkin, the creator of a compelling podcast with an enviable pun as its title, “Shofar, So Good.”
In her podcast, she engages in thoughtful, gutsy conversations about weighty subjects like prayer, death and forgiveness.
In our “Martini Judaism” podcast interview, we talk about her childhood growing up with interfaith parents and in the religion of what people call “Jewish values.” And we take a deep dive into what those values might be.
Kate Mishkin. (Photo by Kim Silverstein)
We also talk about her life as a journalist, living and working in a variety of places, but especially in Charleston, West Virginia, which is not exactly the Tel Aviv (or even Haifa) of America, but a place where she found herself Jewishly, largely through the help of a remarkable rabbi in that community.
We also talk about some of the crazier things she has covered as a journalist, like a family that sold bleach as a false cure for COVID-19 and an obscure cult leader. But mostly, we talk about what it means for her to claim her Jewish identity, to feel part of the ancient, ever-evolving story, and to make it her own.
Kate hit me with a metaphor I never considered before. She described herself as walking along the beaches of the world with a metal detector, sifting through the sand searching for Jewish objects and ideas. She knows there are many beaches in the world and a whole lot of sand. Those objects and ideas are rarely just below the surface, but found several inches deeper. It means there is a lot of work to do.
This is a metaphor for Judaism I happen to love. We once might have imagined that Judaism comes to us as a completely wrapped package, and all we have to do is open it up and there it is — a full-blown identity. Not anymore.
Through this lens, Judaism can be viewed as a collection of choices we make. Almost every day, we curate our Jewish identities and make meaning of them. This means certain things get in — say, Shabbat, Passover and social justice — but other things wind up on the back burner, maybe keeping kosher or building a sukkah.
Some might cynically call that “cafeteria Judaism,” and they would not be wrong.
The truth is, I don’t know any Jew, even the seemingly most pious, who takes on the entirety of the tradition. We are always picking and choosing. You could also call it Israeli hotel breakfast buffet Judaism — where you walk through the line, see what is available, see what looks good, take it back to your table and enjoy it.
But the most important thing is these choices are not static. Just as you can try many different foods over a multiday stay at a hotel, you might try many different things over the course of a Jewish life.
Let’s put it another way. Many years ago, Rabbi Arnold Jacob Wolf talked about what it means to choose Jewish ideas and observances. He called it “Judaism Street”:
“I try to walk the road of Judaism. Embedded in that road there are many jewels. One is marked ‘Sabbath,’ and one ‘Civil Rights’ and one ‘kashrut’ and one ‘Honor Your Parents’ and one ‘Study of Torah’ and one ‘You Shall Be Holy.’ There are at least 613 of them, and they are of different shapes and sizes and weights. Some are light and easy for me to pick up, and I pick them up. Some are too deeply embedded for me, so far at least, though I get a little stronger by trying to extricate the jewels as I walk the street. Some, perhaps, I shall never be able to pick up. I believe that God expects me to keep on walking Judaism Street and to carry away whatever I can of its commandments. I do not believe that God expects me to lift what I cannot, nor may I condemn my fellow Jew who may not be able to pick up even as much as I can.”
It all depends on the attitude with which you go through the buffet, or travel down Judaism Street or walk along the beach looking for treasures in the sand.
As for me, my attitude has always been curiosity, openness and a willingness to give my tradition the benefit of the doubt.
Listen to Kate Mishkin, and learn from her.
