As I sit here, reflecting on the length of time it's been since I wrote my last blog post, I'm struck by the realization that I haven't made much time for reflection at all lately. I've filled my time with work and with bacon and with more work. I've managed to squeeze in some time with out-of-town visitors and I've celebrated a birthday or two. Yet, I have not taken time to think reflectively about...well...anything. This is antithetical to my Bad Jew Practice and I'm blown away at how far off my own track I've gotten. I suppose there's no better time than the present to return to my core and get down to business. It's been almost a month since Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, so let me back up in order to move forward.
You may already know that Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, honoring the memory of Dr. King, has become a National Day of Service where American citizens are called to action to serve in their local communities. Basically, it's a pretty excellent opportunity to practice Bad Judaism. Now, sharing my feelings about this holiday's transformation into a "day of service" is not the purpose of this particular blog post. What I'd like to take this opportunity to reflect upon is something each of us may do every month, every week, or even every day. Something we may not even notice we're doing. But wait, let's back up even further. Let's go back to 1965.
In 1965, during the famous march for Black voting rights from Selma to Montgomery, AL, Dr. King was joined by his good friend and fellow civil rights advocate, Dr. Abraham Joshua Heschel. Talk about BAD JEW. Dr. Heschel was one of the greatest Jewish thinkers and teachers of the 20th century, not to mention a Bad Ass Jewish Activist. So here he is in Selma, this rabbi and master scholar, marching with Dr. King, doing his Bad Jew Thing, rather than staying in New York where he worked and studied at the Jewish Theological Seminary. Heschel's own reflection on this experience?
“When I marched in Selma, I felt my feet were praying.”
Now, coincidentally, if we keep our reflection focused on the weekend of MLK Day, we can easily find out that the Torah portion for that particular Shabbat was Beshalach, in which Moses gets some serious instructions on how to part the Red Sea and the Israelites use their feet to march themselves to freedom from Egypt. I mean, lots of other things happen in the parsha, but let's focus on the fancy footwork.
So here we have two distinct ways of looking at using our feet: 1) marching for freedom (freedom to vote, freedom from slavery) and, 2) praying. The first way is pretty literal. We were in Selma, and now we're in Montgomery. We were in Egypt, and now we're not. But how do we PRAY with our feet? What did Heschel mean?
My own interpretation is that action IS prayer. And if we define prayer as the space in which we talk to God, then for some of us, that space is created through civic engagement; through service, in whatever form speaks most clearly to us. Moreover, if we forget to take time to reflect and listen to what's calling us to pray, we may lose sight of our Bad Jew purpose.
Now, think about your past month, your past week, the past 24 hours and ask yourself this: How do YOU pray with your feet? And if that's not enough, if you need to go deeper, ask yourself this: How do you bring yourself back to your core and reflect when you're out of practice?
Me? I'm still asking myself both.
