Bad Religious Experiences

Western Wall
Dear Rabbi J.,

You are perhaps the only Rabbi that I feel I can write to about the following painful subject.

I grew up in a very secular home, with no faith and no G-d. My parents were both highly intelligent, cultured individuals. My father amassed a fortune as a shrewd and successful businessman, while my mother was a professional in her own right. But despite my family’s stature, we grew up in a loveless home. Our parents were not there for us, nor were they there for each other. My parents were not loyal to each other and ultimately divorced, leaving my siblings and me adrift.

I was always conscious of being Jewish, though I knew nothing about it. As I suffered through my un-nurturing home life, I began a spiritual search that ultimately led me to the Jewish community. There I found a warmth and love that I had never before experienced. The power of Jewish tradition – Shabbat, prayer, even kosher – resonated with me. Not that commitment came easily to me. But I appreciated the power of commitment – something I had never really experienced. My life was all about shifting loyalties, broken promises, dashed dreams – all creating profound distrust and insecurity. But now I discovered something new: Committed people to each other, to family, to community and to a higher calling. It was quite compelling. I also sensed a simplicity and even rejection of the high culture I grew up in. Most of the religious Jews I met were not open to other ideas and to a free-spirited perspective. But I reckoned that perhaps the trade-off was worth it: Sacrificing some of the beauty of art and literature, but without a rudder, for a life of trust, love and commitment, with very strong sense of purpose.

I was seduced by the observant lifestyle, and I slowly but surely became totally observant myself. At some point I couldn’t do enough. I made friends quickly and was welcomed into the community with open arms. For every friend and family I came to know another set of traditions became part of my regimen. I began using my Hebrew name in place of my secular one. I was kissing mezuzahs, reciting Tehillim, running to synagogue, praying at holy places, tying red strings on every one of my joints. I even took an extended leave from work to go study in a Yeshiva in Israel. And I met many others on a similar journey. As I look back at it now, it all was a blurring whiz – I was completely taken and consumed by the euphoria, like a marathon runner whose legs can’t stop moving, being pulled along on the adrenalin generated by the cheers of all the bystanders and the momentum of my fellow runners.

Pretty soon I was one of those “baalei teshuvah,” with various Rabbis and Rebbetzin’s taking credit for my miraculous “return” to my roots. Adding a feather to many caps, I was then deluged with “shidduchim,” potential marriage mates, whom I began to date. At that point, I began to feel my own self re-emerging and wasn’t really sure what I wanted outside of the demands and pressures of those around me. Truth be told, their intentions were for the most part pure, but they simply did not allow me to be myself. With the argument that they – or as they would put it, the “Torah” – knows better. I realized that my great hunger for spirit and meaning totally overwhelmed my senses and my sense of self, and I was being carried on the waves of enthusiasm. I seriously couldn’t distinguish between who I was as opposed to who others thought I was; between my individual needs and the expectations of me. The boundaries became blurred: where did others end and where did I begin?

And then the ax fell. The honeymoon was over. As I began to land and returned to my daily routines, I also began to see many of the flaws of the communities that embraced me. Frankly, that did not disturb me at all. I was not a child nor naïve; I understood that every social circle has its strengths and its weaknesses. People are people. What drew me to the religious community was not a fantastic expectation that I found perfect people; rather that I had found a perfect Judaism – a way that G-d wants us to live. What ended up truly troubling me was that so many of the religious community were simply mindless and mechanical – and callous. That too is forgivable; the secular world is not much different. What was not forgivable, however, was that in their mindlessness (masked in blind faith) many were cruel and selfish. And to top it off, when “dressed” in religious garb, the self-righteousness is simply unbearable. From condescension to outright arrogance, anything that did not neatly fit into the “comfortable” zone of the initiated was simply dismissed or criticized. Religion was much more about appearances and mechanics than it was about inner spiritual development. Except for a rare few, I did not witness introspection, an effort in personal refinement and growth, deepening love and relationships. That’s fine, as long as you don’t spend your time criticizing others and convincing yourself that you are better than others just because you are wearing a sheitel.

My questions, for example, became the irritating voice of the malcontent. From “she’s too independent” to the profoundly psychological “what can you do, she comes from a dysfunctional family,” people seemed to need to explain me away some way, instead of just having an intelligent conversation that perhaps would enlighten us all.

Especially destructive were those Rabbis and teachers who always knew “what was best for me.” I appreciate their scholarship, but many are quite unevolved when it comes to human emotions and personal refinement. They hide behind texts and quote chapters, verses and halachot. But some simply are clueless of the “fifth” shulchan aruch – common sense. Some of these “authorities” felt that they had to baby-sit for the “nebech” me and others who unfortunately did not grow up “frum.” Their guidance, I understand today, was anything but empowering. It was not driven by confidence in our souls, but by fear that we would wander off. Their intentions may have been fine, but they fundamentally believe that in Judaism there is an “us” and a “them,” “haves” and “have-nots,” and that they were superior to the less informed and educated. If you rejected their advice, on whatever grounds, you were turned on, blacklisted and cast out of the “inner circle.”

Today I am alienated and angry. Lonely and disturbed. And yes, I have regressed in my observance. I deeply love the spiritual path of Judaism. [Not all is lost, Rabbi. I still kiss mezuzahs and wear my red string… Among other things that I cherish and embrace, including Shabbat]. Yet I cannot find a community where I can belong. Equally sad are the other lonely souls that I meet with similar stories.

Many have completely rejected the Jewish tradition that they once embraced. Some are livid when it comes to this topic. I am not in that category. Please understand: I am not writing to you to vent my grievances or to just criticize the “system.” I see much of its beauty and am eternally grateful to those that took me in, taught me and in many ways transformed my life.

I am writing on a personal level: How should I view my experience? What should I be doing? Is there hope?

D. A.

Dear D. A.,

Thank you for writing and opening up a “Pandora’s box” of issues that affect many people, yet is hardly discussed, at least in a Torah context. I for one firmly believe that as irreverent as your questions may be, it is absolutely critical to address them in a constructive and meaningful manner. Hopefully this can be a catalyst that will generate a wider discussion in the broader community.

As you accurately emphasize, the focus here should not be on criticizing the negative elements of the “system” and “establishment.” That deserves its own discussion – and much can be said about it. What I will then discuss is the actual spiritual/religious journey you describe – a journey that many have taken – and its challenges and hazards, and above all: how we are to navigate in face of all the shortcomings you describe and many more that you don’t.

You may be surprised to hear that your dilemma – troubling so many people today – is addressed in this week’s Torah portion.

The chapter describes a defining event in history: For the first time ever the Divine presence finds a home in the material universe – in the Mishkan, the holy Sanctuary. “Built me a Sanctuary and I will rest among you.” As the verse states: On this first momentous “opening” day of the Mishkan, “G-d’s glory was revealed to all the people. Fire came forth from before G-d and consumed the burnt offering.”

You can imagine what kind of powerful reaction this must have caused amongst the people who witnessed this unprecedented revelation. What happened next? “When the people saw this, they raised their voices in praise and threw themselves on their faces” in complete awe.

Then, in a moment of utter spiritual ecstasy, “Aaron’s sons, Nadav and Avihu, each took his fire pan, placed fire on it and then incense. They offered before G-d a strange fire, which He had not instructed them. Fire came forth from G-d and it consumed them, and they died before G-d.”

Aaron’s sons had a religious awakening, and in their sheer hunger and bliss, they were driven to enter the Holy of Holies, and got consumed by the very fire they were trying to contain.

What did they do wrong? They moved too fast and did so at their own volition, unprepared. The fire was Divine, but it was “strange” to them. They were not ready to contain it.

Though Nadav and Avihu were on a level loftier than any of us will ever attain, the lesson to us all is very clear:

True faith is a powerful force. Like a fire it has the power to warm and illuminate, but also the power to consume and destroy. When edging close to the fire great care has to be taken to ensure that you are able to take the heat and contain the light.

Do not lose yourself in the process of becoming Divine. You have to own your choices. Faith ought not be a “strange fire” which is alien to you; it needs to be integrated into your being. If not, its intensity can burn you.

Does this then mean that we should not embrace Judaism until it is totally integrated? Absolutely not! An equally polarizing approach is to be so cautious of the fire that we never make a move.

Balance is the key: Knowing how to move forward at your own pace, in a way that doesn’t overwhelm and consume you. One mitzvah at a time. “Mitzvah goreres mitzvah,” our sagely wisely tell us. One mitzvah brings along another.

The outcome of the Nadav and Avihu story is not that no one shall ever enter the holy sanctuary; rather, G-d lays out an entire set of rules, a process, as to how one is to enter the holy place and remain intact.

This delicate dance is especially acute for sensitive souls who sense the power of the fire. Aaron’s sons were the most spiritual of them all, as Moses makes it abundantly clear that their demise was a result of their greatness. It was their deep love and passion for the Divine that caused them to enter the Temple unprepared (as the Ohr haChaim explains).  Moses told Aaron that his sons’ experience fulfilled G-d’s words, “I will be sanctified among those close to Me, and I will thus be glorified.”

Deep souls hungry for spirituality and cognizant of its intimate power have to be especially careful when faced with a Divine experience.

Too often religion is presented in a didactic and dogmatic way. Peer and social pressure is applied demanding conformation. And you – the individual – are lost in the process. While there is value in inspiring someone with faith and there is a notion of joining a community and not standing on the side (“al tifrosh min hatzibbur”), at the same time, however, the power of community is only possible after an individual has found his distinct place and unique voice. Then he can join – and actually help – create a community to which he is loyal. But the group is not meant to stunt or annihilate the individual, rather to enhance him. First, we must cultivate self-confidence, and then allow the individual to make and own his or her choices.

As important as a community may be, as welcoming as a religious group may be – what is even more important is that the individual entering the community be allowed and encouraged to move at his or her own pace.  This helps ensure that newfound spiritual truth will be integrated into his or her being.

This is true even in the purest form of religious experience. How much more so when it is being presented by flawed human beings, who themselves are hardly role models and paragons of spiritual refinement.

Too often, certain teachers, guides and mentors see their role as one of prodding along, directing, even babysitting for a person who is just being initiated into Judaism. Even if their intentions are right, it is vital to gauge the needs of the individual, not the needs of the teacher, lest one ends up burning a person who is not yet ready for such spiritual enlightenment.

How much more so when the teacher is far from perfect and may not be the best representative of the message. Then, it is of critical importance, that the teacher qualify his or her role and humbly acknowledge how he or she and all of us are in the same boat, and are available to help each other.

Thus, while it’s true that children need to be directed in the path of faith, and we all, even adults, are in need of the support and guidance of teachers and mentors, yet, the ultimate goal is not to create dependencies but independence. Because, after all is said and done, the path of faith is not about the teacher, nor is it about the community; it is about G-d and His personal relationship with each one of us. The spiritual path is not a superimposed one but one that allows and facilitates the true human personality to emerge – the Divine Image in which each of us individually was created.

The ultimate role of a teacher, a mentor and a Rabbi is to inspire, motivate and empower each of us in that direction. If an adult is unable to own his faith there is something seriously wrong.

Bureaucracy, more than religion, is the root of the attitude that religion is an elitist country club with a few “gifted” authorities – blessed with being born religious and having received a solid education, achieved scholar status and authority – bestowing their benevolence on others and allowing them into the inner club. Either we believe that all people were created equally in the Divine Image or we don’t. Religion is not an end in itself; it is not about a set of rituals and traditions. It is about allowing the soul to be free and actualizing the potential within each one of us.

The spiritual journey is not about self-indulgence, neither is it about scoring points. It is the sacred journey of discovering your life mission. It is a Divine journey aimed at releasing your soul and transforming your corner of the universe into a home for G-d.  So, though we need the support from communities and structure, above all it is a fiercely personal journey that has little to do with other people’s expectations and pressures.

This is the profound and yet simple lesson each one of us today can learn from Nadav and Avihu: Own your faith; make it yours; integrate it. Don’t allow it to be strange to you. Or else…

Once it becomes ours then we will be less vulnerable to the predators, to the community, and to the pressures around us. The fire, especially in the hands of those who don’t always appreciate it, can be a force that annihilates personalities and ends up being used as yet another weapon of control.

It is up to each of us to understand that we are adults and to assume responsibility for our choices, with the full and complete ability to live up to them.

I empathize with your life story and cry for your disappointments, as well as for so many others who have lost their trust in the Jewish community. With that being said, please don’t succomb to joining yet another club – the ex-club, “ex-baal-teshuva,” ex-orthodox, or the other exes out there, who gather together and share horror stories of the religious world. I understand the tendency and even healing element in finding a support group; I do not dismiss the value that it offers (no different than any of the support programs that help many people heal from various addictions and abuses). But true healing comes when we don’t just complain but we do something to improve the situation.

As it is with healing from any form of abuse – religious abuse included – we cannot afford to just wallow in grief and bitterness. To sit around and complain about absentee fathers and neurotic mothers doesn’t allow us to grow. It keeps us trapped as victims. And if Judaism and faith is anything it is not about victimization. It is about empowerment. We must mobilize ourselves and create a revolution.

Allow your disappointments inform you and others. Your disillusionment contains much more than a negative experience; it demonstrates that 1) you have/had great confidence and aspirations in the spiritual path, 2) you have experienced first-hand the inadequacies and failures of the “system.” This places you in the unique position to do something about it.

Those who have personally experienced the limitations and shortcomings of the religious community are uniquely positioned to teach us all how we can create a spiritual revolution, and do so in fashion that allows us to bypass the petty and partisan forces of the system, and above all – allows the spirit within each of us to shine.

The key is that you care. You genuinely and sincerely are troubled about the situation. Don’t allow that concern to turn into resignation. It would be a terrible shame if you allowed some flawed people and underdeveloped communities to shatter your dreams and hopes; it would be a great loss if your experiences undermine everything you ever believe in, your confidence, and your spirit.

Even Aaron’s sons, though consumed by the fire, were driven by their spiritual heights, by their love and passion for the Divine.

Now you are at a place where you can own your Judaism; where you can express your faith with your beautiful and unique voice.

Don’t be afraid of yourself. Don’t be afraid of those who want you to conform.  Throughout history the masses have tried to intimidate the spirited few. It was our great father Abraham who pioneered the path of individuality. Defying the mainstream, he forged a path toward G-d.

Today, too, we need you to be our Abraham. You, who have been burned by the fire, teach us how to walk slowly, but proudly.

It is vital that we create a network, a healthy and powerful synergy of like-minded individuals, who are on the spiritual journey and have yet to din their place. We must create grass-root connections (if not communities).  So much good can grow out of that.

Please see me as a friend and kindred spirit, offering you any support I can in your journey. Hopefully we both can help each other and many others in our mutual Divine odyssey.

Much success in your journey. May it be glorious.

Discover ways to express yourself within religion and in all areas of your life with best-seller, Toward a Meaningful Life by Simon Jacobson

Image: “The Western Wall” by: israeltourism  [CC BY-SA 2.0 ]


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16 years ago

Thank you for posting so poignant a story, one that does so much good for me, as it offers me support. I, too, mbraced my religion, became devoted to my Jewish community.
What happened was, after three years of active participation and learning and attending and becoming involved very much so, the Rabbi made a sexual overture towards me.
That shattered me so. I spiritually crashed. I couldnt believe it. I did not leave right away, however, as I was not able to as I had entered the shul at a point of family crises, and did not feel strong enough to leave. And I wanted to reach a level of forgiveness. So I continued attending, not without difficulty.
However, what happened next just made it impossible for me to continue. I saw that the rabbi was doing the same thing to another woman. That was more than I could bear. It became painful for me to be a part of the shul. I made an appointment with him and told him how I felt. He spoke of serious self examination, and I wanted to believe that he would. To no avail. At the next Shabbos, his message was that if I didnt like what he was doing that was too bad because thats the way life is.
That was the last time I attended the shul. I had been so devoted a member and so glad to learn and work and offer my abilities and give tzedukah and make my religion and my shul a big part of my life.
I was betrayed and used. I have little respect for the rabbi who I once revered and held up as my spiritual leader. Looking back on the situation, I see where he lured me into a position of expressing his emotional desire for me. I entered my shul in an extremely vulnerable state, and in hindsight, see that I was taken advantage of. I deeply regret these past events, and am now disenfranchized from the community that I once loved, and that once was a part of my life that was vital to me.
This is a huge loss on all parts. My community members call me to ask why they dont see me. I make up excuses. This series of incidents have left me turned away from the community and the religious observance that I once loved. Please respond. Thank you.

16 years ago

wow, that was realy inspirational!!

16 years ago

Hi Rabbi J;

I am returning from Beijing where I spent Pesach with my son who is on Shlichus there. I am a Baalei Tchuva and know exactly what the experiences the writer is referring to. I have of course my own story and challenges. When I became frum I kept very far from any of my past connections and interests until about 5 years ago when slowly I began to reintegrate my past into my present committments.

When I became frum,for a long time I I used to call myself a left-wing right-wing .I have now come almost- full circle, returning to a certain extent to many of my past counter-culture or alternative life-style interests,(ie macrobiotics, homeopathy, gestalt, rapid eye movement therapy, 12 step work), re-evaluating them and trying to sift out what is good.. It has been a gradual process of putting together who I am, with who I was, and how I believe HaShem wants me to become.

I believe HaShem created/creates each person as a sort of prism, each with their own abilities, capacities, failings, challenges, each with the goal of revealing Godliness through the prism of themselves…HaShem wants a dwelling place in every part of the world and that includes the particular part of the world that is Me…That is Me in my individuality, my past, my present, my future, with my successes and failings, my efforts and my searchings, my inspirations and my disillusiions…
I believe that when I recognize that wherever I am, there God is – when I continue to study and learn and question and read- when I try to think into how HaShem would want me to act in my every present situation- when I reach out to my Torah guides, those whom I trust, those whom I consider understand where I am and what is applicable to me -then I believe that I am continuing on the right path toward what HaShem wants of me…

Thankyou for your inspiring columns.


Sheilah D.
16 years ago

Dear Rabbi Jacobseon: Thank you so much for sharing this wise womans thoughts. As a kindred spirit myself, much of what she said resonated within me. Common sense was something my mother, ztl drummed into me and lately, Ive been questioning my own relationships with the people in my world and applying common sense. You are so right, we all need to define for ourselves what our commitment is to Hashem, to ourself and to those around us. For me, Hashem not only butters my bread but gives me the bread, so our relationship is a very careful one. People are very disappointing and I find that its hard to accept and love them when you dont know their story, so to speak. As an older person, I find deeping my relationship to Hashem works for me and trying not to expect too much from others is what Im working on now. I try not to disappoint and its not easy. We live with so much stress that if my connections with Hashem and the world I live in are not strengthened than I might as well crawl into bed, put the covers over me, say Shma and wait for Messiah. Happy and healthy Pesach. All the best, Sheilah D.

Shloime Gestetner
16 years ago

Dear Reb Simon:
I just want to thank you for the excellent article that you wrote in response to the question of D.A.
Working with so many Baalei Teshuva I hear this type of discussion offer and thought that both the question and answer were written with sensitivity and wisdom.
Yasher Koach in your incredible work of hafotzas Hamayanos,
Shloime Gestetner
Mayanot Institute of Jewish Studies

16 years ago

This is great that you published and responded to this letter. I have found many times that people jump into the religious lifestyle way too quickly, people encourage this super rapid change over, and then they come to and want out in a hurry, since it was never truly assimilated.
Lomita, California

16 years ago

Esteemed Rabbi,

Thank you for sharing this letter, which articulates so many of the conflicting issues for those who are striving to better themselves (someone once told me that if you do more mitzvahs today than yesterday, you are a baal tshuvah.

If you friend find the community for which she is looking, let me know. Id like to move there, too.

Kol tuv,

16 years ago

Rabbi Simon Jacobson,

Thank you!
This one really resonates with me!
I do go to shul on a regular basis although lately I have been doing a
lot more wrestling with G-d than usual.
Yes, you are right. Once you have been alienated from any community
you have both the intellectual and emotional tools needed to transform
the community, improve it, make it better.
All Jews were once slaves in Egypt.
Have a good Shabbos.


Dr. Yaacov Lefcoe
11 years ago

Both the letter and the response are breathtaking in the sensitivity and intelligence with which they approach this important issue. Thank you both!

In this connection: I wrote an MA Thesis in Psychology called Sharing Teshuva Wisdom: Judaically-informed Psychotherapeutic Counselling of Baal Teshuva Returnees to Judaism which broaches several of the themes dealt with in the article. It is available for download on my site here:

Thank you again. Please both of you continue to express these most important thoughts!

Yaacov Lefcoe, Ph.D., C. Psych.,
Psychologist (Supervised Practice),

11 years ago

Bravo. Bravo.

11 years ago

Mankind was given the Torah for a reason. Why we were created in such a way as to need it in the first place is another story but the basic truth remains the same, human behavior can and does have its challenges and the Torah and our personal experiences can provide a pathway to a higher place (if we are lucky). Our community and its leadership have all of the shortcomings of of the common person. It is how we process all of this and move on which is the question. We have been blessed with a myriad of miracles and we all need to find a place for ourselves using our experiences and teachings to elevate our behavior to a place closer to our creator. Your upbringing, while filled with many challenges, allows you a perspective which other folks may not be able to share and appreciate. If we grow up in perfection, how do you know it. Finding a place in the world for ourselves is always the challenge. It is a much easier task when we try to remain cogniscent of out blessings. Shabbat Shalom!

11 years ago

Dear Rabbi, I am not Jewish but this resonated so deeply with me. In Christian communities, too, the individual can get lost in the spiritual beaurocracy. People must be allowed to proceeded at their own pace in order to integrate spiritual insights. Thank you for this.

11 years ago

I left Judaism to see what more life offered. I am now married to a non-Jewish man and we have a son. We have become active in our local Chabad and even my non-Jewish husband davens. I was never raised orthodox and yet my family (3 of us) embraces the practice because there is so much acceptance, encouragement, and kindness. More than I found in reformed. We sing shema nightly before bed and by end of this year hope to have a kosher kitchen. This is by g-d and by our wonderful rabbi and rebbetzin. I have found that spirituality and Judaism starts at home and judgment comes from my past and inner voice that I often need to turn off. I am not devout as I do not dress and my husband is not jewish, however, our spiritual practice of keeping shabbas and all the other holidays is strong. Thank you Rabbi for your words of wisdom and reprinting this article. It resonated with me entirely and I understand from both perspectives. We do have a responsibility to remind and remember. Judaism teaches us this especially at Passover which we just completed. We are still human beings doing the best we can. Guidance and lessons are g-ds doing and come in many ways that are both subtle and obvious.

11 years ago

Dear Rabbi, thank you for this perspective.
We should know that religion; any religion in its core is about healing of our Love, the Unconditional Love that is and nothing else. This Love in its essence is G-d, which is the wholeness itself; however, so few of us are truly aware of it, because we seem to reflect on everything intellectually. Surely, the intelligence plays a big part in our intellectual perception; however, Love can be truly perceived only emotionally. We have to remember; how we think, and how we feel, needs to be honest and kept in balance, otherwise we could be burnt, or simply go mental.

Fannie greenfield
11 years ago

As Rebbe Nachman said: life is like a very narrow bridge. The most important thing is when we walk upon it, not to be afraid. People, no matter how learned, or well meaning, can only advise. But they all have their own agendas. Each of us must have the faith in ourselves to experiment and see. If we can find the value in the difficult experience, then we can move on in gratitude without the resentment that prevents us from making our personal connection with the One. As for finding community, it might be wise to stop looking for it and allow it to come to you.

Lorraine L
11 years ago

Thanks for printing the letter and your reply. I found it thought-provoking It feels to me that the rapid rate which the lady traveled to become involved in her Judaism was related to the void she experienced in her earlier loveless childhood as she puts it.

Rivka K
11 years ago

Thank you so much for that article. I also am a Baal Tzhuvah, and expirenced much of the same as the writer. Youre response to her was excellent. I would like to share a thought or two which helped me greatly, and is not much different from your response. People are not perfect, but Hashem, and His Torah is. The other idea is the three loves, Hashem, Torah, and His people. The Rebbe says if you love Hashems people you will come to the other two. I have found that the more I accept and love people with all their flaws, whether they are the greatest Talmud Scholars or mentally impaired, the closer I feel to Hashem and to my true mission. We must look at all people the way the Baal Shem Tov did, if you see someone acting badly it must be a lesson for you to either change your self, or help the person to change using love, and compassion. One more idea. Its no coincidence there are so many Baal Tzhuvahs in this generation with similar stories as the writer. We have a very important mission, and its imperative that we develop ourselves. We are on Shlichus too. We have the unique ability, opportunity, and responsibility to inspire all the people in our corner of the world that only we can do. We cannot, and should not waste our precious time dwelling on all the injustices done to us, but rather focus on how to bring more goodness to the world.
Rivka K.

11 years ago

This is to the previous writer: I also had a similar situation and it is unbelievable, isnt it? It happened to me 7 years ago and it still boggles my mind; how many people has he dealt with like that must be an interesting fact.

Ruchama Burrell
10 years ago

I find it useful to remind myself that the Torah is compared to water. Like water, Torah takes the shape of the vessel that holds it. Rabbis and teachers have personalities and personal limitations. All of these affect how they react. Obsessive and controlling personalities often alienate those with different personality traits.

Also, as the writer and other commentators noted, the phenomenon of imperfect vessels is not limited to the religious of any tradition.

Those of us who are passionate and devoted often seek to immerse totally and immediately. As a convert and having worked with both converts and baal tshuvas,I have often found it necessary to counsel against trying to do too much too fast. When you thirst, there is a temptation to swallow too much too fast. This will literally make you sick. Diving in and trying to swim too far to fast can lead to exhaustion.

Having recognized her condition, the writer now can move ahead with more wisdom and care. The mitzvot are a priceless gift. The more we can carry the richer we are. But not everyone can carry everything. If the gifts becomes too heavy, putting some down and resting until we are ready to pick them up again, surely is better than abandoning them altogether.

Norman Siller
10 years ago

Being a bal tshuva as well a recovering addict myself I can relate very well to the writers concerns. I see the same things in religious communities and the recovery community.
I had to learn to keep myself focused on my own spiritual paths, not someone elses.
In AA I once had a sponser who in one of our private meetings got a phone call and proceeded to throw the phone against the wall since he did not get what he wanted. All I said to myself was this guy ( who had 5 years clean & ran a halfway house) is going to show me how to stay clean? Something is wrong with this picture.
In regards to religion, regardless of how a shluchim or any orthodox person acts or presents himself I need to focus not on them but on Judaic teachings; this is where I have found and have been taught the importance of a rebbe. A true spiritual leader to follow.
As much as a local rabbi can be be inspiring and can teach me many things I can still be aware of his human failings.
It took me a long time before I could stop my negative attitudes in life, which caused me to see negative things. I still see them but I move past them today and look for the positive. It seems to me the writer of this letter needs to do the same. It is good to be aware of the realities around us, both negative and positive, but we must focus on Hashem. To learn his ways we must find those teachers who best emulate his ways. Any Torah Scholar can teach me Torah. But how to internalize those teachings too many of these so called scholars just dont do.

Marla A.
8 years ago

Dearest Rabbi,
Your response literally ended with me being in tears-you are SO generous,SO empowering and SO loving with your words and suggestions to this person, it blew me away, and just made me more proud of being Jewish and loving Hashem. Thank-you for pointing out to him the heart of being a MOT is truly about. It reminds me of the time when someone asked me “where I was affiliated?”Without a moment’s hesitation, I pointed my finger upwards to the sky and said, “I’m affiliated with HaShem!”…….to which she (being the personal assistant to a very well-known and most respected Orthodox Rabbi) sort of all at once looked shocked and impressed….she responded by saying”Well I guess that’s the most important THING !”
And therein I KNEW that my faith was GROUNDED,UNQUESTIONABLE and SOLID. And it was built
by Eating the Meal…..not Reading the Menu! One bite at a time, by the way! Thank-you for being WHO you are and HOW you are. Many Many Blessings to you and yours! MarlaA./Atlanta,GA.

jill halpern
8 years ago

dear Rabbi Jacobson,

That was one of the most beautiful and right on responses I have ever read by you. I have had the pleasure in hearing you speak in my hometown of New Orleans, and have followed you for years. I am so moved by what you wrote, and it surpasses anything else you have written for me.

8 years ago

The continuum of bad religious experiences is so vast, sadly this deeply poignant post barely covers the tip of the ice-berg. Having experienced the dissonance of growing up in a deeply observant home of Holocaust survivors filled with true Yirat Shomayim, yet with total naiveté about functioning in the real world, and dominated by an insular coercive myopic community—exceedingly pious on the surface, but as mentioned by others in some previous posts, blindly devoted to rote group think and a narrow agenda—my spiritual journey is the exact reverse of a Baal Teshuva.

Discovering that there was a wholesome Jewish world outside the pale, with Conservative and Reform synagogues filled with decent people who were there completely by choice was a huge shock! Unbelievably to my surprise, even though men and women sat together it was not the bacchanalian orgy I had been led to expect, but instead respectfully engaged members davening.

In my personal view, Baal Teshuva represent the purest level of genuine Jewish commitment from the heart. Do not let yourself get tethered to the conformity of ossified organized orthodoxy, rather revel in your individuality and challenge the stagnant status quo. As Rabbi Jacobson so eloquently pointed out, it is you who will be the future ambassadors to revitalize, enlighten and elevate Am Yisroel.

Hezakiah Levinson
7 years ago

I always found it absurd that so many chose to engage their mouth instead of their ahavas Yisroel when dealing with a fellow Jew that might not be up to their standards,ignoring Hashem’s standards.While being raised Reform,I was far from being Orthodox, but attended services aboard ship since the carrier I was on had Chaplains for all the faiths if I wasn’t on watch or other duty.Sometimes I would literally be half covered in grease being that I worked in the machinery rooms. Appearance was more important than appearance,if you get my drift.Back in the 70’s I was on leave from the military visiting home.Those familiar with a traveling military person knows we flew standby with a bag we could carry on instead of having anything that would be considered “luggage”.That way you didn’t lose your things hoping they were at the airport when you finally got to where you were going.

Since I was home,a rare occasion since I was stationed on the West coast and home was Buffalo,NY, I wanted to attend the Reform synagogue where I was bar mitzvah.Since I hadn’t planned to be anywhere fancy,I had only packed my casual “civies”.When I went to enter I was stopped by an usher in the foyer that told me I couldn’t come in since I didn’t have on a suit. I told him I was on leave from the Navy and didn’t have my dress uniform with me, but he decided to be a wiseguy and told me maybe I should have thought about it.Another usher came and told me I had to leave,so I left without attending Shabbos services.I thought would they turn away a poor man that did couldn’t afford a suit? Did fashion become more important than prayer? That was also the last time I attended ANY service anywhere for over twenty years.

At age forty-four,I started talking to a lady in an online theological chatroom on AOL.After a while,I told her why I was so anti-religion and she told me not all were like that.She invited to visit for Passover to see and meet the people she was talking about.There were five Orthodox synagogues walking distance from her place.Invitations to meals and shirs came from all directions the month I stayed here. It was enough to make me become ba’al t’shuva and hit the books like a starving man hits a free meal. I moved here two months later and married that lady.That was nineteen years ago this July 5.B’H

7 years ago

Interestingly, I have had a similar experience to that of the writer. Being a divorc’e in an Orthodox community creates a similar response by the community and the Rabbi. Once you aren’t married, the men are included/invited, and the women forgotten. I don’t get invited, no one calls to offer me support, to ask why I’m not in shul, and to make matters worse, my ex has taken over the shul that was mine first. I was active at the shul for 20 years, taught classes as a volunteer, planned dinners etc… Now my ex is on the board, donates a ton of money, and he is popular with the members and the Rabbi, and I am isolated and forgotten. People are certainly disappointing. I can relate to the writer in many ways.

7 years ago

I forgot to add that I fed hundreds of people in my house for Shabbos and chagim. Those people! Where are they now? They sided, and didn’t choose me.

Bubbe Q
7 years ago

Tried to warn you. Your sister wouldn’t let me.

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