Masked identity

Last night and today, Jews all around the world celebrated the holiday of Purim, the one Jewish holiday on which a Jew is supposed to get so drunk that they can't tell the difference between the name of Haman (the villain) or Mordachai (the hero).

Other than public drunkenness, though, the story of Purim covers the identity crisis of a woman who becomes queen of a kingdom in which the Jews have been threatened by a wicked man (Haman). This queen happens to be a Jew herself, and is forced to make some serious decisions that decide the future of her people.

On Friday night, at temple, my Rabbi discussed the idea of masks, and how Queen Esther had to wear several different masks, from those in front of her husband, the king, and in front of her own people, her fellow Jews. The idea of masks got me thinking of my own life, and how this story, which sounds distant and ancient, is actually very close to our hearts today.

As a high school teenager in America, I am forced to wear several different masks. I have to be one person in the classroom, another in the temple, a third in the newspaper room. This multi-faced beast becomes a web, entangling the many facets of what makes an individual who they truly are. It also becomes difficult, at times, to tell which face you are looking at, when looking upon another person. Are you seeing the true person, or merely a persona, overshadowing the truth bellow? When that person acts in a pompous and arrogant manner, are they truly feeling this way? Or is that a defense mechanism against possible underlying insecurity? When someone is cruel and insulting, is that a way for that person to head off a possible attack, one that they may be anticipating, possibly erroneously?

At times, this web of identities can even ensnare the person himself, not allowing the wearer of the masks to get a glimpse of who and what they are, at their deepest and most honest form. It is in these situations that we, as teenagers, are faced with the difficulties of trying to figure out who we are. The pressure that this can cause, most specifically on teenagers, is immense, as identity is one of the most important aspects of a thriving individual.

This all taken into account, we, as human beings, have an obligation to understand the predicament of our peers. We have no business judging others, when we ourselves are all too incapable of figuring out who we really and truly are. Therefore, it is important for us to delay overly cruel judgement until we have a full understanding of who a person truly is. Sometimes people will never have a full understanding of the other people they interact with. This being the case, it is best to not judge too cruelly upon your fellow man, as you never know how true the persona you are interacting with is to the true identity of a person.

On the flip side of that coin, however, is the situations in which people can get a fair and accurate view of who a person is, at their core. When these flashes of insight occur, and you are able to see who someone is really, at their most holy self, those are the times that must be cherished and praised, for that interaction is in the image of God. When human beings interact on a holy and meaningful level, being able to be their honest selves, it is a situation that accurately personifies the amazing works of God.

So I ask everyone not necessarily to take off the masks, but at the very least, to show glimpses of the person under them, as well as to have compassion for those who may struggle to see the difference between what is a mask, and what is real. For all of those who may struggle to find who the really are, it is important for those who know to have compassion. And for those who think they know, you may be. But you could be wrong. You may be someone completely different. Find out for yourself.

Five Rings

From torches to brooms, skis to half pipes, there is truly something for everyone at the Olympic Games. For a week the world's top athletes have been competing to bring home the top prize for the country, the payoff for, most often, years and years of practice, competition, and struggle.
One of the biggest, most valuable parts of the Olympics is the feeling of national pride that countries feel toward their team. It is hard not to smile when you think about the valiant work of American athletes like Lindsey Vonn and Shani Davis. Nothing brings a country together better than the thrill of seeing Apolo Anton Ohno shoot around competitors as he busts from fifth to first in his first heat.
This feeling of camaraderie is a vital part of why the Olympic games are so important to today's culture. In a world where Americans are constantly questioning their government, arguing within their nation, and disputing every act of legislature, it is immensely important to have the opportunity to band together for one common goal, one common pursuit. The competition simply gives us someone to focus all of our frustration and competitiveness toward.
Even as we speak, two of the most dominant hockey teams in the world are taking each other on, pitting the US versus their neighbors to the North and the hosts of these Olympic games. The intense media attention associated with these games is a great act of national competition.
The games may be for fun, but there is a lot more at stake than just a medal. The pride, of a nation is at stake. I for one, am excited to see who wins most.

Why didn't God post it on my Facebook?

I was supposed to be in Dallas this weekend. I was supposed to spend the weekend with friends from all over North America. I was supposed to elect the new leaders of my Jewish youth group.

None of these things got to happen howevever. On Thursday night, I found out that my flight was cancelled, do to snow, rain, and ice storms all across Texas. I was told by American Airlines that I would not be able to arrive in Texas until Saturday night, leaving me only 36 hours to be with my youth group, the people who I love more than anyone else. With some decision making by my parents and some introspection, it was decided that I would not pay almost $700 for 36 hours, and that instead I would stay home. As much as this decision was logical, it was most definitely not enjoyable, or an easy one to make.

Over the course of the weekend, I have considered why I didn't go to this event. I understand that nature caused the trip to be too trecherous, but why? Was God trying to tell me something?

My mother said many times that there were signs at play here. Maybe this was a sign of a bigger lesson or reasoning. God was trying to tell me something.

I questioned also if there were some hidden things I didn't know about the trip. Maybe if I would have gone, the airplane I was on would have crashed. Maybe I would have accidentally prevented someone being elected who would have been amazing at their job? Maybe I would have had an amazing weekend with a home friend if I had stayed (which I did)?

It is a giant mystery. I wish God was more clear, but who am I to question where God makes decisions? Who am I to even assume it is God who caused such a natural backlash? Who am I to decide what is and isn't good for me on a mystical level?

I have no answer for many of the questions I have posed tonight. All I know is that I attempted to make the best of a horrible situation, having as great a weekend as one could have without NFTY, and that I miss NFTY very much.

And I learned that sometimes it is ok to not know all the answers. Sometimes, someone is looking out for you, and you may never even know it.

Severe Injustice

The community in which we live is under attack. Attack from a serious issue, one that could cause serious detriment to our society as we know it. This problem is so intense, so severe, that it is driving people to do the unthinkable.

The injustice occurred just a few blocks away from my house, where I am currently typing. It was a Sunday morning, as I was driving home from teaching Sunday school. As I drove past the marquee for the Buffalo Grove theatre, I tried to see what movies were playing that week. The BG theatre shows second run movies at a ridiculously low cost. It was then, however, that I realized what was wrong. In the upper left corner of the sign, there was something different. Where it usually said $2 admission, it now read $5. This was horrifying. $5 for a second run movie? I think not!

The theatre has never been a pretty one. It is dingy, dark, and a little gross. The screens are small, and the bathrooms are unrivaled (not in a good way). I refuse to pay $5 to go to a movie theatre that isn't even a good one, to see movies months after they come out, when I could see them on the first run for just $2 more, in the comfort of a nice, soft chair.

The injustice is that I now have lost something very close to my heart. As a teenager, money is not always easy to come by in large quantities. It is often difficult to choose between going out with friends to a movie or buying dinner. With the BG theatre, I was able to do both. The inexpensive ticket allowed me to have my cake and eat it too, even in a somewhat less than satisfactory location.

Now I have lost that one place where I can spend my time, without spending a large sum of money. There is no place for a financially frugal teenager anymore. They have taken away our headquarters, our sanctuary.

Now where am I going to watch Legion?