On becoming a Bat Mitzvah

By Maggie R

I’m standing here in front of you all as a Bat Mitzvah, affirming my faith.

Judaism has a rich history, with so many traditions and so much struggle. But what can I do with the traditions that I just can’t support?

Religion is meant to bring people together, but I think, unfortunately, what ends up

happening more of the time is that it separates people.

For example, the phrase “hate the sin, love the sinner” is often weaponized into something more like “hate the sin, passive-aggressively guilt-trip the sinner.”

Leviticus 19:18: “You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against members of

your people. Love your fellow [Israelite] as yourself: I am יהוה. “This verse, often translated as “love thy neighbor,” is arguably the most notable verse of the entire Torah.

And yet, it can be conveniently forgotten when dealing with people different from the

norm.

This is often reflected in modern times as well. That famous line of the Torah has

evolved into more of a checklist. “Love thy neighbor unless…”

Nowadays, it’s often not as black-and-white as the Torah says. Even back then, the

death penalty was avoided like the plague. But still, something about throwing rocks at someone until they die just doesn’t really feel like loving them for who they are, y’know?

It’s not unheard of for the Torah to contradict itself. What does come as sort of a surprise is that so many people will choose to overlook a verse so important to the spirit of Judaism simply to justify their hate.

But for me, the more important question is, how can I claim to be Jewish while

fundamentally disagreeing with these parts of it?

Well… I can’t. Not before I do some serious grappling with myself.

Ve’ahavta lereacha kamocha (or, love thy neighbor) is one of, if not the, most

important commandments in the Torah.

In the same way that pikuach nefesh supersedes tradition or even what is technically sin,

Ve’ahavta lereacha kamocha is something I care more about.

Something I think betters the world more.

I can’t fully disregard the less-than-stellar parts of Judaism. But I can make the

conscious decision to not care about it nearly as much as the things I’m supposed to care more about: Loving thy neighbor.