katsuren

Pretty soon after we arrived on island, Yoni and I visited Shuri Castle. One of the most heralded tourist sites of Okinawa, Shuri Castle was the seat of the Ryuku monarchy and was originally built, it’s thought, in the early 14^th century. The most recent iteration of the castle was almost completely destroyed during WWII, and was rebuilt in the early 1990s. Sounds interesting, right? Unfortunately, Yoni and I didn’t think so.

At first, I wasn’t sure why we both had such a distinctly negative reaction to Shuri Castle. Maybe because we had to take our shoes off and carry them around in a plastic bag? No, that was just funny.

miraculously, we were both wearing matching socks that day!

We’ve talked about it a lot since then, and I’ve finally decided that it was a simple case of confused expectations. Yoni and I were expecting castle ruins (that’s how it had been described to us), and instead we were confronted with a completely reconstructed and vaguely theme-park-feeling Japanese castle, complete with roped-in walkways. It also occurred to both of us that most people on Okinawa haven’t spent time exploring ruins in Israel, and therefore don’t have the same expectations that we do when it comes to ancient sites.

All of that is to say – last weekend, we visited some castle ruins that were, actually, ruins! Katsuren Castle was home to many a local noble (Okinawa’s own Downton?), but it’s “golden age” was in the mid-15^th century when Lord Amawari lived there. There was an English pamphlet, but honestly, I didn’t absorb much of the history. It was a beautiful (if super hot) day, and the scenery was beautiful, so I wasn’t complaining.

My First Tattoo

Don't worry mom, I don't have a tattoo...  (yet?)

I am a Sailor.  Technically, I’m a Naval Officer, but just as Army officers and enlisted are often called soldiers, I take on my sailor community.  I have uniforms and all sorts of things that say I am a Sailor on them.  The Marine Corps issued me a card that told me that I was a Marine.  But it’s not true.  I’m a sailor.

So where’s my tattoo?

Marines and Sailors love their tattoos.  I draw your attention to Exhibit A.

Exhibit A:
Popeye the Sailor Man, the Lord didn't put those anchors on his arms.  That's ink-work.

Give a Marine a couple hundred bucks and 5 hours, and they will get at least one tattoo and maybe get another tattoo filled in with color.  (First tattoo will typically be the Eagle, Globe and Anchor).

Somehow my father made it through the military (Navy and Marine Corps) without any tattoos (that I know of).  So it has to be doable.  There have to be others in this camp.  But on a day like today, when the whole battalion went to a beach and peeled off layers of uniform, I ponder my military experience with out a tattoo.  Am I reinforcing my outsider status by resisting writing on my skin?  If I were a Marine and not a Chaplain, would I feel comfortable saying no?  As it is, I feel that I almost need to reaffirm my resistance every other day.

I have thought about it.  Sometimes around the battalion, we play the "Chaplain's First Tattoo" Game.  Where some of the Marines (EOD Marines are the most imaginative in this regard) come up with a plan for the Chaplain's First Tattoo.  But it ain't gonna happen.

I’m a day-school kid.  No tattoos because the Torah says so. 

There is a good argument that the tattoo injunction is based on a response to tattooing prevalent in idol-worshipping cults of the Ancient Near East.  Seeking “Taamei HaMitzvot” based on such academics seems dangerous to me, but I like engaging in the debate in my head.

I was never in love with the argument that we shouldn’t harm the bodies that God gave us.   (1) I love cake and fried foods.  By all doctors accounts I will continue to destroy my body with HDL, and it will be delicious.  (2) There are some really beautiful tattoos out there.  And some of them will still be meaningful and neat even after muscles deteriorate.

Further pushing against the tattoo injunction is the holocaust.  While many point to that as a reason not to get a tattoo, for me (and the main character at the beginning of Jane Yolen’s “The Devil’s Arithmetic”), it almost seems like a reason to get a tattoo.  To be connected.

But for me, the Torah will suffice.  Pain involved in another significant deterrent.  And when it all comes down to it, I’m pretty sure that my mother would kill me (at the start of a line of others who would do the same).

But, I'm not going to lie.  Sometimes, I think a Navy Officer’s Crest on my chest would be awesome….or a schooner.  A schooner would be awesome.  Very Navy.

milestones

I felt my first earthquake last night.

Don’t be confused – this is not the first earthquake I’ve experienced. We actually have earthquakes all the time in Okinawa. Somehow I just never seem to notice them. I even managed to sleep through the quake that hit NY shortly before Yoni and I moved out here.

So, as strange as this sounds, I was almost excited when, at 10:30 last night, the apartment started to shake. I was sitting alone in the living room (Yoni had gone to bed at 9:30 like an old man) when, all of a sudden, something wasn’t right. And then it clicked – oh, I thought, this must be what an earthquake feels like. Our apartment building is made of reinforced something-or-other due to this island’s propensity towards typhoons, so the shaking feeling wasn’t scary in any way. I didn’t even feel the need to lie down on the couch and cover my head with a pillow (as we are instructed to do in earthquake preparedness commercials on military tv). Instead, I sat back, watched the picture frames reverberate against the walls, and reveled in the first-time-iness of the experience. After it was over, I said the appropriate bracha, turned off the lights, and went to bed, happy to have checked another item off of my proverbial Okinawa bucket list.

(By the way, Yoni would never forgive me if I forgot to include the official earthquake specs – so here they are. It measured a 5.6 on the Richter scale, and the epicenter was off the eastern coast of Okinawa, in the Pacific Ocean, about 63 miles from where we live, at a depth of 5.3 miles. For more information, he says, you can go to earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/map)

Speaking of first time experiences – tomorrow night I’m going out to a line dancing bar for a friend’s birthday. Don’t know what that’s going to be like. I’m too busy bemoaning the fact that I don’t have any cowboy boots to wear to really think about it. I am, however, relatively certain they won’t be playing Yoya or Neshikah Turkit. If only… 

Things are Hectic: So what's important in life?

We had a change of command this week, and things have been a little hectic in the battalion as a result. 

The outgoing CO (commanding officer) loves golf.  While he is a truly committed Catholic, his other church (his Saturday and pretty much any other day he can get away with going church) is the golf course.  As his chaplain, it was my responsibility to support his religious practices; and I was only all too willing to facilitate this need. 

While many books have been written about golf as an almost Zen religious experience with nature, I tried to understand my CO’s practices in Jewish terms.  If the majority of golfers are like the old chassidim who would talk to the trees or otherwise commune with nature, my old CO embraces golf like a yekke approaches prayer - early, in the same location, never deviating from the set path, finished before lunch on Saturday.

I once asked him why he goes to Taiyo Golf Club – a club that is 20 minutes away from his home and a course that is notorious for eating golf balls and destroying the aspirations of young aspiring golfers, instead of the spacious beautiful Kadena Golf Course that is on his base?

Lesson to aspiring chaplains:  When a person finds the right place of worship, don’t pester them about where they like to pray. Just let them be.

“Kadena Sucks”.

I figured that maybe it’s the Marine in the old CO that would not allow him to appreciate beauty that might have emanated from an Air Force installation.  Until earlier today, I had never played golf at Kadena.  CO was right, Kadena sucks.

There’s a old military truism:

When the Marine Corps gets money to build a base,

never mind – Marine Corps never gets money.

When the Navy gets money to build a base,

they build a protected port and ask for more to build ships.

When the Army gets money to build a base,

they build strong protected forts and ask for more to build higher end protections.

When the Air Force gets money to build a base,

they build a golf course and ask for more to build a runway.

I only wish they could build a better golf course. And that’s all I have to say about that.                                                                                                                                  

seeing double

A couple of years ago, How I Met Your Mother had a reoccurring sub-plot about doppelgangers. I don’t remember the exact details, but I do remember that, throughout the season, Marshall, Lily, Barney, Ted and Robin were on the lookout for strangers who resembled their friends.

I see doppelgangers all the time. I first noticed it when Yoni and I arrived on island almost a year and a half ago; I would be driving on base or strolling in American Village and all of a sudden, across the parking lot, I’d think I recognized someone. And not someone I knew from Okinawa – not even someone I was particularly close with at home. Just someone I would recognize walking down the street in Forest Hills or on the Upper West Side.

In the beginning, I’d have to consciously remind myself, “no, that’s probably NOT so-and-so walking down the street. You live in Okinawa now.” After a while, though, I started to enjoy these doppelganger sightings. They make me smile, and bring a (slightly strange) sense of home to my daily life here. Today I saw the same doppelganger twice, and was (almost) fooled both times. Talk about the power of suggestion.

I don’t really have anything profound to say about this, except that obviously my brain works in mysterious and oftentimes amusing ways. Maybe my subconscious is trying to help me re-adjust to being in Okinawa after three weeks in the States? Regardless, I hope these sightings continue. They really do make me laugh every time. And who doesn’t need an unexpected laugh every once in a while? 

On Tuesday, the Rabbi Spoke Up

In a recent article in the New York Jewish Week (http://www.thejewishweek.com/features/first-person/west-side-far-east), my wife wrote a short summary of some of her experiences as a “Chaplain Spouse” in Okinawa and representative of the Jewish people to the military community of Okinawa having left the Jewish confines of New York City.

My turn.  Though I am not a New Yorker.

I came to New York immediately after attending the University of Maryland.  Having attended public high school in Virginia, UMD and its strong Jewish community was a haven from all that I hated about high school.  It's not that my high school years were any more filled with teenage angst than any other student, but mine had the added dimension of placing me in opposition to the Liberty Baptist contingent.

Just down the street from my home and on the way to school was a massive church.  With little crosses marking babies being killed in abortions and regular calls for dens of fornication to be closed, Liberty Baptist was in my mind exactly what you would expect from the spiritual off-spring of Jerry Falwell.   And my school had its fair share of church-goers who undoubtedly cared for my soul and were really worried about my impending damnation. 

They prayed at the pole before school.  They brought in lectures for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes (my sister and I formed the Fellowship of Jewish Athletes, it wasn't nearly as popular).  Sometimes they asked questions of the kind that Leora mentioned in her article, and sometimes really offensive statements were made in my general direction.  I was the only kid in school wearing a kippah, so it was bound to happen:  I chose to be recognized as a member of the Jewish people and thus its representative to the world.  In 1999, when Jerry declared that “the anti-Christ is alive today, and he’s a Male Jew” – that was not a very good week.  When the freshman class read Elie Wiesel’s Night, and one of the kids asked, “What exactly is a Jew?” I was the person that they brought in to answer questions.  

But then I went to Maryland.  I had Jewish friends and non-Jewish friends, and people who asked questions about my Judaism. But I was hardly the only visible Jewish person on campus.  Kal v’chomer (Talmudic for “so much the more so), when I entered rabbinical school.  For 6 years, I was in a Jewish cocoon. Then I became a khaki-butterfly.

Outranking the vast majority of the people on this island, I don’t get any directly insulting statements made in my direction.  I think people are pretty cool with the rabbi thing in the Marine Corps; the 9 or so Active Duty rabbis in the Navy/Marine Corps and the many who have served before me have built a legacy of being quality chaplains to all faiths and a significantly funnier group than say the Assemblies of God chaplains.

(Side note:  That is not to say Assemblies of God don’t make good chaplains, just that I believe that the Jewish chaplains tend to be funnier people.  Retired chaplain Ibn-Noel is a funny funny guy, and might just bring the Islamic chaplain community into contention for funniest group of chaplains – but he’s retired so I don’t know if he counts.)

What is interesting however is the assumption that I encountered that I would naturally be more – and excuse the terminology – fundamentalist than your average “low church” (not in the pejorative, but referring to non-liturgical/evangelical) Christians.  The assumption being – “Those Jews are so fundamental, that they didn’t even take the New Testament! That’s Old School.”

And they are correct, while their religion was doing new fangled things like not getting circumcised and eating bacon, my people were holding on to the Pentateuch like it was gospel.  (See, I told you we were funny.)

This came to a head this week.  On Tuesday, the Chaplain of the Marine Corps came to speak with all the chaplains about changes to DOD policy and the role of the Chaplain Corps in the near future, especially if DOMA is overturned.  The statements made in the meeting are closed, and I will not be sharing any of them.  However, the many discussions afterward are not confidential.

Some chaplains are really pro-same sex marriage.  Many are not.  This is a reality, and there are a lot of valid reasons on both sides.  Many of the negative camp were surprised to find me aligned with the pro-same sex marriage camp.  And of course, I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

Regardless of how I stand and have stood as a rabbi on that subject (that is within the Jewish community), I have always said that I have no problem with Protestants having Protestant same sex marriages; just as I have no problem with Catholics having hetero-sexual weddings.  If two gay Wicca gentlemen desire to wed, I would never dare stop them.  If two transgender-Athiest desire to tie the knot, what right do I have as a rabbi to tell them no?  If they desired to live their life as the Southern Baptist Convention would like them to live said life, they could easily become Southern Baptist.  They choose not to do so, and I make the same choice.  Therefore, I will not have the rules and rites of Jewish Marriage dictated to me by the SBC.

But the discussion opened up a whole new bag of questions that Leora doesn’t usually get (but maybe she will now that I write this on the blog):

“Rabbi, Haven’t you read Leviticus?”  Yes, in the original Hebrew, too!  And with the troupe, at that!  But I’m also drawn to Genesis where God says that its not good for a person to be alone.  And that God gave the human an ezer k’negdo.  A partner who challenges, completes and otherwise makes the human a better, holier person.  Just as I believe that Leora is that to me, I have no right to doubt that Steve isn't Adam's ezer k'negdo.  For me, if God created them for each other - than humanity has no place in over-ruling the Holy One Praised Be He.  If two humans are supposed to be together, than I want them to make God a part of their relationship.

“Rabbi, What about Sodom and Gomorrah?”  Where?  There is something about the English pronunciation of biblical names and cities that drives me up a wall.  But simply put, having read the story, I don’t believe they are punished for being gay.  I think it’s pretty clear that they are punished for being truly horrible people who want to rape strangers.

“Rabbi, do you perform gay marriages?”  I have never performed a gay marriage, and thus, my convictions have never been put to the test.  Honestly, I’ve never been asked to do any marriages.  I’ve been asked to perform one sometime in the future, and I would like to say yes – but because I am endorsed by an agency that includes a beautiful coalition of Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox rabbis, I am not authorized.  To tell the truth, I am most comfortable with the Conservative Movement Responsa allowing for “Commitment Ceremonies”.  It is more or less the same thing, but there are some legalistic issues related to Leviticus that make me happier when I call the act, “A Commitment Ceremony”.

Sometimes my rabbi beliefs are complicated and nuanced, and this has angered even some of my congregants.  But they are my beliefs and I'm still working to perfect them.

That said, these are my rabbi beliefs.  My chaplain beliefs are simpler.  Every Marine, every sailor – regardless of race, religious affiliation, or sexual preference - that walks into my office is a soul that I am challenged by God, by Torah, and by SECNAV 1730.1D to facilitate for, to fight for, and – above all – to care for.  I support my all of my Marines (even the ones who grew up in Liberty Baptist churches).

On this weekend, when we remember those who gave their lives in noble service: It is my prayer that as the military opens it’s doors to “Same Sex Domestic Partners” in the coming months, that all will feel comfortable in raising their hand and serving in the United States military.