Awaiting July
About a month ago, after years of internal debate and spiritual introspection, I decided to formally enroll in rabbinical school. As I sit and wait to begin my studies in July, I’ve found it increasingly difficult to remain present. I feel restless. All day, I’m engulfed in a whirlwind of mental simulations about how this seemingly monumental decision will shape my life. Don’t get me wrong, this is an opportunity that I am unbelievably excited for. Yet, I’d be lying if I said this excitement wasn’t also draped in anxiety and imposter syndrome and unanswerable questions.
How will seminary change me? How will it change how others perceive me? Will I be able to become the rabbi I aspire to be? What type of rabbi do I even aspire to be?
The last question being the subject of this self-indulgent blog post (I think that’s redundant). My hope is that this piece of writing will serve as a timestamp and record of my current spiritual state, something I can look back on throughout my time in seminary, and, if all goes well, later in life as a rabbi.
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I hope to be a rabbi who has found God on my own terms; someone who embraces doubt and abhors the comforts of absolute certainty.
I hope to be a rabbi constantly in search of beauty and accepting of wherever I find it; wholly in awe of the ever-changing and ineffable world around me.
I hope to be a kind and honest rabbi, both with those whom I will serve and with myself.
I hope to be a rabbi steadfast in my commitment to locating the elusive equilibrium between change and tradition.
I hope to be a rabbi dedicated to preserving and building community.
I hope to be a rabbi whose faith is outward-facing and whose care for others is universal, extending beyond the confines of synagogue and nation. To me, the only true and lasting form of liberation is collective, for we are all made B’tzelem Elohim (in the image of God).
I hope to be a rabbi wholeheartedly committed to radical love and truth-seeking. I must never morally justify injustice, always reject the rhetoric of dehumanization, and never succumb to the belief that my safety and freedom require the subjugation of another.
I hope to be a rabbi who always remains a “prisoner of hope,” faithful in the face of overwhelming despair and nihilistic sensibilities.