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Rosh Hashana
September 25, 2004
I can claim to be Jewish, but only marginally so. My great great (unsure of how many "greats") grandmother was a Spanish Jew who converted to Catholicism to avoid persecution. According to my great uncle, she dropped both her first and middle Jewish names, trading them in for the title of Mary Elizabeth Lazarus.
Evidently, Mary Elizabeth understood the power of names and had a knack for the symbolic. Who would question the Virgin Queen Mother who is called forth from the dead? I certainly wouldn't! The woman had chutzpah. Whether she celebrated Yom Kippur or Easter is of little interest to me. Her conversion paved a path of survival for which I am obviously grateful.
Perhaps Great Great (Great?) Grandmother Lazarus is only a myth - but like all myths, she sings a song that only my heart can decipher. I know there is Anadalusian blood in my veins – why else would I have glommed onto belly dancing the way that I have? My cd collection brims with the music of Alabina, Noa, and Stellamara. I love and admire the Jewish traditions. Surely I was zapped with a delayed yet potent dose of the mysterious Gypsy Genes.
So, I am marginally Jewish, which is why I am a bit confused and think today is Rosh Hashana instead of Yom Kippur. I plea for penance on this holiest of Jewish holy days, as I choose to focus on new beginnings and forgiveness, rather than the subject of judgment and denial.
Rosh Hashanna is Jewish New Year's Day, only you won't see anyone popping the cork on a bottle of champagne and Times Square will be noticeably vacant. It is the celebration of creative renewal, which is precisely why I hold this holiday in my marginally Jewish and deeply creative heart. Marking a period of 10 days of forgiveness, I like to think the Jews understand it takes more than a day to wash the slate clean and see anew with clear eyes.
In preparation for God's annual judgment on Yom Kippur, believers engage in an internal review. If necessary, they will go personally to those they have slighted, and ask their forgiveness. The fate of the coming year hangs in a karmic balance. We forgive to move forward, and like Mary Elizabeth, we engage in the practice of converting the past to survive.
Another way of releasing one's burdens is through Tashlich, which involves walking down to a river and casting a year's worth of sorrow into the water. I envision Mary Elizabeth walking down to the river's edge. In her pockets she carries the burdens of her heart, the weight of leaving a part of her identity behind among them. I wonder what it was like to take such a powerful tradition and send it sailing, then sinking into the water.
It wasn't until I created an online advent calendar seven years ago that I became aware of her story. Being an advocate for religious tolerance, I included Hannukah inside of my obviously Christmas-centered calendar. In a matter of days, my aunt called me to share the story of my Jewish heritage, which both pleased and annoyed me. Why hadn't my family rejoiced in their heritage? Why didn't my grandmother share this interesting story with us as she spooned her matzo ball soup into our bowls? Why was her name Juanita? And ... why did no one seem to question the fact that Juanita made MATZO BALL SOUP in the first place?
I owe it to my Great Uncle Jeff for uncovering the limited information my family possesses: One of my ancestors was a Spanish Jew who converted to Catholicism and took on the name of Mary Elizabeth. The rest is a mix of my projections and longing to bring her back from the dead and give life to her story.
Today I wonder, did Esther Ruth Lazarus walk down to the river one cold Rosh Hashanah morning – casting away a secret part of herself, to be forever forgiven, and forever forgotten?
Posted by susan at September 25, 2004 6:10 PM
Comments
I am a christian but always knew I had jewish heritage through the Dropsie family of Phila,Pa.
They were from the Iberian Pennisula, but Aaron Dropsie immigrated to the USA from Amsterdam, Holland. His daughter, Elizabeth married a Lazarus. I am decended from another daughter, Esther.
I don't know if any of this will help you.
Posted by: KATHLEEN SMITH at December 10, 2005 12:10 PM
