There is a young man currently studying at Ohr Somayach who
was formerly a captain in U.S. Army Intelligence. He was
brought up in New Jersey in a home that was, in his words,
"Egalitarian Reform Conservation Jewish. In short, anything
but Orthodox."
One Friday night he was at our house for the meal and I asked
him what it was that got him, an accomplished "anything-but-
Orthodox" Jew, interested in Yiddishkeit. He told us a
fascinating story, the end of which has not yet been written,
since his parents, following in their son's footsteps, are
now beginning to discover the beauty of Torah Judaism...
*
Barry was attending a small liberal arts school in New
Jersey, more or less dividing his time between the swim team,
classes, and late- night partying. He shared a rather large
townhouse with the other members of his fraternity and never
experienced any discrimination, though there was only one
other Jewish member.
One Friday night, during an especially raucous party, Barry
found himself lying on the floor of the living room in front
of the roaring fire, hovering somewhere between inebriation
and unconsciousness. Through the mists he heard his frat
brother saying, "Yo, Barry, look at this. Look what I
found."
Barry opened his bleary eyes and made out his friend Doug
holding out a bunch of rolled-up little papers, some with
black writing on the outside and partially torn. From some
dim memory he recognized them as mezuzos and he said,
"Where'd you get those, Doug?"
"I found 'em hanging on the doorposts, man. I ripped 'em all
off. You know what they are?"
"Yeah, man. They're a Jewish religious thing. You shouldn't
have ripped them off. That's not cool."
"Oh. Right. You want them, Barry?"
"Yeah, give 'em to me. I'll put them back up."
"You really want them?" teased Doug, holding them out to
Barry, but just out of his reach.
"Yeah, give 'em to me, man. Stop playing around."
"Well, if you want them, take them. Here!" And Doug tossed
the mezuzos straight into the fire.
Barry looked on in horror. There was nothing he could do. The
mezuzos were consumed by the fire in an instant.
Although he had never even noticed that the house had
mezuzos on the doors, and there was no logical reason
that their destruction should bother him, he felt violated,
as though he had been attacked in a very personal way.
Still not entirely sure why, he picked himself up off the
floor and made his way to the door crying. He walked out the
door and kept walking for a very long time.
Something hidden deep inside him had been touched, and he
wanted to know what it was. If he could feel so strongly
about an obscure religious item, then he had better find out
what this item represented and why it was able to exert such
an influence on him, a secular `anything-but-Orthodox'
Jew.
