The Baal Teshuva survival guide

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Becoming Orthodox

baal teshuva survival guideThe cover of The Baal Teshuva Survival Guide, (Rossi Publications)  a handbook to making it as a newly-minted Orthodox Jew, depicts a life preserver being tossed over a body of water.

Get it?

It’s a really clever way of showing what’s inside the book. You, the reader, are the baal teshuva — the person who’s drowning in the ocean of Orthodox Judaism. This book is your life preserver. If you read the book, it will help you float.

It’s true that Orthodox Judaism has a lot in common with a large body
of water. It’s huge, it’s inhabited by a zillion organisms of every
conceivable size and shape and opinion, and there are very few road
maps. And, like a really smart and accomplished oceanographer, The
Baal Teshuva Survival Guide
contains a lot of information.
Choosing a rabbi, fitting in with a community of Orthodox people who
are notoriously secluded and sometimes unwelcoming, how to absorb
entire new arenas of Jewish law that you never knew existed.

The thing is — the water on the cover doesn’t have any splashes.

If someone throws you a life preserver, chances are you’re drowning.
If the water is calm, sedate, unmoving — well, either you’re floating
peacefully, or you’re already dead.

The Baal Teshuva Survival Guide is actually an excellent book.
It’s informative, well-organized, and packed full of useful facts and
stories — and it is packed full, with more than 400 pages of
articles. Most of them are shorter than a page or two, and easily
digestible. Lisa Aiken, Ph.D., both a clinical psychologist and
accomplished author, takes on both the recent phenomenon of the baal
teshuva explosion, as well as the idea itself of being a returnee to
the faith.

The problem is, the stories in the Guide are more anecdotal and
less in the how-to vein. It’s not a guide to becoming a baal teshuva
at all — it’s a guide for, once you’ve already taken on all the
burdens and onuses of Orthodox Judaism, settling into your new
lifestyle. More passionate than dogmatic, the book pursues the
why and the who and the where much more actively
than the how. While the title of this book might lead someone
to purchase it to learn about becoming more observant, and guiding
them through a difficult, intense and life-changing process, step by
step, this feels like it’s written to inspire people to tug a friend’s
sleeve and say, “Hey — this sounds so much like me!”

As an anthropological study, though, Aiken’s study is excellent. It’s
both grand in scope and thorough. Non-observant spouses, dating and
marriage, and even the phenomenon of “Too Much, Too Fast” — in which
newly Orthodox devotees overdose on Judaism, and then fry out — are
covered in remarkable detail, and written from the point of view of
someone who clearly knows what she’s talking about.

And, though the book clearly has an agenda (duh, it’s written by
Orthodox Jews) it presents the motivations, feelings, and life
situations of typical and non-typical baalei teshuva in explanations
that are both clear and encyclopedic.

The guide even deals with issues, the ones we all know are there, in a
clean and well-intentioned way. Take its section on depression, for
instance. Anyone who’s ever spent time in a synagogue with more than
one baal teshuva knows that there are a lot of people who are
attracted to religion because they’re depressed.

In our synagogue, the common reaction had always been to stay far away
from those people until either (A) they made their kitchen kosher,
invited us all over for a meal, and their food is really really good,
or (B) they flipped out and never come back to the synagogue again.

This book, fortunately, takes a perspective that’s at once refreshing
and non-judgmental. In a section called “Pre-Teshuva Depression,”
Aiken addresses the idea that being religious will solve all a
person’s problems — it won’t, of course, she says. “A person who
believes that keeping Torah is the right thing to do may give up
familiar sources of happiness and pleasure without having
replacements,” Aiken writes. “They stop going to discos, parties, to
the beach, and hanging out with the opposite sex. They stop wearing
sexy clothes, going to the health club (not that there is anything
wrong with exercising, they just tend not to make time for it).”

All told, Aiken has an exemplary understanding of the baal teshuva
lifestyle — its stigmas, its problems, and its strengths. The
information that’s presented here is superb.

The only issue is, the way it’s presented isn’t really a guide to
anything. Maybe the problem is ours. We’re so used to “Judaism for
Dummies”-type books that we want all the answers to be quick ones —
even answers to Big Theological Questions like God’s existence. Jewish
organizations like Aish HaTorah and ArtScroll have made things as
complicated as expressing the inalienable concept of Oneness of the
Lord as simple as a colored chart and an easy-to-follow prayer script.

The Baal Teshuva Survival Guide is a great book for anyone
who’s already observant, for anyone who’s close to someone who’s
becoming observant, or anyone with any degree of interest in the baal
teshuva phenomenon. For someone who’s just jumping into the lifestyle,
though, it might be — like the baal teshuva lifestyle itself — too
much, too fast.

Matthue Roth is a baal teshuva who’s gone through the whole crazy
thing himself. He wrote about his own experience in a book called Yom
Kippur a Go-Go.
It’s really good. Promise.