Imagine for a second, that every single week you could pause your life for 24 hours. In those 24 hours, you could not use a phone, could not write, could not do homework, could not surf the internet, could not drive in a car, could not watch tv or listen to music, could not check your email, could not cook or bake, could not buy anything and could not worry about the rest of your week. But what could you do? You could hang out with your friends just talking, could finally take out those board games sitting up in the attic and play with you family, could practice your gymnastics, singing or football, could read, and could just sleep or relax.

The other day I opened my American history textbook and I found myself scoffing at the Millerites. They really waited thinking that Christ would come on October 22, 1844 and then even after that again and again they would just wait. Did they really think he would ever come back? And then I realized that I go to shul every Saturday, there is a whole list of foods that who knows why I can't eat, I miss school and do the strangest things like shaking plants in the air for holidays. A little ironic, huh?

One time someone asked me, “What happens if you break one of the rules of your religion?” I responded sarcastically, “A lightning bolt comes down from the sky and kills me.” Because really, what is going to happen?

In my old school, however, that would be a sort of honest response. Maybe not to that extent, but we used to have a class called halachah, literally translated to law. There we would learn that a heksher (the symbol on food telling if something follows the rules, such that it can be eaten by a Jew who keeps kosher) with an open torah (old testament) or an o with a u in it should be reliable, but a closed torah could mean the food was not truly kosher. I would sit bored to death in that class drawing pictures of my teacher as a sushi (What? He had a very distinctive face that made him entertaining to draw as random things). I mean really, who cares?
At my old school I was the one frustrated by the close mindedly religious nature of the school, but now I seem to be on the opposite side. I am thought of as the Jewy Jew. I sometimes am forced to fend off questions like, “why do you have to be so religious even when ____?”

I am not complaining. People are nice about being accepting and planning things that are not on Saturdays. But my point is that I definitely see many people who feel the same way I do about the Millerites. If anyone were to be presented with the choice between the story of scientific creation versus the biblical creation story, they would easily disprove the latter. Many claim God is not real.

Well, maybe? Probably? I certainly do not know. I do not think anyone truly could prove either direction. So why do I still believe in Judaism if I can say God is most likely not real? Well, because that’s not the point. The point of religion is not proving whether or not God exists. It is not arguing over a closed versus open torah heksher. It is not about the tiny details of whether you can do this or that. To me, it is about acceptance, and getting to the bottom of human goodness and human nature. Religion can pit people against one another as we see playing out today in the Middle East, or in legislation against homosexuality. But right next to the line in the Torah where it says a man cannot lie with a man, it says both to love your neighbor and a stranger as yourself. For me true religion is about rejecting the former, and addressing the world through the eyes of the latter.

Every week I pause my life for 24 hours. I take a break from electricity and work and just relax. It is both just an amazing, refreshing break, but is also something that I am proud of on a deeper level. I do not think it is a game of loopholes and harsh punishment like some seem to believe. Rather it is a time just be. A time to enjoy what is already created, and a time to refresh before stepping back into a crazy life.