I'm a religious Jew, in a bit of a crisis of faith. I still pray three times a day, I still make shabbat and observe holidays, I even still learn Torah even though I don't really believe in it anymore, because I find being well read useful when I have to explain the times I do break the cultural norms to people. Orthodox Judaism in general has a lot of laws everywhere: what you wear, what you eat, what you put in your house, and a lot of prayer and blessings.
Modern orthodox communities of Jews are very weirdly selective about the things they're ok with modernizing and the things they still hold importance with: listening to secular music is fine, wearing modern clothing is fine, but if you play instruments on the sabbath you're shunned. There's something inherently disgustingly coercive about a society that will treat you like a stranger and disown you if you don't get married, let alone if you have a relationship with someone of the same sex. Every day it gets harder to accept myself living a life where I can't openly love the people I love, but there is also a structure and community that secular society doesn't really have. Part of the draws of acceptance is that the sense of community in religious spaces is built not just out of inclusivity (we have the same religion and values) but also exclusivity (we aren't like them) and this means that sometimes you're excluded.
I read this coming from a very different background (secular), but I've seen a lot of these issues around me too. Especially among people raised MO (the chasidish and litvish have similar problems, but frame them differently).
for what it's worth, 18forty has done several discussions on these themes, and they resonated with me: 18forty.org/rational (in particular, with Shmuel Phillips. Their discussions of OTD and mysticism are also very relevant.)
It's a lot easier to leave when you have another community to go to. That's why there's nothing wrong with "sneaking around" or living a separate private life while you build up relationships and friendships.
That's for sure true, and I'm also not sure if everything I want from a community is present elsewhere, at least all in one place. Anyway, it's hard to find a new community to live in when I'm still in college and don't yet have full time employment.
> a society that will treat you like a stranger and disown you if you don't get married, let alone if you have a relationship with someone of the same sex
How do you reconcile these within yourself?
My curiosity is about true spiritual practice - the alchemy inside your being.
Is your practice to humble yourself to the rules for example?
Or to follow them while knowing in your heart that they are limiting and possibly outdated?
Externally you could be taking the same actions. Internally it’s not the same.
I don't know how to reconcile them, and it's something I've been struggling to do for quite a while. Even when I was younger I didn't really believe, so going through the motions of spiritual practices I don't find particularly fulfilling to appease others is a familiar state of being. I sometimes find a nice feeling of belonging when I do these things, but that feeling is hard to maintain when my community hates my existence and would cast me out in a heartbeat if I was public about who I am.
I have given it some thought, but I don't really know of any communities of reform Jews, my impression is that reform Jews are less community oriented than modern orthodox communities. Which isn't necessarily bad, it's just different.
Modern orthodox communities of Jews are very weirdly selective about the things they're ok with modernizing and the things they still hold importance with: listening to secular music is fine, wearing modern clothing is fine, but if you play instruments on the sabbath you're shunned. There's something inherently disgustingly coercive about a society that will treat you like a stranger and disown you if you don't get married, let alone if you have a relationship with someone of the same sex. Every day it gets harder to accept myself living a life where I can't openly love the people I love, but there is also a structure and community that secular society doesn't really have. Part of the draws of acceptance is that the sense of community in religious spaces is built not just out of inclusivity (we have the same religion and values) but also exclusivity (we aren't like them) and this means that sometimes you're excluded.