Issue link: https://viewer.e-digitaledition.com/i/895657
25th Annual Celebration Jewish Senior Life's Eight Over Eighty recognizes eight distinguished leaders in our community, all over the age of 80, who have demonstrated a lifetime of dedication to the Jewish value of Tikkun Olam - Repairing the World. CALL FOR NOMINATIONS SAVE THE DATE 25th Annual Eight Over Eighty Event Sunday, April 29, 2018 11:30am at Adat Shalom Synagogue FOR SPONSORSHIP INFORMATION PLEASE VISIT www.jslmi.org/events/eight-over-eighty FOR NOMINATION FORMS www.jslmi.org/events/eight-over-eighty or contact Beth Tryon at 248-592-5026 TTY #711 Btryon@jslmi.org Nominations will be accepted through January 7, 2018 I f Judaism were a talk radio pro- gram, these past High Holidays and Sukkot were me phoning in to finally comment on the show. "Hey guys, I'm Caitlyn, first-time caller, long-time listener …" "Hey, Caitlyn! Welcome to the show!" Judaism replied. I was raised in a house- hold that was at once quite Catholic and quite secu- lar, jumping through the Catholic sacrament hoops of communion, confession, confirmation, etc., but never believing. For whatever rea- son, since I was very young, it was always Judaism and Jewishness to which I felt connected. This year (Gregorian, not lunar), after much serious contemplation and consulting with more than a few Jews of authority (i.e. a couple rabbis, my most enthusiastic Jewish friends and some Israelis for good measure), I decided to begin my conversion pro- cess. I began the process in August, work- ing with Rabbi Arianna Gordon of Temple Israel, but I had begun delving deeper into the local Jewish commu- nity in Detroit months earlier. It was at an event for Pesach at the Detroit Institute of Arts that I first met Rabbi Dan Horwitz, whose organization, The Well, was hosting the event. I imme- diately liked what Rabbi Dan and The Well were doing, helping to foster inclusive Jewish community across demographics. Before I knew it, I was discussing converting over coffee with Rabbi Dan and within weeks I decided to take the plunge. As I eventually began the for- mal process, the High Holidays were quickly approaching. My first Rosh Hashanah was lovely, celebrated with the Jewish family that I nanny for. The following Friday morning, before Yom Kippur began, I saw a Facebook post from Rabbi Dan asking if anyone was around that could come help with a project. I commented immediately, happening to be in the area at the time. "It's messy. And involves opening a lot of cans of soda," he messaged me. And so I spent the better part of the morning and afternoon popping open hundreds — literally hundreds and hundreds — of cans of donated, expired Pepsi Fire (I didn't know it was a thing either), which would then be emptied, rinsed and constructed into the walls of The Well's sukkah in Downtown Detroit. We listened to music, chatted and methodically opened nearly 1,000 soda cans. Rabbi Dan posted a video of us using Facebook Live. After we fin- ished, my hands ached and my ham- strings burned from all the can-open- ing and squatting. It felt good. I was a part of something. I was doing what I believed in. That night, after Kol Nidre services, I got it. I got why Judaism clicked for me, why it had always appealed to me so much. "Judaism is about practice more than just belief !" I texted my enthusiastically Jewish friend Haley. I had struggled until then with my secular leanings and a perceived conflict between them and my lifelong attrac- tion to Judaism. How would I reconcile the two? Why did no one else, even my rabbi, seem concerned about this? "I can't just believe in something I don't actually believe in," I'd say. "I consider myself secular but I love so much about Judaism beyond just the God part. The social justice, the community, the progressivism, the tradition …" And everyone would nod their heads as if to say, "Right, yep. That's OK. That's it. That's good!" Last month, I got to see what my handiwork helped create: A sukkah of (Molson) Ice and (Pepsi) Fire — an attempt at an eco-friendly nod to Game of Thrones — standing tall and proud in the heart of Downtown Detroit in front of the Skillman Branch of the Detroit Public Library. I dwelled in the sukkah with Rabbi Dan and his teammates Matt and Avery, sharing coffee with whoever happened to stop by, sometimes answering questions about what exactly the sukkah was and what it represented, other times simply enjoying a morning cuppa with new acquaintances, snapping selfies with a plush toy lulav and etrog. I shared a lovely Shabbat dinner as well as a "Lunch and Learn" in the sukkah I helped to build. On Yom Kippur, mid-fast, my mother called me, near tears. She had seen the video Rabbi Dan posted the day before. "All your life you've wanted this, to be part of something bigger, a community, to do good. I think you finally found it with Judaism and I'm just so happy," she told me, crying. And she's right. While I didn't need Judaism to theoretically understand the importance of community and intention, it has undeniably helped me find and understand the practical importance of those things and so much more. As my first Sukkot came to an end, I could happily say, "I get it." Judaism is about practice. I'm so happy I finally decided to phone in. • Caitlyn Brennan is a young professional residing in Birmingham. 8 November 2 • 2017 jn views Caitlyn Brennan guest column My First Sukkot