I was embarrassed and confused by my tears, although I knew that only a sociopath could remain cold in face of these dead words of an entire people. But they hadn't ever felt like my words, despite my membership in the people. The Judaism I knew talked about the Torah but never seemed to live it, or make any attempt to teach it to me. My strongest memory of Hebrew School was the rabbi instructing me to feed matzah meal to my goldfish on Passover even though this would kill poor Golda, who was clearly Jewish and therefore bound by our laws. My mother pointed out that God probably didn't mind if other species ate treyf and, all things considered, would prefer that the fish remain alive until Shavuot.
(To be continued.)