Deconstructing from Fundamentalism, Jewish Edition

Navigating Rosh Hashana as Formerly Hasidic Woman

“Rabbi B saw you walking out of the school building, and your skirt was too short.” The phone call was short and curt. “Make sure never to wear it again.”

I looked down at my lap in bewilderment. I hadn’t noticed. I was in the early weeks of pregnancy with my tenth child and sitting at my desk at work.

Was the growing fetus causing my skirt to pull up higher than the requisite four inches below my knees?

 It was possible. 

I sighed and promised myself never to wear that skirt again. 

I didn’t want to anger the Hasidic school administrators; more importantly, I didn’t want to anger G-D.

Deconstruction is a term used by ex-evangelicals who have left fundamentalist Christian groups. It refers to mentally, emotionally, and spiritually unraveling from the fundamentalist beliefs that one was raised with and constructing a new belief system.

This process can sometimes take years and involve both intellectual and emotional processing. It often includes grief at losing many old beliefs while also providing relief from unhelpful and sometimes harmful beliefs. 

For example, a common belief that runs through many fundamentalist groups is that G-d, Allah, Hashem, or whatever you refer to as the “Being in the Sky” knows all of your thoughts. This is taught to young children in these communities and is taken as fact. This particular belief can have many detrimental effects and induce ongoing anxiety as well as perfectionist tendencies. It can also cause one to feel like a bad person because, after all, every person, no matter how pious, will have thoughts contradicting their religious beliefs or practices. These effects can last decades and well into adulthood. 

You can remain attached to these beliefs even after losing your faith. It is important to process these beliefs by questioning the facts, as well as doing trauma work to heal from the detrimental effects these beliefs have had. Even years after leaving these beliefs can come back in a rush at times you least expect it, as they can be so profoundly ingrained after years of living in a fundamentalist group. 

In her Substack, The Anti-Fundamentalist, Tia Levings discusses deconstruction at length and provides detailed examples of what it can look like on a day-to-day basis. It can be as simple as questioning a belief or as complex as working with a trauma therapist for years to unravel those beliefs. 

As a person who has left a fundamentalist Jewish group, I have followed a similar process over the years and connected with many professionals, as well as others who have left fundamentalist groups, to drop the unhealthy beliefs that I carry from being raised with harmful fundamentalist beliefs. I have dropped many old beliefs, such as the role of women, direct punishment from G-d for wearing immodest clothing, and others. It took years of processing, but today, I don’t believe in the literal meaning of the Jewish Bible and lean towards the beliefs of many biblical scholars who say that the text of the Torah was a compilation of writers over hundreds of years and not handed to Moses on Mount Sinai, 50 days after the Jews left Eygpt as we were taught.

Leaving a fundamentalist Jewish group is different than leaving a fundamentalist Christian or even Muslim group. For one, Judaism is an ethnoreligious group, and my DNA will always announce that I am 100% Jewish irregardless of my beliefs. 

I will never be ex-Jewish. 

I also carry the unprocessed trauma of the Holocaust in my blood, being a granddaughter of four grandparents who survived the holocaust bereft of almost all of their families. Those numbers etched on my grandfather's arm have embedded in my psyche. 

Another factor is that my ancestors have been observant Jews for generations. The untold hours of Jewish prayers, the numerous mezuzahs placed on doors, and the Shabbat dinners eaten are a part of who I am. 

On a personal level, I appreciate some parts of Jewish practice. Most Jews are not fundamentalists, and I know that it is possible to be Jewish without carrying the extreme beliefs that I was raised with. I incorporate some of the practices into my life. At the same time, I continue to release the harmful beliefs, and uncoupling the two can become complicated. 

During my studies as an Interfaith Minister, I studied various Religions and felt most comfortable with Judaism as a general guide for my life. Today, I choose what feels right and never observe practices out of fear.

As the Jewish New Year starts and Rosh Hashana begins tonight, I have a brisket in the oven for our dinner tonight and a freshly baked Honey Cake sitting on the counter. I may drop in for services in my neighborhood at a local JCC or may not.

For years, I believed what I was taught about Rosh Hashana. I believed those who told me that it was a day of judgment and my entire life hung in the balance. I was warned not to nap on Rosh Hashana for fear of having a “sleepy” year, and on the holiday itself, I spent hours in the Synagogue in prayer, beseeching the Almighty for a good year. One year, as a teenager, I stood for the entire service, and didn’t eat a morsel until the entire 10-hour prayer service was over. 

The Libra sign, a scale, was invoked in our studies. Our teachers warned us that our good deeds would be put on the scale and balanced against our bad deeds and if our bad ones were heavier, we may not survive the year.

Today. I don’t believe in any of that. 

I have processed it and understand the fear and superstition that led those before me to believe in it. I also understand how fear of G-d gave the community's leadership power and control, as they regularly came up with new rules and stricter guidelines. 

But still I approach the holiday with gentleness, knowing that for decades, it was a time when the fundamentalist beliefs I was raised with reigned supreme. 

Tonight, I will likely light candles in honor of the holiday after a long break of not lighting candles, but I will not obsessively ensure that I am exactly on time, as I was required to do as a Hasidic woman. If I do go to services tonight, it will not be behind a wall, but rather, I will be an active participant, praying with a female Rabbi leading a short service followed by singing and food. 

I will also not wear a long black skirt, four inches below my knees. 

Deconstructing from fundamentalism is a lifelong process, and wherever you are in the process, what is most important is to be gentle with yourself and allow things to unfold. 

As survivors of fundamentalism, most of us have been through a lot of abuse, stress, and unimaginable strain, and being kind to ourselves in one of the most important ways we can hold ourselves though the process.