THE SOCIETY FOR THE BETTERMENT OF MANKIND

[Obiwan]

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

BARUCH ATA ADONAI

I got to be Dave's girlfriend by default. I mean, he would not waste his time with a woman in a million years. His greatest regret is that he wasn't born Jewish and he's dedicated his life to becoming the first Gentile rabbi. But since I hang around him, everyone thinks we're a couple.
We met in our Principles of Theology class. There's no assigned seating in the sloping lecture hall, so after half a semester of sitting behind him and not being able to concentrate, I decided to make the bold move of taking the seat next to him.
I don't think he noticed me for the first week since the topic was the Hebrew and Greek names for God and he took pages and pages of notes. Finally, one day after class, I just turned to him and said hi.

 

[Obiwan]

Then we started talking after every class about whatever had been discussed in the lecture although, granted, he did most of the speaking since he was the one who had the opinions.
Sometimes I honestly think he just likes me for my name, Ellen Waller, since El is one of those names for God. (That's his blasphemous streak, though, since the ancient Hebrews were terrified to even say the name of God never mind casually call their friends "Lord", even in jest.)
Right now, in Principles of Theology II, we're in the book of Leviticus covering the ritual sacrifices and I'm getting nothing out of it but Dave loves it. He takes notes with a fanatical glint in his eyes as if he's on the verge of building an alter right there, slaughtering a goat, and making an offering.
"Hey Dave!" I slip into the seat beside him.

 

[Obiwan]

"El," he looks up briefly from his leather-bound Bible.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Seeing how many sacrifices Joshua offered."
"Good," I nod. I've learned to take everything Dave says as casually as if it's a comment about the weather.
"I was reading more about the sacrificial system last night in the library," says Dave. "I really don't think we're covering it adequately in class."
"But why even worry about it," I say. "We don't have to make animal sacrifices anymore because Christ is our ultimate sacrifice."
I'm rocking the boat, I know. Dave lives and breathes the Old Testament. But I've got to let him know I'm capable of analytical thought.
"I'm going to do a study into my genealogy." He hasn't even heard me he's so busy flipping through his Bible. "I'm sure I've got Levitical blood."

 

[Obiwan]

I paraphrase the apostle Paul, "Don't waste your time with vain genealogies." Waste your time with me.
It really is hard getting his attention so I continue, "I'm going to study into my genealogy and see if I'm Catholic because I want to be a nun."
"Really?" he looks up from his Bible like he thinks I'm serious.
"Yeah, a life of celibacy appeals to me."
"Me too." He returns to the Bible.
After class I ask him what he's doing this weekend.
"Probably working on my bike," he says. His motorcycle is his only interest outside of theology.
"Really?" I project maximum enthusiasm and interest into the word.
"Yeah, I've got to replace the shocks." Dave is carefully putting his Bible into his Mediterranean satchel. An import from the Holy Land.
"Wow, that sounds like fun." Not an ounce of sarcasm in my voice.

 

[Obiwan]

"Wanna help?" he says.
"Yeah, I'd love to."
"How about Sunday afternoon? I'll be in the parking lot."
Dave keeps the Sabbath instead of Sunday.
"Maybe we can go for a ride too." This comment of his own free volition. It gives me hope.
"Shabbat Shalom," I say getting up to go to my next class. Dave deliberately didn't schedule any classes for Friday afternoon so that he could prepare for the Sabbath.
"Hey El!" he says. "Yeah?" I turn back.
"Ummm, I need a woman."
My heart hurdles.
"It's like, I haven't been keeping the Sabbath properly because I don't have a woman to light the candles."
Why should I have thought it would have been anything else?
"You want me to light candles?" I say.
"Yeah."
"OK," I say. "When should I come over?"

 

[Obiwan]

"Sun sets at 6:32 and it's got to be done eighteen minutes before sundown. Come over at 6:00."
I exit the lecture hall and make my way across the common, my heart pounding, a dazed but happy look on my face.
The common is a rose brick piazza with white metal tables and chairs and it reminds me of something you might see in the middle of an Italian village. On a reasonably warm day like today, students outnumber the ants ten-to-one, most of them with tons of books that remain unopened while they catch up on their quota of social interaction.

 

[Obiwan]

Most students at Union are business majors, and even before I met Dave I was never much into business, so consequently when I look around I only know one girl who was a roommate my freshman year. I slip on my sunglasses to avoid eye-contact with anyone and head for my next class.
At dinner I see Dave in the dining hall sitting surrounded by girls, all staring at him and laughing everytime he says something funny. He's got quite the following mainly because of his wavy blond hair and his theological intensity that's often taken personally by women looking for a sign that he likes them.
I'm at my worst when he's with other girls so I go and sit with Ted Stevents, who rumour has it, likes me. It's reassuring to talk to someone who treats every word I say as revealed knowledge.

 

[Obiwan]

After dinner I go back to the dorm and to the reasonably messy room that I share with Judith, my roommate and best friend, who is a jazz fanatic and composes music for the piano. Every morning we wake up to the radio set on a jazz station and for the rest of the day I've got Wynton Marsalis's trumpet solos running through my head. To add to the impact, she has a life-sized poster of Harry Connick Jr. on her side of the room.
I've never kept a Sabbath before so I don't know what to wear and Judith walks in when I'm trying on the tenth outfit.
"Where're you going?" she says.
"To keep the Sabbath."
"Oh." She understands my unorthodox relationship with Dave.
"What are you doing tonight?" I ask.

 

[Obiwan]

"Tom and I are going to a movie." She says it as if Tom is taking her to watch pigs mud-wrestle.
"What's the matter?" I ask. I've finally settled on a navy blue sweater and a black skirt.
"I dunno," she says listlessly. "It's like there are so many other things we could do."
I run a brush through my long brown hair. Judith and I are often mistaken for sisters, with our dark hair and pale skin.
"What do you want to do?"
"I want to go to New Orleans."
We're in Ontario.
When I arrive at his dorm, Dave has set up two candles in the lounge and is wearing a muted woven shirt that makes me think of an Israeli shepherd boy.
"So what do Jews do when there are no women to light the candles," I say.

 

[Obiwan]

"Oh, a man can light a candle. But it's better if a woman does it. More traditional."
I'm wondering why it's taken him this long to ask me. But Dave's not a man who operates on an obvious schedule. Other couples start going out and after a couple of months are doing everything together. Dave, he sort of moves according to the Spirit.
"Do you have something for your head?" he asks.
"What?"
"Your head has to be covered. Just a sec." He disappears through the door into the bedroom and comes back with a bandanna. "Here. Use this."
He looks at his watch.
"OK. We've got ten minutes. When I tell you, you're going to light the candles and then say, `Baruch Ata Adonai, Elohenu Melech ha-olam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Shabbat.'"

 

[Obiwan]

"What?!"
"It means Blessed art Thou, O Lord, our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us in His commandments and commended us to light the Sabbath light."
"How'm I going to remember all that?" I say.
"I think I've got it written down somewhere." He opens a messy notebook that has been sitting on the floor and starts pushing papers around.
"Here." He hands me a torn half-sheet of paper that has Hebrew writing and the translation.
At exactly 6:14, Dave gives me a box of matches and we both stand up. Since I'm the type of person who has difficulty starting a fire with a woodpile and container of kerosene, it isn't until 6:15 and after four matches that the candles are lit.

 

[Obiwan]

"Baruch Ata Adonai," I read.
"Wave your hands," Dave interrupts me.
I look blank.
"Wave your hands over the candles."
"Elohenu Melech ha-olam," I say, trying to read and move my hands at the same time. I nearly set the piece of paper on fire.
"Asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Shabbat."
"OK, cover your eyes with your hands, then uncover them and look at the candles."
I cover my eyes, then uncover them.
"Amen," says Dave.
"Amen," I say.
For some reason we stay standing. The solemnity of the ceremony is over, I sense, so I ask a question I've been wondering about for awhile.
"Hey, Dave," I say. "What do you think of traditional Christianity?" If your boyfriend were an accountant this would be a weird question, but you've got to understand that Dave thrives on this type of thing.

 

[Obiwan]

"There's a lot of people with a lot of questions," he says nodding his head as if, yes, that's a valid inquiry. "It satisfies some people."
"Would it satisfy you?"
"Probably not." He smiles. "Too much New Testament."
"Why don't you believe the New Testament?"
"It's not that I don't believe it," he says sitting down on one of the orange and brown fabric couches. The men's dorms are decorated in virile earth tones and the rugged wood and tweedy furniture gives you the feeling of being in a hunting lodge. "I'm sure there was a man named Jesus. It's just that I don't discard the Old Testament. I like Judaism. I like the Jews. I like their conviction and their endurance. Judaism is a lifestyle. Maybe if Christianity were more of a lifestyle it would appeal to me."

 

[Obiwan]

Siting down beside him I think about this because obviously Christianity can be a lifestyle. All you have to do is pick up a Baptist Bulletin or Campus Life to see that. Judaism must have been a calling for Dave otherwise I don't understand his total commitment.
Loving Dave is not a matter of impressing him with my strong convictions -- of which I seem to have none since all I have is journalism which is something I do, not feel -- it's a matter of trying to keep up with him. If anything, my commitment is to love boldly and to never regret it.
"Listen, Dave."
"Yeah?"
"Do you like me?" This question takes more courage to ask than you will ever know.
"Of course."

 

[Obiwan]

"No, I mean, do you like me? You could get anyone to light candles for you. Why'd you ask me?"
"`Cos I thought you'd want to do it."
"But am I important to you? Do you love me?"
"Sure I love you," says Dave sincerely, putting his arm around me. "You're my neighbour, aren't you?"
I sigh. I have an idea for the Almighty suggestion box. Make love feel good.