holy

I can't say it. That's what I was taught since I was a child and I can't say it, the name of God. I can't say it. I can translate it, but I can't say it unless it's the right time and place to say it. I say the shama when I wake up and before I go to sleep. Come by then, you'll hear it then. In fact, in Saturday school, we'd try to find places where the congregation was saying it twice when they shouldn't be and no, contrary to popular beliefs, it is not pronounced yehova, Jehova, or yiya. I can't say it though. Come to Shool and you'll hear it then, but you'll also see and hear a lot of things which would take a lifetime to understand, or a child's brain. I can't say it. I can say the translation of His name, will that work for you? Hashem. The word we use in substitution is Hashem, which means His name of the name, I forgot which, but I can't say it until it's the time and place to say it. I can't say it. Ask the Rabbi, maybe he's allowed to say it. No, we don't believe in Hell, but our punishment happens at Yom Kippor and in fasting if we fuck up before that. Like, if we drop the Torah, we have to fast for three months or make a lot of donations. Oy. Come to the synogogue with me and we can hear it together, the name, the word. There are many names and words and there are transliterations, but the Name is not spelled out in transliteration, because it's too holy and I can't say it and won't, until it's time to say it.  

Besides, why do you want to know. Yea, no shit you're an antropologist. Look it up on Youtube. Oh, yea, I guess they don't say it there either since it's too holy a word. You could talk to the cantor, the rabbi, or the many Hebrew teachers they have. Do that. I can't say it. Yes, but I'll know and I want my name to be written in the Book of Life for another year. Ask the Rabbi what that it too. I'm not a rabbi. But, rabbi means teacher and their job is to teach. Ask them to say it and see what they say. I can't say it. I don't know why the orthodox seperate the men and the women in their services or why the Talluses are worn. When putting on the Tallus, we say the word. Why not listen to the Rabbi put on his Tallus, then you can hear the word.  

You sure do have a lot of questions. Have you read The Jewish Book of Whys? Start there. It'll answer a lot of questions and it's pretty reasonable especially if you get it used. You don't want to write about what's already been written about, you want to write about something new. Oy veh. Look, go to a Kibutz in Israel, if it's safe, and ask them anything. Maybe they'll use His name. Oy. But, I can't say it until it's time to say it. Why? Why ask me? Why is the sky blue? That's why I can't say His name aloud, because it's morally wrong to use His name outside of prayer. Because it's hold. Think of using the Host for wine for a soda at night. It has a specific function and should only be used for that function. It's the same thing with His name. Come before our meals, you'll hear it before we eat when we say the Hamotze and the Kaddish. Do it then. There is no Pope figure in Judiasm. There used to be kings and sacrifices and all that, but that's done for. We still learn from the Torah, though. It teaches and we study it in Hebrew since a lot is lost in translation. Take the word nephesh. There's multiple meanings of this word and none of them are correctly translated into English. Then, there's our Yiddish phrases like Oy Veh and the Yiddish curses like, “Grow like an onion, with you head in the ground and your feet in the sky”. Or “Go shit in the ocean”. Because things are lost in translation. Hell, we don't even spell His name in English but use a dash for fear of punishment. Some things don't translate or take thought to translate, like in the Hagada, it says He is “aweful,” not awful, but full of awe.  

The reform use English and have women Rabbis, but conservative and Orthodox don't. Things change and the Jews recognize that, but care about tradition, sometimes. Forget about the oranges on the cedar plates, there's a reason for that, but it's complicated. Think, why do Americans abbreviate all correct as O.K.? Doesn't make any bleeping sense. But, they do. We feel His name is holy and use it only when necessary, like in synogogues, when saying prayers, when . . . you aren't getting it. What do you need to finish your thesis, book, or whatever the fuck it is you're working on? You want to know something about Judiasm which hasn't been published before. Good luck. We're an old religion and everyone from every sect of life has tried studying us, destroying us, copying from us, stealing from us and I won't say it. Go ask a rabbi.  

Or go to an orthodox community where they say prayers before they do anything or maybe try the ultra orthodox where married women have to shave their heads so they'll only be pretty to their idiot husbands. Go there. Before they get up, they say the Shama, before they shower, before they dress, hell, maybe they say a blessing before they take a shit. Who knows or cares. They have their community with their rules and we have our community with our rules. Everyone has their bit of mishigos and I won't say it. I won't say it until it's the right time and place to say it. Oy. Now, in certain songs where the rhythm would get fucked up if we said Hashem, we say adoshem, but that's the most you'll get out of me until it's time for whatever the next important prayer is, so you'll have to wait to hear this word until that time, comprenda? Good. So, tell me, what school you go to? That's good. You're a senior? Of course, if you're working on your thesis, you must be a senior. Meshugena and meshegas. What you gonna do after you graduate, go home and live with your parents? Graduate school? Then what? Teach? Makes sense.  

Listen, you in luck. I gotta start preparing dinner before my spouse and kids get home so I gotta go wash my hands and prepare the food the man already declaired as kosher. OU, not K. Never trusted K, but OU is the Union of Orthodox Rabbis and we're not orthodox, but trust OU. Why isn't it UO, how the fuck should I know? Ask a rabbi. So, I turned on the faucet, put liquid soap on my hands, rubbed it and said, “Baruch atah . . . .”