Last night, I met a new friend for coffee at Starbucks. As we visited, another friend of mine came in the door. His name is Jon, and he had a friend with him. Jon introduced me to his friend, and I held out my hand to shake his.
He looked at my hand and just stood there. A slow, uncomfortable moment passed, and I finally withdrew my hand.
I was, admittedly, a little stunned.
Jon moved on to get coffee, and the man told me that he is Jewish, and he is not permitted to touch a woman who is not in his immediate family.
Oh.
I looked at my new friend, and I said, "That was odd." She agreed. She said he wasn't wearing the usual clothing of an Orthodox Jew. There was no way for either of us to know, until he told us, that he was Jewish.
The whole thing bothered me. I never had anyone refuse to shake my hand before. Knowing that it was the result of religion didn't really help. I felt inexplicably embarrassed, tense every time I thought about it. I didn't even understand my own reaction.
So, last night, before bed, I went to the Judaism discussion board on Beliefnet. I wrote a post about the incident and asked for verification about the Jewish restriction of handshaking.
One kind woman responded positively and explained the situation, referring me to this article. Two of the other women who responded suggested that I shouldn't shake hands with people I meet, that a smile is sufficient.
Yeah, I should change my general behavior and try to avoid physical contact of any kind with any human mammal because one just might adhere to some archaic religious practice of avoiding contact with a member of the opposite gender.
As I understand it, the idea is that men cannot be trusted to touch a woman (or see her hair, apparently), not a member of his family, even on the hand without becoming sexually attracted or aroused, an idea I find preposterous. Yes, there are men who are mentally stuck in their teenaged years and not able to control their own sexual feelings, even without touching a woman. But a mature adult male? I'm not convinced.
Although I typically maintain a spirit of understanding and compassion toward my fellow humans, even those who are practically drowning in religious doctrine I find untenable at best, I was annoyed by this experience, by this man's adherence to extreme religious ideals, by it affecting me. I'm not sure what the answer is. I'm told I shouldn't offer my hand anymore, just in case the person to whom I'm offering it has some religious reason to reject me and my attempt to connect.
On the other hand, he was the one with the issue, not me. He is the one attaching himself to a religious ideal I can only find nonsensical. I had no interest in him sexually, and I doubt he had any such interest in me. If he did, that's his problem to resolve in the confines of his own mind and body. I should not even need to know of his religious preferences.
That I'm reading The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins right now adds a context to this experience. Lately, I've been struggling with my own stance on how to cope with religious fundamentalists who insist on forcing their beliefs into my society, my government, my daily life.
I want to respect people. I don't want to force my own beliefs back on someone else.
At the same time, I think this man who can't seem to participate in polite society needs to either extract himself from it, maybe live in a strictly Hasidic Jewish community, or wear some sort of symbol that indicates to someone like me that he doesn't casually touch a woman.
To my own eyes, re-reading that, it seems an utterly ridiculous suggestion. Then again, so does refusing to shake someone's hand.
Copyright 2008 Melissa LaFavers