My Roots

I've been thinking about where I came from a lot, lately. Tonight, at work, the Rabbi of one of our patients came in to say some prayers with him and his family and leave a blessing, and this reminded me of my own Jewish heritage. As all of you know, I am not Jewish, but even though my mother raised me as a Mormon, I have always felt close to my Jewish father's side.

My mom's family has been here in Arizona for at least 7 generations. They were among some of the first white settlers to come and set up permanent residence in the newly acquired territory, when its total population was about 2,000. They came as pioneers during the "exodus" from Nauvoo, Illinois, toward the Great Salt Lake valley, led by Brigham Young. Before coming west, they were among the earliest converts of the emerging sect of "Mormons," and some of my ancestors where relatives and personal friends of Joseph Smith, himself. Before the church began, many of my ancestors had lived in New England since the days of the pilgrims, and some had fought in the Revolutionary War. Another batch of my ancestors came to America after the church had been well established in Salt Lake, in the 1850's and later, the fruits of missionary work in Europe. They came from England, Denmark, and the Isle of Man. Most of them sailed across the Atlantic to New York, or New Orleans, and made their way to St. Louis or Independence, Missouri, where they were outfitted with covered wagons or handcarts, and made the long, and sometimes treacherous trek across the plains, to a new home in the Rocky Mountains; to Zion.

Among the more notable names in my genealogy are: Jonathan Browning, the famous gunsmith and inventor, and an acquaintance of Abraham Lincoln; Jesse N. Smith, first cousin to Joseph Smith, mayor of Parowan, Utah, and founder of the city of Snowflake, Arizona; Samuel Hollister Rogers, member of the famous Mormon Battalion, and early settler of northern Arizona; James Beauchamp Walker, captain of a wagon train of about 350 who crossed the plains; Peder Mortenson, a native of Denmark, and member of the ill-fated Willie Handcart Company; John Corlett McNeil, from the Isle of Man, early settler of northern Arizona, and of the Mormon colonies in Mexico; and his wife, Mary Ann Smith, famous pioneer woman from Lancashire, England, who was a resident for many years of Show Low, Arizona, served as the first leader of the women's relief society there, and kept a wonderful journal of her life and travels. There are many others, but I'll restrain myself.

If you can't tell, I am extremely proud of my Mormon heritage. Even though we refer to all members of the church as "Saints," I know they were just ordinary people. They involved themselves in controversial things: like polygamy, the Mountain Meadows massacre, and, in the first place, Mormonism. I can't apologize for them, and I don't need to. If things had been different, there's a good chance I might not even be here! But, for all their shortcomings, these ordinary people did some extraordinary things, for which they will be remembered with fondness by their descendants for generations to come.

I wish I could give as detailed an account for my father's side, but I can't. I don't know many names, but I do know their story: they were Jews living in central and eastern Europe, in Austria and Russia. Most likely, they had lived there since the middle ages, and had known persecution and prejudice. Those living in Russia were most likely confined to a geographical area known the the "pale of settlement," a sort of large ghetto or reservation for Jews. I know that they emigrated to the United States in the early 20th century, probably during the massive waves of immigration before WWI. And, lucky for them, they missed WWII, and the Holocaust. Now I understand why I love Fiddler on the Roof: Tevia might have been my grandfather! Once here in America, they lived in New England and around the Great Lakes, before health problems brought them to the beautiful climate of the Arizona desert, about 60+ years ago. I would love to know more about these incredible people, and I continue to search.

Do you see, as I do, a similar strain among these stories? These were people of faith, made strangers in their own land because of their beliefs. They had a similar yearning for a better life, in a better land, and this yearning was reinforced by their conviction that God would prepare a better place for them. Every year at Passover, a prayer is recited, which says: "This year we are in Egypt... Next year, we will be in Jerusalem, in the Holy Land!" From this yearning, one of the great political movements of the 20th century, Zionism, sprang up, with the aspiration to create a Jewish homeland in Palestine where Jews of all nationalities would be welcome. Similarly, the doctrines of Mormonism, as taught by Joseph Smith and succeeding prophets, emphasizes the building of a "New Jerusalem" here, on the American continent. The yearning for Zion (no reference to the FLDS intended) is in my blood.

I like to think that these people sailed oceans and crossed continents so that I don't have to. For me, Zion is not some far-away place where I will be happy, and feel at home. It is here, it is now, or, at least, it can be. I believe by choosing to live my life in a way as close as possible to the way I would live in my imagined utopia, I will be my best self, and I will be happy and at home. I also believe that by living this way, I will get the slightest sneak-peak of the real Zion, which is prepared for all those who know where to look.