Benyamin Cohen's writing turns from the usual news reporting that he's known for on a local level, to a brain-to-the-keyboard memoir about a year he spent church-hopping to get closer to Judaism. Yes, the son of a rabbi, in his tell-all book about his church experiences puts in writing, what many may only think to themselves.
This hysterical book is literally one of those "laugh out loud" books that can be imitated, but never duplicated. This is the perfect example of an Orthodox guy with a quasi-unorthodox sense of humor and the guts to put it on paper.
One of the best quotes in the book, where Cohen talks about moving off to college and living on his own, involves the temptations he was faced with.
"As for me, I wanted to date a shiksa, a gentile girl, wrapped in bacon, but all I could do was order cable. My big defiant act was watching the Cartoon Network, something that had been denied to me as a kid ...What kind of heretic was I when I was in my midtwenties and my biggest vice was watching The Smurfs?" But funny stories aren't the only reasons to read this book -It has a deeper meaning about one man's journey that could be the journey of any man or woman - Jewish, Christian or Hindu. As Cohen carries the reader on his guilted and restless Jewish soul, he brings the reader home with him as everything in this book comes full circle.
Marcy J. Levinson Staff Writer
This is the story of how Cohen got his Jew back. Stella got her groove back in Terry McMillan's award winning book, so here's the background on native Atlantan Benyamin Cohen, who as an Orthodox Jew, needed a church-going year to find out what all the Christian hype was about, and to find his way back to a more meaningful Judaism.
From the experience this 33-year-old not only got his Jew back, but managed to land his first book deal with HarperOne and sign on for a national book tour. Along the way he had many funny, and several meaningful experiences both in and out of church, but more than that, he got his Jew back.
Cohen said that growing up in Atlanta as the son of the former Yeshiva Atlanta High School director and rabbi, Herbert Cohen, was a regular Orthodox upbringing. Prayers three times a day, prayers before and after many daily activities, and in the south, well, living across the street from a church.
He had a longing to go to church, he said. He wanted to see what Christians got to do. In his 30s, with the support of his wife, Elizabeth, and a blessing from an Orthodox rabbi, he got to fulfill that dream with only two rules: wear his kippah at all times, and his press pass. The results of his church crusade are documented in My Jesus Year: A Rabbi's Son Wanders the Bible Belt in Search of His Own Faith.
Unabashedly the outgoing Cohen, known in Atlanta for his writing ability, was off and running. Kippah clad and with press pass in his pocket or around his neck, he took in the sights, sounds, fanaticism and excitement of the Christian world in which he immersed himself. From the summer of 2006 - 07 Cohen church hopped, made pre-arrangements with insular church groups such as the African Hebrew Israelites and the Mormon Church to get in the door. But he said he went on this journey with the blessing of an Atlanta rabbi. The rabbi has not, and will not be named, Cohen said - claiming reporter/rabbi confidentiality. Joking aside, Cohen said he promised not to tell the name of the rabbi, for no other reason than it was a promise before the final book went to press.
At the outset, Cohen said, some people were perplexed by his concept. "I think a lot of people when they hear about it they are hesitant. Now that they have seen the finished product, are like, 'okay, I get it,'" he said.
In the course of his year, Cohen attended the Megafest in downtown Atlanta, Faith Days at a Braves game, Baptist, Methodist, evangelical and Catholic churches, to name just a few. The most intense moment in this journey was during confession at a Catholic church. "Going to confession was certainly the most scary part of the year," he said. His friend told him that confession was only for Catholics but as in a journalistic leap of faith, he entered the confessional area. He opted for the screened side where the priest could not see his yarmulke. Cohen said his Catholic friend had walked him through what to say, but after all the memorization of lines, he froze when the priest asked him what he was there to confess.
Cohen said, "I froze. I forgot, oh shoot, I have to confess something." So, in an honest response Cohen said to the priest, "I feel distant from my religion." From that confession he got a response that affected him - the priest told him to attend services more regularly, even if he didn't feel like it, to be a part of the congregation. He didn't say which one exactly, and Cohen said that moment impacted him. "It was really something poignant," he recalled.
Cohen said there were many surreal events along the way.
A Saturday for example was filled with synagogue activities at either of shuls where he and his wife are members, and the next day he was by himself checking out churches.
"At a lot of the churches I was treated like a rock star. People were poking and prodding at me, wanting to ask me questions when I wanted to know about them," he said.
Even his father, who is a rabbi in Texas, approved of his son's book. More effectively, he helped his son edit the manuscript.
"He has a degree in English and he would call and say, 'you know that place where you write about us arguing? Well, you left out a comma,'" said Cohen.
Cohen said he is proud of this book and all it entails. Although his wife, the daughter of a Methodist preacher who converted to Judaism prior to meeting Cohen, is a "very private person," he said, "At the same time, she's extremely proud. Her Christian family, they are getting a kick out of this."
He found his way to a better relationship with his father; he's got a supportive wife and two happy dogs, a stellar book deal, and a new-found and much needed appreciation for his own religion. He said, "This is what I am leaving on. If I were to die today, this is what I am leaving on."
