For some time,
I have been personally struggling with a question about Jewish identity. The topic is complicated, controversial and,
in addressing it here, my intention is to promote thought and
conversation. I reserve the right to
change my mind, about what I say in this column! And, in what I consider to be among the
holiest words in the English language: “I might be wrong.”
Maybe it was
prompted by all this rhetoric of “America First” – knowing full well that the
phrase comes loaded with baggage, echoes of its isolationist and antisemitic
roots in relation to both World Wars in the 20th century. Or the old game we played in youth group:
“Are you an American Jew or a Jewish American?”
Which is the noun, and which the adjective? Which the modifier and which the core? Which
could theoretically change, and which is simply who you are?
I believe in
Jewish unity. I do believe, somehow, at
some level, that, as a Jew, I have something in common with a Yemenite-born
taxi driver in Israel, or a Charedi (ultra-Orthodox Jew) who does not consider
what I do to be Jewish… something that, actually, I do not
have in common with a non-Jewish neighbor.
Now, this is a
very controversial statement. Among
other reasons why it is so "out there" is that it is really not obvious. Clearly, culturally, often
politically, and in every usual measure of lifestyle and values, what we
share with neighbors who are similar to us in every way except for faith is
very deep. What ties us together as Jews, that thread of
Jewish commonality I am referring to… is
very hard to see. It pulls, it tugs, but still we can’t quite
grasp it when we look for it. It is not belief (some Jews are atheists, many others agnostics, some are deeply pious),
it is not shared values (some Jews are... never mind that). So what is it?
One more
caveat – a very important one. This…
sense of commonality I am referring to is made even more complicated by a related but not identical issue: intermarriage. The fact that there are
so many members of so many of our families who are not Jewish truly
“complexifies” this search for the elusive thread of Jewish unity.
For now, then, I suppose what I
am saying is… there is something in common between any families with any Jewish
members in it. Even if, perhaps, that
pull is not felt powerfully in our day to day lives.
We are so
different from one another. What could
that unity be? Is it something nebulous
and impossible to define? It is simply a
shared past, and the sense of some kind of common destiny still?
The stakes are
high here. I believe that the entire
Zionist enterprise, the notion of Israel as a Jewish homeland rests not on religious belief, but the notion of a Jewish people, the idea that there is
something which unites us as Jews which transcends behavior and belief.
My sense of
being Jewish is central to who I am. But
is it all of it? And what other
commitments clash with that?
A few years
ago the question was posed to me in a different way. If I had the hypothetical choice between
being Orthodox, or not being Jewish at all, what would I choose? After a lot of thought, comforting myself
with some very positive experiences with the progressive cutting edge of the
so-called “modern Orthodox” world, or among the "open Orthodox," I came up with an answer.
But then the question was pushed further
still. If I had to choose between being
ultra-Orthodox, or not being Jewish at all...?
All I can say in response to that
is to duck the question, or redefine the parameters. I cannot envision that scenario.
I believe in Jewish unity. But/and…
There are core parts of my being and my own belief system which I view
as part of my Jewish identity, rather
than apart from it. There are values I
hold which, if forced to put aside, would simply not be Judaism as I understand
it.
I share some of those values with
you now.
Part of my Jewish core is egalitarianism, the belief in equal
roles, rights and responsibilities for all, affirmed at a certain age (Bar or Bat Mitzvah, whether one has a ceremony or not), but regardless of gender.
Another is a belief in history. I believe that Jewish life, culture, perspectives, attitudes and sacred texts grow in and over time. I believe in building a bridge between
yesterday and today, between the world of text and tradition and the lives we
lead in any given time period.
A third is a connection to humanity as a whole. Even as I work on behalf of a Jewish
community and to promote a Jewish future, my core beliefs include a sense of
the dignity of all life, that all human beings – all of us, of all colors and
creed, races and religion, all of us are made in the image of God. Yes, I believe there is something special
about being Jewish and I want to encourage Jewish choices and Jewish life – but
I do not believe in a fundamental,
ontological, inherent and
unalterable difference in the “souls” of one group of human beings from any
other.
Finally, for now, my core beliefs
include the impulse towards involvement
with the world, the work to make this world a better place, even while
recognizing that different people will be moved to do this in very different
ways. Yes, progressive Jews use this
term so much that it is easy to mock it.
But I believe in the obligation of tikkun
olam.
I believe in history and growth, in tradition and change, in science and spirituality, in the Jewish people and a connection with all of creation, in self-interest and in standing up for others. And I believe that all
can be held, with love, in the palms of an open hand, with open hearts and open
minds.
What comes first, and what is
secondary? What binds us together, and
what tears us apart? Who am I, and who
are you?
No final answers, and even how we
respond, or what we feel about this, may change, for each of us, over time.
