Interfaith Marriage in the American Jewish Community: Where Can We Go From Here?

There are few topics that seem to be at odds with my libertarianism and Judaism, but interfaith marriage is one of them. This hits home not simply because I read a recently published op-ed from Israeli newspaper Ha'aretz, but more so because I personally know Jews who are part of interfaith families. As a libertarian, I believe in a free society in which consenting adults should be allowed to make their own choices, provided they are not harming anyone. On the other hand, I am of the opinion that a Jewish home is strongest when both of the partners are Jewish, and that interfaith marriage is statistically more likely to weaken that foundation. What exactly is at the core of the discussion of interfaith marriages in Judaism? To what extent are the challenges to interfaith marriages insurmountable? What are the arguments for and against interfaith marriage? There is a lot to cover, and it is not necessarily easy for it all to coalesce, so bear with me as I attempt to express all my thoughts on the topic.

First, the religious arguments. Deuteronomy 7:3-4 prohibits marriage between the seven nations that were occupying the land of Israel at the time. The reason (7:4) is because the Israelites might come to worship the deities of the non-Israelites. The Talmud takes this passage to mean that any marriage with a non-Jew was prohibited (Avodah Zara 36b). On the other hand, Deuteronomy [23:4-9] potentially implies that interfaith marriage was permissible because the grandchildren of Edomites or Egyptians that were in interfaith marriages with Jews were considered to be Jewish. Traditional commentators, such as Maimonides (Mishneh Torah, Issurei Biah, 12:17-25), interpreted this passage to mean that the grandchildren were grandchildren of converts. There seems to have been a couple of interfaith marriages in the later biblical text, such as King David marrying the daughter of the King of Geshur (II Samuel 3:3), or Bathsheba marrying Uriah the Hittite (II Samuel 11:3). However, the later prophets in the Hebrew Scriptures are explicitly against interfaith marriage (Malachi 2:11, Ezra 10:10-11, Nehemiah 10:31), and goes as far as excommunicating those that refuse to divorce their non-Jewish spouses (Nehemiah 10:31). One could debate whether these prohibitions were on marrying all non-Jews or simply against the seven tribes mentioned in Deuteronomy 7:3-4 since they had a particular reputation for being idolatrous and immoral. In either case, the Talmud applies the prohibition on interfaith marriage for all non-Jews (Kiddushin 68b). The Shulchan Aruch also gets into which prohibitions are biblical, and which are rabbinic. Traditional Judaism assumes that a Jewish marriage can be between two Jews, regardless of whether they were born Jewish or converted.

With the religious texts out of the way for a moment, let's point out another reality: most Jews in America are not Orthodox and are not religious (Pew Research, 2013; NJPS, 2001). Given the lack of religiosity among American Jews, the religious arguments are not going to have much sway over most American Jews. Most American Jews do not necessarily want their children to be Torah observant, but there is a general desire for non-Orthodox Jews for their children to remain Jewish. Even in the non-Orthodox world, there is a desire to keep Judaism and the Jewish people going.

However, there is another reality to point out: most Jews marry outside the faith. As the Pew Research Center results from 2013 show, about six out of ten Jews married outside the faith. This is significantly higher than it was before 1970, when it was only 17 percent. What was once considered taboo has now become commonplace in the Jewish community.

Those in interfaith marriages argue that they make it work. Like all marriages, they have their unique challenges, and for interfaith couples, religion is a big one. Enough Jewish partners in these marriages enter it hoping that they can both have Jewish children while not coercing their partner to convert to Judaism. How well does that work?

Before I continue, I would like to state that I am not here to overgeneralize by saying that interfaith marriages are all failures. I have seen interfaith couples that have made it work, and I have seen Jewish couples where the marriage ends in bitter divorce. Heck, I have even met non-Jewish partners that were more engaged in synagogue life than their Jewish partner. That being said, there is enough to be said about how interfaith couples statistically fare in comparison to Jewish couples.

Intermarriage is virtually nonexistent in the Orthodox world, and still uncommon in the Conservative movement. Intermarriage is most common among Reform and unaffiliated Jews (Pew Research). While the Pew Research survey doesn't explicitly show practice or belief among intermarried Jews, Pew shows that Reform and unaffiliated Jews are less likely to believe in and practice Judaism. Findings from the National Jewish Population Survey (NJPS) in 2000 are more to the point by saying that children of intermarried Jews are much less likely to have Jewish connections than those of in-married Jews (see below). The NJPS from 1990 has similar results. There is also some research to suggest that interfaith marriages in America are more likely to end in divorce (e.g., Sherkat, 2004), as well as a British study to show that interfaith marriages are twice as likely to end than marriages with two Jewish partners (Graham, 2016).

Even if a certain couple is interfaith, I am willing that many would admit that it is much easier to keep the home Jewish if the home is a single-religion home. If not, there will come a time where parents will have to provide answers about religion, one's understating of it, and how to approach spirituality. Otherwise, it is confusing for the child because the child cannot answer questions such as "Who am I," "What do I believe in," or "What is the meaning of life?" When both parents celebrate Jewish holidays and maintain a Jewish household, there child has more than a fighting chance to maintain Jewish identity and clarity, and all the more so when both parents are Jewish and are greatly invested in a Jewish home. As a side question, how can you expect the child to be engaged when you can't even convince the non-Jewish spouse to be Jewish? And it doesn't just limit the children of intermarried couples. It affects the spouses, as well. The Jewish spouse who is married to the non-Jewish spouse makes compromises to the point where it is significantly more difficult to live an engaging Jewish life. Unless the non-Jewish spouse makes a sincere conversion, as opposed to the perfunctory type simply to please the future in-laws, then observing Shabbat or any other ritual is not going to be as meaningful, in no small part because the non-Jewish spouse is not invested in Judaism the same way. Nurturing a Jewish family starts, continues, and ends in the home, and that works better when both parties are invested in Judaism and have common ground, especially with something as vital and central as religion.

This is not a matter of anecdotal evidence or my personal opinion that is based on being part of Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox communities. Professionally administered censuses and surveys confirm that intermarriage makes it much less likely that an individual maintains their Jewish identity than those who are part of a home with two Jewish spouses.

This then leads to a follow-up question: should we make the best of it since it is already here? Pew Research found that out of the religious groups out there, Americans have the most positive feelings towards Jews. As long as Americans have an overall positive view of Jews, intermarriage is not going anywhere. Because of that, some are of the opinion that we should genuinely welcome interfaith couples and do whatever we can to make sure that the children have reason to stay Jewish. Inclusion is a value, but only to a certain point. The Reform movement actually took steps in making sure that interfaith couples are included. Reform Judaism was the denomination to adopt patrilineal descent in 1983 precisely because it wanted to include interfaith families. As Pew Research found, half of all couples in Reform Judaism are now interfaith. This permissibility unquestionably helped precipitate in the spike of interfaith couples.

Even assuming interfaith marriage isn't going anywhere and regardless of how individual marriages may or may not work out, what we can see is that in the big picture, interfaith marriage does not help to ensure Jewish continuity. What's more is that the intermarriage rate doesn't need to be this high. Using the United Kingdom as an example, the interfaith marriage rate is only 26 percent, which is around half what it is in the United States. And there needs to be a sense of urgency because there are significantly less Jews than there are Christians in this country, or even the world. Judaism is a beautiful religion with centuries-old traditions and teachings that I would hate to see go by the wayside.

Regarding the Ha'aretz article, it doesn't see interfaith as a problem. It simply dismisses the naysayers of "ethnopolitical entrepreneurs" without even providing a single benefit of interfaith marriage. Even so, it does bring up a good point, which is that there there are barriers to maintaining a Jewish life. I believe that for Jews to want to live an active Jewish life, they need to feel engaged. Especially with all the freedoms we have, Judaism has to be able to compete in the marketplace of ideas and life choices. We can no longer lean on the explanation of "this is the way our ancestors did it." Whether it sounds more egocentric, the truth is that we need to make sure that the synagogue is fulfilling its congregants' needs. It is difficult to envision that goal when there are barriers to that engagement.

The Ha'aretz article focuses on the cost aspect, which has truth to it. Raising children is expensive enough these days as is. Throw on the additional costs associated with the Jewish day school tuition crisis. For those who observe Shabbat, housing is limited, and thus more expensive, since one is required to live within walking distance of the synagogue. There is also the cost of kosher food, the extra time one has to take off for the holidays, the list goes on. But it is not just cost. That unintended consequence of the Reform movement adopting patrilineal descent is that it tore further divide in the question of "Who is a Jew?" According to the Conservative and Orthodox movements, a Jew is one either born to a Jewish mother or one that goes through a valid conversion. The children whose only Jewish parent is the father run into issues if they want to interact with the greater Jewish world because the other major denominations don't consider them Jewish. This not only messes with the psyche of this individual that wants to become Jewish, but it further divides the denominations. There is no easy answer as to how to bridge that gap, and I can't pretend to know how to do so. And if that weren't enough, Jewish observance has become more strict in the past century, and even within the past decade. For those who want to become observant, the increasing stringencies can become so stifling that people who might want to observe more might be turned off by the excessiveness. I'm Modern Orthodox, and even I think there are aspects of Orthodox Judaism that go too far. It is less attractive for non-Orthodox Jews who otherwise would want to bring in more Jewish tradition in their lives. On the other hand, it doesn't mean you still can't live a meaningful, engaged Jewish life with a higher level of observance. And it doesn't mean that it is impossible to surpass these barriers. Orthodox Jews are case in point. I know that experience first-hand. Sure, it involves taking those extra days off of work for the holidays, not going out Friday night, and making a whole series of commitments. This is not saying that I expect every single non-Orthodox Jew to become Orthodox because I know that is not realistic. Conversely, if you want to live a Jewish life, you'll put in the time and effort to do it.

For more Jews to be engaged in Jewish life, it takes two to tango. The individual Jew has to be willing to make something of it. Although we live in a society of instant gratification, spirituality and religion are processes that take time to foster and grow. Again, the individual Jew has to want it. With that being said, the Jewish institution, whether that is the synagogue or local JCC, needs to better engage Jews into becoming Jewish. We have to go beyond a practice that merely pays homage to the past. This is a marketing problem. We need Jews to be excited about Judaism, and I mean all Jews, even the ones that are presently not engaged. Even if Jews are not practicing every single last mitzvah, having them be excited about a few mitzvahs is better than total disconnect. That being said, I am aware of the challenges that would ahead for such a lofty vision. As much as I am not thrilled about the high levels of interfaith marriage, I also concede that interfaith marriage is not going anywhere. It should be discouraged in the Jewish world. We are such a small people that we cannot afford to thin our ranks further. The whole point is to insure that Judaism lives on for generations to come. Faith cannot suffer too much dilution lest Judaism becomes something completely foreign to what it traditionally and historically has been. If possible, we should encourage Jews to marry other Jews, or at least to encourage that the non-Jewish partner convert. But the issue is more than simply discouraging the practice of interfaith marriage that erodes Jewish engagement.

Interfaith marriage in the Jewish world is a very intertwined issue facing the Jewish community. It brings up the question of whether interfaith marriage caused Jewish disengagement. I think the disengagement is a result of the increased level of acceptance of Jews in American society, which made it easier to assimilate, but I also think that interfaith marriage exacerbates the disengagement. An overall lack of Jewish education in the non-Orthodox world does not help with any of this. Interfaith marriage also interplays with lower birth rates in the non-Orthodox community, among other disconcerting factors. I don't necessarily fear the downright extinction of Judaism, but given demographic factors (e.g., birth rate, levels of engagement), it wouldn't surprise me if the majority of Jews in America within the next generation or two are Orthodox. I am Modern Orthodox, mind you. While I think that Orthodoxy is much closer to how Judaism should be practiced, I still think that there are some valid criticisms that would need to be addressed, and I do think that a more pluralistic American Jewry is healthier for all sides to keep each other honest. But getting back on the main track, the question is how to have proper educational interventions and strong social networks that instill a sense of Jewishness of all Jews, including the children of interfaith marriages. There are no easy answers to this one, but what I can say is that if we don't address greater Jewish engagement, we will see a decline in Jews, especially in the non-Orthodox world. The Lubavitcher Rebbe didn't care about denominational affiliation. He cared about the people of Israel, and he cared about keeping Judaism alive and well in this world. Whatever the answer(s) may be, they need to focus on engaging Jews and making sure that we have that connectedness of being one people.

Should Jews Commemorate Yom HaShoah?

The Holocaust took the lives of over 6 million Jews, as well as 5 million non-Jews. The Holocaust not only wiped out a third of the Jewish population, but it has left its mark on the psyche of the Jewish people. The way we approach theology simply isn't the same anymore. "Where was G-d when this tragedy struck? How could an all-loving, all-just G-d allow for this to happen in the first place?" Since there are still Holocaust survivors out there, the wounds are still fresh. Also, if we consider the upward trend of anti-Semitism, particularly in Europe, and genocides that have taken place post-Holocaust, it seems like humanity could use a day to remember the Holocaust because a sizable portion of the world population has most decidedly not learned its lesson on how to treat others like human beings. That being the case, why do I even bother asking the question "Should we commemorate Yom HaShoah [Holocaust Remembrance Day]?" Rather than get swept up in some fervor, I would like to address my apprehensions, as well as get a better sense of what Yom HaShoah is ultimately supposed to engender.

One of my issues is when Yom HaShoah is observed. Originally, it was supposed to fall on the same day as the Warsaw Ghetto uprising, but that never happened because that would have meant observing Yom HaShoah on Passover. Instead, Yom HaShoah falls on 27 Nissan. Not only does the selection of this date come off as arbitrary, but in some ways, it's un-Jewish. For one, the month of Nissan is considered to be one of redemption and joy (at least International Holocaust Remembrance Day falls on January 27, which is the liberation of Auschwitz), which is why there is traditionally no established period of mourning. On the other hand, many Jews have mourned during the month of Nissan, so who am I to ignore the tradition of ignoring a tradition?

A better date that could have been chosen to line up liturgically with the Jewish calendar would have been Tisha B'Av, a time that mourns all the tragedies that have befallen the Jewish people. Conversely, one could argue that the Holocaust was so traumatic that it deserves its own day of commemoration. Plus, since Tisha B'Av traditionally implies a nationalistic level of sin and repentance, it's hardly palatable to suggest that the European Jews at the time were so spiritually devoid that they were responsible for their suffering during the Holocaust. On the other hand, there have always existed people that have tried to wipe out the Jews. Until we address genocidal proclivities and Jew-hatred, the chant "Never again" becomes as hollow as an egg shell.

I am also worried about what the current commemoration of Yom HaShoah conveys not only to the Jewish people, but the entirety of humanity. Take a look at the 2013 Pew Center survey on American Jews. When asked what is essential to being Jewish, you want to know what the number one answer was? It wasn't observing Jewish law, believing in G-d, or being a part of a Jewish community. What was the answer? Remembering the Holocaust. I take issue with the notion that the single most important factor in Jewish identity for American Jews is wallowing in victimhood. What kind of message does that send about the Jewish people? What sort of message does that send about Judaism? Judaism is not and should not be about persecution and oppression. In spite of what happens in life, Judaism has ultimately had a message of hope and redemption, a message that is obfuscated by the mythicization of the Holocaust.

Maybe my issue isn't so much with whether we should commemorate those who senselessly lost their lives during the Holocaust, but how that is being commemorated, and this doesn't necessarily even refer to the lack of consensus on rituals or traditions for Yom HaShoah. If this past Passover were a reminder of anything for me, it is that the past is something we should not forget, but by the same token, we shouldn't revel in it. If certain individuals feel they need to mourn, that's fine. King Solomon teaches us in Ecclesiastes (3:4) that there is a time to dance and a time to mourn. Jewish law provides us with the time to go through the mourning process, but we don't remain in the stasis of mourning for the remainder of our lives.

As I brought up a few years ago, the best way to honor the memory of those lost in the Holocaust, at least for Jews, is to live even more Jewish lives than before. Give tzedakah. Observe Shabbat. Study some Torah. Find more ways to love your neighbor like you love yourself. For those who are not Jewish (and even for those who are Jewish), live a life of tolerance, understanding, and love towards your fellow human being. Foster a sense of community and society that prevents another Holocaust from happening. That is the real way that their memory will forever be a blessing.

How to Respond to Scumbags That Murder Innocent Israeli Teenagers

About three weeks ago, three Israeli teenagers were kidnapped by terrorists (well, one was technically American, but the news is still dismaying). Hope of returning the boys to their parents dissipated when their bodies were found yesterday. This sad news was overshadowed by the Supreme Court ruling on contraception and the World Cup, but the news wouldn't and didn't get past the Jewish people. The Jewish people, religious and secular alike, were appalled, mortified, and dismayed at what happened to these three teenagers.

My initial reaction was not quite that way. It was one of hopelessness and increasing apathy. It felt like the cycle of violence in that part of the world was never going to come to an end. "Hamas and Fatah will never stop hating Israel. It's just the way things are. Plus, murder is an unfortunate facet of human existence. It's statistically bound to happen. Any murder is a hate crime because it shows the individual's lack of respect for the dignity of man. The more things change, the more they stay the same." That's how I felt when I first heard the news.

Then I had some other thoughts that ran through my head, ones that were more along the lines of moral indignation. "Not only did they commit murder, but they maimed these young, innocent teenagers simply because they were Jewish. There are still people out there who hate Jews for simply being Jewish. Antisemitism is alive and kicking, and we shouldn't become numb and passive simply because it's reality."

So how is one to react?

First, if you feel that you need to go through a mourning or grieving process, go through the cycle. One has to process the hurt and loss that comes with this sort of tragedy. This is a fortiori true if you personally knew the victims.

As for the Israeli government's reaction, that one is trickier because international relations are inherently so, especially in that part of the world. Throw in halacha, and it's even more complicated. Normally, I would cite Berachot 10a and say that we should pray that the murderers repent for what they have done. However, murder is such an egregious act that not even teshuvah is particularly going to help in this case, and not simply because it is considered one of the seven Noachide Laws that even non-Jews should follow. Why the egregiousness? One of the prerequisites in the teshuvah process is being able to ask the individual you wrong for forgiveness. This doesn't work in the case of murder because the victim that needs to be recompensed is no longer alive. In Judaism, only the victim of a crime or sin committed bein adam l'chavero can grant forgiveness. Since the victim is unable to do so, murder is unforgivable and no matter what the perpetrator does, he can never fully atone for this particular sin. It's why murder is one of the three sins for which a Jew should rather martyr himself, and it's why the Torah proscribes the death penalty (Numbers 35:31), even though the death penalty has not been enacted in ages. Also, it's not as if this were involuntary manslaughter, for which the Torah proscribes a different penalty. This was callous, first-degree murder. Normally, I would not advocate the death penalty, but assuming that hell exists, there is a special place in hell for these ingrates to burn because they have squandered whatever divine potential they might have [had]. Once the Israeli government tries these suspects in a court of law, and if they find them guilty, I would have no problem with the death penalty in this case, given the heinousness of the crime.

If it were only an issue of a hate crime, I would confine the moral indignation to the murderers. However, Hamas fired rockets into Israel again, and given that Fatah recently formed a coalition government with Hamas, that makes the entire Palestinian, governmental entity culpable. It's as if Hamas were provoking Israel into war, at which point Israel would naturally be blamed by the vast majority of the international community because that is the pervasiveness of the anti-Israel bias in much of the world. Whatever response the Israeli government is, it needs to be firm and resolute. Offhand, I don't know what that should look like in practice, and I don't know how that will end up. What I do know is that Israel cannot continue to turn the other cheek, and the Israeli people should pressure its government to act accordingly.

Aside from that, the Jewish people should double down. What do I mean by that? For those of us not living in Israel, we should be more ardent supporters of Israel. Buy Israeli goods, send tzedakah Israel's way, act as advocates of Israel by informing the greater world as to why Israel is an overall good country that is worth protecting. Whatever is in our power to do to help, we should do.

We should also remember that these scoundrels murdered Jews simply for being Jews. Instead of shying away from our Jewishness, we Jews should double down on that, as well. If you haven't been observant in a while, I ask that you find a mitzvah, a single mitzvah, that you find meaningful, and incorporate that in your lives as a way to honor the memories of these boys. If you are practicing mitzvahs, find one that could use some work or find a way to enhance it, and do this life-affirming act to honor their memories. Even for those of you that are reading this and are not Jewish, I ask that you join the Jewish people in solidarity because murdering someone simply for who they are, regardless of religion, is unacceptable.

The best way for Jews to honor these slain individuals is to show that we value life and that will continue to hold to the values that make the Jewish people a light unto nations. I hope that the Jewish people find strength and unity in this tragic moment in order to affirm who we are, what we stand for, and that anti-Semitic scum of the earth cannot so easily get rid of the Jewish people. Am Yisrael chai!

Are the Haredim Right to Be Protesting Compulsory Military Service?

This past Sunday, thousands of ultra-Orthodox Jews in Israel were protesting in Jerusalem about members of their community being required to be drafted in the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF). Since the creation of the State of Israel in 1948, there has been an exemption of ultra-Orthodox Jews serving in the military so they can pursue their religious studies. Many of these ultra-Orthodox Jews receive welfare checks from the Israeli government so that they can continue with their religious studies. Apparently, the rest of Israeli society is getting fed up with this special treatment, and I hardly can blame them. I would like to divide the remainder of this blog entry into two sections: 1) a brief look behind the secular argument behind compulsory military service, and 2) dispelling the notion that "G-d wants us to study Torah all day," and 3) a conclusion around the topic of economics.

I. National Military Service
As a libertarian, it should be no surprise that I shudder at the thought of the government forcing individuals to compulsively serve in the military. In a free society, if a threat is existential enough and the fervor of patriotism is strong enough, there should be no need to conscript anyone because citizens will want to serve their country. That is why it seemed so paradoxical for the United States fighting for freedom in WWII while conscripting soldiers. This, of course, is a deontological argument against conscription. Amongst other things, a society is a reflection of its values, culture, political climate, and the external and internal threats it faces. It would be preferable if we can co-exist my trading freely with one another instead of going to war. Not all countries have the luxury of that option, and given its surrounding hostile countries, Israel is one of those countries. Israel has a cold peace with Egypt, which is contingent upon Egypt's stability. Syria, Lebanon, and Turkey, amongst other countries, maintain their animus and hostility towards the Jewish state. Until neighboring countries can get along with Israel, the Israeli government will continue to maintain its high demand of soldiers via conscription. It's nowhere ideal, but given the circumstances, it's the best the Israeli government can do.

II. Judaism and Torah Study
According to Pirke Avot (1:2), the Torah is one of the three pillars upon which the world stands. This is not to diminish the importance of Torah or Torah study, but to remind ourselves that Torah study is to be combined with an occupation (דרך ארץ) because without both, one is prone to sin (P.A. 2:2). The great Sages realized this point, which is why so many of the famous Torah scholars had jobs in addition to their scholarly work so they can maintain their economic self-sufficiency. Hillel was a woodcutter. Maimonides and Nachmanides were physicians. Rashi owned a vineyard. The Rashbam tended livestock and the Ramchal was a diamond cutter. Historically speaking, the few who studied Torah all the time were well-to-do families who had the means to finance that lifestyle. It was not a lifestyle meant for the masses. Rabbi Shimon taught that the essential thing is not study, but deed (P.A. 1:17). Torah study is important because we need a general understanding of the parameters of Jewish law. However, we also need to act on it and do as many mitzvahs and good deeds as possible, which means getting your nose out of your books to perform those deeds. There needs to be a balance between study and deeds, as well as one between study and work.

III. Economics and Conclusion
There is also a question of economics to consider. In economic terms, the Haredim and the Israeli government have saturated the labor market with an artificially high demand of Torah scholars. As previously mentioned, not everyone is meant to be a Torah scholar by profession, and not everyone needs to be a Torah scholar. Even if some were meant to be, some of the greatest rabbis supplemented their Torah study with another occupation. If the ultra-Orthodox population is growing at a faster rate than the rest of Israel, shouldn't we question whether Israel can handle a demographic that is so heavily dependent on the government's welfare, especially when they are not providing anything of significant economic worth in return? Also, doesn't the Grace After Meals (ברכת המזון) say that one should not be dependent on the gifts of man? Instead of being scornful for the "decadent, secular Israeli government," shouldn't these individuals be thankful for the sustenance to be able to sit around and study Torah all day without making at least proportional contributions to the Israeli economy? This is not a self-sustaining model, and the fact that the ultra-Orthodox have been able to get away with mooching off the Israeli government for over sixty years is astounding. It's a shandeh that their self-righteousness would sap an economy and a nation of greater potential. If the ultra-Orthodox want to perpetuate poverty, fine, but they should not do it on the state's dime (or in this case, shekel). Considering "Jewish values," why would someone want to live a lifestyle that intentionally puts them in a state of poverty? Midrash (Shemot Rabbah 31:14) states that if you put fifty plagues on one side and poverty on the other, poverty outweighs them all. There is a reason why Jewish law puts a cap on giving tzedakah: to make sure one in not in such dire straits to receive tzedakah themselves. Judaism does not believe in a vow of poverty, and to perpetuate this inaccuracy in G-d's name is the real audacity.

As I pointed out a few weeks ago when analyzing Israel's economy, integrating the Haredim into the greater society is a challenge to economic progress. At the very least, if the Israeli government is going to maintain conscription, the ultra-Orthodox should not get a pass. If we want to get Haredim integrated into society, the Israeli government should go beyond conscription for these individuals. The Israeli government should stop treating the Haredim like they're G-d's gift to the world and treat them just like any other Israeli citizen instead of coddling them with welfare and conscription exemptions. Only then will they be contributing members to society.

Post-Yom Kippur Thoughts on Technological Teshuvah

Most actions or objects are not inherently bad, wrong, or evil. Fire can be used to destroy, but it also has positive uses such as heat, light, and a way to cook food. Money isn't evil either. It can be used for greed or it can be used to help those who are less fortunate. How we use our technology also comes with a similar conundrum.

As I pointed out a while back, whether it is our Facebook accounts, our iPhones, or e-mail, technological progress is very much a double-edged sword. On the one hand, technology is a great tool for me to keep in touch with those who do not live in close proximity. If it were not for Facebook or e-mail, I would have to handwrite letters to family and friends far away, which would be quite tedious. Social media, the Internet, e-mail, these can all be instruments to enhance our lives, particularly in terms of communication.

Conversely, technology has downsides to it, and since we're all too human, it has a way of getting the better of us with its allure. For many of us, technology is not so much as life enhancer as it is an extension of ourselves, or even worse, a form of enslavement. If someone sends a text message, many of us would feel very compelled to answer it immediately, and if we don't, it eats us up inside. The amount of time spent on social media or in front of a screen can be mind-blowing. As I was reminded of while sitting in Yom Kippur services yesterday, one of the biggest casualties of using technology as a crutch is with our social relations. Texting, Facebook messaging, and writing e-mails are no substitute for having an actual, personal relationship. Although our real friends are also Facebook friends (unless they don't have an account), that certainly doesn't mean that anyone who is a "Facebook 'friend'" is an actual friend.

What does any of this have to do with Yom Kippur?

One of the fundamentals of Yom Kippur is teshuvah. Although it is commonly mistranslated as "repentance," it literally means "return." When we talk about returning, there is always an indirect object, even if the indirect object is implied. So to what is it we are returning? In essence, we are returning to our good essence. We realize that we are more than our mistakes and errors because the potential we have to perform good acts is quite astounding. In this instance, we have to realize that we are more than our Facebook accounts or [text] messaging interfaces. We are social creatures that need authentic social interactions and intimate relationships to truly live. We are told to choose life over death (Deuteronomy 30:19), and that applies here because when we gravitate towards technology, we have opted for the virtual world instead of the real world. Instead of having a live interaction with another human being and develop intimate relationships with other human beings, it has become simpler to use technology as a form of escapism.

Since a vital part of teshuvah is about examining our lives and relationships, now is as good of a time as any to apply that to technology. A recent study about Facebook shows that one of the primary reasons people are on Facebook as much as they are is because of boredom. Going with the definition that boredom is a pervasive lack of interest in one's surroundings and perceiving them as tiresome or tedious, then one has to deal with this ennui in order not to get sucked into the abyss of technology. With all the pastimes out there, knowledge and subject material to study, and all the forms of live, social interaction, it makes me wonder how anyone can ever be bored. In order to get past this sentiment, we need to be committed to saving ourselves from ourselves. What is the first step? Much like any addiction, the first step is admitting there is a problem. Realize how precious time truly is and make the best of it instead of wasting it in front of a screen.

In this context, "making the best of it" starts by making a concerted effort to limit time on Facebook, on the Internet, and in front of a screen. I'm not advocating to completely remove oneself from technology because in this day and age, that is unfeasible. Nevertheless, there should be some time we should set aside some time to disconnect from cell phones and computers. I find one of the best ways to have a digital detox is Shabbat. Think of it: a whole day where you're not bombarded by e-mails and text messages. Instead, you get to spend that time having authentic interactions with real people. I find that non-usage to be such a tranquil, liberating part of my week--really helps with my blood pressure. If you haven't tried it, I highly recommend it.

After Yom Kippur services, I decided to make a commitment for the year 5774 to spend less time in front of a screen and more time with people. I hope that you join me in choosing the real over the virtual, the authentic and profound over the superficial. In short, I hope that we can all choose life by returning to our true selves.

This blog entry was heavily inspired by a Yom Kippur morning sermon given by R. Taron Tachman. Todah rabah!

Psalm 16:8: Always Having G-d Before Us

I was on the bus today, and my mind could not help but to be fixated on a certain Biblical verse: Psalms 16:8. I was specifically focused on the first half, which says שויתי יהוה לנגדי תמיד, or "I have set G-d before me always." This verse actually shows up on a meditative plaque known as the shiviti (שויתי). I was surprised at how four words in Hebrew could cause so much meditative thought and angst. What sort of message(s) is the שויתי supposed to convey? After contemplating for a while, I came up with a few ideas. 


If we are to look at the verse in context of the entirety of Psalm 16, the overall theme is that of total commitment, which is established within the first four verses. The first verse is peculiar because the speaker is requesting that אל (El) protect the speaker. While אל means G-d in Hebrew, it can also be referring to the Canaanite deity El. This can allude that the speaker in this psalm is actually a convert to Judaism. Regardless of whether the speaker is a convert or King David himself, it is evident that the speaker has rejected the idols and has declared his allegiance to G-d (יהוה) by the fourth verse. 


The theme of commitment resonates through the rest of the psalm and is present in the eighth verse. Asking the question of "What does G-d want" is made clear with the word לנגדי (before me), meaning that what G-d wants supersedes what I want. The notion is echoed in Pirke Avot 2:4. Rabbi Gamliel said "that you are to do the will of G-d as if it were your own so that He will do your will as if it were His will." Per Rabbeinu Yonah's commentary on Pirke Avot 2:4, one should do the will of G-d with the same energy and zeal of his own desires, which is another way of saying "set G-d before you." Rashi's commentary on the Pirke Avot verse suggests that one is to go as far as to sustain a personal loss in order to perform a mitzvah (i.e., His will). 


The Ba'al Shem Tov pointed something of interest out regarding the first word, שויתי. The word שויתי comes from the root שוה, which means "equal" or "even." What has been made equal? Everything in life. Whether we are having a good day or a terrible day, we are to serve G-d with the same alacrity, whose totality is confirmed with the psalm's usage of the word תמיד (always). 


A couple of alternatives arise by using juxtaposition, a sine qua non of Jewish interpretation. The seventh verse mentions kidneys. In the Bible, the kidneys figuratively act as a symbol of emotiveness. In this instance, the kidneys represent the biblical seat of conscience, which is another way of saying "judgement." The verse can be interpreted as a reminder of His omnipresence. By being omnipresent, it reminds us that we should always be "on our best behavior." Looking at the second half of the eight verse, G-d is "at my right hand, and I shall not be moved." Not being moved (בל אמוט) shows that G-d in turn hold us constant. It is a sign of encouragement because G-d is here to hold us steady, even when we're going through turbulent times. 


Postscript: My biggest kvetch here has to be the all-or-nothing mentality. The speaker has what the Chasidim call דבקות, which is cleaving to G-d, 24-7. That is why it is important to take the context of the speaker in mind. The speaker of this Psalm (most likely King David) is an exceptional human being. The human condition makes us imperfect, doubtful, and at times fragile. Especially when the going gets tough, it becomes very difficult to "give it your all." Much like with any goal setting, you have to know where you are right now and the destination (i.e., the goal). Not only that, you have to be aware of the obstacles in the way. There are times in which they can be overcome and times where they cannot. The ideal in Judaism is to be able to have דבקות. However, most of us cannot realistically obtain such a rapport with G-d. Does this mean we give up before even beginning? Absolutely not! Setting G-d before us always does not mean acting 100% perfectly 100% of the time. Such perfection is not human. What we are meant to do is love G-d with our heart, soul, and might (Deuteronomy 6:5). It would be fantastic to achieve perfection, but G-d didn't create us to pull it off, and G-d knows it. That's what makes G-d's mercy so wonderful. He understands and He forgives. So what does "setting G-d before us always" mean? Just be humble enough to realize you're only human and give it your best shot. G-d wouldn't want any less and couldn't expect any more than that.

Spiritual Realism and Passover Cleaning

It's one of my least favorite times of the year: Passover cleaning. You had to clean your abode so thoroughly that there is not a crumb of chametz (חמץ‎‎) left (Exodus 12:19, Deuteronomy 16:4). What is חמץ‎‎? It is the leavened food derived from the five grains (wheat, barley, oat, rye, and spelt) that are forbidden to own or even eat on Passover. 

I am captivated by the comparison between חמץ and מצה (matzah, or unleavened bread). מצה is made of flour and water; so is חמץ. Chemically speaking, the only difference between the two is that the latter is fermented, which puffs the dough into bonafide bread. In slightly different terms, the Jewish tradition compares חמץ to the ego. We are supposed to realize that much like חמץ, our egos create puffed-up illusions. It distorts our sense of humility, and thus our sense of reality. By partaking in the seemingly mundane act of removing חמץ, we remind ourselves to remove the inflated aspects of our ego and to live life based on who we are, nothing more and nothing less.

While I commenced the cleaning process this afternoon, I thought to myself, "Is it possible to fulfill this law to the letter? Can you really get rid of every last crumb of חמץ?" You might think to yourself that there is a theoretical possibility of cleaning your home in its entirety. More than not, guess what gets in the way of a good theory? Putting the theory into practice. 

Think for a moment the level of diligence that would have to be involved to make sure you have completely rid yourself of חמץ. It's not simply a matter of vacuuming the floor once in hopes you sucked up all the crumbs. You have to clean out your cabinets, stove, sinks, oven, and fridge. You have to move your couch and clean behind the couch to make sure nothing fell behind it. You have to clean your dishes and silverware to make sure that there is not a crumb on them. Not only that, but you have to check your clothes to make sure you're clean. Take it a step further: if you want to be that strict, you have to go through every page of every book to make sure there are no crumbs between the pages. 

This level of meticulousness is enough to drive a person crazy, or to put it into Yiddish parlance, משוגע. You might not have the proper lighting to see some חמץ between a certain crevasse. There might be a certain spot in your house that is literally unreachable. Some crumbs might blend into the carpet all too well. The חמץ might come in some form you didn't think or conceive of, such as ethyl alcohol. You might have forgotten to clean a certain area. There might have been a place where you would have not even thought to search for חמץ, such as between book pages. You might have gotten so fed up with the insanely high standards of the project that you abandon the endeavor altogether. 

Translate the previous paragraph into the spiritual realm and try to translate it into our quotidian, spiritual lives. G-d didn't create us as angels. We are human, and as King Solomon (שלמה המלך) reminds us in Ecclesiastes 7:20, "there is no man is so righteous that he doesn't sin." There is going to be something that we don't see, can't see, or have become so discontented that we don't even care to see when dealing with ourselves and the extent to which our egos have become overinflated. 

Does that mean we stop trying? Absolutely not! G-d sets the bar so high not because He wants us to fail, but because He wants us to treat a relationship with Him as a journey, not a destination. At the end of the fifth chapter of Pirke Avot, it says that "according to the effort is the reward." Regardless of where we are in life, we are meant to put in the effort to improve upon our character development. We are meant to get rid of as much spiritual distortions in our lives as possible. 

Much like with our Passover cleaning, our character development will never be 100% perfect. That much should be discerned from common sense. However, by having us clean our houses for חמץ, we are reminded to do our utmost not only in performing ritualistic mitzvot for Him, but also in our relations with others.

A Jewish Perspective on Constructive Humility

I recently came across an intriguing quote about humility that is attributed to Rav Avraham Yitzhak Kook from his book Middot HaRa'aya:

"It is impossible to achieve clarity of understanding except through humility. Humility which brings out a person's sadness is improper humility, but when it is proper, it engenders happiness, inner strength, and self-respect."

Wait a moment, I thought that humility had to do with being low and meek, especially considering that a) the word "humility" comes from the Latin word humilitas, and b) the word is associated with "humiliation" in English. For many, the word "humility" has almost a negative connotation, where people who are humble let people walk all over them like a doormat. But the Torah (Numbers 12:3) says that Moses "very humble," or ענו מאד. Moses was a great leader who had to tend to the needs of thousands of Jews. He even stood up to G-d on no less than two occasions! We don't associate great leaders with meekness, so something has to be awry with this view of humility.

Meekness leads to self-debasement, which is an extreme I am sure we would all rather avoid. Arrogance is also an extreme because such conceit leads to a narcissistic, hyper-inflated ego that is not based on reality. Both self-debasement and arrogance are extremes. The former is an extreme of modesty, whereas the latter is an extreme of pride.

So what is humility?

As Alan Morinis points out in his book Everyday Holiness (p. 50), "Humility is not an extreme quality, but rather a balanced, moderate accurate understanding of yourself that you act on in your life. That's why humility and self-esteem go in hand." Humility is a balancing act between one's modesty and one's pride. 

With this definition, connecting humility to something such as happiness considerably makes more sense. Humility brings you self-knowledge, which brings about self-awareness. By being self-aware, you have a healthy, intact ego. You know who you are, from where you came, and to where you are going. Knowing yourself and being honest with yourself means you are not prone to having distorted views about yourself or others. Things such as flattery or other people's approval will have no power because you already know where you are, which means you are less dependent on what others think of you because again, you are already aware. 

A practice I have found to be effective in cultivating such humility is from Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Pshischa. He carried two notes, one in either pocket. The first said "I am dust and ashes (Genesis 18:27)." The second said "For my sake alone was the world was created (Mishna Sanhedrin 4:5)." We balance ourselves between knowing that in comparison to G-d, who is Infinite Oneness, we will not be here that long, and knowing that because we are created in His Image, our lives have meaning because we have purpose to fulfill. This near-paradoxical concept is what keeps me more balanced. I know that I should not pretend to be greater than I am, but not deny that I my self-worth. It is the sort of self-truth that we can all cultivate in order to lead more constructive lives. 

Why Jews Should Still Lament and Fast on Tisha B'Av

I have always had a difficult time with Tisha B'Av.  For me, Judaism has been a forward-looking, optimistic worldview.  To have a day in which one would self-induce sadness seems counter-intuitive, to say the least.  I have found it even more difficult to observe Tisha B'Av since much like Maimonides (Guide for the Perplexed, III, xxxii), I have viewed the sacrificial system as a temporary concession to man's nature of clinging to that which one is accustomed.  I have no reason to mourn the loss of what I, as well as a majority of Jews, view as an ancient, insipid relic of the past.

For nearly two millennia, Judaism has survived without the sacrificial system because it has found ways to adapt to the loss of the Second Temple.  I dare say that Judaism has fared better without the sacrificial system in place. 

What's more is that for the first time in Jewish history, Jews not only have a nation-state, but also have a united Jerusalem.  This holiday has seemed to lose its edge at least since the unification of Jerusalem in 1967, if not during the creation of the state of Israel in 1948.  Even the Jews in the Diaspora have overall been emancipated and granted equal rights.  Have we reached a point where Judaism has lost the need for Tisha B'Av?  Can we discard it as an antiquated custom and confine it to the history books?

Although it appears as if there would be no reason to actually observe Tisha B'Av, I have to acquiesce that there might be reason to still observe, even if I have to do so reluctantly.  King Solomon said (Ecclesiastes 3:4) that there is a time to weep and a time to laugh.  But why weep?  Even though Jews have made considerable progress since the pre-Enlightenment days, Tisha B'Av is not a time to rejoice over progress made, but rather to lament over progress that has yet to be made.

We still live in a world with rampant anti-Semitism.  Although America offers unprecedented amounts of religious freedom in the Diaspora, anti-Semitism has not been this high on a worldwide level since pre-WWII.  What makes it worse is that it is coming from all walks of life, whether that would be the academic Left, the Islamic fundamentalists, or certain sects of right-winged Christianity. 

We still live in a world with abject poverty.  In Israel, nearly one in five lives below the poverty line.  The welfare system in Israel is immense.  The current protests in Israel demanding "social justice" are indicative of that fact.  Maybe we fast on Tisha B'Av is a reminder that there are hunger issues to be resolved in the Jewish community, let alone the entire world.

We still live in a world in which Israel is constantly threatened.  Teaching hatred of Jews is still an essential part of the curriculum in Palestinian public schools.  Iran is building nuclear arms, which would most likely be used to annihilate Israel.  Even the cold peace with Egypt has been beginning to thaw.  The Jewish people might have a nation-state, but national security is anything but set in stone.  As such, we still need to fast.

We still live in a world with a disunited Jewry.  What brought about the destruction of the Second Temple?  Baseless hatred between one's fellow Jew.  We see this tension in the State of Israel between the Religious Right and the Secular Left.  The Diaspora, most notably in America, has a similar tension between Orthodox and non-Orthodox.  The politicization of Judaism and Jewry continues to perpetuate the disunification of the Jewish people that has existed since the falling of the Second Temple. 

In short, do not feel sadness for some nostalgia that most likely never fully occurred with regards to the Second Temple in the first place.  Be sad because the Jewish world is still in a state of tension and strife, or to put it in more religious parlance, messianic prophecies have yet to be fulfilled.   There are still those who hate Jews.  There are still enemies that threaten the nation-state that took so much work to build.  Even internally, both in the land of Israel and amongst Jewry, Jews constantly deal with internal conflicts. 

However, this should not bring us to meekness or a sense of futility.  It should be a time of the year to look at our more communal issues and bring awareness to this "harsh reality."  King Solomon was correct that there is a time to weep.  But we should be so moved by the fact that this is our current reality that we should be inspired to change it.

Tisha B'Av is a time of awareness for Jews.  Jews need to be aware of how tragedies have befallen upon them in the past.  But also, there needs to be a directive towards learning from those downfalls and figuring out how we can apply them to the current situation.  With that level of awareness, we can confidently head in a better direction. 

Why Jews Need to Take It Easy with Tikkun Olam

For many in the American Jewish community, tikkun olam (literally meaning "repairing the world") has become synonymous with social action.  Ask a majority of Jews the most important facet of their Jewish identity, and you'll find that is embodied in the modern-day concept of tikkun olam.   Wanting to repair the world certainly has a loftiness to it. 

Why should I want to criticize people who make the world a better place?  

My first issue is with the history of the concept.  Jews tend to think that tikkun olam as we know it is a centuries-old tradition that we are just continuing in the modern age.  That is actually false.  When first mentioned in the Mishnah, it was in the context of halachic regulation, usually with property rights or other legal disputes.  The next time it appears is in the Aleinu prayer, but in the sense that G-d, not man, will ultimately fix the world.  The third time it shows up in a Jewish context is in Lurianic Kabbalah.  However, the mystical concept of repairing the shattering of the ten sefirot by diligently performing mitzvot.  In short, the tikkun olam that we know is a movement largely manifesting itself from the Civil Rights movement and the anti-war movement during the Vietnam War.

Jews have not only adapted to surrounding cultures, but have created innovations as a result.  I would attribute this feature as one of the major factors in Jewish survival.  Therefore, innovation should not be a reason to negate tikkun olam.  However, when you dress up "progressive" "social" "justice" in the guise of it being the ultimate expression of Judaism, I have a problem with it.  And if you're wondering the need for all those quotation marks in the previous sentence, it would have to do something with the misnomer about progressivism actually being progressive.  There is nothing progressive about stymieing economic growth and perpetuating poverty.

This "social" "justice" is not exactly as Jewish as one would think.  The issue is that the tikkun olam makes the fallacious assumption that "progressivism" is Judaism, when in fact it is not.  Judaism has an appreciation for free markets and property rights.  Judaism condones owning firearms in the name of self-defense.    Although I recognize that Judaism does have a sense of communal responsibility, the way that many Jews present tikkun olam is that it is either the "progressive" way or the highway.

When Leftist Jews chide conservative Christians for mixing religion with politics, they really should look in the mirror and realize how much they are calling the kettle black.  

In spite of the politicization of tikkun olam, my main issue with the tikkun olam movement is they have bitten off more they can chew, and in the process, have left Yiddishkeit in disarray.   The thought behind the inception of the tikkun olam movement that this would be the form of Judaism that would transcend the particularism and tribalism of Judaism. "Who needs rituals like kashrut or Shabbos," they thought.  To quote the Beatles, "All you need is love."  

Needless to say, tikkun olam backfired in terms of making Jews more Jewish.  Approximately 90% of American Jews do not consider themselves Orthodox.  Most don't keep kosher or Shabbat on any level (some would be better than none!).  You're lucky if many Jews attend High Holiday services, let alone Shabbos services.  Not only that, you think the tikkun olam would make for more "Jewish volunteerism."  Wrong!  Looking at a recent study done by Brandeis University, most Jews do not care if they volunteer for a Jewish organization or not, and you can tell from the results of the study that Judaism is not real high on the priority list.    

There is a lot to worry about in terms of Jewish survival.  It's not just the birth rate being below replacement [outside of the Orthodox world] that worries me.  The creation of Birthright also worries me.  The reason Birthright exists in the first place is because so many Jews my age have such a disconnect with Judaism.       

Before you try to fix problems in communities far away, you should first make sure that your own house is in order.  Judaism faces a serious PR issue, which is why so many Jews cling to tikkun olam.  Many see Judaism as insipid, antiquated, and irrelevant, none of which are true.   Rabbis aren't inspiring congregants like they used to, congregants aren't putting enough subtle pressure on fellow congregants to partake in a more Jewish life, parents aren't instilling Judaism into their children, and Jewish institutions aren't exactly helping with this decay of Jewish life.  Trust me, there's plenty of blame to go around.  

That is why I make a call for Jews to come back to keeping kosher, learning Hebrew, studying Torah, or observing Shabbos.  We should certainly keep up the dialogue as to what is considered "good observance."  Even if you do it on your own terms, something is better than nothing.  In essence, we not only need to be human beings, but need to also be Jews in the same process.  

Finally, this is not a call to abandon Jewish values such as justice or loving-kindness.  I'm not even going to do something like tell you to stop do such acts of loving-kindness as giving tzedakah or showing hospitality because these are also practices deeply rooted in Judaism.  I'm asking that Jews don't take on so much that they spiritually feel burnt out.  I'm asking that Jews think globally and act locally.  

I'd like to close with an anecdote about the Chofetz Chaim.  It was said that he wanted to try to help the entire world, but realized he couldn't.  He wanted to help out all of the people Israel and realized he couldn't.  He wanted to even help out his own community and realized that he couldn't.  Even with his own family, he came to the same realization.  However, he started by helping himself, and from there he made a huge impact on Jewry and Judaism.   If we repair the world in smaller, more manageable, more tangible doses than the tikkun olam movement does, then we will one day see the world truly repaired.

Hypocrisy vs Inconsistency: A Different Perspective on Religious Life

This is one of those fun charges that atheists and anti-religious people like to throw at me. Essentially, it goes something like this: the morals and standards espoused by religion cannot realistically be reached by man because they are too high to be obtained on a consistent basis. Therefore, there is an innate hypocrisy in even trying to be religious.

I cannot begin to tell you how obnoxious this is to hear. This doesn't even touch upon the veracity of those standards or what it even means to have standards in the first place. But because I hold myself to higher standards that I cannot consistenly keep, does that make me a hypocrite?

Obviously, a simple reply of "no" will not suffice, which is why I find it to be important to differentiate between hypocrisy and inconsistency.

Let's outline a textbook example of hypocrisy. You have a fundamentalist Christian from the Religious Right. He tells you that homosexuality is a sin because of Leviticus 18:22. He is the one that Bible-beats you at services every Sunday about it. He is the one protesting any gay pride rally. He is the one who constantly espouses "family values." But his life behind closed doors tells another story. You later find out that not only does he cruise gay bars, but he actually is cheating on his wife with a male lover.

When you are beraiding others for doing something that you yourself are doing, that is hypocrisy. You really have no place in constantly chiding another individual or group of people for a flaw that you have. It's just not right.

Inconsistency, on the other hand, is a whole different matter because it does not predicate itself on the all-or-nothing mentality that religious fundamentalists hold dear.

In my humility, I recognize that I am an imperfect being. I have made mistakes in the past and I am sure that I will err in the future. Does this mean I shouldn't have standards? No! Does this diminish the fact that I hold myself to higher standards? Absolutely not! The whole premise of Judaism, or even religion in general, is to cultivate yourself into being a better human being. It's what I like to call minimizing the gap between our imperfections and perfection. The difference between me and the hypocrite is recognizing where I am in life, where I am going, and how to minimize the aforementioned gap. It won't be progress and perfection all the time. I'm sure there will be some relapses in my life or certain reactions that simply will not be pretty.

With this mentality, it's much easier to judge others becuase then you realize that you would like to be judged at least as likely as you would be if the roles were reversed. I'm here in this life to do my best and I cannot do anything more than that. I find it to be a healthy approach to imperfections. What's more is that I find it the best way to be honest with myself. That way, my relations, whether with myself, other people, or G-d, can be done with the most positive sense of integrity possible.

Was Glenn Beck Right About Reform Judaism? You Bet He Was!

A couple of days ago, Glenn Beck had compared Reform Judaism to Fundamentalism Islam.  The comparison that Beck had made was that "both were more about 'politics' - changing what is outside of oneself - rather than about 'religion' - changing what it inside of oneself."  As Haaretz reports, Beck continues with saying that “When you talk about rabbis, understand that most people who are not Jewish don't understand that there are the Orthodox rabbis and then there are the Reformed (sic) rabbis. Reformed rabbis are generally political in nature. It's almost like Islam - radicalized Islam - in a way to where radicalized Islam is less about religion than it is about politics."

As if it were a surprise, the Jewish Left was outraged, especially when you consider that a plurality of Jews in this country consider themselves a part of the Reform Movement.  Even Abe Foxman of the Anti-Defamation League came out and accused Beck of bigoted ignorance.  Forget for a moment that the man is a political pundit, and his career is predicated on "shock value" and boosting ratings.  This is how a political pundit, no matter which side, earns a living.  But more so, he actually apologized for his comments:

I am all but certain that an apology from Glenn Beck will not suffice for the Left.  Nothing short of him burning in effigy will do.  That previous comment might seem a bit harsh, but to give that a bit more context, I want to go back to the underlying impetus of the comments made in the first place, and ask the question: Is Reform Judaism about politics?  And with that, I can answer with an unequivocal "Yes!"

First of all, I base this on personal experience.  I used to be a part of the Reform Movement.  Just to give you an idea of what I tolerated, here are three examples of Reform sermons, on the High Holy Days of all times, through which I sat.  One was a "sermon" that was essentially fifteen minutes of Bush-bashing.  The rabbi blamed Bush from everything from the housing bubble bursting to Hurricane Katrina.  How a mere mortal has the ability to control natural occurrences is beyond me, but for someone that ingrained in Left-winged politics, anything is possible.  The second one that comes to mind was a sermon that basically stated that Islamaphobia is a right-winged phenomenon because, well, the Right is racist and hateful, hence why I wrote this blog entry.  Then there was that one about how making sure Obamacare gets passed through Congress was a moral obligation for Jews everywhere.

And if you have any views that lean right of center, you might as well not bother announcing those.  That would get you in as much trouble as if you were a homosexual coming out at the RNC. Institutionally speaking, the Reform Movement is not all that keen on normative Jewish practice.  The Reform Movement is by far the most liberal of all the main denominations.  You'd be lucky to find a teshuva of theirs that actually takes any halacha into consideration.  Why?  Because personal autonomy is still very much lauded in the Reform community.  That, and Left-winged politics is the ultimate arbitrator for the Reform Movement.  If you think that's a stretch, look at the Religious Action Center, the Reform Movement's political arm.  Whether it's abortion rights, gun control, fair trade vs. free trade, or even minimum wage (!), you can be guaranteed that institutionally speaking, the Reform Movement is unapologetically to the Left.  There is no debate about the merits of capitalism, gun ownership, and limited government.  No, no, heaven forbid!  The Reform presents Leftist thought as the Jewish perspective.  To paraphrase Norman Podhoretz, Reform Jews, and any Jew on the Left, worship the Torah of Liberalism, not the Torah of Judaism.

Although Glenn Beck did not enunciate his point as clearly as I would have liked, he was correct.  Reform Jews equate liberalism with Judaism.  Jews in general have leaned Left for years, and that's no secret.  I understand that Beck apologized for purposes of public relations, and I am sure that anyone in his situation would have done so to have avoided further heat.  For Left-leaning, secular Jews, liberalism is their religion.  That would be why the tendency towards secular liberals in general is to have a beef with someone of differing political views, simply because Left-winged politics is their raison d'être.  

You want to know something?  I know a lot of Reform Jews.  I know they would never blow up a building in the name of Hashem or have disrespect for other people for "not being part of the tribe."  A good majority are hard-working, decent folk.  Some I even consider as if they were family.  However, I also know that most Reform Jews are not "observant."  Mitzvot and Jewish practice as part a modus operandi are either exceptionally minimal or non-existent for the typical Reform Jew.  That's just common knowledge within the Jewish community.

To have Reform Judaism monolithically present its politics under the guise of religion is disingenuous, to say the least.  Politics come before G-d or Torah in the Reform Movement, and I was exceptionally content to see that Glenn Beck called it like it is.

Jews Should Learn Hebrew

You would think that the title of this blog is a no-brainer, that all Jews should already know Hebrew, or at the very least, have picked it up in Hebrew School.  Sadly enough, there are more than enough Jews out there that are lucky if they even know the letter א.  Just a few reasons to explain the phenomenon:

• Learning a foreign language is difficult.  Although some people might sincerely not have the time to do it, most people are just too lazy to see the commitment through to the end.  This lethargy has gotten so bad that, as Yehuda Mirsky points out, that it has had even Orthodox Jews depend on translations from Ultra-Orthodox publisher ArtScroll.
• A lot of Jews grow up in secular households.  Unless that secular household is in Israel, the secular parents are surely not going to be teaching their children about the "holy language" of Hebrew.
• Even in a place such as 21st-century America, there are many Jews that do not want to broadcast the fact that they are Jews.  If anybody found out that they knew Hebrew, it would send up a red flag.  This is all the more true in other countries in the Diaspora where Jewish rights receive little to no protection.
• Globalism is at work.  Most American Jews are secular and on the Left.  Because they are on the Left, they would rather view themselves just as members of the greater global community than self-associate as Jews.  For these Jews, Judaism is too nationalistic, too bound in tradition, and thus needs to dissapear from their lives.  And along with the particularlism of Judaism goes the Hebrew language.

I have found the Jewish people to be a particular case study when it comes to anthropology.  Up until 1948, Jews have not had a homeland for nearly two millennia, and 60% of Jews currently live outside of Israel.  Many Jews don't affiliate with Judaism.  There are different cultural strains in Judaism, such as the Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Yemenites, etc.  And to "put the cherry on top," we don't even have a common language!  With nothing to bind the Jewish people together, it's not only difficult to see how they can been perceived as a people, but also I can see that their continued survival can come off as a miracle.

With this in mind, we should look at, more than ever, why Jews should learn Hebrew.  First and foremost, it is the language of our forefathers and has been the predominant language of the Jewish people, languages such as Yiddish and Ladino notwithstanding.  I am not worried about the Jewish people becoming extinct, per se.  After all, we've made it this long, and I don't see the Jewish people perishing.  But I am worried about the continuity and relevance of Judaism [and the Jewish people] in the 21st-century, which is why a common language would be a good place for all Jews to start.  

Even if secular Jews are not going to become observant Jews overnight, we need a commonality to bind us together.  That means meeting someone and saying "I'm Jewish.  You're Jewish??  Awesome!" is not going to suffice.

Second, this is about being able to tap into a rich heritage.  A majority of the main religious texts, as well as secular Israeli texts, have been written in Hebrew.  Just speaking from experience, but much gets lost in translation.  No matter the sources available to the translator, there are certain words in one language that just won't translate over to the other.  To read a translation without the original text in plain view is to put your faith in the translator.  In order to be able to enjoy the full extent of the profundity and richness of the Jewish experience, there's no way around this one, but you will need to learn Hebrew.