There I was at the seder table at Passover looking just like
the Zayde in the picture book. Long beard, white robe. I looked at the book and saw what Zayde was
proclaiming with such great glee and I was more than a little
disappointed. The book allows for an
ambiguous reading.
"The bad goyim have always wanted to kill the Yidden." “Bad Goyim” here could mean bad non-Jews who want to kill Yidden versus good non-Jews who do not or
simply that Goyim are by definition bad and want to “kill out” (Yeshivish for
genocidal murder) the Yidden (Yiddish for Jews). I believe the intent of the Hagadah is the first. There are indeed those in every generation who may hate Jews and despise our the ethical monotheism we stand for and try to destroy us and our message. God protects us and our mission from ultimate destruction. I deeply believe that. At the same time, I think most children would read the words as "Goyim are bad and always want to kill Jews."
It is a familiar formulation of Jewish history.
They hate us and want to kill us.
The “they” is interchangeable. If we have friends among the nations for
a time, they will one day be our enemies.
As Rashi brings down in his commentary on Genesis 33:4 “Halacha b'yadu'a Esav soneh l'Yaakov “ “It is the law and well-known that Esau hates
Jacob.” The enmities between Jacob and
Esau, Jews and the European World, and Isaac and
Ishmael, The Jews and Muslims, are eternal unchangeable facts of life and our
history proves it. (Rashi, on the other hand, probably was commenting on the relationship of two brothers not presenting a template for history)
Even the gentile prophet Bilaam confirmed it.
As I see them from the mountain tops,
Gaze on them from the heights,
Behold it is a people that dwells alone,
Not reckoned among the nations. (Num. 23: 9)
A people that dwells alone!
We a
lonely, pariah nation with no friends, no allies, perpetually hated and under
siege.
In an
important essay*, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks shares what he calls an "epiphany" in which he realizes how dangerous this thinking can be and has been for the Jewish people.
He writes;
"If
you define yourself as the people that dwells alone, you are likely to find
yourself alone. That
is not a safe place to be."
The Talmud explains that Bilaam’s blessings were really curses. To be alone and isolated is no blessing. Indeed, as Rabbi Sacks, points out one of
G-d’s first comments to man is “Its not good for man to be alone.”
Rabbi
Sacks takes his point further,
"To be different is not necessarily to be alone. Indeed, it is only by being what we uniquely are that we contribute to
humankind what we alone can give. Singular, distinctive,
countercultural – yes: these are part of the Jewish condition. But alone? No.
That is not a blessing but a curse."
This
vision of the world, our despised isolation and the inevitability of Jew hatred colors everything from our
personal interactions to Israeli foreign
policy.
We have
no real friends, only eternal enemies in the guise of fair-weather allies. The drive to isolation can look like the cowering ghettos of pre-war Europe or like the militaristic bravado of contemporary Jewish politics. Whether on the defense or the offense, that internalized sense of perpetual siege leaves us stunted and twisted.
Given this vision of the world we are lead to two social strategies, isolation or
assimilation. We can either segregate
ourselves and protect our fragile world under siege or avoid the hate by giving
up our identity. The latter strategy is
pretty successful in the United States, it would seem. But so it seemed to some
in Germany as well. When the Nazis came
to power even the most assimilated German Jew was not safe. As we are often warned, “You just wait. It
can happen here too!” Neither isolation or assimilation are reliable refuge.
Isolation
leaves us alone and vulnerable. Assimilation leaves us gone.
What is the third option? We in the
United States, at least, have the option of living robust, happy, enthusiastically
observant Jewish lives while actively engaging our non-Jewish friends and
neighbors in such a way as to help them appreciate who we are and what we stand
for. Jewish life need not be a mystery.
How many of your non-Jewish colleagues have any idea what Shabbat means to
you? Do they know why you keep
kosher? Do they know what kind of God
you believe in? In my experience, most
non-Jews know little about Judaism or what it means to be Jewish.
Walls of distrust come down when people share
who they are. In the strength of our own identity and groundedness in faith, we are able to be open to others
and to discover common values and concerns.
We can embrace the simple human beauty that the Torah boldly calls being
in “the image of G-d” (so to speak)
Won’t this lead to assimilation? Aren’t
friendships and relationships just the precursors to assimilation and
intermarriage. Maybe. Yet the walls of distrust have not prevented
assimilation. It was this isolation that has driven the vast majority of Jewish
people away from out faith. They left
the isolation but they took some with them. Ironically many very assimilated
Jews prefer to live in fear that one day they will be “outed” or to identify
with Israel’s plight as the “pariah” among
nation-states. They prove everyday that you can be assimilated and still
be alone.
What
prevents assimilation is the opportunity to live an authentic and happy Jewish
life, fiercely proud of who you are and bold about sharing what you believe and
what you care about. It is to live, as
much as possible, without fear. It is to preserve our tradition because it is
precious not because we believe that it is in perpetual jeopardy at the hands
of our non-Jewish neighbors.
I don’t deny there is plenty of genuine Jew-hatred in the world. This year, in the wake of horrific attacks on
Jews in Europe, no one would say there is not.
I don’t know that you can cure anti-Semitism completely but I do know
that you can refuse to let it make you sick. Being hated is not an identity for
a healthy people.
Rabbi
Sacks writes;
"To be a Jew is to be loved by God; it is not to be hated by Gentiles. Our
ancestors were called on to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” The
word kadosh, “holy,” means set apart. But there is a
profound difference between being apart and being alone…"
This Zayde too raises his voice and beams with pride at his family and celebrates his Jewishness. I too will assure my children of the survival and thriving of the Jewish people. I too will affirm my faith in God and gratitude for the mission He has given us. I will tell them that embracing
our holiness means re-embracing our mission to be a “light unto the nations” not in some patronizing way but in the way of
teachers, friends and colleagues. It means to share the wisdom of Torah and to be willing to hear its echoes in the voices of other peoples, other nations and even other
faiths.
*http://www.rabbisacks.org/covenant-conversation-5771-balak-a-people-that-dwells-alone/
