Judaism Belongs to All of Us
As a girl who grew up in a secular environment, the biggest fear of the society that surrounded me was that I would become religious. Religious coercion is a word that was used a lot when the discussion about Bible class at school came up, or when I had a conversation with people with a religious outlook or appearance. The first time I was exposed to religious people on a large scale was at the age of 14; I started dancing in Ra’anana, where a large part of the population is Modern Orthodox. The world of religion has always interested me, but at the same time, I have never been interested in being religious. I felt that I was exposed to the culture and people of which I am a part, from a different angle, a historical angle. But since I am secular, my environment continued to raise an eyebrow every time I chose to study more and join programs that included religious and secular people.
Judaism, in a rather unique way, is both a religion and a nation (ethno-religion), a culture and a language. Attributing it only to religious people does an injustice to our people, who are made up of different and diverse lifestyles but united around the same historical affiliation. Throughout history, Jews have suffered, whether they were more or less religious, simply because they were Jews. When did we become a society that is afraid of its own history and, even more importantly, why?
When I tried to think about what led to this, I couldn’t ignore the fact that there is no separation between church and state in Israel, and that many core issues are structured in the Orthodox way (i.e., marriage and divorce, conversion, and burial). For many people, it feels coercive and creates antagonism because they would have preferred to live their lives according to their own way. I can completely relate to that. Who wants to be forced to do something in their private life?
For many years, I thought that by being Israeli, I was as Jewish as possible. But I once heard a phrase that has stayed with me to this day: “There is a Jewish price for being Israeli.” It took me a while to understand the phrase and how much I identify with it. When you grow up Jewish anywhere else in the world, the decision to live a Jewish lifestyle is conscious and often requires all kinds of sacrifices. Judaism is a culture and tradition, no less than a religion. You can come to prayer at the synagogue on Friday, but arrive by car. You can celebrate Hanukkah and celebrate Christmas. The connection to religion is much more enabling. I believe the separation of religion and state makes this possible. At the end of the day, the New York subway will run on Shabbat. If the Haredim don’t go to work, the state won’t give them an allowance. The lack of separation in Israel causes a lot of friction and aversion to the culture and tradition, it leads to appropriation of Judaism by the religious and harms, at least on the psychological level, the secular sense of belonging to Judaism.
I think this separation and reluctance stem from the ‘price the seculars pay’ also creates fear. The fear of the unconscious, the fear of the other and the different, the fear that what I hear may change my perception or my way of life. This fear of the “secular” from the possibility of becoming religious causes fear of Judaism, of history, and tradition. After all, if we are so sure of our secularism, why do I care to hear about Judaism?
I can give another example: I grew up in a home where alcohol wasn’t taboo. My parents drank openly at dinners and events, and I tasted it without pressure. This made me unbothered when friends drank or got drunk later, as it was something I was already familiar with.
Now it is true that the examples may not be the same, but they get the point across. As something is forbidden, we tend to want to get it. This contrasts with when something is familiar and known; every time I see it, my worldview and lifestyle won’t be undermined. Exposure to a variety of opinions and lifestyles will help me make an informed choice about the lifestyle I lead and will allow me to have a dialogue with people who are different and reduce polarization.
The rejection of Judaism is just an example of our difficulty and fear as people in a diverse society to acknowledge different opinions, whether they arouse antagonism in us or whether they may change who we are. But the more we are exposed to different opinions, the stronger our opinion on the subject can be, and perhaps it is even okay to change our opinion and perception. We don’t have to be afraid of it; that’s part of life. So, the next time you hear something about Judaism, I invite you to challenge yourself, stop for a moment, and listen with the understanding that Judaism is not only a religious system, but also a shared cultural and historical framework that, in different ways, belongs to all of us.
