The rift quakes

Lawlessness, Morality, and Community Dynamics

Over the past fifteen years, the spiritual life of Jewish communities, both in Israel and the diaspora, has faced a profound transformation. This evolution stems from deeper societal issues—namely lawlessness, a dogged conviction to be “right,” and a fragmented sense of community. As these issues unfold, they reveal themselves as both a continuation of historical struggles and a fresh challenge for contemporary Jewish identity.

To understand the present, we must revisit the past developments. The Jewish narrative is marked by forced migrations, expulsions, and existential threats, events that have significantly impacted communal identity. The expulsion from Spain in the 15th century and the tragic events during the Holocaust serve as pivotal moments that shaped not just demographics but the collective psyche of Jews globally. Post-World War II, many Jews fled from most of the Arab countries, where they had lived for millennia, marking a “hemorrhage” of Jewish culture and spirituality from those regions.

These events have led to waves of aliyah (immigration to Israel) at times and have reinforced a sense of urgency regarding Jewish survival and continuity. The transitional nature of Jewish existence—once a mosaic of European and Middle Eastern communities—has become increasingly complex in light of political and social upheaval all over the globe.

Fast forward to the twenty-first century, we observe a split among Jewish communities worldwide. This fragmentation manifests in various forms, including self-declared groups and individuals who identify with unique interpretations of Jewish laws and cultures. Such divisions often lead to a sense of competition over who embodies “true” Judaism, thereby undermining the collective ethos that has traditionally bound Jews together.

Moreover, the moral underpinnings of Jewish law, the Yoke of the Mitzvot/עול המצות, are facing scrutiny in an environment where individualistic interpretations can dilute community ethics. The commandment to assist one’s neighbors and those in danger appears weakening in the face of increasing mistrust and animosity, particularly in regions experiencing persistent conflicts. The redeeming of the captives is at the heart of the moral and spiritual duties. But this ideological divide raises fundamental questions about the role of compassion and moral accountability within Jewish life.

The current geopolitical landscape exacerbates these divisions, particularly the ongoing conflict involving Israel. The absence of moral clarity amid acts of violence and hatred reflects a broader crisis of conscience. The ongoing struggle for survival leads some to adopt a posture of defensiveness, while others remain committed to the tenets of compassion and community. This moral discord raises concerns about the future of Jewish ethical frameworks, particularly in the context of rising antisemitism and political polarization.

There is an urgent need for Jewish communities to grapple with their present reality while also considering their historical legacy. The modern struggle requires a re-examination of Jewish values—a call to return to the foundational aspects of community, justice, and kindness that define Jewish life. Elders and leaders must navigate the delicate balance between self-preservation and the ethical mandates intrinsic to Judaism.

A collective commitment to dialogue, understanding, and mutual assistance can bridge the rifts that have developed in recent years. Encouraging meaningful conversations around these critical issues, within and across communities, could lead to a stronger, united Jewish identity that honors its past while adapting to present challenges.

In summary, while historical trauma and modern conflicts have catalyzed divisions within Jewish communities, they also present an opportunity for profound reflection and renewal. The journey towards a cohesive and compassionate Jewish identity is not just a matter of survival; it is a commitment to embodying the moral and ethical principles that have long been the bedrock of Jewish civilization born to the Middle-Eastern cradle of Sumer and the early legal systems of Mesopotamia.. This means that engaging in this transformative process reevaluates not only how Jews perceive themselves but how they connect with the world around them—centered in compassion, justice, and a shared commitment to the future.

In the complex tapestry of Jewish history, the reflections of great leaders and thinkers often provide a lens through which we can understand our past and present. One such leader, Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak Kook (Rav Kook), laid the philosophical groundwork that would resonate through generations. His teachings inspired many, including Manitou, the renowned French Rabbi Léon Yehudah Askenazi who taught that he “first was a Hebrew” and wanted to reconnect with these “going-over, positively transgressing” attitudes. Both men grappled with the evolving nature of Jewish identity, particularly in the context of European life and its fraught relationship with the Jewish people.

Manitou/Rav Léon Yehudah Askenazi believed that the reinvigoration of Jewish life in Europe would not be without challenges, and perhaps its most disturbing feature would be the specter of renewed persecution. History has shown that, for many Jews, Europe was both a cradle of culture and a theater of suffering. The seeds of Jewish redemption, he believed, were consistently undermined by the hostile environment in which they were planted. As Jews attempted to reclaim their cultural and spiritual heritage, they found themselves increasingly marginalized and pushed away from the vibrant cultural mosaics of the continent.

The conflict between the revival of Jewish identity and the threat of persecution created a tension that was palpable. Manitou observed that the more Jews sought to integrate and flourish in accordance to the local, regional “dina de makhuta dina/דינא דמלכותא דינא, the more the surrounding cultures resisted and demonized them. Thus, ‘the law of the Government is law’, or “the law of the land is the law” is a principle inJewish religious and legal system of rules that the civil law of the country is binding upon the Jewish inhabitants of that country, and, in certain cases, is to be preferred to Jewish law. The concept of “dina de-malkhuta dina” (Aramaic) is similar to the concept of  confronting the sets of legal decisions to other ruling systems.

Rav Léon Yehudah Askenazi’s prophetic foresight suggested that increased visibility and participation in European life would lead to new forms of hostility, echoing the violent past that had displaced so many Jews from their homes.

Manitou’s thoughts were not merely a reflection on Europe’s past; they were also a commentary on the present. He discerned a pattern of “hemorrhaging”—not just the physical displacement of Jews from their homes, but an erosion of their cultural and spiritual identity. The term “hemorrhage” aptly describes the painful and often violent exodus of Jews from various European nations, many of whom sought refuge in the very land that had become a beacon of hope: Israel.

This perspective, shared by many contemporary rabbis, took on an even deeper resonance as we witnessed the struggles of Jews from the former Soviet Union. Their migration illustrated a continuation of the historical narrative: Jews again traveling the difficult paths of exile, echoing the past in their search for safety and belonging and moving from spaces to other spaces like a flowing remaining ark.

This latest movement reaffirmed Manitou’s insights: that as Jews confront new realities, they often find themselves facing the same age-old challenges of exile, persecution, and cultural dislocation.

In light of these challenges, Manitou as all of the present-day Jewish scholars emphasized the importance of the true practice of Mitzvot as a foundation for Jewish life. He posited that in facing adversity, the Jewish people must return to their roots and embrace the realm Commandments and the life-giving sources of the Oral Law as a means of sustaining their identity and ensuring their survival. The Mitzvot are not mere rituals but are imbued with deep significance. They are relevant as the lifeline that connects the Jewish people to their history, their community, and the divine.

As contemporary Jewish scholars and rabbis join this discourse, it becomes clear that the call to Mitzvot is more than a response to persecution.

It is a proactive measure to cultivate resilience, unity, and hope. In a world that can seem hostile or indifferent, the practice of the Mitzvot fosters a sense of belonging and purpose, reminding Jews of their unique role in the world.

Manitou’s reflections echo the ongoing struggles within Jewish communities today. The historical lessons of persecution and the persistent challenge of defining Jewish identity in a tumultuous world continue to resonate. As we navigate the complexities of modern life, it is vital for Jews to reflect on their spiritual heritage and embrace the practice of Mitzvot as a tool for resilience and renewal.

In the face of adversity, we are called to remember that our commitment to our traditions and values can serve as a beacon of light—even amidst the darkest times. It is not merely about surviving; it is about flourishing as a people bound by history, faith, and unwavering hope for redemption. The teachings of figures like the modern and traditional scholars remind us that, while the road may be fraught with challenges, it is also replete with the potential for renewal, connection, and ultimately, the realization of our sacred purpose.

Today’s challenge is that the Mitzvot may be taught and studied along the year, all days and night. They may be known and referred to with much insights and piety.The Sadducees served as a cautionary tale. They focused on the letter of the Law, often missing the spirit and deeper meanings embedded within the Mitzvot. This risk remains today; practicing rituals without understanding can lead to a hollow experience that lacks true connection and respect for the richness of life.

Subsequently it reduces faith and morals to repeated acts and, as time passes it drifts away from the real respect that the Words  and Utterances revive all souls, animals, creatures, creation. It is a huge issue at present. We may pratice and not believe. We may know and not understand. We may explain and not be listened to. We may get the Words and not be able to match them with the chains of history, of the generations.

The dichotomy between practice and belief highlights a common struggle in modern religious life. It’s crucial to engage not just in the act of observing all the Commandments, but to cultivate the belief and understanding that underlie these practices. This means fostering an environment where questions and doubts can be expressed and explored, creating a deeper understanding of faith and morals.

The historical chain of tradition is vital. Knowledge of our heritage enhances our understanding of the Words, anchoring them in a narrative that spans generations. This context helps bridge the gap between ancient practices and contemporary life, making them more meaningful.

The restoration of a Jewish presence in Israel is indeed seen as miraculous. It forces a reevaluation of identity, purpose, and the relationship with the Land. This period of revival demands an introspective look at what it means to be Jewish today—how we practice faith, engage with our history, and envision our future. The Israeli existence is a miracle brought from hidden, concealed to smothing that has been just reviving, re-grafted in the Land that was never quit lively Jewish memories. This grafting process is a tremendous shock for all and the Syrian-Phoenician Rift quakes and quakes again and again. On the other hand, it compels to wisdom and a profound reflection on duration and accomplishment.