Quebec has a kippah problem. A proposed “Charter of Values”
will prohibit public employees from wearing hijabs, turbans, kippahs, and bizarrely
oversized crosses. Apparently, our government believes religious symbols worn
by less than 1% of the population threaten to turn Quebec into a theocracy.
The Jewish community has united in opposition to the Charter
of Values. This threat to minority religious rights is unsettling, and Jews of
all backgrounds feel a sentimental tie to the beleaguered kippah.
But as Jews, we have our own kippah problem. Our attitudes
towards the kippah reflect our ambivalence about being a Jew in the non-Jewish
world.
After the Jews were given political rights in Europe, many chose
the route of partial assimilation. Their motto was “be a Jew at home, and a mensch
in the street”. In their desire for acceptance, Jews modified their public image.
The tradition of wearing the kippah was quickly tossed away.
At the turn of the century, the kippah was discouraged by the Reform movement as
an ancient relic; one historian remarked that “worship with an uncovered head”
was a “hallmark of Reform Judaism”.
Other Jews saw integration as dangerous. They followed an
ideology of “shalem”, of being distinct. They spoke Yiddish, wore a shtreimel, and
used their Hebrew names on official documents. These Jews insisted on being a
counterculture, and defiantly refused to integrate.
Most Jews fall between the poles of ghettoization and
assimilation. We know how to fit into the larger culture, yet still want to be
profoundly Jewish as well. And so we wonder: how different should we be?
And that is the Jewish kippah problem. We want to be serious
Jews, but we also don’t want to stick out that much. It’s a simple psychological fact: people want
to fit in with the majority. Even Orthodox Jews are sometimes uncomfortable
wearing a kippah. It’s not uncommon that when I’m in remote venues with few
Jews, I’ll meet a modern Orthodox friend who’s chosen to wear a baseball cap instead
of a kippah, so that his head covering is less conspicuous.
And this kippah problem is our greatest challenge: how to be
comfortable while being different. A new Pew study shows that 32% of American
Jews had a Christmas tree. (By contrast, only 22% kept kosher). Christmas is ubiquitous; to resist it is difficult,
because it’s difficult to swim against the stream. To put it directly, kippahs
are awkward while Christmas trees are comfortable: that’s our kippah problem.
I wish I had a magic solution for this, but I don’t. Being a
Jew in North America means having the courage to of your convictions, and
proudly be different. And that’s not so
simple, even for a Rabbi.