Monday, January 07, 2008

Continuity vs. Unity

Maintaining continuity and unity are the two greatest challenges facing the Jewish community.

Jewish unity is slowly disintegrating. Post –Shoah feelings of Jewish solidarity are now gone. Divisions over matters of religion and political affiliation have even lead to violence. Books like A People Divided: Judaism in Contemporary America and Jew vs. Jew: The Struggle for the Soul of American Jewry chronicle the growing tensions between Orthodox and non-Orthodox Jews in North America. In Israel, religion has been politicized, with religious and anti-religious parties stoking an atmosphere of mutual contempt. And of course there are the political tensions related to Israel’s foreign policy, which led to the assassination of Yitzchak Rabin. With the Jewish people seemingly breaking apart into warring tribes, Jewish unity is a serious problem indeed.

At the same time, Jewish continuity is perhaps a more serious danger. Simply put, North American Jews are disappearing into a fog of assimilation. Study after study deliver bad news about Jewish affiliation: a 50%+ intermarriage rate, a 50%+ rate of indifference to Israel, and an all around lack of interest in Judaism. But the news gets worse; every one of these studies show the rate of assimilation growing among younger Jews. If these trends keep up, soon there won’t be any Jews left to fight with each other.

A barrage of sermons has been aimed at the dual challenges of unity and continuity. For a Rabbi, speaking about continuity and unity is the rough equivalent of a politician talking about motherhood and apple pie. Indeed, for the last two decades I have shouted myself hoarse talking about these two problems. Yet, what I failed to reflect on all these years is that continuity and unity are often in direct conflict with each other.

Continuity and unity raise concerns that are as different from each other as homeless shelters and country clubs. On an instinctual level, the need for Jewish unity reflexively leads us to solve communal problems with acceptance and openness, while the concern for Jewish continuity instinctively leads us to emphasize standards and strengthen the core. (Of course I am well aware that openness and warmth help with outreach efforts to the unaffiliated; but fundamentally, continuity requires standards, and standards are inherently exclusionary.)

Conflict between the interests of Jewish continuity and Jewish unity arise over issues like intermarriage. On the one hand, Jewish unity demands that we treat all Jews like a member of the family. We would then want to reach out to any intermarried Jews, and make them feel welcome in Jewish institutions. At the same time, indiscriminate acceptance of interfaith families threatens Jewish continuity, because our communal embrace can be mistook for an acceptance, even an endorsement, of intermarriage as legitimate Jewish practice. Unity asks us to open our institutions, and even leadership roles, to intermarrieds; continuity demands we support the Jewish family and roundly condemn intermarriage.

This conflict shouldn’t be underestimated. Many of the debates in Jewish life, from what should be a day school’s acceptance policies to what sort of cultural and educational programs should be funded by our Federations, relate to the tension between unity and continuity.

The continuity vs. unity dilemma effects me, (an Orthodox Rabbi involved in the broader community), profoundly. I have a deep love for both Klal Yisrael, the Jewish people, and Torat Yisrael, the Jewish tradition. So what is the proper way for an Orthodox Rabbi to relate to a pluralistic, heterodox Jewish world? The unity vs. continuity dilemma is part of my daily life.

In actuality, the unity vs. continuity dilemma is an old one, and is actually enshrined in the Jewish calendar. Hanukkah is a holiday of Jewish continuity, celebrating the survival of the Jewish tradition in an era of assimilation. The Maccabees, the heroes of Hanukkah, ignore concerns about Jewish unity when they battle the Hellenistic Jews who supported the Seleucids. On the other hand, Purim is a holiday about Jewish unity. All Jews, without exception, are included in Haman’s decree of annihilation, and the heroine is a woman who uses her secular Persian name and marries a non-Jewish king. (Indeed, the Talmud records an opinion that Esther ate pork, the ultimate symbol of diminished Jewish identity). Unlike Hanukkah, Purim is a narrative about Jewish unity where all Jews work together, with a marginal Jew leading the way. Paradoxically, despite the enormous divergence in narrative, we celebrate both Hanukkah and Purim.

There is no simple formula for integrating continuity and unity. The easiest solution would be to pick one, either unity or continuity, and ignore the other. Indeed, some Jewish groups choose to do just that. However, those of us who remain absolutely committed to both Jewish continuity and Jewish unity are choosing a much more difficult course. We will be confronted by dilemmas, and at times be insecure in our decisions. Yet we can take heart in the fact that for generations Jews have celebrated both unity and continuity, and found the courage and ingenuity to preserve both.


Steg (dos iz nit der šteg) said...

good luck, and if you discover the secret to combining unity and continuity, please remember to share it with the rest of us ;-)

Rabbi Chaim Steinmetz said...

actually, i think i've given the secret: dual loyalty. if we are loyal to both klal ysrael and torat yisrael, we will somehow always figure out the way to square the circle. yes, it will require improvisation, but it will work too!!

Anonymous said...

Well said, but I'm not sure if there really is a tension here. Isn't it obvious that continuity absolutely must take precedence over unity? If we cease to exist, there is nobody to unite. Wouldn't you rather have a fragmented Am Yisrael than no Am Yisrael?

I'd rather speak in terms of a tension between outreach and inreach. Meaning, should we - comitted Orthodox Jews - focus our attention on maintaining and enhancing our own standards of limud ha'Torah and shemiras ha'mitzvos, or on reaching out to our unaffiliated brethren? The two certainly need not be mutually exclusive, but there is a question of priority.

I know I'm getting onto a touchy issue here, but this is basically the "machlokes" between the YCT-Edah approach and the traditional Orthodox approach. YU and to the right are saying that we need to first and foremost preserve the type of rigorous, intensive yeshiva learning and dikduk be'halacha of our predecessors, before we can go on and try to sell our wares to the unaffiliated. I think what YCT-Edah is trying to do is refocus Orthdoxy's attention onto the need to reach out to less affiliated and unaffiliated Jews.

Rabbi Chaim Steinmetz said...

the previous anonymous comment makes an excellent point:

"Isn't it obvious that continuity absolutely must take precedence over unity? If we cease to exist, there is nobody to unite. Wouldn't you rather have a fragmented Am Yisrael than no Am Yisrael?"

actually, although it seems quite logical to exclude or at least ignore those who are not true belivers, this is not what Judaism preaches. Perhaps the Gemara in Brachot, describing Moshe's response in the aftermath of the Golden Calf, puts it best (32a)

"And I will make of thee a great nation etc. R. Eleazar said: Moses said before the Holy One, blessed be He: Sovereign of the Universe, seeing that a stool with three legs17 cannot stand before Thee in the hour of Thy wrath, how much less a stool with one leg! And moreover, I am ashamed before my ancestors, who will now say: See what a leader he has set over them! He sought greatness for himself, but he did not seek mercy for them!"

Anonymous said...

There are a few important chilukim between the chet ha'egel story and contemporary American Jewry, but the main point I think is that I'm all for davening for all members of kelal Yisrael alike, regardless of religious affiliationm, just as Moshe davened for B'Y' after the golden calf. But if it comes down to a conflict between unity and continuity, continuity must certainly win.

Let's think of other historical precedents, such as Karaism. Didn't Saadia Gaon, the Rambam, et al sacrifice unity for the continuity of authentic Jewish faith and practice?