Being Jewish a lifelong process
Steven was only 10 years old the first time he was attacked for being Jewish. No, he wasn't called a "dirty Jew," "kike," or "Christ-killer" by some taunting bully or anti-Semite. His assault came from the inside, from a fellow student at his Jewish day school.
"You're hardly Jewish, you know. You don't keep kosher and you never go to synagogue," Benny scorned. "You're a bad Jew."
A bad Jew. To even the most assimilated Jew, the accusation cuts to the core. While most of us can tolerate a wide variety of character assaults, to be accused of being a bad Jew feels different and much worse.
Why is it that within the Jewish religion — which encompasses a broad spectrum of ideas, rituals, traditions, foods, and cultures — we are so quick to judge one another from the standpoint of where we are in our own relationship to Judaism? Benny had already begun to view Steven negatively because he didn't follow the same observances as Benny's family. Is it simply human nature to judge others based on our own choices or do we really believe that we are better Jews because of the rituals we observe, the synagogues we attend, or the charities we support?
Put another way: Does the fact that I keep kosher make my cousin a bad Jew because he enjoys an occasional cheeseburger? Am I a better Jew than my friend because I give to the Jewish federation but she donates to the American Diabetes Foundation? I agree it makes us different Jews, but not necessarily better or worse.
I think that, as serious Jews, we need to ask ourselves these questions. Shouldn't the focus of our inquiry be whether we are engaged, evolving, questioning, and caring Jews rather than whether we are "as good as the Goldberg family" Jews? Shouldn't we look at ourselves and ask ourselves how the Jewish tradition can provide a framework for meaning and purpose and enrich and inform our lives and families?
Being a Jew is a lifelong process. From the moment a Jewish baby enters the world, he or she does so with a different set of genes, traditions, opportunities, expectations, and responsibilities. Judaism teaches that each one of us is unique. From this we understand that each one of us will encounter and embrace the Torah and its ideals in ways that are unique to us. What that means for each person inevitably will be different. For some it may mean engaging in Torah study and ritual observance or being involved in creating a Jewish home and family, joining a synagogue, or working out at the Jewish Community Center. For others it may mean going to Israel, buying Israel Bonds, or supporting Magen David Adom.
The fact that the point of entry is different for everyone matters little as long as the pursuit in some way enhances our awareness and appreciation of Jewish traditions, ethics, history, and people.
The Hebrew term for Jewish law is Halacha, which means path or way. We do ourselves and other Jews an injustice if we fail to acknowledge that walking along the Jewish path is an evolving, fluid process, with each new awareness, decision, and understanding informing us and guiding our future as we walk along our own unique path.
When asked if he put on tefillin each morning, noted German-Jewish scholar and author Franz Rosenzweig (1886-1929) responded, "Not yet." While he may not have been ready to commit to doing it at that point in time, he didn't close the door on the possibility that someday he might be. What a wonderful way to envision the potential that remains open to each of us as we journey into new territories of being Jewish.
A favorite passage of the rabbis of Yavne was:
"I am a creature of God, and my neighbor is also a creature of God.
I work in the city, and he works in the country.
I rise early for my work, and he rises early for his work.
Just as he cannot excel in my work, I cannot excel in his work.
Will you say that I do great things and he does small things?
We have learned that it does not matter whether a person does much or little, as long as he directs his heart to heaven."
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