In December, I read an article entitled "Can you Be an Atheist and a Jew at the Same Time? David Silverman Says No”. A friend of mine posted it on his Facebook and I subsequently shared it on my
wall. An interesting debate ensued which will be the focus of this post.
In the article, Silverman, a self-identified atheist raised
by Jewish parents, encourages Jews who don’t believe in God to “come out” to
their family and friends as atheists.
After much personal struggle, Silverman finally asserted
that Judaism—a religion—is incompatible with atheism.
He makes an important distinction between Jewish culture—which
is regionally based—and the religion itself. What all Jews have in common though, he realized, was the Torah.
I commend Silverman for his efforts and his views, as I wholeheartedly
agree with him.
Despite his beliefs (or non-beliefs as the case may be), he
is married to a woman who attends Orthodox services during High Holidays but
who is, ultimately, Reform in practice. They both have agreed not to force their
views on each other and they have a successful and loving marriage. Moreover,
Silverman gave the Old and New Testament to his daughter, among other
commentators on said works, and asked her to decide for herself about God’s
existence.
This is how I envision my own future. Religion is not
something that should be forced on anyone and I have no intention on forcing it
upon any of my hypothetical children. I will, due to my own beliefs regarding
Judaism, introduce my children to it,
but I will not expect or demand them to follow in my footsteps.
Growing up, I defined myself as “culturally Jewish” as did
(and do) many of my friends back home.
I take issue with this for the following reasons:
As Silverman himself points out, Judaism is a religion, not
a culture. There are aspects of Jewish
living, however, that are culturally-based such as the food, music, habits,
etc. But there are many things that Jewish North American families participate in
that are certainly not “cultural practices” but are most definitely religious ones.
I was raised in a Reform household. Due to my limited
knowledge, I assumed my experience (8 years of Hebrew School, a bat mitzvah, attending
synagogue during the High Holidays, family dinners—including substantial
prayers recited in Hebrew—for said holidays, lighting the Shabbat candles,
keeping kosher in the house, and attending a Jewish sleepover camp) were the
sum experiences of all North American
Jewish children. Out of all these experiences, the only “cultural” experience
would be the latter—attending a Jewish sleepover camp. There are religious
aspects to this particular experience, but it is on the whole a cultural
experience.
That is to say—if you went to Hebrew School, you prayed
every day. Who exactly were you praying to? If you had a bar or bat mitzvah, what
is the significance of participating in such a ritual when in secular society
you are not actually an adult until you are 18/19/21—in whose eyes are you now an adult? If you attend synagogue or read
from the siddur/haggadah with your family during the High Holidays, what
exactly are you celebrating and in whose name? If you light the Shabbat candles
with your mother, who are you envisioning as you close your eyes? If your
family kept kosher, whose law was it that commanded you to do so?
I ask these questions for a purpose. I ask them because I
wish to assert that being “culturally” Jewish has nothing to do with being
Jewish.
You can't take the religion out of Judaism just as you can't separate being Jewish from religion.
People who are raised Jewish can certainly engage in Jewish
cultural practices, but to be Jewish—in
any shape or form—means not only to
accept the existence of God, but to believe
in God.
There is no separating God from Judaism. If you don’t
believe in God, that’s perfectly fine. You can certainly engage in Jewish
cultural practices and practice Jewish philosophy (which would be far more
meaningful than the former) but that doesn’t make you Jewish.
I know that’s hard to
hear, but let me tell you why.
As a child of Jewish parents, especially if your mother is
Jewish, you are—according to Judaism—a Jew. And even if you aren’t a religious or
observant Jew, you can still certainly be Jewish. Judaism isn’t, after all, all
or nothing.
However, if you do not believe in God, then you don’t
believe in the Jewish people, and therefore—if you define yourself as
culturally Jewish—don’t believe in yourself. Let me explain.
According to Jewish history, everyone started off “Jewish”.
Because everyone was of one faith, there was technically no such thing as being
Jewish because there was no need to make the distinction.
When God flooded the world, Noah—descendant of Adam and Eve—was
left to repopulate. There was a period of roughly 292 years between the flood
and Abraham (born 1976 BCE). It took the ancestors of the Jewish people almost
300 years to return to monotheism. It then took another ~400 years before Moses
and God’s presentation of the Torah to the Jewish people.
But my point in
bringing this up is that the Jewish people didn’t actually come into existence
until the moment they were given the Torah. All other nations rejected God’s
words, but this group of people—the Jews—accepted it.
Many people claim that they are “proud” of their Jewish
heritage. Perhaps, to them, this means that their grandparents survived the
Holocaust. I do not, and would never, deny anyone their right to feel proud of
their Jewish heritage, whatever that may be. I myself am certainly a proud Jew.
However, my pride
stems from an awareness of thousands of years worth of history and the
understanding that, without God, there would be no such thing as Judaism, as
the Jewish people, as Jewish heritage.
I commend and encourage Jews to take pride in their Jewish
heritage. I also strongly encourage people to indulge in Jewish cultural practices and practice Jewish philosophy. My point, however, is that Jewish heritage is more than just about Jewish food, Jewish rites
of passage, and Jewish sleepover camps.
Our heritage is that we chose.
We chose God, his commandments, and his teachings.
Those who say they are “culturally Jewish” but shy away from
any kind of “religious” talk—particularly in denying the existence of God, or even
in choosing not to acknowledge that God has anything to do with being Jewish—then
they are actually saying that the Jews, as a people, do not exist and never
existed because no God ever presented them with the Torah: the foundation and
very core of Judaism.
Our ancestors witnessed God presenting the Torah to Moses.
In Exodus (19:9), God said to Moses: “I am going to come to
you in a dense cloud, so that the people will hear me speaking with you and
will always put their trust in you.”
Through this act, the Jewish people heard God speak to Moses.
He became their prophet and their champion.
Our Jewish heritage is that we witnessed and received the
Torah.
There is one very important prayer, one that is known to
most Jewish children, because it is usually recited to them before they go to
sleep, or drilled into their heads in Hebrew School. My parents never sung it
to me as a child, but I certainly recited it three days a week for eight years
while attending Hebrew School.
I refer, of course, to the Shema.
The first six words of the Shema are: Shema Yisrael Adonai
eloheinu Adonai ehad.
In English: “Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is
one.”
Often, the last letter of the first and last words of the
Shema verse are written in larger print in the siddur (prayer book). These
letters form the word “ed”—witness—and
remind Jews to witness God’s sovereignty by leading exemplary lives (since
humankind was made in “God’s image”). Just as the Jewish nation witnessed God speaking to Moses, we are reminded, every day, of God's existence by reciting this prayer.
In the New Testament (Mark 12:28-31), Jesus is asked: “Of
all the commandments, which is the most important?” Jesus responds with these
very words (and of course, eventually, love thy neighbour).
The shema is an interesting prayer because it is usually
said when we are alone before we go to sleep. Reciting the shema is one’s
declaration of faith and commitment to God. It also expresses our connection to
God and the Jewish people, and how we are all connected to each other.
To end my post, I would like to share with you the following
story. It is a story that has now been told to me by three Rabbis. I first heard it at the Aish conference and each time I've heard the story, I've cried.
In 1945, after the Holocaust, Rabbi Eliezer Silver—founder
of the Vaad Hatzalah (Rescue Committee)—sought to locate hundreds of displaced
Jewish children who were given up by their parents at the start of the Holocaust
in order to save their lives. Many of these children were raised in convents
and monasteries.
These children lost more than just their parents and relatives—they
lost their Jewish heritage and identity.
Rabbi Silver was given knowledge that one monastery in the
Alsace-Lorraine region of France sheltered a number of children whose parents
deposited them there before the start of the Holocaust.
Upon his arrival, the monk informed Rabbi Silver that there
were no Jewish children there. The list of Jewish names Rabbi Silver presented
to the monk could easily have been any other (non-Jewish) German child.
Rabbi Silver asked if he could return to the monastery later
that evening before the children went to sleep so he could speak with them.
When he returned that evening, he entered the large dorm
room and began to sing the Shema.
While he sang, other children began to sing with him. Many cried and called out for their mothers. Upon hearing the prayer, they were immediately reminded of their parents, their home, and who they were.
The shema enabled Rabbi Silver to return these children to
their families and their Jewish heritage.
I know many of my friends who define themselves as “culturally
Jewish” most likely do not recite the shema when they wake up or before they go to sleep. I myself
am only just working towards doing that.
You certainly do not have to say the shema every night to be
Jewish, but some part of you does need to believe in the existence of
an omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent being.
You don’t need to call Him God. But you should be aware
that, without him, Jewish people wouldn’t exist.
And that includes your Jewish “cultural”
indulgences as well.
To all those “culturally” Jewish people: the next time you
light your Shabbat candles, wish someone L’Shana Tova (tikatev v’taihatem), or read
from your Pesach Haggadah, please ask yourselves:
Who exactly am I praying to?
M.B.
