Why Would Anyone Choose to Be Jewish Today?

Good Shabbos!

I’ve addressed a lot of the why of choosing Judaism in some ways, mostly the emotional journey. I’ve also answered a quick FAQ about how this could/would impact my work as a UU minister (recap: it won’t).

What I’ve not addressed, fully, is the deeper why. Specifically, the theological and teleological why’s. In other words: What does choosing Judaism have to do with the divine and to what ends was that choice made? If we ask those questions with the backdrop of rising authoritarianism, anti-semitism, and the genocide in Gaza, they’d sound like this:

What on earth are you thinking? And,
You know this won’t end well, right?

Believe me, those questions have been in the back of my mind this whole journey. They’re still on my mind when casual antisemitism is thrown at me. Yep. There is no honeymoon in choosing Judaism. You get the whole kit ‘n caboodle of generational trauma, antisemitism, the Israel problem, and everything else the moment you decide this is your path. I’m not complaining. It’s all messy. And that mess is the backdrop with which this journey to Judaism is undertaken — whether you’re born into it or a convert.

So let’s begin.

What on Earth Were You Thinking?

I feel like many theological problems and questions could be easily solved if we just asked this question first. Original sin? What on earth were you thinking? Hell? What on earth were you thinking? Elaborate cosmologies that blend Christianity with Freemasonry and include baptizing the dead, North American Jesus, and the lost tribes of Israel (looking at you, LDS!)? What on earth were you thinking?

It’s that very phrasing, though, that pulled me in to Judaism. It’s not “What in heaven’s name?” — it’s “What on EARTH? Like Unitarian Universalism, Judaism is a religion of the Earth, of the here and now. It has fantastical stories that serve as teaching tools and symbols, but ultimately, it all boils down to how we live our lives and remember our lineage. It’s an oversimplification, but I like it for today’s purposes.

There is a wonderful image in Judaism of the Torah being revealed on the mountain. Sure, it happened, according to the story, thousands of years ago. Theologically, though, it is said that every Jew (and in some tellings: Everyone) throughout time is present at the mountain. It’s a unifying story. It holds within it every saint and sinner that will ever count themselves among the nation of Yisrael (“those who struggle with the divine”). You could say it’s also a Universalist story. We are all facing the inexplicability of life and the Universe, but there we are, united throughout time in our common struggle.

I don’t know what to think about the idea of God most days. Personally, I’ve gone from believing, to not believing, to a mystical not believing, to a very definite “I don’t know but I’m open to mystery.” I feel like the only danger in anything religious or spiritual is certitude. This can be a point of tension in Judaism, even progressive communities. Yes, within many Jewish communities, atheism is just as common as Unitarian Universalist communities. But the structures of the Union for Reform Judaism, for example, still expect converts to understand that being Jewish means the exclusion of all other gods or goddesses. In practice, this doesn’t happen. (This is just another example of how converts are held to a very high standard compared to everyday Jews who were born into it). Where I’ve landed with this idea of “exclusion” is when I look at the character of the divine. Before someone lines up objections from the Hebrew Bible, I’ll add that it’s about the interpretation of divine character and has nothing to do with literalism. The Great Mystery of this life should call us to love our neighbors, care for the stranger and the poor, seek out acts of charity and kindness, take care of ourselves, love and be loved, repair the world, seek and offer forgiveness, and instill in us a sense that renewal is always possible. With that in mind, I reject any notion of the divine, any religion, any spirituality, and any practice that is counter to those attributes. I may not have a definite or complete understanding of whatever-God-is-or-isn’t, but I know the qualities that I want to uphold in my life and the life of any community I’m a part of. It’s both a very Jewish and very Unitarian Universalist idea. Don’t believe in God? That’s okay — practice lovingkindness, charity, renewal, etc etc. Believe in God? That’s okay — practice these same things. Don’t know or don’t care? You see where this is going. For me, these attributes coupled with UU values concretizes an earthiness to spirituality that I need in life. I will have my head in the clouds given the chance. I need to be brought back down to earth time and time again.

There’s a final piece (though, really, there are MANY pieces yet to explore) that fueled this pursuit theologically. It’s repentance. Teshuvah. Return. It’s not just a sense but a practice that we are called to in Judaism over and over. Where can we return to what is life-giving? Healing? Forgiving? Repairing? When we mess up, can we adopt a practice that is second nature to us that frees us from cyclical and crushing guilt or shame and gives us the courage to repair and forgive? There’s something quite beautiful and really quite unsatisfying (initially) in this idea of repentance. We always have a second chance, but we have to work at it. It might make one long for Christian theology: Repent to God and you’re good! Judaism says “Wait a minute. Yes, sure, include the divine, but repent to your community. To yourself. Get busy in this life making it right.” This time we live in feels especially lacking in grace and forgiveness, but it’s been with us for a while. In the United States, felons aren’t just punished in prison, they’re punished their whole lives. I know people who nearly land themselves in an early grave due to the weight of guilt. I’ve been one of those people and seen my health suffer. And maybe it’s our nature, but we treat ourselves and each other so terribly over past mistakes. Judaism and Unitarian Universalism imagine a world that is yet-to-come. A world where repair and forgiveness are liberating. UUism isn’t as explicit in this desire, but I hope for a day when it is. Judaism gives me the toolbox to put it into practice and to flesh out my UU hopes and dreams. I know forgiveness is a loaded theological idea, but I’m someone that needs that in my life. I have to know there’s a way through our faults as human beings that not only repairs wrongdoing but liberates us from the guilt or shame.

You Know This Won’t End Well, Right?

What purpose, what ends, if any, does claiming this identity have for me? In the history of the Christian world, it’s only ever been a hop-skip-and-jump before the Jews are scapegoated for something. In 2017, in Charlottesville, mostly preppy white guys with amusing tiki torches marched chanting “The Jews will not replace us.” That part wasn’t amusing. People have a remarkable inability to separate Netanyahu and the Likud party from Judaism itself. It’s the Jews who are starving Gaza, I hear people say. Yeah, this might not end well.

I would counter that such an exercise could be done with any tribe we become a part of. Unitarian Universalism is not perfect. Becoming part of that tribe means becoming part of a very well-meaning, progressive, openhearted group of people. It also means inheriting the legacy of Puritanism in the United States, our missteps in anti-racist work, and the reality we have always been and will continue to be (maybe?) a very small group of misfits. My late mentor, the Rev. Ed Searl, called us a “boutique religion.” I want him to be wrong. You get that baggage when you adopt the tribe. Become a Roman Catholic and, well, do I need to list everything you inherit? Evangelical? Same thing. Crunchy granola new age hippie? Hey, you get to inherit and wrestle with the dangers of manifesting, pseudoscience, and Anti-vaxxers. Keep going down the lists of tribes: MAGA, Pickleball, Sierra Club, and so on. The point is, nothing is pure. And today, it just happens that we live in a time when the state of Israel is exacting immense evil in the world. But so is America. Russia. The list could be endless. No purity to be found here.

I didn’t choose Judaism because I wanted anti-semitism or something to kvetch about. I chose it because it’s messy. I chose it because its mess goes nicely with the mess of Unitarian Universalism. This is a personal gripe, but I do not like piety. I have no use for it. And piety can infect almost anything. I much prefer raw, honest, and struggling spirituality. It doesn’t mean it has to be painful, but it must be human.

So, does this answer the questions? In an incomplete way. But I also have nothing to defend here. I am content with my decision and my path. I think that, ultimately, is the most important thing. Sparing myself (and you) a further 500 pages, I know this is an ongoing conversation. It should be. Always.

Until next time.