American Midrash
American-Jewish may sound natural, but the hyphen hides deep
contradictions.
By Rabbi Cherie Koller-Fox
Midrash refers to the Jewish tradition of text
interpretation. The author of the following opinion piece applies the term
midrash to describe the way that American Jews have reinterpreted some
traditions to fit the American worldview. Reprinted with permission from Sh'ma magazine.
"Contemporary Jews don't like to be told what to
do," wrote Rabbi Melanie Aron after taking a pulpit in California, where
she was told that "mandatory" was a word akin to waving red before a
bull. Why? Because American Jews, like their countrymen, place a high value on
freedom and autonomy.
But Jewish life is based on values like authority,
community, and eternity. As a result, American Jews sometimes find their
Jewish values at odds with the values of the American society in which they
live.
Americans pride themselves on
being independent thinkers who recoil at being told what to do or what to
believe. How do we reconcile this with Judaism's central principle of mitzvah--our
obligation to live life in service to God according to a defined set of
practices?
Commandedness
The Hebrew word mitzvah
means "command." There is an identical word in Yiddish (mitzveh)
that means "good deed." Most people use these words interchangeably,
but they are polar opposites. A good deed is done for another person out of
kindness. A commandment is done to serve God out of obligation. The difference
is that as Jews, we are obligated even when we're not feeling kindly or we
think we've done enough.
From a Jewish perspective,
people who take the commandments upon themselves do not sacrifice their
personal autonomy. According to the Sayings of the Fathers (6:2),
"The only free person is one who is concerned with Torah." True
autonomy comes when people can live free of the limitations of human nature by
attaching themselves to a "Higher Authority." The Hebrew definition
of mitzvah reflects this religious understanding, while the Yiddish one
reflects a more secular view. Apparently, this debate has been going on long
enough to enter the language.
Reinterpretation
The discrepancies between our
American and Jewish values create a dilemma around which we have tiptoed. One
of Judaism's greatest strengths has been its ability to adapt to its
surroundings. In this spirit, we have created an "American Midrash"
learning to live with certain contradictions.
An example of American
Midrash is our interpretation of Hanukkah and Passover as freedom
holidays--reflecting American ideals. The Hanukkah story is actually about the
internal Jewish struggle between assimilationists (Hellenists) and zealots
(the Maccabees) who wanted to preserve Judaism from the influences of Greek
society. But it fits better into our American context to see it as a battle for
freedom of religion.
Similarly, the point of the
Passover story is not the physical freedom from slavery celebrated at the Red
Sea and seder tables in America, but rather the events at Mount Sinai where the
Israelites, freed from their Egyptian masters, were able to obey a new and more
demanding master--God.
An awareness of this
contradiction is beginning to bubble to the surface. Rabbi Eric Yoffie,
president of the Union for Reform Judaism, called for a Reform movement
"grounded in autonomy and pluralism and also willing to talk of
obligations." He called for observance that is "regular and
consistent," and asserted that "our actions need not always begin
with our own impulses."
We live in a society where
fulfilling our personal needs and desires is seen as our birthright. But as the
late Professor Yeshayahu Leibowitz wrote in his essay
"Commandments," "Every action through which one satisfies his
own needs, whether physical or spiritual, is a service to himself and not
service to God."
More Contradictions
Another contradiction: Except
in times of extreme crisis, it is unusual for the American "we" to
supersede the self. In Judaism, even our prayers are written in the plural.
Herbert Bronstein, writing in Tikkun magazine, says, "Since God's
covenant is with the community of Israel, a communal consciousness...
transcends the individual self."
Finally, American society is
goal-oriented in nature, while Judaism is not. One can never do mitzvot well
enough to stop doing them or reach the pinnacle of holiness and rest. Think of
Neilah, the concluding Yom Kippur prayer service-- the shofar sounds, all is
forgiven, and yet, the very next words speak of atoning for sin. As Jews, we
understand observance as our way of tapping into eternity--being part of
something more enduring than ourselves.
After 350 years, we continue
to struggle with what it means to be Jewish in America.
While we cannot fully resolve
the contradictions between our American and Jewish values, we might try
acknowledging that the hyphen in American-Jewish is not always an uncomplicated
path between our two realities.
Rabbi Cherie Koller-Fox is
a founder of the Coalition for the Advancement
of Jewish Education and its Advocacy Commission. She speaks and writes
widely on Jewish education and women's issues and is known as a teacher of
Torah.