Just another shabbat in Jerusalem

On shabbat, MA and I went to TS's seuda shlishit. There were some secular Israelis there, and some other Americans, and somehow we started talking about the relationship between government and religion here. It is striking how these conversations always seem to go the same way, Americans totally impassioned, Israelis staring blankly.

From the American point of view, Israel's government supports one form of Judaism to the exclusion of others, and a particularly obnoxious one at that: ultra-orthodoxy. The ultra-orthodox minority controls marriage, death, and conversion for all Jews in Israel. And their form of Judaism is really sexist. "Why should the government support this?" the Americans demand. "Why do the rest of us have to live under their form of Judaism?"

The secular Israelis, meanwhile, feel disconnected from religion, and can't figure out why the Americans care so much what shade of silliness is recognized as the official religion. Moreover, they can't quite figure out how we American Jews-- modern orthodox, traditional egalitarian, or liberal--are different from the ultra-orthodox. "You are wearing a kippah and you just said kiddush, so doesn't that mean you are religious too?"

We reply that we are, but differently from the ultra-orthodox. We aren't sexist, for example. Or, we see the bible as a literary or historical document, rather than simply as devine revalation. "Why does the ultra-orthodox form of Judaism get government recognition, and not ours?"

"Because they practice the Jewish religion," reply the Israelis, quite innocently. "They are living the traditional life the way it's always been."

At this point, TS, flushed with emotion, had the best line of the evening: "Who made them God?" Her point was that Judaism has always changed and developed in every age and this idea that the ultra-orthodox are preserving authentic Judaism is a myth that the ultra-orthodox have fed to the secularists, and that the secularists have swallowed with a gullability not often associated with Israelis.

"But, if you don't like religion, why are you so worried about what the crazy ultra-orthodox do? Just leave them alone and live your own life," say the secular Israelis.

"We won't let them co-opt Judaism and steal it from us," we reply. And, indeed, for those committed American Jews born of a Jewish father and a non Jewish mother, they are literally fighting for their Judaism against a religious establishment that says they aren't Jewish.

Slightly confused, the Israelis ask, "Well, what is Judaism to you, then, if not the religion of the ultra-orthodox?"

And this it seems is the crux of the communication gap. We American Jews have had to live as a minority, and therefore we have had to think about what it is to be Jewish. We have lots of ideas about this. Judaism is a history, a set of values, a culture, a family, much more than a religion. Judaism is a nation, a civilization, encompassing a great profusion and diversity of religious practice.

These secular Israelis who don't even really consider themselves Jewish can't even anwer the question of why the State of Israel should exist, though they fight and die in place of the ultra-orthodox in order to ensure the continued existence of the State. Why does the world need a Jewish state? To protect the Jews? Perhaps, but Jewish people are really safer in the United States. It is true that Jews in Germany in 1930 thought they were perfectly safe and turned out to be tragically wrong, but the idea that the Jewish state exists solely as a refuge for the Jews rings terribly hollow to me. Perhaps it is because I have lived a life in which assimilation has always been easily within reach whereas Judaism I've had to search for and work at. Really, what can a secular Israeli say when asked why the state of Israel should exist? 3000 years of history so that...

"So that we can have a bonfire on lag baomer and cheesecake on shavuot."

That wasn't the Israelis, that was me, and I think it was my best line of the night.

After about an hour of this argument, the Israelis wearied and wanted to talk about something else. It's strange, because as American Jews in Israel, this is sort of all we ever talk about.

So no resolutions came out of this conversation, but I did learn something. I haven't had a chance yet to snap a picture, but if I think of it I will take one of a window in a Tel Aviv bridal shop. The wedding dresses in this country are scandalous. They are these lacy, revealing affairs that are not decent. Cleavage, bare midriff, bare shoulders, open back, the whole deal. It's a little shocking. "There is white material piled on in places that don't need to be covered and nothing in places that do need to be covered -- it's like what Barbie would get married in," said TS. The reason davka is religion.

(Davka, by the way, is an adverb meaning "because of but also in spite of." It's a word that recognizes that impossible ironies are integral to the cosmos.)

During the actual ceremony, there is of course an ultra-orthodox rabbi present. The ultra-orthodox rabbinate requires that wedding dresses be sufficiently modest - everything that has to be covered has to be covered, as well as a lot else. So, these brides wear some kind of a shawl thing during the ceremony, and then, as soon as the rabbi is gone, off with the shawl, on with the debauchery. The tastelessly revealing wedding dress is a thinly veiled middle finger to the enforcers of traditional morality. A little like graduating with nothing on under your robe.