Tuesday, July 28, 2015

THE MEANING AND SIGNIFICANCE OF JEWISH SURVIVAL * by WALTER S. WURZBURGER


THE MEANING AND SIGNIFICANCE OF JEWISH SURVIVAL *
by WALTER S. WURZBURGER
Rabbi, Congregation Shaarei Shomayim, Toronto, Canada

CURRENT Jewish, thinking is plagued by an almost obsessive preoccupation with the problem of survival. The | agonizing uncertainty surrounding our position in the modern world is reflected in the sense of urgency with which we search not only for new instrumentalities, but even for a rationale to insure continued Jewish existence. It is commonly accepted almost as an axiom, that the problem o f survival has arisen as a result of the Emancipation, which, in bringing to the Jew the blessings of freedom and opportunity, simultaneously shattered the mold in which I the Jewish people has been cast and solidified for so many centuries. With the collapse of the Ghetto walls, the Jew emerged from the self-enclosed enclaves of segregated and separated Jewish existence. The manifold opportunities to participate in the social, political and economic life of the larger society deprived the Jew of the natural immunity which in the pre-emancipation era had : afforded him protection against the disease of disintegration. Since in their new setting, so conducive to assimilation ': and the loss of Jewish identity, Jews formed a purely "voluntary " community, it became necessary for the first time to find a rationale for Jewish survival based upon commitment to Jewish national or religious values. What this analysis overlooks is the blatant fact, that even before the Emancipation, Jewish survival, at least insofar as the individual was concerned, rested upon an act of choice. Conversion to the dominant faith presented the ticket of admission to all the economic and social privileges and opportunities available in the larger society. If the individual Jew, in spite of all handicaps and limitations, remained within the Jewish community, it was because his religious commitment to the faith of Israel made his membership in the Jewish community a supreme religious duty. What renders Jewish survival so precarious in the modern era are not so much the social or political upheavals of the Emancipation, but the intellectual revolutions wrought by the Enlightenment. Our problem does not derive so much from what we have gained in terms of newly found social or political opportunities, but rather from what we have lost in terms of faith and commitment. It was the secularization of modern thinking, with its challenge to the very premises upon which Jewish existence is predicated, that necessitated the groping for philosophies of Jewish survival. After all, survival of the Jew and of Judaism was in question in many Eastern European countries, even long before the Emancipation reached there. Historically, and I am following here in the main Professor Packenheim's 1 brilliant analysis, until the Enlightenment the duty to survive as a Jew was accepted as a religious imperative. It derived from the belief that Israel had encountered the living God on Mount Sinai and had become a people of the covenant, a "chosen people." But the "acids of modernity," to use Walter Lippmann's expression, have corroded the very basis of such a religious commitment. The categories of modern rational thought that had led to what Buber terms "the eclipse of God," show a definite bias towards naturalism. A t the very best, they can tolerate a remote abstract deity. They might accept what Pascal called the "Go d of the philosophers, "but they cannot accommodate themselves to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of the Sinaitic covenant. Divine revelation represents a "scandal of particularity" that jars with the operation of the broad, universal categories of the rationalist temper. When modern Jews began to question this faith, the foundation of Jewish national existence crumbled. For Judaism, as the eminent historians Yehezkel Kaufman and Salo Baron never tire of pointing out, is essentially a "religious ethnicism." Since the Jewish people was founded upon the bedrock of a religious faith, the question had to be faced whether, without this faith, Jewish existence could amount to more than what sociologists label a mere "survival. "Could the Jewish people be preserved as a people by some operation of functional autonomy, where ethnic components could function independently of the religious ones? Or, since a faith founded upon a divine encounter with a particular people was regarded as incompatible with the modern mind, could Judaism perhaps be redefined as just another "religion" which could perhaps provide even the Jew with a raison d'etre as the bearer or custodian of certain values or ideas? The many proposed redefinitions and solutions to the problem of survival overlooked one essential feature of the very hallmark of the Jew. " Religious ethnicism" is not just a mixture in which two distinct components, i.e. ethnic loyalty and religious commitment, can be isolated. They form a compound, or perhaps, better still, an organic whole that cannot be broken down into its constituent parts without destroying the very life of the organism involved. It might be objected that when we question the possibility or meaningfulness of Jewish survival without a concomitant faith in the Sinaitic revelation, we are, in fact, guilty of what Raphael Morris Cohen termed the "genetic fallacy." Could not Jewish survival, though originally nourished and sustained by a religious faith, be accounted for in purely sociological or cultural historic terms, such as ethnic group loyalties, Jewish stubbornness in clinging to an outmoded form of existence, and all sorts of other sociological or psychological pressures? Yet, is it really plausible to treat the sense of duty to remain Jews, which is experienced by so many modern Jews, merely as a residual trace of a religious commitment that has lost its meaning? Would not that render Jewish group loyalty basically a manifestation of a "fossilized existence," a relic of a bygone era that could not adjust itself to new realities? In the frantic search to find a surrogate for the religious faith that previously had guaranteed Jewish survival, the "survivalists" have proposed all sorts of ingenious theories, which are as bold as they are fallacious. After first inventing the myth of a collective will to survival, which Tehezkiel Kaufman denounced as a sheer "figment of the imagination," they embarked upon a radical re-interpretation of Jewish history which transformed Judaism into a "handmaiden of survival." Accordingly, the Jewish national will to survive cloaked itself in the "exilic garments" of religious observance, which enabled the Jew, through the creation of a so-called "portable state," to maintain a sense of national identity even in the absence of a common territory or language. Because Judaism was so eminently successful in preserving the Jewish people, Jean Parkes has gone so far as to label it a "religion of survival." Perhaps, the most extreme case of the application of biological criteria to the evaluation of religion is Professor Kaplan's formulation of Judaism as a religious civilization, in which religion, to borrow Arthur Cohen's felicitous expression, is transformed into a "gelatinous preservative" of national survival. Bertrand Russell once observed that God has become an annex to church promotion. In the Kaplanian reconstruction, His scope has been somewhat broadened. He has been promoted to an appendage to—group survival! Apart from the repulsiveness of a notion which reduces the highest religious goal of a people into a mere instrument for group survival, the very concept of a national will to survive rests basically upon a logical fallacy. It ascribes to the group as a whole the characteristics belonging to its individual members. The will to live or the instinct towards self-preservation are notions that prima facie apply to biological entities. A good many totally unwarranted assumptions have to be made before we can even conceive of a possible analogous application of the concept to social groups. The secret of Jewish survival cannot be fathomed by postulating some mysterious collective will to survival. What preserved the Jewish people through the ages was neither an overpowering group loyalty, nor an overwhelming sense of tradition that allegedly produced fossilized attitudes. It was out of a sense of personal religious commitment that individual Jews remained within the fold. They persevered in remaining Jews not because they opted for Jewish values or because they preferred as a matter of taste the Jewish style of living, but because theirs was the faith that, in Heschel's words, "belonging to the Jewish people is a sacred relation. .. . It is the living in the spiritual order of the Jewish people. " Though the theological foundations of this commitment are no longer consciously affirmed, the typical Jew till this very day accepts his Jewishness not so much as a right or privilege but a duty. This points to the essentially religious character of Jewish survival. There is no stigma attached to leaving one's ethnic group. One suffers no guilt feelings about changing one's cultural milieu or assimilating completely to another social group. But, somehow, leaving the Jewish fold is looked upon as a disgraceful act of apostasy—a shirking of one's duty that induces all sorts of recriminations or guilt feelings. This, perhaps, accounts for the fact that when asked to identify the nature of his Jewishness, the American Jew, as a rule, will define himself as a member of a religious rather than an ethnic community. One may, of course, entertain serious reservations about the quality of a religious identification which, generally, represents more a superficial act of affiliation rather than a genuine
commitment. The average Jew can hardly be said to subscribe to the theological presuppositions and practices of the various denominations with which he is not even familiar, let alone committed to. One may even dismiss his so-called religiosity as a pragmatic accommodation to the prevailing sociological structure of the American community which favors classification along denominational rather than ethnic lines. One may be hard pressed to define precisely the nature of the supposedly religious character of the American Jewish community. The theological differences among the religious groups (Orthodox—Conservative—Reform) are so pronounced that a so-called common religious denominator is nothing but a myth. Symptomatic of the cleavage is the recent statement of a prominent spokesman for the Reform group who acknowledged that, theologically speaking, his views were much closer to the position of an outright agnostic such as Huxley, than they would be to the beliefs of an orthodox Jew. Whether one considers the sharp denominational differences as a syndrome or as a manifestation of the health of a religious pluralism, one certainly cannot realistically speak of a common religious basis upon which Jewish unity can be achieved under present-day conditions. There is, however, one sense in which we are justified in speaking of the basically religious character of the Jewish community. The very act of belonging to the Jewish community is regarded not just as a voluntary expression of group loyalty. Most Jews vaguely sense that their attachment to "Kelal Yisrael " transcends purely ethnic considerations and possesses religious overtones. It is perhaps an unconscious identification with the "covenantal community." As Professor Fackenheim put it, "the Jew of today who persists in regarding Jewish survival as a duty, either posits something unintelligible, or else he postulates, however unconsciously, the possibility of a return to the faith in the living God." But our insistence that membership in the Jewish community ultimately makes sense only in terms of a relationship to a "covenantal community" need not lead to a disparagement of the value of the sociological or what Arthur Cohen has called the "natural " Jewish community. The more one is committed to Judaism (the faith of the Jewish people), the more one appreciates "Jewishness"— the expression of the folkways, manners and cultural historic idiosyncrasies of the Jewish community. The late Rabbi Kook regarded every genuine manifestation of Jewishness, no matter how secular its external garb, as an incomplete (even if defective) manifestation of a deeply rooted basically religious urge. One need not be a Jewish mystic to appreciate that any form of positive Jewish identification represents a spiritually meaningful act. We may disassociate ourselves from secular Judaism; we may even claim that secular Judaism is a self-contradictory term. And while we may deplore with Maurice Friedman that in "so many communities Jewish belonging and culture are made ends in themselves, divorced from the primary religious commitment to become a holy people," we must recognize that there is some potential religious value even in the identification of the secular Jew with the Jewish community. Even the most irreligious Jew—so the Talmud informs us—is as saturated with Mitzvoth as the pomegranate is with seeds. To the extent that the secular Jew participates in meaningful Jewish activity, he contributes, no matter what his avowed theological position, to the fulfillment of his Jewish destiny. This, of course, does not imply that there is any value in the artificial stimulation of Jewish activity as such, the kind of activity which is designed not for its intrinsic value but solely as an opportunity to express one's Jewishness. Regardless of what we may or may not do, segments of our people will in all probability survive as Jews forming a community of fate, welded together by a combination of internal or external pressures. But, insofar as Jewish survival is to be an achievement, it must be the result of a deliberate effort to instill within the modern Jew a sense of duty to survive as Jew. But this can never be generated or even sustained on the basis of synthetic activities that have no other purpose but to serve as an outlet for Jewish self-expression or Jewish self-identification. Jews have survived not because they lived by a philosophy of survivalism, but their survival was the by-product of an existential commitment to something transcending sheer survival. It can hardly be expected that a rationale for survival can be found in the satisfaction of what has been termed by the Janowsky report' ' supplementary cultural needs. " For is the American Jew really in need of a supplementary culture? Are not the vast resources of the American culture adequate to his requirements ? The cravings for Jewish self-identification are prompted not by supplementary, but fundamental, existential needs. What must be satisfied is not purely a socio-cultural need, but an ontological one, arising from the very core of Jewish being. It is generally agreed that swimming in a Jewish swimming pool will hardly, by itself, make a significant contribution towards strengthening the Jewish will to swim against the currents of assimilation and disintegration. But will Jewish dancing as such, counterbalance the centrifugal forces tending towards dissolution of the Jewish community in the American melting pot.  Just as a Jewish gymnasium cannot supply us with the strength of character to wrestle successfully with the problem of disintegration and attrition, so will Jewish art by itself be unable to fashion a meaningful image of Jewish identity. Can vulgar jokes, even if told in Yiddish, enhance the chance of a Jewish survival? In our quest to develop artificially some synthetic forms of Jewish content or activity to serve as pegs for possible Jewish identification, let us heed the admonition of Arthur Cohen, in The Natural and the Supernatural Jew: "There is no future to a civilization which must, at this moment in history, begin to equip itself with the habiliments o f secular culture, to acquire arte and music which are indigenous, to define folk liturgies and folk pageants, to duplicate and complement the subtler and more developed patterns  of historical nations and peoples. " Indeed, there is nothing more tin natural than the supposedly completely natural Jew who, having repudiated all supernatural elements of Jewish existence, finds himself under a compulsion to engage self-consciously in all forms of activities, not for their intrinsic value or meaning, but simply in order to perform a secular ritual of Jewish self-identification. Jewish survival, as such, hinges upon many diverse factors, largely beyond the control of the organized Jewish community. There is only one area in which the outcome can be significantly affected: the cultivation of the will of the Jew to survive as a Jew. This obviously represents one of the most important positive factors in making for Jewish survival amidst the blandishments of a relatively free and open democratic society. Yet, this all-important will must be grounded not merely on a vaguely sensed superficial desire in competition with many other desires, interests or wants, but upon experience of a sense of obligation. This is why, in the final analysis, only such activities as can reinforce an individual's sense of duty with respect to his belonging to the Jewish people, will have any real bearing upon Jewish survival. It is, therefore, the quality of Jewish survival, rather than sheer survival as such, that should command our primary attention. Little can be gained from providing a basically pointless and meaningless outlet for marginal desires for self-identification. Instead of permitting such desires for Jewish self-identification to be dissipated into a fragmentary "contextual Jewishness" or peripheral "Jewishness b y association, " we should channel them into meaningful Jewish activities that aim at whole-hearted commitment rather than mere "Jewish togetherness." It is only b y striving for meaningful Jewish survival that we can make any appreciable contribution to the very survival of our people. W e should be wary of the pitfalls of what might be called Jewish "collective existentialism" a philosophy of life that would be willing to discard the very essence of Judaism in its attempt to preserve Jewish existence at any price. For, as our historic experiences amply demonstrate, it is the essence of Jewishness that must provide a raison d'etre for Jewish existence. Hence, our primary aim should not be just the retention of some spark of "Jewishness, " lest the individual become completely lost to the community. Our efforts should rather be concentrated on helping the individual to find himself as a Jew and thus make his survival as a Jew more meaningful, creative and purposeful. Our stress upon meaningful Jewish survival assisting the individual Jew in coming to grips with his existential problems will help resolve one of the most delineate and sensitive problems involving the conflict between communal and personal needs. If our ultimate goal  is sheer survival of the group, we, in a sense, tend to sacrifice the individual to the welfare of the group. But can a Jewish social agency, charged with the responsibility of helping the individual, really subscribe to the proposition that "every Jewish communal activity should be engaged in building Judaism? " * Do we have a moral right to treat the individual merely as a means to the perpetuation of a cause ? Is it compatible with the belief in the dignity of the individual to reduce the human person to an instrument of group survival ? It is usually taken for granted that considerations of Jewish group survival transcend the needs of the individual, Thus Professor Baron, in his Social and Religious History of the Jews, contends! that insofar as the classical Jewish position is concerned, the individual as such hardly matters, since "the nation  overshadows the individual." And Professor Kaplan, leaning heavily on Achad Ha'am's glorification of the group, demands that the policies of Jewish social |agencies must be guided by the needs of  Jewish mass survival, even though,  "helping the individual Jew may be entirely compatible with the gradual disappearance of the Jewish people. " But since there is obviously no "pre-established harmony" between individual and communal needs, one might seriously question the propriety of subordinating the welfare of the individual to that of the group. It ought to be borne in mind that, significantly, Jewish normative thinking as crystallized in the Halakhah, never assumed the primacy of the group or community as such. On the contrary, Jewish law stipulates that not a single innocent person may be surrendered to an attacking group of gangsters, even at the risk of the destruction of the entire community. One human life, so the Halakhah rules, has infinite value; it is the equivalent of the entire world. Hence, an individual cannot be sacrificed even to save a large number of people. As Dr. Samuel Belkin formulated the Rabbinic view so succinctly, In His Image, "Nowhere .. . do we find acceptance of the concept that the group, by virtue of its numbers, can create an abstract society which has authority over the individual." Judaism revolves around the rights and duties, the needs and wants of the individual Jew rather than such abstract notions as "communal needs " or "group values." One has, therefore, every right to challenge the view that Jewish agencies should serve as "instruments of group survival." It would appear that on the contrary, the function of the Jewish social agency would be to help the individual Jew meet his total existential needs as a Jew which include the need for a meaningful Jewish experience and commitment. Any contribution to Jewish group survival as such would be merely a function, or a by-product of the effort to help the individual Jew as a Jew. To avoid serious misunderstanding, it is essential to add an important premise. Any assessment of human needs invariably and inevitably contains elements of subjectivity. No matter how none directional a counselor may fancy his [approach to be, he does not operate within a cultural or ethical vacuum. It should be axiomatic that a Jewish social) agency should help clients by developing • rather than stifling their Jewish potential. There certainly is no justification for a Jewish agency to treat Jewish belonging in such a completely neutral manner, as, for example, to assign Jewish children to non-Jewish foster homes. A committed Jew looks upon a Jew's loyalty to his people not merely as a desideratum subject to personal whim or fancy but as a supreme and inescapable duty. Hence, he will obviously include this factor in the evaluation of the personality needs of another Jew and regard it as his responsibility to guide his fellow Jew towards a more meaningful Jewish experience. Jewish social agencies need not have any compunctions about grounding their policies on a sense of duty governing the relationship of the individual Jew to his people. For were it not for the experience of some specific Jewish needs, the client, in most instances, would not be involved with a Jewish agency to begin with. If the Jewish social agency is to make any contribution towards a more meaningful Jewish experience, it must reflect a wholesome approach of Jewish ethical and cultural and religious values. For this purpose, the social group worker requires not merely a passing acquaintance with the socio-cultural background of his clients, nor merely a factual objective knowledge of Jewish values, but a positive affirmative commitment to his Jewishness, so that all the activities of the Jewish social agency can be directly and organically linked to the pursuit of authentic Jewish ideals. There is no reason why, for example, their social actions program should not consciously reflect the quest for Tzedakah, The guiding principles of our so-called secular agencies need not be divorced from the religious idealism embedded in the Jewish heritage. Would not our philanthropic agencies become far more potent instruments for creative survival if their operations would reflect a deliberate attempt to express not merely aspirations of a secular philosophy of social justice, but to exemplify the religious philosophy of our people which regarded the practice of loving-kindness as the tell-tale mark of its identity and as its hope for ultimate national redemption? Would not the cultural program of Jewish centers or Y's become more relevant if a determined effort were made to provide not merely some "Jewish content " but to relate the experience of one's Jewishness to the perplexing dilemmas of our time? If Jewish centers are to enable Jews to meet their needs as Jews, they must offer not merely facilities for "Jewish togetherness," but opportunities for Jewish "meetings " in Buber's sense of the term, who, in his espousal of the life of the dialogue, defined all genuine living as a " meeting,' ' Heinrich Heine, in an often quoted aphorism, once said, "Judaism is not a religion but a misfortune." We might accept that statement with some slight modification. If Judaism is not a religion, if to be a Jew is not charged with religious significance or meaning, then it is only a misfortune. And there is really no point in maintaining facilities for Jewish identification, let alone in worrying about Jewish survival, unless we make "Jewish belonging" existentially meaningful, by treating it not as a vacuous leisure time activity, but as a fulfillment of a sense of vocation and destiny. There is nothing to prevent even a so-called Jewish secular agency from functioning as a creative partner in such an enterprise. Judaism was never synagogue-centered. As Dr. Soloveitchik put it, "Halakhah, which draws divinity into the physical world, does not revolve around congregations or synagogues. They are its minor sanctuaries; its true sanctuary is the realm of life within which the realization of Halakhah takes place."  To claim for the synagogue a monopoly in the continuum of Jewish survival is to deny the organic unity of Jewishness and Judaism, to renounce the uniqueness of our people, and to emaciate the body politic of our people b y turning it into a purely religious denomination— a mere shadow of its full and vibrant self. Yet, Jewish secular agencies, in turn, must abandon their last vestiges of militant secularism and allow themselves to become exponents of a positive Jewish survival that rests upon a religious commitment to the "Kelal Yisrael" and the organic unity of Jewishness and Judaism. When Jewish social agencies will not be merely Jewish-sponsored, but Jewish in aim and commitment, they will be able to contribute to a growing recognition of the indivisibility of Jewishness and Judaism which reaches into every phase of private and social activity. Jews and Judaism have been joined together from the very beginning of our history and no amount of historic scholarship, theological sophistry, sociological jargon or plain unadulterated arrogance can rend them asunder. Unless the two components reinforce each other, there is little hope for creative survival. As Chaim Nachman Bialik put it so convincingly, a wholesome Jewish orientation is compounded of a mixture of "Chibah" (love) and "Chovah" (duty). We must provide for our children an atmosphere in which they can develop loving attachment to "Mother Israel" and fondness for everything Jewish, together with a sense of responsibility and duty towards the ethical and spiritual obligations of Judaism. It is out of this union of love and duty, of Jewishness and Judaism, that there will be born a generation which will be able to keep its rendezvous with Jewish destiny and thus make a contribution to creative Jewish survival.

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