Year-End Buffet

“What’s wrong with Judaism?” “Why do so many Jews disconnect from their faith?” “Why is it so hard to get them to go to shul?” “If Judaism is now a choice, why do so few Jews choose it?”

I thought I would end the year by ruminating on some of these questions, which I hear time and time again from concerned Jews. But instead of just ruminating, I thought I would also try to put an answer on the table — or at least an idea that can guide efforts to make Judaism more relevant to all Jews.

What got me thinking about all this is the recent emphasis in the Jewish community on the issue of ethics. I can’t tell you how many articles I’ve read or sermons I’ve heard that have touched on this. Ethics is now the subject of many conferences and debates. It’s the Jewish topic du jour.

Now, at first glance, it’s impossible to criticize a message of morality. I mean, how can anyone argue with Thou Shalt Not Steal? How can you be against a sermon or conference that reminds us of the importance of following the laws of the land and being impeccably honest?

I guess, though, that that’s precisely my problem: this stuff is too easy. It doesn’t really challenge us. It admonishes the guilty and reminds the innocent, but it doesn’t seduce us into exploring our Judaism.

In fact, I think if there’s anything stopping Judaism from thriving today, it’s the fact that it’s being hijacked by the moralists. Do good. Be good. Speak good. The message is so obvious and true and important that rarely does anyone look at it and say, “Is that all there is?”

Imagine yourself as a bright Jewish college student who doesn’t see or feel a need to connect to Judaism. Zionism is not your thing. So what will entice you to connect to your faith? A pitch on the goodness of Jewish values, or the goodness of peoplehood, or the goodness of tradition or tikkun olam or doing mitzvot?

What if goodness is not really a hot button for you — either because you already see yourself as a good person who does good deeds, or because you feel you can get this goodness message from other places?

Well, then, Judaism won’t have much to offer you, which is sadly true for millions of Jews today.

Of course, Judaism has plenty to offer — it’s one long buffet full of wonderful delights: morality, prayer and Torah, yes, but also centuries of history, philosophy, poetry, music, literature, theater, mysticism and humor, among other things.

The problem is that individual groups or movements have attached themselves to one section of the buffet, ignored the others, and said, “Here! This is Judaism!” Torah-observant Jews might ignore history and literature. Cultural Jews might ignore Torah and prayer. Spiritual Jews and tikkun olam Jews might ignore both, and so on. Yet each one will claim, “This is Judaism!”

Rarely will any group present the whole buffet or cross outside of their comfort zones (Limmud being a notable exception). I’ve spent twenty years in Orthodox shuls, for example, and I think I can count on one hand the classes or sermons that have dealt with Jewish poetry or literature.

By the same token, many of my friends who are “cultural Jews” have written off Torah study as being outdated and irrelevant.

My point is this: Jews would be a lot more interested in exploring their Judaism if they saw it as a buffet full of different delights, rather than a restaurant with one or two items on the menu — especially if those items are predictable servings of morality.

We focus so much on the obvious virtues — honesty, faith, compassion, integrity, humility, generosity, etc. — that we seem to forget the one virtue that makes us feel the most alive: curiosity.

Yet curiosity is the virtue that not only can entice disconnected Jews to explore their Judaism, it’s also the virtue that can bring Jews closer together. What is real love if not the desire or curiosity to get to know — rather than judge — the Other?

Unfortunately, there’s no money in curiosity. It’s not easy to control your flock when you encourage them to spread their wings and sample the many delights of their faith. Who knows where they might end up? Falling for Jewish literature or history? Becoming more Torah-observant? Joining another Jewish community?

Ironically, for Judaism to thrive in the next century, we will need to violate the first rule of marketing: finding your niche and promoting the hell out of it. We’re niching ourselves to death. Whichever niche you’re in, whichever section of the buffet you’re promoting, it would behoove all movements of Judaism to mix it up and add a few more items to their menus.

Think about it. If you see a beautiful spread with an array of choices, you might criticize one of the choices, but chances are you won’t criticize the whole buffet. Judaism deserves nothing less.

Happy New Year.

David Suissa is the founder of OLAM magazine. You can read his daily blog at suissablog.com and e-mail him at dsuissa@olam.org.