The future of Zionism - Parashat Lech Lecha 5785
What makes a passionate Zionist and proud Israeli Rabbi move from our ancient land to southwest Florida?
(I’m asking for a very close friend of mine)
Is there any future for Zionism outside the beginning of the eternal bond between the people of Israel and its land? I’m not comparing myself to Avraham Avinu, but as we learned this week in our Breakfast after minyan, even the first Zionist, Avram, left the land of Israel as soon as he arrived!
During these troubled times, the word Zionism is perceived as a politically incorrect concept. We are allowed to say that we are Jews, but zionists? “Oh my God! That’s offensive.” But Zionism is way more than a political or party ideology; it is the renewal of the Jewish spirit. Zionism is probably the most outstanding Jewish revolution after the creation of Rabbinical Judaism two thousand years ago.
Lekh Lekha, the first order Avram receives from God, leaving his house, birthplace, and family to an unknown place, is the symbolic journey of every Jew. Each one of the terms in the opening phrase of this Parashah speaks about a different belonging circle: מארצך, ממולדתך, ומבית אביך. From your land, from your birthplace, and your father’s house.
Since then, our people have had a strong connection with that land; no matter where we were or how hard it was, we always hoped to come back, and we did. And here I am today, speaking to you thousands of miles away, believing firmly that Zionism and our connection to Israel are more relevant than ever!
The following teachings came to me through a wonderful book called “A Passion for a People,” written by a great Jewish Educator, Avraham Infeld. What a coincidence, Avraham, Parashat Lekh Lekha!
He explains the complexity of being a majority and a minority at the same time, which happens to confuse us on many levels:
“The truth is that Israelis today are part of a collective that is both a majority and a minority. In their own state, they are a majority, but they are a minority in the Muslim Middle East, and as part of the Jewish People, they are a minority in the Christian West. They live with both of these possibilities at the same time. Getting used to being a majority takes time, and they sometimes, both individually and collectively, still behave as one when they should be behaving as the other. The contemporary Israeli psychosis is not knowing what we are and making mistakes by behaving as one when we should be behaving as the other.”
For the first time in thousands of years, there is a place where Jews are a Majority in their ancient land, which is exposed as a small minority in the Middle East. As a proud Jew and a passionate Zionist, that’s part of the reasons I moved to Israel.
However, part of this complexity made the state of Israel become fixated intensely on everything related to Jewish identity, something that paradoxically bothers many Israelis and distances them from Judaism. As I’ve told you, in Israel, if I performed or conducted any wedding ceremony that was not recognized by the Jewish state. The people I helped convert to Judaism were not recognized as Jews by the state of Israel. I wasn’t officially recognized there as a Rabbi. But on October 7th, I was called to duty, and like many other Israelis who disagree with that reality, we showed up for our country. Because we love it, we don’t always like it, but we always love it. Unfortunately, all this Jewish spirituality in the diaspora is less known in Israel. At the same time, the richness of the Jewish people in Israel is not felt in the diaspora.
Infeld suggests to use two ancient Jewish concepts related to prayer to deal with this duality: Keva and Kavanah:
“Jewish tradition values both the routine and the spontaneous in Jewish life. In ways that sometimes appear contradictory, the Rabbis used the term Keva, which translates as ‘routine’ or ‘regularity,’ as both positive and negative. In Pirkei Avot (2:13), they teach: ‘When you pray, don’t make your prayers fixed’; in other words, don’t let your relationship with God become rote and mundane. Yet, close by in the same section (1:15), they also teach us: ‘Make your study of Torah regular.’
These two conceptions of Keva can be seen in the different approaches to Jewish life today in Israel and the Diaspora. Jewish life in the Diaspora is essentially spontaneous; it isn’t regulated and depends almost entirely on the free choice of the people involved.”
This is why we feel the strong commitment of people here and in other congregations: voluntarism, philanthropy, and community.
“As a result of these values, Diaspora Jews are remarkably generous and have built strong community institutions. There is great creativity and individual choice in this Jewish life; indeed, every Jew outside Israel is, perforce, a Jew by choice.”
And we all know that the situation is different in Israel. Jewish life in Israel is regulated, fixed, and controlled by certain institutions. A real “Keva”. Not only in matters of Jewish rituals but in things that could eventually affect other Jews all over the globe.
“Rather than volunteering out of choice, the State requires national or military service; rather than encouraging people to donate money to causes they care about, the State taxes its citizens and uses that money to fund institutions that Jews in the Diaspora fund themselves. Finally, the state takes responsibility for many functions run by community institutions. The government of Israel legislates a great deal about what it means to be Jewish; it defines the calendar of Holidays, decides who is recognized as a rabbi, and regulates what religious services are offered and how. While there is much to be gained from this – the government pays for religious services, some religious rights are enshrined in the law, and Jewish culture rules the public space – we have, at the same time, lost the advantages of spontaneity according to which individuals are empowered to create their own Jewish life and to define who or what is a Jew.”
Exploring Jewish spontaneity and living among other passionate Jews who care for each other, while I don’t feel like a “second-class rabbi,” is part of the reasons we got here. It does not make us less Israelis or less Zionist, neither makes us less Jewish. The answer to this complexity was addressed by the funding father of the Zionist movement, Theodore Herzl of Blessed Memory. I will bring his words to you in a minute. Just let me remind you who he was: a secular Jew, almost assimilated, living as a European citizen, who became a Jewish activist after he felt the antisemitism in the context of the Dreyfus affair.
During the first Zionist congress in Basel in 1897, Herzl said:
“We want to lay the foundation stone for the house which will become the refuge of the Jewish nation. Zionism is the return to Judaism even before the return to the land of Israel.”
Zionism is the return to Judaism even before the return to the land of Israel. It is not about a piece of land; it is about all the pieces of the land wherever the Jews are living on them. It is about returning to our roots and sources and making us proud of our traditions, practices, and values.
Parashat Lekh Lekha, opens with that two words: Go, for yourself. Lekh Lekha. This journey is for your own sake, not for the purpose of the land, but for the people. לך לך
Some people believe that the ultra-orthodox Jews, the Hareidi Jews are antizionist because they believe that no Jewish state should be established before the Mashiah comes. But maybe, some of them are afraid that we are replacing the ancient Jewish tradition with a national movement for the Jews. And nobody wants that, so part of being Israel supporters, is not only to wear this pin, to pray for the country, and to wave an Israeli flag, but to go back, to return to the source of Judaism. As the founding father of Zionism said: “Zionism is the return to Judaism even before the return to the land of Israel.” And as our founding father, Avram was told: “Go forth from your native land and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.”
Shabbat Shalom.