In this series
(For the first article in this series, click here.)
As America is becoming more politically polarized, American Jews are becoming more theologically polarized. According to Pew surveys, four in ten Jewish adults under 30 describe their religion as atheist, agnostic, or “nothing in particular” rather than Jewish. But 17 percent from 18 to 29 self-identify as Orthodox, compared with just 3 percent of Jews 65 and older.
The two opposed divisions in American Judaism are Orthodox and Reform, which has a similar place in Judaism as theological liberalism does in Christianity. In Judaism, a middle-of-the-road group is called Conservative, and 4 percent of Jews belong to branches like Reconstructionists (as my father was), who believe religious tradition is important but don’t believe in God. Five percent of Americans raised in Jewish households (including me) have faith in Jesus.
Orthodox and Reform Jews share genes but sometimes not much more. Pew research shows half of Orthodox Jews in the US saying they have “not much” or “nothing at all” in common with Jews in the Reform movement. Just 9 percent feel they have “a lot” in common with Reform Jews. The alienation goes the other way as well: Six in ten Reform Jews say they have “not much” or “nothing” in common with the Orthodox. Recent events and social media attacks, though, have reminded all Jews, regardless of belief, that they are one people. Nazis did not make distinctions.
Two leading products of American culture exemplify two kinds of Jewish households. Seinfeld ruled American television during the 1990s, ending its final season in 1998 on top of the Nielsen ratings. NBC entertainment head Brandon Tartikoff, a Jewish graduate of Yale, thought Seinfeld would flunk out because it was “too Jewish,” but the humor struck a chord.
Why? Like Woody Allen’s films, Seinfeld offered wildly stereotypical but entertaining portrayals. Many Reform Jews are thoughtful and committed, but there’s something in the Reform Jewish blogger Robert Schurz’s self-description as a “Seinfeld Jew” with “a worldly set of values” but also “pride in the artistic, literary, scientific, and political contributions of Jews all over the world.”
A cultural milestone that offered a different impression of Judaism was The Chosen, the 1967 novel by Chaim Potok that spent 39 weeks on bestseller lists, selling 3.4 million copies. It portrayed Orthodox families and teenagers who studied the Talmud, as Jews had done for centuries. In those days Talmud study seemed to be dying out, but it’s now making a comeback, particularly among the one-sixth of American Jews from 18 to 29 who are Orthodox.
Few evangelicals know about the role of the Talmud in Jewish life throughout the centuries. As Jewish sage Jacob Neusner wrote, “Nearly all Christians view Judaism not as a religion in its own terms, but merely as Christianity without Christ, pretty much the same religion but deeply flawed by the rejection of you know who. … Few grasp that Judaism is not merely ‘not-Christianity.’”
That’s true. To put it another way, traditional Judaism has, in a loose sense, its own new testament, the Talmud, encyclopedia-length and compiled from rabbinical debate during the five centuries after Christ. The Talmud records many mutually conflicting rabbinical views: It should not be thought of as a work of dogma, a catechism, or Scripture. The Talmud backstory is that Moses wrote down many of God’s instructions but that God also gave him an oral Torah that elucidated the text in countless ways. From a Jewish perspective, those teachings form the basis of Jewish tradition.
That backstory stayed back for a millennium, as temple sacrifices were a physical way of demonstrating devotion. Until AD 70, Jews could show their faith in God by following his rules for conduct, but they also had ritual sacrifice. Temple slaughterers must sometimes have been wading in blood, as those aware that they had broken the rules sacrificed cattle, sheep, doves, and other animals.
When Roman armies destroyed the temple in 70, they eliminated that safety net. Thereafter, rabbis argued that since their eternal lives depended on observing the rules, Jews had better not even come close to breaking them. The way to do that was to set up a second set of rules far beyond the biblical set. Saying they were merely going by the oral Torah, Talmudic rabbis created a new safety net by regulating almost every aspect of behavior throughout the week.
For example, where Exodus 23:19 states, “Do not cook a young goat in its mother’s milk,” the Talmud says goats should not be cooked in any milk. Lips touching goat were not to touch milk at the same meal. Meat and dairy products of any kind could never be eaten together or within a period of several hours. Dishes or utensils used in one class of food were not to be used with another.
The Bible stipulates that God rested from his work on the Sabbath and his followers should do so also. Talmudic rabbis saw melakhah—the Hebrew word often translated as “work”—as any creative activity. They laid out 39 categories of forbidden activity, including sowing, plowing, reaping, grinding, kneading, baking, shearing wool, and spinning.
To preclude any transgression, they defined those activities expansively. Forbidden activities included weaving or separating two threads or more. Tying, untying, or sewing two stitches or more. Tearing, writing, or erasing two or more letters. Kindling a fire. Carrying any object outside the home.
To this day, Orthodox Jews do not light a fire of any kind on the Sabbath. Since driving a car requires putting a key into the ignition, which produces a spark, driving is prohibited. Animals also should not work on the Sabbath. Any use of electricity—turning on a light or a stove, opening a refrigerator that turns on a light—is also forbidden. (The refrigerator light is normally taped so as not to go on.)
Rabbis in essence tell followers, Behave the way you know you should. You can do it. Discipline your behavior, and your heart will eventually change. Observe rituals before you know why, and understanding will come. The idea is that the rules, if followed, will so restrain our evil impulses that we will act in a decent way most of the time. Talmudic wisdom passed from one generation of sages to the next, with vigorous debate about practical applications, spiritual meaning, and much else.
