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With the return of the Jewish people to the Land of Israel, a new paradigm emerged that allowed for the integration of secular Jews into the redemptive script.
By AHARON E. WEXLER JANUARY 31, 2025 08:09
An illustrative image of IDF soldiers.
(photo credit: FLASH90)
The events of Oct. 7 have changed everything for us as Jews living in the State of Israel, as well as for our brothers and sisters abroad. How exactly things have changed will only be realized with the benefit of hindsight. This should not, however, prevent us from trying to help birth at least some of the changes we believe should and must happen because of this war.
One critical shift, in my view, must involve a broader and more inclusive Jewish theology – one that fully recognizes secular Jews not only for their extraordinary contributions to building the Jewish state but also for their inherent worth; not for their potential as future religious Jews but for their present as who they are.
In exile over the last two millennia, we needed to define ourselves by our adherence to Halacha, or Jewish law. What alternative did we have, living as a minority among often hostile populations?
Without a physical homeland, strict adherence to Halacha offered the Jew a virtual spatial interiority to inhabit. It allowed us to live in concert with divine will while simultaneously fostering a sense of community and shielding us from the influence of the gentile world. The rabbis intentionally and brilliantly built the halachic system in the wake of the Temple’s destruction to create a “portable homeland.”
While the Talmud is often referred to as a “sea,” I like to think of it more as an “ark,” the purpose of which is to protect its passengers while ferrying them across turbulent waters – from the Temple’s destruction to its eventual rebuilding.
Some of the innovations in the wake of the Temple’s destruction included the synagogue, which replaced the Jerusalem Temple’s physical sacrifices with prayers and abstraction. A synagogue could be built anywhere in the world and God would rest His presence there. Instead of Temple services led only by priests and Levites, any male Jew over 13 would be able to lead congregational prayer in a synagogue.
This democratization caused Rabbinic Judaism to become more inclusive than its former Temple-based version and to create more points of adherence for the average Jew to connect with God, fellow Jews, and the commandments.
By delineating halachic observance as the line of who was “in” and who was “out,” Judaism protected itself and its people, and managed to survive the challenges, disasters, and occasional relative calm experienced in the Diaspora.
Returning to Israel and the devotion of secular Jews
With the return of the Jewish people to the Land of Israel, a new paradigm emerged that allowed for the integration of secular Jews into the redemptive script. The unwavering devotion and sacrifice of secular Jews in building up the Land of Israel and its eventual state and institutions, and their remarkable success in so doing, have compelled Judaism to grapple with the existence of Jews committed to both their Jewish identity and their fellow Jews, yet lacking in halachic observance.
This phenomenon can also be observed in the Diaspora, where numerous secular Jewish philanthropists and communal workers dedicate their time, wealth, and lives to the preservation and advancement of Jewish peoplehood.
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The very notion of a “good Jew” who does not keep kosher or observe the Sabbath offered a challenge to the rabbis and is still too new to be fully integrated into the Jewish religious Weltanschauung, which is famously slow in adapting to new ideas.
A LOT of this appreciation for secular Jews can be attributed to Rabbi Abraham Isaac HaKohen Kook, the first Ashkenazi chief rabbi of pre-state Palestine, a century ago. A deeply spiritual man, renowned for his love and devotion to his fellow Jews, Rav Kook found a language of inclusion that afforded value to secular Jews, whom he saw as an integral part of the divine plan.
At the turn of the current century, this idea of Rav Kook’s was twisted by some who characterized his acceptance of secular Jews as strictly utilitarian, as if the value of secular Jews lay solely in what they were able to “get done,” not in who they were. His critics were either cynical secular Jews who felt insulted by this acceptance as if they were “the Messiah’s donkey” or observant Jews who were not yet able to digest his message.
Nevertheless, Rav Kook’s inclusion of secular Jews on an equal footing with the religious was unequivocal. It is a lesson we must learn from him.
The current war has only exacerbated the need to create more unity among our people at home and abroad, but it has also proven that the old demarcation lines no longer help us; they weaken us.
The dedication shown by all strata of Israeli society must allow us to create more room in our minds and in our faith that can see secular and religious Jews as equal partners in the Jewish future.
When I pray thrice daily for the righteous among our people, the mental image I once had of an old pious Jew wearing a tallit has been replaced by that of a young Jew standing on the border of Lebanon wearing an IDF uniform. Is there anyone more righteous than that?
And this, that the rabbis of old will be replaced by the figure of the new Jew, is precisely what the haredi public fears most about enlisting in the military. Truth be told, they should be worried because that is exactly the direction that Jewish fate is pushing us toward.
For those of us who believe fully in the divine word, for those of us who believe less, and most importantly for those of us who do not believe at all, we are still one people with one shared destiny.
We need to see and recognize the very best in each other and appreciate the different gifts each of us has to offer the other without trying to make the “other” more like “us.” ■
The writer has a doctorate in Jewish philosophy and teaches in post-high-school yeshivot and midrashot in Jerusalem.
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