Why I Am a Religious Woman

As I was preparing a sign to take to last night's demonstration in Jerusalem against right-wing thuggery, it occurred to me that I've been doing this for a long time. Not often enough, I admit, but I started going to demonstrations (against the Vietnam war) in high school, and I'm now well up in my sixth decade.

So where has it gotten me, all this demonstrating? Has it had an effect? Is the world a better place?

With age, I become more skeptical. The world -- the human world -- doesn't seem to be showing any less warts than it did 40-odd years ago. Or 4000-odd years ago, when the Torah had G!d declaring that "the inclination of the human heart is wicked from its youth." Is peace in the Middle East possible? Can humans learn to live together tolerantly, without exploiting, shunning, wounding and killing? Can religion inspire without giving way to obscurantism? Can the natural world survive us?

No, as I grow older, I tend more toward the perspective of Ecclesiastes, though perhaps there are some new things under the sun. Our urge to mass slaughter and environmental destruction have not changed much, but our ability to make good on them has grown.

Do I think G!d will save (the state of) Israel? Did G!d do that in the past? No, I think G!d's pretty much put that in our hands. And our hands are shaking a lot, lately. Messiah is something accomplished by humans of faith, who can produce good leaders (who stay good) and follow them in good directions. Think about it.

So if I think our efforts are unlikely to redeem the world, and more likely to make us look like laughingstocks in a world that glorifies money and power, why am I still at it?

That, my friends, is faith. I believe in the Torah's commands to do good and be just, however short I fall. I believe we are commanded to keep trying, tenaciously, no matter what. Even if there's little hope of success. Even if they laugh at us or throw things at us. That, too, will keep happening. The world hangs between destructive and constructive forces. We are commanded to keep trying to tip the balance, and to create faith communities for that purpose.

I believe, too, in the extraordinary power of art, in the inspiration to beauty rooted in Spirit, in truths that lie beyond what we can intellectualize. It's not just the hand of the artist, natural or human; it's our eye -- our senses and mind -- programmed to receive and recognize all this, to be inspired and, sometimes, to inspire. To see and, sometimes, to be changed.

There's a spiritual dimension to human relationships, too -- to our ability to connect, communicate, empathize, share and help. And somehow, from what I have seen, those relationships grow best in communities that create common ground and prioritize connecting, communicating, empathizing, sharing and helping in light of a common purpose.

Do you need to be a religious Jew, or a religious person, to believe in all this? Well, no. Sometimes religion can distract from these very purposes. There are many paths of truth, of the same spirit that shows itself in art and in relationships. There are also many paths that lead astray, and even some of them have sparks of spirit in them.

To me, though, it is faith that keeps turning me toward the big issues, bringing them into focus even in the cacophony of religious voices pointing in several different directions. It is faith that keeps directing me to go back and try again. That spirit that shows itself in the pursuit of the good, the just and the holy, in bringing communities together, and in the appreciation of beauty -- my word for it is G!d, though some have other words for it. And I've found nothing better than a community of faith to create and bind human relationships, by rooting them in the joint pursuit of the holy. Ultimately -- because I do live in a community -- it is religion that holds it all together for me.

And that's why you'll still find me at another demonstration -- for a cause that may not be identified with religion.

Why I Support Israel's Tent Protesters -- And Why You Should, Too

"When you have eaten your fill, and have built fine houses to live in, and your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold have increased, and everything you own has prospered, beware lest your heart grow haughty and you forget your God ... And you say to yourselves, 'My own power and the might of my own hand have won this wealth for me. ...' For your God is ... the great, the mighty and the awesome God, who shows no favor and takes no bribe, but upholds the cause of the fatherless and the widow, and befriends the stranger, providing food and clothing." (Deut. 8:12-14, 17; 10:17-18 -- from this week's Torah portion)

According to this morning's paper, the month-long movement of social protest here in Israel has aroused little interest and less support around the world. With a world in financial crisis; existential threats to Israel's security -- grimly brought home to us yet again today; a diplomatic stalemate and a cratering image; deep cracks in Israel's democracy; boycotts to fight (or support) -- why take an interest in a scraggly group of youths in shorts and tank tops, lounging around in tents and keeping their lips tightly buttoned on all of the above issues? You might say that, but I think you'd be wrong. From where I sit, those kids look like Israel's last, best hope.

Full disclosure: My son is at one of the tent camps now, in the center of Jerusalem. He's almost 25, post-combat service, post-volunteering in a kibbutz and in a home for troubled teenagers, post-Jewish study year, now going into his second year at the Hebrew University. A serious young man, just starting out in life, not untypical of dozens of young men and women of his generation. He's grown up in a middle-class home and never known hunger or deprivation, though he's met those who have. He has a strong Jewish and Israeli identity. And he's convinced that Israel needs a new social contract -- convinced enough to set it at the very top of his personal list of priorities. Convinced enough to spend night after night at the tent camp, deep in discussion of how to bring about a change in Israel's direction.

My son belongs to a generation that's come of age and realized that what the Promised Land promises them, under current conditions, is a life of increasing debt, in which two professional salaries are not enough to make ends meet; an economy that's been sold out to a handful of tycoons and cartels; a struggling "free" education system in which all that's free are the teacher and the blackboard, and everything else, if it's available at all, comes at a price; a deteriorating public health system; an environment that's being devoured to create housing for the rich; and a society that leaves its poor and needy without the resources to get on their feet. The kids who are out there demonstrating are the strong ones. They don't need handouts and aren't asking for them. They're asking for a stake in society, not just for themselves, but also for the less fortunate. They're asking for a society made over according to their ideals.

Many of these kids are quite well aware that the ongoing diplomatic and political stalemate has produced a stalemated society. But they know that airing these issues will create dissension, where they need unity to create change. One of the most remarkable aspects of this movement is how little rancor it has produced. These are the kids who finished their army or national service and went off to see the world. Their travels made them realize how deeply Israeli they are and how much they love their language and their country, even when it gives them so little. They're smart, resourceful and fun-loving; give them a square meter for a tent, and they'll do the rest. They could give up and go elsewhere, but for the moment, they don't want to. They want the Promised Land to turn back into their Land of Promise.

These kids, if we keep them, are set to become the backbone of Israel's society. They're our future, which means that they also hold the key to the future of the country and -- at least to an extent -- of the Jewish people. Let them down, and we're lost.

So, shouldn't they be talking about those existential problems that are of such grave concern to Jews around the world? The stalemated situation that's partially responsible for society's woes? The injustices towards Israel's second-class citizens and third-class non-citizens? I say: wait. Once the issue of social injustice has been raised and aired; once it's allowed to stay and be debated in the public space, it demands examination of the whole society.

This movement that's brought hundreds of thousands out into the public space is the only one on the horizon that has the potential to break the stalemates and open minds to imagine different futures. If you're hoping for an Israel that can grow, change and forge ahead -- give it your love and support.