The Problem with Children

I write these words with the greatest hesitation.  During my years as a rabbi I have written and preached on may subjects – some painful, some humorous and some instructive – none more trying than what I want to share with you here.

I can write with certainty that there is no American family that does not have members who have married out of the fold.  No absolute figures exist but experience tells me that it is amazingly high.   How then can we have any assurance that our children, much less the next generations, will be Jewish?

We had cause in previous generations to wring our hands over the issues raised by intermarriage.  Once, seems like a long time ago, the Jewish community turned its back on those that married outside the faith.  Nowadays, we are committed and deeply concerned about survival of the Jewish people.  We hold that the Mosaic code and Talmudic heritage is a unique bequest to its heirs and must, at all costs, not be abandoned or lost.   And yet there is reason to be worried.  We are part of a covenanted nation whose Divine connection from Abraham until today was inviolate, unbroken no matter the terrors of hatred of the past that faced us.  The fear of the outside world kept Jewish families intact buy intra-marrying.  The cultural mixing between Jew and gentile was never a thought in past generations as such combinations were simply not possible.  In this post-Holocaust generation an additional incentive has been added to our consciousness, not to grant Hitler a posthumous victory.

Two generations ago intermarriage was a rare phenomenon.  So unusual was an interfaith marriage that one who defied the wishes of his family and community was cut off.  It was not unusual in years past for shiva to be observed, as if the child that married out had died.

As time passed and intermarriage became more pronounced and usual, clearer thinking prevailed.  If the child married out what good would it do for them or for us, to disown them?  As long as there were relations between family members there was some hope that the children might be brought up to become Jews.

More time passed and the tide of out-marriage did not return to what it used to be, it accelerated.  However there were two extreme reactions worthy of note.  One was a s shift to the right from the right.  The religious observant became moreso.  Some, seeing the move away from intra-marriage pushed the religious boundaries to the right, under the protective shelter of Orthodoxy, even ultra-Orthodoxy.  In a conscious move to protect their families from intermarriage (and in some instances to absolve themselves from guilt) they fled.  The other recognizable trend was to move to the left.   Distancing themselves from the growing right, many cast the blame for their misfortune on their faith.  “If only the community could be more modern, more flexible!” they mourned.

Both responses tended to find penance or relief from guilt in the extremes.

Some years ago I read a moving article entitled, “Guess Who’s Coming to Seder?”  The autobiographical pieces dealt with one young man’s uncomfortable seder when he brought his girlfriend home.  Reactions were mixed.  This is what was written,

“I can’t argue with you now Michael, and I can’t even stop you if you really want to get married.  But I will tell you this, and you should know that I mean it: If you marry that girl I won’t be there.  I’ll never be part of such a wedding.  And if you have children later on, I won’t want to see them either, I’ll still love you, and you’ll still be my son.  Bu they won’t e my grandchildren as far as I’m concerned.”

The writer of the story was intentional. He concluded that the son broke off his relationship with the girl, married a Jewish balaboosta, and lived happily ever after (as far as the article went).  However, it might not have ended in such a positive way.  It is quite possible that the son may have left the table, turned away from his parents and never saw them again.  Later in the story the parents admitted that it was very scary telling their son what they said to him.

Honesty in the parent-child relationship is critical.  Regrets, reservations and hopes must be expressed.  It is also vital to understand that our expectations of the next generation must be as real as our connection with our center.  In other words, we cannot expect our children to love or cherish what we have neglected.  We cannot expect them to value what we think, but do not observe.