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.
