Rediscovering my inner Judaism amid the Israel-Hamas War - opinion

Those of us born Jews needed the horrible proof of October 7th to make our faith stronger. Hallelujah for that.

 A SUPPORT for Israel concert takes place at Park Avenue Synagogue, in New York City.  (photo credit: ED ADLER)
A SUPPORT for Israel concert takes place at Park Avenue Synagogue, in New York City.
(photo credit: ED ADLER)

The tragedy of October 7 when Hamas terrorists killed 1200 Jews and disgustingly raped and tortured so many others may have ignited an unexpected outcome. Just as an Israel divided over judicial reform came together in the wake of the Hamas attacks, countless American Jews feel closer to their roots and their wider Jewish community, brought together not only by the horror of October 7 but also by the wider antisemitism it exposed within our own liberal world.

I am one.

I asked Rabbi Dan Geffen of Temple Adas Israel in the small village of New York’s Sag Harbor if he sees those like me rediscovering an emotional identification with Judaism considering October 7.

“Our attendance at services has been much higher than normal for this time of year and our Hebrew school has almost doubled in size. Many of those parents have literally said that after October 7th they felt differently about their Jewish identity. They felt it was especially important for their children to be in Hebrew school and connected to a Jewish community,” he observes.

Restoring interest in a declining faith: Judaism

These aftershocks are probably a good development for a faith that has seen declining numbers and a lack of interest from young people. Many young people felt it was uncool to identify as Jews. But now, more seem to be reconnecting to what is deeply rooted in their DNA.

Downtown Manhattan's skyline is seen in New York City, US, August 21, 2021. (credit: REUTERS/ANDREW KELLY/FILE PHOTO)
Downtown Manhattan's skyline is seen in New York City, US, August 21, 2021. (credit: REUTERS/ANDREW KELLY/FILE PHOTO)

Growing up in the Upper East Side bubble of New York’s Manhattan many decades ago, I always felt comfortable with being Jewish but didn’t care much about the religion and never felt threatened because of my background. Israel, to me, was a faraway abstraction and certainly not a potential refuge from hatred. I always felt distant from Israel until a first visit five years ago with my adult children. My eyes began to open to the greatly diverse accomplished country it has been.

New York City has always been one place that an assimilated Jew did not have to feel a deep connection to the religion or to Israel to identify as culturally Jewish. I never thought it odd that Manhattan slowed down on the Jewish holidays Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. It was normal that a pastrami sandwich and matzah ball soup were New York staples and available throughout the city. All New Yorkers love bagels and lox, deli food, Jewish comedians, so I thought how could they not like us? Yet, being in a New York City bubble made one feel immune to prejudice.

I never equated being Jewish with Zionism. That’s politics, I thought. I resisted when my wife wanted to go to temple. I found it boring, archaic, and out of touch with the current cultural zeitgeist. The liturgy never changes I said, and no wonder so many young people feel disconnected from the religion and are leaving in droves.

Yet as I got older, there were certain old-fashioned views to which I gravitated. I was so proud when my son married a Jewish woman and I firmly believe that a union has a better chance of succeeding when the partners are in cultural alignment.

GROWING UP in a very liberal family I always believed that as a Jew I had a connection with other minorities. I never doubted that if one hated Jews that hatred of blacks, LGBTQ people, Hispanics and even Muslins couldn’t be far behind. Hate for one is hate for all.

In the late sixties, my dad volunteered, and my younger brother attended Park East, a progressive experimental public school in East Harlem. Dad always taught our family that care for the downtrodden and supporting the Civil Rights movement was important. Fighting racism as Jews was our duty, he preached.

I was a liberal New Yorker secure in myself who embraced diversity with open arms.

So, it makes me sad today to see so many Jews advocating hate toward blacks and Muslims. It also is equally sad that many groups don’t see the Jews as a persecuted minority and willing to extend their support.

But Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove of New York City’s Park Avenue Synagogue sees a chance for more alignment with non-Jewish groups as he sees many Jews rediscovering an emotional connection to their background.

In a recent interview with The Jerusalem Post he said “One of the sub-narratives is a great awakening of American Jewry. I think you’ll hear a more assertive Jewish voice within secular institutions and see more concerted effort to build relationships with churches, civic organizations, and other like-minded groups. It would be a terrible mistake for Jewish people to circle the wagons. Now is the time to build bridges with other communities.

During Hanukkah this year, Cosgrove’s Park Avenue Synagogue hosted an inspiring night of song and invited Black, Christian, and Presbyterian clergy to sing with Jews of all stripes. This diverse group embraced us in our moment of darkness. It touched emotions for many in the sanctuary and some even cried tears of relief and joy that people were supporting Jews.

Singing along in the temple that night I felt a deep connection to my Judaism. Seeing these people come together was also a reminder that we must unite against hate. But after October 7th, I feel vulnerable to the Jew-hatred that is raging on all sides and emanating from many corners of the world.

And now I and other cynical Jews I know seem to be finding solace rediscovering our roots. Why is this happening?

Says Geffen, “It is hard to know exactly why, but I imagine it’s a similar response to the way people feel after the have some kind of ‘wake-up moment’ perhaps after a near fatal incident or the like and the person then begins to ask some fundamental questions about what is most important to them and that something that was once taken for granted can no longer be.”

He adds, “I have not seen a specific increase in religious observance or in terms of belief in God, but it could be the case from some who otherwise would have viewed themselves before as cultural, agnostic, or atheist Jewish.”

Pondering these changes occurring in many of us, I thought of the verse in the great Leonard Cohen song “Hallelujah” – “Your faith was strong, but you needed proof.”

Those of us born Jews needed the horrible proof of October 7th to make our faith stronger. Hallelujah for that.

The writer, a Manhattan native, is a partner in a global strategic communications firm.