Ehud Neor's "call to action"

Israeli Jews have a job to do. So do those of us in the Diaspora.

The Course of Empire: Destruction, Thomas Cole (1836)

Ehud Neor, a Substack friend of mine, recently shared this public note:

I’ve swapped many messages with Ehud on the future of diaspora Jews, and it’s safe to say that we disagree. But it’s not simply a philosophical disagreement. Ehud grew up on Martha’s Vineyard, converted from his Protestant faith to Judaism as an adult, and then made aliyah to Israel.¹

I grew up not far from the Vineyard — in Lexington, Massachusetts (“Birthplace of American liberty”) — attended a Reform synagogue, became a bar mitzvah, and later headed off to college as a devout atheist and a committed Zionist. Then, in my mid-twenties, I too underwent a conversion of sorts: I’m no longer an atheist, and while I’m still a Zionist, the Jewish state raises more questions for me than it answers.

Among those questions: Does Ehud Neor, an Israeli Jew via Martha’s Vineyard, see the world more clearly than I do?

In pursuit of an answer, I followed his recommendation (above) and read “Better than rue,” by Stephen Schecter. This passage jumped out at me:

The West is finished. … I do not believe the rot will be repaired, just as the rot that set in to the Roman Empire in the third century could not prevent its ultimate decline and fall, however salutary the attempts at reform appeared to their contemporaries.

One thing is clear. There is no place for Jews in the societies of the western world. Of course we have not been exterminated yet, but no Jew can possibly forget the betrayal by governments and fellow citizens which the past year and a half has brought us. The only response we can have to that is a staunch and stalwart defence of Israel as the only country in which we can feel safe and flourish. We should be encouraging our children to move there and we ourselves should make every effort to do the same, however difficult such a move would be for people like myself who are nearing the end of their lives.

I find this excessively grim, bordering on the absurd. But not entirely absurd, so I’ll be generous and offer Stephen Schecter this tempered response: Maybe we diaspora Jews are doomed. Maybe we should pack up and go. Or maybe not. No one can predict the future. You, Stephen, do not have a crystal ball. You are not a prophet. You’re stuck in the middle of history, of what was and what will be — just like the rest of us.

But as a thought experiment, let’s assume for a moment that Schecter is right. Let’s agree that the past is a useful guide to the road ahead. Let’s embrace that familiar Santayana saying that “those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” If that’s true, then why should modern Jews look back and focus on the rot within the Roman empire and its subsequent collapse? Why build your argument on that example?

Instead, why not look at Jewish history, especially the two Jewish commonwealths that rose… and then failed miserably? Why suggest that the ingathering of all the exiles to Zion from our 21st-century Babylon is the answer to what ails us? Why not view our continued ingathering as a cowardly retreat from the world where G*d has placed us?

Jerusalem collapses… for the second time.

The modern nation-state of Israel can’t be the solution to the Jewish predicament or an answer to the Jewish question for a host of reasons, including the fact that nationalism is often a harbinger of doom. Just ask the prophet Samuel:

The nation-state of Israel is not the answer to the riddle of Jewish history. But Israel is a provocative and disturbing question. It’s the Jewish question: Does the G*d of Israel exist?

Or in narrative terms: Is our Story true?

Here (once again) is one of my favorite observations:

From “The Focus on Israel,” by Tom Friedman. (I’m not a Friedman fan. But this article is worth reading.)

If Israel rings a note in the subconscious of even the most secular Christian, then it must also ring a note in the subconscious of even the most secular Jew.

A Jewish division of labor (Alan’s edition)

The job of Israelis is to hold down the fort. To defend a Jewish state surrounded by enemies who want to snuff out the Biblical Story and the people who tell and live it. Despite their many mistakes, Israelis continue to do this job with strength, ingenuity, and immense courage. (Thank you for your service,

Ehud Neor

.)

The job of diaspora Jews is different but complementary. Our job is to elevate the questions raised by Israel’s reemergence on the stage of history, and to encourage the West to confront a mystery it desperately wants to avoid. Our job is to help figure out a sensible, coherent, and meaningful next chapter for the Tribe and for anyone else who believes the Bible is a Story worth sustaining.

We need to be Jews, in public and without apology. We need to say to the world, to our neighbors, and to each other: Hineni (הנני) — Here I am.

Problem is, most diaspora Jews are afraid to walk with Abraham. We desperately want to be part of a non-Jewish club that has long harbored mixed feelings about our membership. Yet we keep trying to fit in despite knowing that our belonging is contingent on forces beyond our control.

We are full club members in good standing… until we’re not.

I might be wrong…

… and Ehud might be right. Maybe the Jewish diaspora is doomed. Maybe Israel is our next stop. But I haven’t given up on the American experiment just yet. There’s room for everyone at the Enlightenment’s long, welcoming table. Reason, not revelation, shall light the road ahead. America contains multitudes. We are a nation of immigrants. We are “a city upon a hill, the eyes of all people are upon us.” Diversity is our strength. We shall overcome.

Counterpoint: If all that’s true, then why is this happening?

1. Links to Ehud’s (inspiring) two-part memoir:

• Part I: Blessing Israel

• Part II: Between Heaven and Earth

(Now that’s a story!)