November 13th: Chayay Sarah
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
In sending for a wife for Isaac, Abraham is walking a fine line. On the one hand, he does not want his servant “to take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites among whom I dwell, so go to the land of my birth and get a wife for my son Isaac.” (Genesis 24.3-4) On the other hand, he does not want Isaac to ever go back to Mesopotamia. “On no account must you take my son back there!” (verse 6)
Abraham does not want Isaac to be drawn into the pagan customs of the Canaanites and figures that an Aramean (Mesopotamian) woman will be better able to help Isaac resist local influences. On the other hand, he does not want Isaac to be drawn into the pagan customs of the Arameans—and thus wants him far from Haran.
In short, Abraham wants Isaac to continue their independent identity—to be among “his own kind.”
There is a fine line between choosing an ethnic/religious identity and xenophobia. Choosing a particular expression of humanity and reveling in its particularity can be a healthy and life-enhancing choice. However, believing that one’s particular ethnic or religious identity makes him/her better than others—and that others are not only different, but also inferior or evil, is a decidedly immoral position. It leads to discrimination, acrimony and hate—and crimes which unfortunately we know too well.
In Judaism, our people have negotiated the line between particularity and universalism for some 4000 years. Abraham was well-integrated into the society in Hebron. The local Hittites hold him in great regard: “You are the elect of God among us,” but Abraham sees himself also as “a resident alien among you.” (Genesis 23.4-6). He is both part of local society and the holder of a unique religious identity. Is this not similar to the eternal Jewish challenge? How much do we incorporate our Judaism into our civil or secular identities? How much do we incorporate our civil or secular identities into our Judaism? Sometimes, it is really important to be among the larger community. Other times, we need to be with other Jews. Each of us, in our own ways, works for a good balance between and among our many identities.
Ours is not the only group to negotiate such a situation.
In the case of African Americans, desegregation or integration has been an important step in achieving equality and the many blessings America promises. On the other hand, there have been costs to Black Culture and communal health. Integrating Major League Baseball destroyed the Negro League—and the fortunes of many African American businessmen. Bussing Black children across town to better schools removed them from the guiding influence of Black neighborhoods. Desegregation may have been necessary for all of the obvious reasons, but it should not come as a surprise that some all-Black institutions find value in their Blackness.
Sometimes, people want to be among “their own kind.”
It is for this reason that I always wince when I hear social commentators lament the fact that “Sunday morning is the most segregated time in American life.” Are there institutional barriers preventing Black Christians from attending White churches, or it is a matter of Blacks preferring to worship with other Blacks?
Is it a problem for African American Christians to choose their own particular style of worship? Is it a problem for any ethnic group to choose its particular style of worship? Surveying the panoply of human worship experiences reveals a wide variety of spiritual expression. Many were surprised, in the wedding of Prince Harry and Megan Markle, at the exuberant style of the African American Episcopal Bishop who gave the homily. Suffice it to say that his style was not the typical staid and reserved style of Episcopalians—White or Black. For some, his animated and highly dramatic presentation was unsettling. For others, it was “right on.” For some, the shouting and physical movement of Black Baptist worship—and the hymns they sing and the traditions they continue—are at the essence of the worship experience. For others, the calmer ambience of United Methodist or Presbyterian worship is what connects them to God. It is one thing to decry churches prohibiting people from different backgrounds. It is another thing entirely to complain when people prefer a particular worship approach and then choose that over a different or more universal spiritual ambience.
The same principle can apply to the choices that African Americans make when they resist efforts to recruit them to majority White areas. If an African American student living in Philadelphia or Pittsburgh has an opportunity to study in Philadelphia or Pittsburgh—and have a large peer group and African American mentors and cultural institutions, one can certainly understand his/her decision not to emigrate to a place like Penn State. I remember an African American friend of mine remarking, “When you live in State College, you have to get used to having the only Black face in the room.” The same can be said about efforts to recruit African American teachers, police officers, and other professionals to places like State College. The difficulty is more about the demographic and cultural facts in a State College than about the efforts of recruiters and employers. People often choose to be among “their own kind.”
Is this not similar to the conversations we have with Jews considering relocation here? I remember a promising Princeton Ph.D. in Jewish Studies being interviewed by Penn State and how, with each question asked and answered, her interest level waned. Is there a Kosher butcher? Is there a Traditional synagogue? Is there a Jewish Day School? Those of us who love it here have made our adjustments to living in a small Jewish community. We make a point of finding Jewish friends. We affiliate with and support the synagogue. We read Jewish magazines and newspapers and give to Jewish charities. We manage to find enough Jewishness here. However, we all know Jews who would ignore all sorts of inducements to come here and instead choose a larger Jewish community with all of its religious and cultural accoutrements.
There is certainly a value in our assimilation into American and modern life, but there are also times when we choose to be “among our own kind.” It is a negotiation in which we and many others are continually involved—and a very, very old story.