Parashat Ahare Mot
Threat and Promise of Conformity
We can learn from
and adopt only those practices foreign to Judaism that enhance and strengthen
Jewish practice.
By Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson
The following article
is reprinted with permission from University of
Judaism.
In the movie Zelig,
Woody Allen portrays an individual who repeatedly rises to the pinnacle of
success through his uncanny ability to become identical to those in power. Time after time, Zelig is able to transform
himself into the image of people around him, and those people reward his
ability by offering Zelig influence, prominence and prestige.
The movie audience sees Zelig in photographs with Indian
chieftains, Nazi generals and capitalist millionaires. In each case, he has
become more like them than they are themselves. Always in the center, always a passionate advocate, Zelig's zeal
and enthusiasm bear the mark of his insecurity. His very passion reveals his
wish to belong.
Zelig portrays the Jews throughout history. Like him, we too have managed to adopt the
look and the rhythm of the cultures in which we dwell. We take it as a matter of pride that we
become better guardians of the dominant culture than are its biological
children. Always under suspicion of
being outsiders, we seek to prove our right to belong through our zeal and our
ingenuity.
Assimilation, the drive to become like the people we live
among, is a time-honored Jewish passion.
It is certainly one of our consummate talents. American Jews talk, dress, vacation and work as do all other Americans. With a few exceptions, our habits and
lifestyles reflect the priorities of American culture. It is no coincidence that "I'm a Yankee
Doodle Dandy" was written by a Jew, or that "You're A Grand Old
Flag" was sung by one.
Our Torah portion addresses this issue in clear terms.
"You shall not copy the practices of the land of Egypt where you dwelt, or
of the land of Canaan to which I am taking you . . . You shall keep My laws and
My rules, by the pursuit of which man shall live."
Here, God speaks out clearly against all forms of
assimilation. The guiding assumption of
this passage is that we are tempted to become like the people with whom we
live, so there is a need to speak out against this all-too-natural
impulse. Why? Because one cannot blindly adopt the standards of other people
and simultaneously remain true to the values of the Torah and rabbinic
traditions. You cannot serve two
masters. Or can we? Is the condemnation of assimilation really
that sweeping? Isn't it possible to
learn (albeit selectively) from the accumulating wisdom of human experience,
science and insight?
Two medieval interpreters do read the verse in a more
restricted light. Rashi understands
this as applying only to the Egyptians and the Canaanites, who were "more corrupt
than all other nations." Abraham
ibn Ezra (12th century Spain) explains that this stricture applies
to "the Egyptian legal system."
Both of these sages perceive that there is much to be
learned from the wisdom of non-Jews.
Not only in the realm of science, but also in human relations, Jewish
traditions have been open to insights from other peoples. The key, both to this Torah verse and to the
later interpretations, lies in the final phrase.
Those non-Jewish practices and insights which strengthen
Jewish survival, which sensitize us as a people, which teach us how to be more
loving, more caring and more sensitive, which prompt us to understand more
about Judaism and to practice it more fully, pose no threat to our Jewishness.
On the contrary, we benefit from their inclusion. An openness to learn, however, should not be
mistaken for the blind adoption of all Gentile standards. Torah and later Jewish traditions stand as
the ultimate counterculture--opposing all that would cheapen human life or reduce
our consciousness of the holy.
Much in modern life deserves our opposition. But those insights that strengthen Torah,
which make Jewish identity more vibrant and more central, deserve our study and
our adoption. In cultivating those
insights, we harvest a growing Torah.
By adding to the riches of our heritage, we assure its continued
greatness.
Rabbi Bradley Shavit
Artson is the Dean of the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies at the University
of Judaism in Los Angeles. He is the
author of The Bedside Torah: Wisdom, Dreams, & Visions (McGraw Hill). For a free subscription to his weekly email Torah commentary,
please send an email request to bartson@uj.edu.
