February 15, 2023|כ"ד שבט ה' אלפים תשפ"ג Unity - Shared Identity, Shared Vision or Arevut?
Print ArticleI was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump off. So I ran over and said "Stop! Don't do it!" "Why shouldn't I?" he said. I said, "Well, there's so much to live for!" He said, "Like what?" I said, "Well...are you Jewish or a Goy?" He said, "Jewish." I said, "Me too! Are you Orthodox or Reform?" He said, "Orthodox." I said, "Me too! Are you Charedi or Modern?" He said, "Charedi." said, "Me too! Are you Litvish or Chassidishe? " He said, "Litvish !" I said, "Wow! Me too! Are you a Litvish Yerushalmi or a Litvish Bnei-Braker?" He said, "a Litvish Yerushalmi!" I said, "Me too! Are you a Litvish Yerushalmi Mussarnik, or are you a Litvish Yerushalmi Brisker?" He said, "a Litvish Yerushalmi Mussarnik!" I said, "Me too! Are you a Litvish Yerushalmi Mussarnik Slobodkaniker, or a Litvish Yerushalmi Mussarnik Kelmer?" He said, "A Litvish Yerushalmi Mussarnik Slobodkaniker!" I said, "Die, Apikores", and I pushed him off.
We don’t like it when people engage in ad hominem attacks simply because they disagree with our worldview. We wish there was more respect for each other. We wish there was achdut. We wish there was unity. We wish there was achdut among the Jewish people, among our fellow Americans and in our communities. We love achdut. But what type of achdut do we really want or what type of achdut should we really want?
I know. We want the kind of achdut that existed at Har Sinai, the achdut of “va-yichan sham Yisrael k’neged ha-har,” when the Torah uses the singular term that the Bnei Yisrael camped there by the mountain and Rashi famously comments based on the midrash that at that time, the Bnei Yisrael were united “k’ish echad b’lev echad,” like one person with one heart. We celebrate the achdut that existed specifically at that time. Such a beautiful image – like one person and one heart, but the truth is what does that exactly mean? What does it mean that they were unified at that time and how can their achdut guide us as to the type of achdut that should exist in our communities?
I think that achdut, or unity, can mean, at a minimum, two things. When I say that we are unified, maybe it means that we have a shared vision. We feel connected based on our lofty set of shared values and aspirations. Or perhaps it means something else. When I say that we are unified, maybe it means that we have a shared identity. We feel a sense of belonging and connection to each other. That feeling is not based on shared values or aspirations. We simply feel that we are part of the same family and we love each other. What type of achdut existed at Har Sinai?
The Midrash Ha-Gadol explains that the unity here is “כדי שיאהבו זה את זה ויקבלו את התורה” – so that they should love each other and receive the Torah. The grandson of the Chatam Sofer wrote a work called “Shir Ma’on,” and he explained the unity as being “b’shalom u-v’achdut,” with peace and unity. It wasn’t about shared values or aspirations. It was about peace. It was about love. It was about feeling connected to each other. It was that they felt that they were one big family. It was about a shared identity. And once they felt this type of unity, then they were ready for the ma-amad Har Sinai, the Sinai revelation. If this is true, then I can better understand what we try to accomplish each and every year on Yom Kippur. Why do we ask other Jews for forgiveness leading up to Yom Kippur? In Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer (chapter 46), the midrash explains that we try to act angelic on Yom Kippur. We fast like angels. We stand like angels. And just like the angels are at peace with one another, we also should be at peace with one another on Yom Kippur. In other words, a key ingredient to being angelic and connecting with God on the holiest day of the year is shalom, or peace. And maybe just like the encounter with God on Yom Kippur is only effective if we are at peace with one another, the encounter with God at Sinai will also only take place if we are at peace with one another, if there is unity, if there is a shared sense of identity and belonging, if we see ourselves as one big, family.
However, there is another explanation to the achdut of Sinai. The midrash in Pirkei D’Rabbi Eliezer (#41) states that:
מִיּוֹם שֶׁיָּצְאוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל מִמִּצְרַיִם, הָיוּ נוֹסְעִים וְחוֹנִים בְּמַחֲלֹקֶת שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר [שמות יט, ב] וַיִסְעוּ וַיַּחֲנוּ.
From the time that they left Egypt, the Bnei Yisrael traveled with division
עַד שֶׁבָּאוּ כֻּלָּם לְהַר סִינַי וְחָנוּ כְּנֶגֶד הָהָר, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר [שם] וַיִּחַן שָׁם יִשְׂרָאֵל נֶגֶד הָהָר. אָמַר לָהֶם מְקַבְּלִים אַתֶּם אֶת הַתּוֹרָה, אָמְרוּ כֻלָּם פֶּה אֶחָד
Until they came to Har Sinai and camped opposite the mountain. God said, “Will you accept the Torah?” They all responded with one mouth that they will accept the Torah.
Here, the midrash emphasizes that the unity here was a shared vision and a shared purpose, a shared acceptance of the Torah. Why was this type of unity important at this time? For a very simple reason. Each member of Klal Yisrael accepted the Torah and that acceptance had legal force to bind that generation and subsequent generations to observe the Torah.
Perhaps, then, when we think about the achdut of Sinai, we think about the achdut of identity or the achdut of vision, and how best we can incorporate these types of achdut into our communities and our own lives. But the truth is, each definition of achdut by itself is incomplete and inadequate. Achdut creating a sense of belonging is wonderful. We love each other because we are family and we accept each other for who he or she is. But if we don’t strive for an achdut of vision, dreams or aspirations, then we will not challenge each other to unlock our passions and strive for greatness. That’s why we need achdut of vision, a “why” for our existence, to uncover that which inspires us. Trying to create achdut in identity gives meaning to our lives because when we do that, we build a community of values. We are not simply going to the movies with a group of friends. We are changing the world with a group of friends. In fact, I was told that a Yeshiva day school recently changed its tagline or slogan from “We are family,” to “Let’s grow together.” That changed tagline or slogan reflects a change from a shared identity to a shared vision.
However, if we only strive for achdut in a shared vision, and we are laser-focused on the vision but not so focused on the identity, then how do we treat those who may not share our vision? Many people in our broader community are passionate about many causes and we try to create a community with a shared vision of a particular cause – be it Torah study, be it treating others with respect, be it meticulous observance of certain mitzvot, be it engaging women, or be it supporting the State of Israel, etc. We strive to create communities in achdut of certain values and aspirations, but sometimes in these situations, the achdut of belonging is lacking. Sometimes we are so passionate about whatever causes we believe in that we demonstrate a lack of sensitivity to and ad hominem attacks on those who may not agree with us, or our values and visions. We feel that the only way to strengthen our community of values is to demean those who disagree with us. Unfortunately, many of those in the more modern orthodox community may not feel a shared sense of belonging with members of the charedi community or the open-orthodox community, and vice-versa.
That’s why I prefer the approach of Rav Soloveitchik to the achdut of the Sinai experience. In his famous work “Kol Dodi Dofek,” translated as “The Sound of My Beloved Knocks,” Rav Soloveitchik explains that the shared suffering of the Bnei Yisrael in Egypt created a feeling of shared obligation and responsibility. He writes, “There is a special covenant of mutual responsibility among the children of Israel… It is based upon the notion of peoplehood revealed to Moses in Egypt. Out of this concept grew the covenant of mutual obligation… Here the notion of shared fate was elevated from the plane of communal-political suffering to that of halakhic and moral responsibility. We are all sureties for one other.” Yes, kol Yisrael arevim zeh lazeh – every Jew is responsible for every other Jew. For Rav Soloveitchik, we have a shared identity, but that shared identity obligates us to help create a shared vision. It’s not either or. I love you. I care about you. I feel you are family, so I want to share with you my beautiful vision. Because we are family, let us grow together. And even if I can’t convince you, I still love you.
What does a feeling of arevut towards each other look like? The holy Rav Aryeh Levin who lived in Eretz Yisrael and died about 55 years ago was walking on Shabbat afternoon when from a distance he spotted a boy who used to be religious and was now smoking on Shabbat walking around without a kippah. When the boy saw Rav Aryeh, he quickly threw away the cigarette. Rav Aryeh crossed the street and headed towards the boy. With each step the boy’s face was getting redder and redder with embarrassment. When Rav Aryeh reached that boy, the boy said “Rebbe, I am sorry I am not wearing a kippah.” Rav Aryeh, who was about 4”11 warmly held the boy’s hand and said “Look at me, I am not a tall man. My eyes only reach your heart. All I see is what is deep in your heart – and your heart is on fire. Don’t abandon it. Good Shabbos my son!”
There are different interpretations of the achdut that existed at Sinai, but imagine if each one of us strove to achieve the “arevut”-type of achdut, when we affirm both a shared identity and a shared mission, when our tagline was both “We are family” and “Let’s grow together.” May our continued passion for a vision for our communities not come at the expense of our love for each other, but rather come as a natural outgrowth of our love for each other.