The Sky Isn’t Falling on Judaism : Religion: Throughout history, attempts to annihilate Jews have failed. It’s time we accepted that we are here to stay.

The world thinks of Jews in varied ways. To some, Jews are gifted--God’s chosen--to others, demonic. To some, philanthropic; to others, greedy. Jews are rich or poor; powerful or dependent; liberal or conservative. But throughout history, Jews have predominantly thought of themselves in only one way: as a group on the verge of disappearing.

No matter the terms used, from an insider’s perspective, we Jews have been awaiting our end ever since our inception. To paraphrase the Jewish scholar Simon Rawidowicz: Jews are the ever-dying people.

From our very beginning as a religious entity, we have obsessed over a sense of impending doom. Immediately after being saved from Egyptian slavery, Jewish forbears bemoaned their newly gained freedom: “Better to die in the fleshpots of Egypt than to die in the desert.” After the destructions of the Temples in Jerusalem and the annihilation of the Jewish state, the feeling of doom reached a plateau. Consistent throughout our history as the oldest religion on Earth, we have feared, even prepared for our imminent demise. Not a single Jewish generation considered itself immune to the notion that it might be the last.

Paradoxically, this negative self-image is inconsistent with our theology. Judaism has always been a religion that is immediate and life-affirming. The Talmud says “Whoever saves one life, [it] is as if he had saved the entire world.” The disparity between a destructive image of doom versus a positive, life-affirming ideology is problematic and self-imposed.

L’chaim --”To life!”--has been the rallying call of Jews. Life, here and now, on this Earth. Who should know the value of life better than Jews? They grew out of an Egyptian civilization that worshiped death. The holiest Egyptian text was called ‘The Book of the Dead.” No wonder the rabbis wrote: “So long as there is life, there is hope.” Fittingly, the national anthem for the state of Israel is called “Hatikvah,” the hope. But for reasons that defy history, Jews continue to doubt their viability, continue to anticipate their demise.

This fear is not entirely without justification. Anti-Semitism still exists. There are those who, if given their way, would cheer the annihilation of the Jews. In our own time, the Nazis made it their life’s work to murder Jews and to destroy Judaism. In 1948, the combined Arab world launched an attack intended to destroy the state of Israel to “throw the Jews into the Mediterranean.” Hate crimes continue, and in parts of the world even flourish. That said, there has never been a better time to live as a Jew than now.

Looking back on Jewish history, the “Golden Age” of Spain was not that golden. The popularly idealized eastern European Jewish communities-- shtetlach-- were far from ideal. The term ghetto, coined in Italy, described neighborhoods where Jews were forced to live because the non-Jewish world would have little to do with them. From the Inquisition to the pogroms, the Holocaust and every type of discrimination imaginable, Jews have understandably feared for their existence. But despite all of that, we continue to contribute to the good of humanity, continue to exist, even thrive.

The influence that Jews have had on their surroundings far exceeds their numbers. Jews total less than 1/10 of 1% of the Earth’s population; some 13 million in all. More people live in Mexico City than there are Jews on the planet. Though small in number, the Jewish contribution to the world is unparalleled. Judaism brought the notion of one God into the world. It is the religion responsible for the establishment of Christianity and Islam. It has helped shape Western civilization. And, given the course of history, so long as there are humans left alive, some of them will be Jews.

But the sky has been falling down on us Jews for generations. In our eyes, we have been dying for more than 3,000 years. The current debate about Jewish assimilation is another form of this self-destructive idea. While the 50% interfaith marriage concerns me, it is more is a reflection of the non-Jewish world’s acceptance of us. A generation ago, Jews did not marry non-Jews largely because the non-Jewish family’s intolerance of the Jewish spouse.

What scares me is our internalization of the myth that we are on the brink of extinction. I am afraid that the groundless fear of our demise has caused havoc to our souls and has deeply permeated our psyche.

Judaism has always been in transition, always adapting and changing to the contemporary terrain. With each challenge comes new opportunity. If Jewish history has taught us anything, it is that. So, as Jews begin to celebrate another year of existence, may the feeling of doom make way for the feeling of hope and joy. May the ever-dying people finally come to grips with the reality that they are here to stay. And may they continue on course with their lofty goal of making this Earth more inhabitable for all humanity.