Ways of Viewing the Orthodox Community

Updated 4/18/2006

This is an essay that I wrote for my College Writing class, and since it speaks about the blogosphere, I decided to do none other than blog the essay.

As with many communities, the Orthodox Jewish community can be seen many ways. On the one hand, its religious rituals and the lifestyle of its adherents are very homogeneous. On the other hand, close observation will show that there is much dissent and diversity within the Orthodox Jewish community. I believe that careful analysis of the community from both of these perspectives will show aspects of the community that could not have been seen from either of these perspectives alone.

Mary Louise Pratt, in “Arts of the Contact Zone, ” describes two perspectives from which to analyze communities. She quotes Benedict Anderson, and his description of “imagined” national communities. He says that communities define themselves by three characteristics: they are limited, by “finite, if elastic, boundaries”; they are sovereign; and they are imagined as fraternal. Orthodox Judaism follows all three of these characteristics, albeit in the sense of a transnational religious community, rather than a national community.

The Orthodox Jewish community is much more clearly delineated than many other communities. It is defined primarily by commitment to Halacha[1] – Jewish law. Certain observances – observance of Sabbath and kashrut (dietary laws) – are considered minimums for social acceptance in the Orthodox Jewish community. In addition, many other observances serve to strengthen this homogeneity of lifestyle in the community. Adult males are required to pray three times a day in community with a quorum of ten worshippers, and other religious requirements dictate not just occasional rituals, but an entire lifestyle.

(In Judaism, status as a Jew is determined solely by birth to a Jewish mother, or by conversion. While acceptance or non-acceptance into a particular community is a complex topic, Jewish status is not. While some non-Orthodox movements have decided to change the standards for who is Jewish, that idea is totally rejected in the Orthodox world. The question of “who is a Jew” is entirely moot. Thus, even those who totally dissociate themselves from the Orthodox world will continue to be seen as Jews in the fullest sense of the word.)

In terms of beliefs, Orthodoxy is quite diverse, yet quite homogeneous. Certain beliefs, such as the existence of a Supreme Being and the truth of the Torah, are seen as the principles of faith, and their acceptance is seen as obligatory. Anyone who denies any of these principles is seen as a heretic. (This is not to say that such people are shunned; outreach efforts, especially recently, are significant, and Orthodoxy aims to bring such unfortunate people back to the fold. But they are seen as outsiders who must be brought back.) Within these parameters, however, there is much debate and discussion. The level of debate can appear quite confrontational to an outsider. Walking into a Jewish study hall is quite different from a university library. In a Jewish study hall (beis medrash), one will regularly see study partners literally yelling back and forth at each other, trying to understand a religious text.

In community relations and “fraternity”, the Orthodox community is very close. Because of the prohibition of driving on Sabbath, Orthodox Jews will live within walking distance of a synagogue, and thus of each other. They (that is, we) have a strong culture of inviting guests to Sabbath meals. The home hospitality custom is partly because of kosher restrictions in eating out, and partly because of the groups’ understanding of the intense need for new people to connect. In fact, since coming to Boston as a freshman in September 2005 and positioning myself within the Orthodox community, I have been invited by various families to a festive dinner and luncheon every single Sabbath and also on Jewish holidays. I have never once eaten a Sabbath or festival meal alone! There is a strong community feeling, and many organizations (way out of proportion to the population) exist to provide charity services, such as a burial society, visiting the sick, bridal dowry, and philanthropy for the poor. Another consequence for me and for other Jews is the ability to immediately connect with any new community when traveling or relocating. When my dad and I visited Boston on a college trip during my senior year, we stayed “in the community” with invitations to sleep and dine at the homes of total strangers – positioning ourselves as observant Jews made us immediately be “in.” The same thing occurred when my mom and I visited Boston for college orientation before freshman year. A story is told about a Gentile who kept a yarmulke (skullcap) in his glove box, because he knew that if his car broke down and he needed help, all he needed to do was put on the yarmulke and “fellow” Jews would pull over to help him.

An example of the Jewish emphasis on community bonding appears in the Haggadah[2], recited on Passover. This book describes the questions asked by four types of children – the wise one, the evil one, the simple one, and the child who does not even know how to ask. The Haggadah trains parents how to approach each educationally. The evil child asks, “What is this worship for you?” The Haggadah notices that he asked the question about “your worship”, rather than “our worship.” The Haggadah comments that “since he removed himself from the community, he has denied the fundamentals.” So while observance and minimal belief are a prerequisite to community acceptance, self-affiliation with the community is also considered to be an important fundamental of Judaism in itself.

A community that defines itself by a minimum level of observance will by definition be quite homogeneous in practices. This is especially true when the religion demands a high level of commitment. This idea parallels an idea expressed by Pratt, with regard to elementary school classrooms. She describes that the classroom is usually only seen through the eyes of the teacher, not the eyes of the students. She writes, “If a classroom is analyzed as a social world unified and homogenized with respect to the teacher, whatever students do other than what the teacher specifies is invisible or anomalous to the analysis.” Similarly, if when viewing Orthodoxy we only pay attention to those who follow the rules, we miss much of the picture.

In her essay, Pratt discusses the concept of the “contact zone”, and argues that we need to see communities more through this perspective. Her term, the contact zone suggests that rather than simply looking at a culture, you look at how the culture relates to its surroundings – that is, the culture in context. For example, she discusses the text of Guaman Poma, who wrote an autoethnographic account of world history through the eyes of the Incans. In an attempt to present this record to the Spanish, he wrote in a Spanish literary style, alternating between Spanish and Incan literary and graphic norms. Literature from the contact zone looks at the interface where two cultures meet, or where dissent exists within a culture, rather than at the homogeneous aspects of a culture.

If approaching Orthodoxy from the perspective of the contact zone, a lot of previously unobserved facets of the Orthodox Jewish community will appear. Although conflict can be seen in many different areas, my discussion here will focus on those Jews who question the basic tenets of Judaism, and the tensions they experience between Judaism and their so-called rationalism. The world of Jewish blogs[3] – the JBlogosphere as it is called by many of its participants – is the new outlet for those nonconformists. They give an anonymous place where people can espouse their atheist or agnostic beliefs, without risking being ostracized by the community. Also, blogs give others a chance to see the voices within the oOrthodox community that until now have been either unexpressed, or expressed but unheard.

One blogger from this genre expressed himself as follows. (Even without understanding the specific rituals he refers to, one can get a feeling for where he’s coming from.)

I'm an Orthodox Jew. I believe in Hashem (God) and His Torah. I go to davening (prayer services) every morning, putting on my tefillin (phylacteries for prayer). I make a brocha (blessing) before I eat anything, and then only eat foods with a proper hechsher (kosher certification). I make it a point to learn [Torah] regularly. I wear a yarmulke (skullcap)and tzitzis (fringes). I keep Shabbos, without even so much as availing myself of an eiruv (a legal loophole to overcome the prohibition of carrying items on Sabbath by setting a boundary to confine the carrying within an enclosed space).

There's just one minor detail. All of the above statements are lies that people believe about me.

Oh, I look like a frum yid (Orthodox Jew). My family and friends are completely convinced that I'm just a deeply religious as them. They think I'm a Shomer Torah U'Mitzvot (observer of Torah and the commandments), but I have a secret - I'm an atheist.

I'm not an agnostic, a nontheist, a secular humanist or a bright. And I am most definitely not an Orthodox Jew . I am an atheist.

I keep this secret very carefully, even from my wife. No one, absolutely no one, knows that I don't believe in their imaginary friend.[4]

Reaction to these blogs is understandably mixed. On the one hand, it does provide an important outlet for these people to vent. Although discussion of the issues close to these people’s hearts (and expressing opinions they hold) is difficult, there is no sense pretending they don’t exist. On the other hand, many argue that they do more harm that good. For one, the contrarians (heretics, if you will) are grossly overrepresented in the blogosphere – most people who are happy conforming to society’s rules have no need to vent on blogs. Also, the tone on many of these blogs is scoffing and condescending, unlike the serious tone that people feel would be appropriate in discussing such weighty topics as, say, the fundamental of our faith, and whether God exists. Some people say they would have no problem if such issues were approached from an intellectually mature stand point. The scoffing tone, they claim, shows that the skeptics are merely trying to justify their non-observance, rather than honestly seeking answers to their questions. Lastly, for those who view following community religious standards not just as societal conformity but as a religious mandate, the visibility of these problems is seen as somewhat dangerous. Will they attract those on the periphery of full observance by showing that there are many other skeptics like them? Or will these blogs serve as a positive example of skeptics who ask legitimate questions in a semi-serious way, and yet continue to maintain their observance?

In summary, there are two main ways to look at a community. One can see a community as a homogeneous body, focusing on elements shared by members of the community, as well as the fraternity shared by members of the community. This is the so-called Utopian view, as described by Benedict Anderson. Or, one can look at a community as a contact zone, as defined by Pratt. In her view, each individual comes from a slightly different angle, and the community serves as the meeting place for those different currents. Orthodox Judaism can be seen in both of those ways. The community can be viewed using the traditional model described by Benedict Anderson, which leads to seeing the community as relatively homogeneous and friendly. Alternatively, one can see the community through the perspective of the “contact zone” paradigm, which allows one to see much more of the bigger picture, a change that carries both positive and negative consequences.




[1] Halacha: In Judaism, the body of law regulating all aspects of life, including religious ritual, familial and personal status, civil relations, criminal law, and relations with non-Jews.
"Halacha." The Columbia Electronic Encyclopedia, Sixth Edition. Columbia University Press., 2003. Answers.com 9 Apr. 2006. http://www.answers.com/topic/halacha

[2] Haggadah: The book containing the story of the Exodus and the ritual of the Seder, read at the Passover Seder.
"Haggadah." The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition. Houghton Mifflin Company, 2004. Answers.com 9 Apr. 2006. http://www.answers.com/topic/haggadah

[3] (WeBLOG) A Web site that contains dated entries in reverse chronological order (most recent first) about a particular topic. Functioning as an online newsletter, blogs can be written by one person or a group of contributors. Entries contain commentary and links to other Web sites, and images as well as a search facility may also be included.

[4] This was an early post on the blog by a blogger with the pseudonym Mis-nagid. It appears on invisiblog, a site specially designed to facilitate totally anonymous blogging.
http://invisiblog.com/f4b342ff7de1534f/article/
1b9ce9545c62416f80849dadb2819324