Moshav HaAm: A Reminder of Why We're Here

Jewish blogger David Kelsey has opened a plaintive yet articulate discussion that should serve to remind us of just how urgently we need to bring our people and institutions out of the malaise of consumerism. In "Fading Judaism" David describes, in frank autobiographical detail, how for "many Jews who don’t marry, particularly [baaley tshuvah], there is often a slide away from religiosity over time," a tragic inversion of the inspirational thrill so many young Jews experience in "returning" to a Jewish religious practice that authenticates the experience of Jewish identity, only to find down the road that the spiritual and social rewards of this practice feel increasingly shallow.

What do you do when you have never regretted any move away from observance? But only regret you had not made the change earlier?

What do you do when you find every brake you press for the sake of observance has an annoying and debilitating effect on your life, replete with resentments and little or no payoff?

(Emphasis mine.)

Without fully developing the ideas here, I think it is worth noting some assumptions about the current State of Judaism that guide the work of Moshav HaAm:

In the Modern Industrial Age, the overwhelming majority of Jews are more or less free to choose our religious affiliations and lifestyle, like choosing an employer to work for, a city to live in, and a make and model of car to drive.

In this culture of Consumer Choice, the survival of power centers (be they communities, leadership figures, or institutions) is a function of Brand Loyalty, which is generally secured either by spectacle (arrest the consumer's attention with something shocking/exciting/etc.) or by monopoly (eliminate the consumer's other options) or, often, both.

The latter marketing approach has rendered Jewish life a landscape of increasingly narrow orthodoxies. That is, "movement" Judaism tends to make the appeal that our movement is right while their movement is wrong, or that this lifestyle is authentic while that one is hollow, in order to ensure loyalty to the brand because there is no conscionable alternative. (Among these "movements," I am including humanistic secularism, which is the least institutionally organized within [Diaspora] Jewish community, probably because it is the best supported by host-culture institutions. It is distinct from the host culture itself, though, in that the religion being spurned is religious Judaism, not Christianity.)

Consequently, division and provincialism characterize Jewish identity politics to a considerable degree, and creative communication between Jewish subcultures is systematically discouraged.

For the born natives of any given Jewish "movement," the experience of this insularity is often one of security. However, it is just as often an experience of stagnation, lack of vitality, inflexibility, even claustrophobia. For those who have this experience, there is a very high incidence of jumping ship from one "movement"'s orthodoxy to another's.

What is perhaps inadequately understood by those who market one orthodoxy to those disaffected with another is that, in the long run, the pickings aren't really so easy as they seem. Those who are open to abandoning one orthodoxy over its limitations will typically be of the sort who would abondon another orthodoxy over its limitations. Even if one would not abandon a second orthodoxy, disenchantment with orthodoxy itself is generally an intractable personality trait, and will manifest one way or another. (For this reason, orthodoxy-based power centers usually push new joiners to start families or otherwise establish covenantal ties that will make it difficult to leave after the honeymoon is over.)

As "Ilana B." writes in the poignant comments thread following David Kelsey's piece (emphasis mine):

For many of us (in addition to many "frum" from birth), we are fed up with doing some of the mitzvos over and over, and guiltily feeling empty.

[...]

Is it any wonder why so many of our brothers and sister who were raised Traditional or Orthodox just walk away? These are not stupid, un-intuitive people. Walking away from it, for some, is the only way to stay sane. I know it sounds harsh, but it's true, and we need to figure out what the hell to do about it, and now.

The first step in addressing the problem is, of course, to understand it as fully as possible. Moshav HaAm is fundamentally an organization concerned with application and action, but with the Maggidic goal that, whatever form of engagement we undertake, the product should be a more complete understanding of the Jewish narrative as it unfolds through our people's lives. There is very much to be studied, learned, and written about the ramifications of Industrial Market Consumerism in Jewish life*, and all Moshav HaAm associates are already dedicated in various concrete ways to addressing the problems we see. But it is worth taking specific consideration of our need to simply hear (and remember) the experiences of disillusionment, loneliness, and alienation that we all experience in community, and that some feel profoundly.

*In Spring 2005, I wrote drafts of some relevant pieces on Mishkaneer: