Hello, friends. It has been some time, as I was having some technical issues with this blog and also faced discrimination in my professional role at a university last year (a topic for another time), but I am glad to be back to sharing my interfaith experiences in the world. It has been quite an eighteen months since I last wrote, as I have done a really interesting variety of interfaith activities, and have also transitioned to being a solo congregational rabbi in a suburban synagogue.
I must first admit that this is the most difficult time for that interfaith work that I have ever experienced. These are the darkest times I have seen in my life, and I intend to share my thoughts on where we are, but for now wanted to focus on one specific article I recently had published.
You may have heard rumblings that the Catholic Church has been going through a period of synodality, as they consider major topics and the way forward for the church. I am not at all an expert on the synod, but you might have heard that there was recent meeting in Rome related to this period of reflection for the Church.
In keeping with this topic, the Dicastery for Interreligious Dialogue (the office of the Vatican that deals primarily with relationships with all outside faith groups, except usually the Jews, we are housed in a different office) in their regularly-published journal Pro Dialogo, focused on this topic of synodality, looking at includsion and solidarity in different faith traditions. They invited me to contribute a short piece on that topic from a Jewish perspective, and as it arrived in the mail yesterday, I wanted to share the article with you (for the sake of easier text to read, I include the text I sent into the Dicastery, which I believe is exactly what was published). You will note they appropriately left in a reference I made to greater inclusion in the Jewish community of LGBTQIA+ folks. In keeping with my experience of Catholic dialogue as very focused on theology, you will note that they requested a style of article with many textual references. You can also see more about the journal itself here.
I wish you good reading and safety.
Now go out and love one another.
<3,
Allyson
Text of the article:
Inclusion and Solidarity in Religions (Judaism)
Introduction
Any discussion of inclusion and solidarity through a Jewish lens necessarily begins with the framing of betzelem Elohim—the idea that we are all created in the image of G-d:
וַיִּבְרָ֨א
אֱלֹהִ֤ים אֶת־הָֽאָדָם֙ בְּצַלְמ֔וֹ בְּצֶ֥לֶם אֱלֹהִ֖ים בָּרָ֣א אֹת֑וֹ זָכָ֥ר
וּנְקֵבָ֖ה בָּרָ֥א אֹתָֽם
G-d created humankind in G-d’s image; in the image of G-d did the Almighty create the masculine and feminine, G-d created them. (Genesis 1:27)
The idea that we are all created in the Divine image teaches us of the holiness in everyone, regardless of any aspects of their personhood—religion, gender, age, ability, economic resources, and more. It signifies that each of us comes from a Divine source and so we extrapolate from there that we are called upon to honor the humanity of each individual. This need not suggest that we agree with everything that someone does, but it means that we must remember the inherent worth of every person, and so build ways of inclusion and solidarity both within and outside the Jewish community.
Inclusion (Jewish Community)
The concept of betzelem Elohim extends then to truly embrace a world of deep inclusion. In a text we often sing with joy on Shabbat, we share:
הִנֵּ֣ה מַה־טּ֭וֹב וּמַה־נָּעִ֑ים שֶׁ֖בֶת אַחִ֣ים גַּם־יָֽחַד
Behold, how good and how pleasant it is when siblings dwell together. (Psalm 133:1)
This imagery of families dwelling together reminds us that living in close proximity requires a level of understanding and respect beyond a mere courtesy; it requires a true honoring of the individual in their wholeness.
This idea then of expansive inclusion in the closest of settings also means an inclusion of the deep diversity of people in this world, and some of our most fundamental stories in Judaism tell of those leaders who lived lives in some ways on the margins. For example, in the story of Avram and Sarai, we learn of the struggles of infertility before this couple ultimately had a son:
הִנֵּה־נָ֞א עֲצָרַ֤נִי יְהֹוָה֙ מִלֶּ֔דֶת
Behold, G-d has prevented me from bearing children. (Genesis 16:2)
Our great leader Moses was thought to have possibly had some kind of speech impediment, quite a challenge for someone called vocationally to so much public oration, when he seemingly pleads with G-d about leading the people from slavery, saying:
כִּ֧י כְבַד־פֶּ֛ה וּכְבַ֥ד לָשׁ֖וֹן אָנֹֽכִי
But I am heavy of mouth and heavy of tongue. (Exodus 4:10)
Naomi and her daughter-in-law Ruth suffered the loss of both of their spouses and mutually made a choice to form a family together even in that grief, forming lasting close ties even when that connection went beyond biological. In a key scene, Naomi urges Ruth to leave her in order to return to her original community:
וַתֹּ֤אמֶר רוּת֙ אַל־תִּפְגְּעִי־בִ֔י לְעׇזְבֵ֖ךְ לָשׁ֣וּב מֵאַחֲרָ֑יִךְ כִּ֠י אֶל־אֲשֶׁ֨ר תֵּלְכִ֜י אֵלֵ֗ךְ וּבַאֲשֶׁ֤ר תָּלִ֙ינִי֙ אָלִ֔ין עַמֵּ֣ךְ עַמִּ֔י וֵאלֹהַ֖יִךְ אֱלֹהָֽי
But Ruth replied, “Do not entreat me to leave you, to turn back from after you. For wherever you will go, I will go; wherever you will lodge, I will lodge. Your people shall be my people; and your G-d, my G-d.” (Ruth 1:16)
We see in the story of Esther an early example of an interfaith family, in which the Jewish Esther marries a foreign king of a different tradition:
וַיָּ֤שֶׂם כֶּֽתֶר־מַלְכוּת֙ בְּרֹאשָׁ֔הּ וַיַּמְלִיכֶ֖הָ תַּ֥חַת וַשְׁתִּֽי
Then he set a royal crown upon her head and made her queen instead of Vashti. (Esther 2:17)
Esther later advocates for her people and ultimately saves them from violent hatred because of her own close relationship across faith lines.
Our stories repeatedly tell of those who lived lives that even today might be considered outside of common or discussed scenarios, and yet they are honored as our ancestors and leaders. The Jewish community has always had such profound diversity that navigating inclusion is built into our very fabric and so too must those of all identities and experiences be a part of our story today.
Inclusion (Broader Community)
Our tradition also includes the history of the Jewish people’s engagement with other communities, and numerous examples of how that interaction involved aspects of inclusion. For example, as the Israelites fled Egypt after the Ten Plagues and their release from slavery, our text reads:
וְגַם־עֵ֥רֶב רַ֖ב עָלָ֣ה אִתָּ֑ם
And a mixed multitude went up with them. (Exodus 12:38)
The commentators consider this phrasing of “mixed multitude” to signify in some way that the group leaving Egypt included those from outside the Israelite community—perhaps proselytes of multiple nations according to Rashi, or even Egyptians according to Ibn Ezra.
Judaism also includes an idea known as the Noahide Laws. These seven ethical principles are thought to apply to all of global humanity, in comparison to what some would consider the 613 commandments specific to the Jewish community. We learn in Talmud how some principles were thought to include the broader community beyond the Jews:
תנו רבנן איש מה ת"ל איש איש לרבות את העובדי כוכבים
The Sages taught [on a particular topic], “Man.” Why then does it say [in Leviticus 24:15], “‘Anyone’—man, man?” [Listing the word twice.] This is to include those who are worshippers of stars [people who are other than Jewish]. (Sanhedrin 56a:14)
This piece of text purposely includes those outside the community in a worldview of ethical principles, though it is a type of inclusion that does not seek conformity to a Jewish way of life but instead respects that there are different life paths that can be united by some common ethical principles.
Solidarity (Jewish Community)
Judaism has long considered itself a people that emphasizes the importance of being Jewish in community, so fostering an internal solidarity that we can witness in a number of practices. As one example, many communities observe the principle of requiring a minyan, a quorum of participants, in order to engage in certain prayers. Many mourners who have lost a parent will choose to recite the Mourner’s Kaddish (an Aramaic affirmation of the glory of G-d) daily for approximately a year following the loss. This can mean that a person might need to find a community of ten people who will come to make the minyan every day, and often others in the community will intentionally come out to offer this type of support through their presence for prayer.
We also see the principle of Jewish solidarity associated with the holiday of Purim. One of the practices associated with the holiday is to give support to those in need, which came out of a letter Esther’s relative Mordecai wrote about observing practices yearly in celebration of the community being saved from destruction. Mordecai enjoins the Jews to make sure that they send:
וּמַתָּנ֖וֹת לָֽאֶבְיוֹנִֽים
Gifts to the poor. (Esther 9:22)
Some communities today interpret this particular guidance to apply specifically to helping those in need within the Jewish community. There exists in Judaism a balance of universalism and particularism, as we strive to balance caring for all of humanity and also taking care of those within our wider Jewish family.
Solidarity (Broader Community)
Solidarity also as support for those at a disadvantage in society outside the Jewish community comes up regularly. A common phrase related to this concept and used today is tikkun olam—repairing the world. The idea is that we are partners with G-d in helping heal a broken world. We see reference to the concept in the Mishnah when a ruling is made that it was ordered as such:
מפני תיקון העולם
For the sake of repairing the world. (Gittin 34b)
One way that this call to repair emerges is that we are regularly instructed in how we should treat others ethically. The principle embodied in what is often called today the Golden Rule finds a home in one particular line:
וְאָֽהַבְתָּ֥ לְרֵעֲךָ֖ כָּמ֑וֹךָ
Love your neighbor as yourself. (Leviticus 19:18)
Some examples of this care comes in the form of our Jewish tradition of tzedakah, or giving charity. In addition to a culture of notable philanthropic giving, many households, synagogues, or Hebrew School classrooms contain a tzedakah box, a small box with a slot at the top for donating money to go to charity. These boxes serve as physical reminders of the need to stand in solidarity with everyone.
Similarly, we are reminded during the Passover Seder (the ritual dinner during which we recount the memory of the Israelite people in Egypt escaping slavery for freedom) of a critical piece of solidarity with the less fortunate:
וְגֵ֖ר לֹ֣א תִלְחָ֑ץ וְאַתֶּ֗ם יְדַעְתֶּם֙ אֶת־נֶ֣פֶשׁ הַגֵּ֔ר כִּֽי־גֵרִ֥ים הֱיִיתֶ֖ם בְּאֶ֥רֶץ מִצְרָֽיִם
Do not oppress the stranger, for you all knew the feeling of the stranger, because you were strangers in the land of Egypt. (Exodus 23:9)
Finally, a particular category of those in need that regularly comes up comprises the widow, orphan, and stranger as people particularly requiring support:
וְאַלְמָנָ֧ה וְיָת֛וֹם גֵּ֥ר וְעָנִ֖י אַֽל־תַּעֲשֹׁ֑קוּ
Do not defraud a widow, orphan, stranger, and poor… (Zechariah 7:10)
We live out our values of solidarity when we recall the imperative to support those in need, both in the Jewish community and more broadly.
Conclusion
Many Jewish communities today undertake incredible work to build their capacity for inclusion and solidarity. Efforts across the Jewish spectrum have been undertaken to ensure that members of the community of varying identities or facing specific disadvantages are more wholly supported. Recent decades have seen enormous strides forward of living out the above principles to ensure that our communities are built to better support women; the LGBTQIA+ community; those who have disabilities; and more. While there always exists internal varying perspectives within the wider Jewish community on inclusion and solidarity, we need only look to our tradition to identify stories and ethical principles that call us to include those of various identities, and to stand in solidarity with those in need. As the world continues to connect more internationally and we engage evermore across lines of difference, may we all find inspiration in the Jewish imperative to approach this engagement through a lens of inclusiveness and solidarity as we strive to connect across lines of difference and build a stronger world.
