"what is our justice?"

Berghahn Books

"What Is Our Justice?"Author(s): Fred MorganSource: European Judaism: A Journal for the New Europe, Vol. 27, No. 1 (Spring 94), pp. 76-81Published by: Berghahn BooksStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/41444420 .

Accessed: 25/06/2014 09:34

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at .http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp

.JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range ofcontent in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new formsof scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact [email protected].

.

Berghahn Books is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to European Judaism: AJournal for the New Europe.

http://www.jstor.org

This content downloaded from 91.229.229.44 on Wed, 25 Jun 2014 09:34:13 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions

http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=berghahnbooks

http://www.jstor.org/stable/41444420?origin=JSTOR-pdf

http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp


What Is Our Justice?

muted, and hopefulness, optimism, the sheer enjoyment of life and relation- ships - these feelings will predominate, not as a defence against pain, futility or uncertainty - but as a true expression of the Self.

In all of us there will be that endless inner movement, as we move between frustrations and satisfactions, tightrope walkers to the end of our days. As one of Arthur Miller's (Jewish) characters puts it: 'Jews been acrobats since the beginning of the world.'7

But whatever the balance we achieve in our lives - and I don't believe that that balance is ever static, we can't stand still on the tightrope - we will always retain within us, in our depths, a core of early experience which will pre- determine the shape of how we experience our lives. And that that early experience will inevitably involve degrees of suffering and aspects of fail- ure will come as no surprise to you.

I tend more and more these days to recognise the wisdom of T.SJEliot's evo- cation of the continuing effect of a trau- matic past on our present. Individually, or collectively, the suffering we may have endured does not disappear for ever. Sometimes it lies within us, unde- tected, or mute - and sometimes it rages in us as fiercely as it ever did. It is:

'... the ragged rock in the restless waters, Waves wash over it, fog conceal it; On a halcyon day it is merely a monument, In navigable weather it is always a seamark To lay a course by: but in the sombre season Or the sudden fury, is what is always was.'8

Notes. 1 The phrase belongs to the analyst Adam

Phillips and is borrowed from 'How to be your father's mother' ( London Review of Books, 12 September 1991, p. 18). This review of Philip Roth's 'Patrimony: A True Story' also contains the Roth quotation at the begin-

ning of this paper. 2 ibid., p. 18 3 The Storm, (Menard Press). 4 Quoted in the RSGB siddur, p.377 5 Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim : Later

Masters , (Schocken, 1972, p.249) 6 T.S.Eliot, Four Quartets, 'Burnt Norton',

lines 42-3. 7 Gregory Solomon in The Price ( Collected

Plays: Two, Methuen, 1988, p.3 19) 8 T.S.Eliot, Four Quartets, 'Dry Salvages, lines

118-23.

"What Is Our Justice?"

Fred Morgan*

Several months ago I participated in a discussion on Jewish responses to social issues. A variety of areas for Jewish response were mentioned: Apartheid, Homelessness, The Nuclear Arms Race, Ecological Issues, and so forth. At a certain point in the discussion one of the people present com- mented, "What do these subjects have to do with Judaism? My Christian neighbours are just as concerned about them as we are. There is nothing espe- cially Jewish about social action."

This is the topic for this evening's talk, on the theme "What is our Justice?" I am very much aware that we are approaching this theme under the general heading of this series, Jewish Identity. I am curious tonight to explore how questions about justice might relate to Jewish identity. Does it make sense to speak of a "Jewish Sense of *Rabbi Fred Morgan is a graduate of the Leo Baeck College, where he now lectures, and also the minister at North West Surrey Reform Synagogue.

76 EUROPEAN JUDAISM VOLUME 27 No.l SPRING 94




Justice"? Or to put the question another way, "What's Jewish about justice?"

At the start, it would be helpful to look at the Hebrew word which is used in the prayer from the morning service, " Ribon Ha'olamim ", which provides the title for this talk. The relevant phrase in the prayer is variously "mö/i tzidkenu " or "raa/z tzidkoteinu ' depend- ing on which siddur one refers to. The words tzedek and tzedakah do indeed mean justice, or righteousness. "Justice" here defines the manner in which we make decisions about matters which go beyond ourselves to concern the nature of society or the community at large. The concept of justice as intended by these terms has by definition a social dimension. It would not be of much use on the proverbial desert island. The word tzedek implies social equity, that is, a manner of decision making which takes into account as a goal the sort of society in which each person is enabled to fulfil his or her potential, by enjoy- ing the basic needs of life: adequate liv- ing space, clothing, food, health care, and so forth. There may be many ways, politically speaking, to achieve this goal of a balanced society. Tzedakah is not grounded in a particular political platform; rather, it implies a sensitivity to the goal of social equity, whatever the political approach adopted.

More concretely, the word tzedakah also refers to a mitzvah , the mitzvah of giving money or goods to those who are in need. In this concrete sense, the word tzedakah is generally translated as "charity". As is often pointed out, however, the Pauline concept of charity is more akin to a voluntary or free-will offering occasioned by a compassion- ate awakening of the heart; whereas tzedakah as a mitzvah is obligatory. To say that someone gives charity grudgingly sounds like a condemnation, but

to give tzedakah grudgingly is simp- ly one way of giving tzedakah ; as Maimonides, following the Talmud, taught with his classification of the "eight rungs of tzedakah ". Rabbi Dr Jonathan Sacks explains this in his booklet Wealth and Poverty: A Jewish Analysis , page 1 1 (reprinted in Tradition in an Untraditional Age [1990, Vallentine, Mitchell], p.193): "The conception of charity in Judaism is distinctive. Although I have used the word, the Hebrew term used by both the Bible and the Rabbis - tzedakah - belongs to the notion of justice rather than benevolence; and reflects the idea that since all property ultimately belongs to God, it is a sense of equity rather than of generosity that com- mands giving to others. The giving of charity could therefore be coerced by communal sanction and was formerly organized on a community basis." And in his recent book "With all your Possessions " (1987, The Free Press), a study of Jewish business ethics, Dr Meir Tamari writes, " Tzedakah ' has the same root as 4 tzedek ' - justice - since acts of assistance are looked upon in Jewish thought primarily as a rectifica- tion of a social imbalance. They are not merely prompted by mercy or personal pangs of conscience, but rather consti- tute the fulfillment of the obligations that flow from wealth. We have seen that Judaism envisages all wealth given to an individual as a form of custodianship. One of the major purposes of that custodianship is the acts of assistance that a man is able to perform with his God-given wealth." (pp248f)

Nonetheless, there is still a sense in which feelings and attitudes count in the giving of tzedakah , as Maimonides also observed. The interplay between what might be called the 'objective' and the 'subjective' aspects of tzedakah

EUROPEAN JUDAISM VOLUME 27 No.l SPRING 94 77




is described clearly by Professor Isa- dora Twersky, a leading Rabbinic scholar, in his article "Some Aspects of the Jewish Attitude Toward the Welfare State" (published in the journal Tradition , 1963). We may look at it this way. There is a double purpose to the giving of tzedakah : insofar as it helps the recipient, the mood of the donor is irrelevant; insofar as it instructs the soul of the donor, the donor's attitude or mood is paramount. Nowadays, when the sense of mitzvah has become degraded among many Jewish people, tzedakah is much more often taken in the sense of compassion- ate giving, without the corresponding sense of obligation.

In my Synagogue, which comprises some 350 households, approximately 50-55% give to our Yom Kippur Appeal. This appeal always includes at least three recipients, Jewish and non- Jewish causes, located here and in Israel, aiding adults and children. There's hardly any preference in giving which is not catered for in the Appeal. I don't know how our results compare with those of other Synagogues. I am aware that some of our members do indeed give under other auspices, and in other circumstances. In fact I don't even know whether this percentage of donors sounds high, low or "average" to you. But it seems to me that it sug- gests strongly that a substantial number of people in my Synagogue do not see tzedakah as the performance of a mitzvah , as I have described it. I imagine that the same would be true of Anglo- Jewry at large.

In one sense I have now answered the question posed by our prayer: "What is our tzedakahT' The answer is 50%. This kind of answer accurately reflects one strain of Rabbinic imagery, for example, the use of the term cheshbon

nefesh "an accounting of the soul" which appears so often over the Days of Awe. It also reflects the imagery of the Mishnaic passage (from Mishnah Peah ): "These are the things whose interest a man enjoys in this world, while the capital remains for him in the world to come..." Interestingly enough tzedakah is not included in the list of things whose interest a man enjoys in this world, but gemilut chasadim "char- itable acts of generosity and love" is included in the list. Apparently there is no bonus or merit for doing what we are obliged to do.

Though this may be true in the life to come (something about which I do not know), it is not entirely true in this life. There is indeed a "spin-off' from tzedakah , and that is in terms of Jewish identity. By acting as individuals, but in response to the norms and customs of our community, we affirm our links with that community and root ourselves in it. It seems to me that identity and rootedness are very close concepts.

Speaking in general terms, my personal identity may include bits and pieces from many sources - my life spent with parents and siblings, experiences from birth through childhood and adolescence, involvement with youth movements and with Judaism (as dis- tinct from other religions), my time at school, etc., etc. These experiences from my past shape my self-image and give me my sense of individuality, my self-esteem, my sense of my own skills and weaknesses, and so forth. They separate me from others.

My identity in Jewish terms, on the contrary, links me to the Jewish People. In order to accede to the norms and customs of my community, I give up something of my individuality, my personal identity. I root my self, that is my knowl- edge of my self, not within myself, but

78 EUROPEAN JUDAISM VOLUME 27 No. 1 SPRING 94




in the community. This, as I understand it, is what it means to become "rooted". Rootedness provides a basis outside the self, from which to enhance the self by sharing the norms and customs of the community with others.

An understanding of the notion of "personal identity" which focuses on individuality and the development of self through introspection, is the subject of psychology. But "identity in relation to community" is best explored through sociology. It is sociologists like Emile Durkeim, an outstanding Jewish sociologist of the earlier part of this century, who worked out the process of "deracination": what happens when someone, a Jewish person for example, cuts their links with the community. The process of "de-rooting" leads to the phenomenon which Dürkheim called anomie , a kind of disorientation and an emptying of meaning from life, which comes about from the lack of participation in norms and customs which are community based. Under normal circumstances these norms and customs cannot come from within ourselves. They are the expression of rootedness in community. When they do come from within the individual, as severe idiosyncracies, they are understood to be symptomatic of anomie , the signs of neurosis. Norms and customs which are healthy emerge within communities which pass on their awareness from generation to generation.

In my line of work, I meet people regularly who are suffering from anomie - and I do mean "suffering". It is often mistaken for a psychological illness. But though it expresses itself in psychological disorientation, the "cure" of anomie lies in finding and commit- ting to community. Just the other evening I was speaking to someone who has been experiencing all sorts of

symptoms associated with rootlessness. Through a friend, she was brought into contact with the Jewish community. After a period of study, she began ten- tatively to light Shabbat candles and carry out other rituals of our religion, and she felt something very powerful stir within her. Those stirrings are the roots of Jewish identity beginning to grow within her. Of course, these feelings of belonging are associated with aspects of her personal identity, which relate to her family, her parents, her partner and others. But her need is to move beyond the starting-point of her own psyche, to join in meaningful experience with other like-minded people, to discover common values through shared action, - in short, to enter into community. As Martin Buber put it: "to begin with oneself but not to end with oneself..." That lady has begun her commitment to community by adapting the ritual norm of lighting the Shabbat candles. Tzedakah in traditional Jewish terms, as a mitzvah, is equally an expression of Jewish identity. In part, at least, that is why it is there; to root the Jewish person in the norms of the Jewish world.

The concrete sense of tzedakah as giving is, as I have said, only a specific instance of the much broader meaning of tzedakah as "justice" or "righteousness". The link between the more abstract notion of righteousness and Jewish identity is through concrete acts like putting one's loose change in the pushke or giving to the Yom Kippur Appeal. This was truly the genius of Jewish tradition as it developed in our past, through the halakhah : to link values, actions and community norms in such a way that Jewish identity was self perpetuating from generation to generation; and with it, Jewish "survival". That is to say, you don't have to be

EUROPEAN JUDAISM VOLUME 27 No. 1 SPRING 94 79




Jewish to hold to justice as a value, or to give money to needy institutions, but the value of justice and the act of giving come to be strong elements of Jewish identity for those who are com- mitted to the community.

There is another side to this coin of identity, however. If we look to this aspect of identity, we can understand why these links I have just described have so often become broken in the modern period. The sociologist Dürkheim recognised that the dissipa- tion of social norms leads to a condi- tion of disorientation, anomie. This is one extreme along a continuum. The other extreme is reached when there is too much social control, when the norms of society become too inflexible and impersonal. It was, I believe, Max Weber who recognised that too much social control inhibits the expression of personal freedom in the decision making process. The behaviour of the individuals in the community becomes "routinised", and there is a dissociation of the self from the actions which it car- ries out. This feature of social life is called alienation. Alienation here means the cutting off of the self from the actions which the community dic- tates, actions which are then seen as oppressive or restrictive. The concept of alienation is also used, more famous- ly, by Karl Marx; but there it refers to the cutting off of the self from the eco- nomic modes of production.

Many Jews today, feeling alienated from a Jewish lifestyle, attempt to escape their alienation by refusing to commit themselves to a Jewish community, and with it a Jewish identity. In relation to tzedakah , this means that such individuals refuse to see their involvement with matters of justice as an authentic expression of Jewish identity. For those in such a situation, the

prayerful question: "what is our justice?" makes no sense, because there is no such things as our justice. For such people there is no "Jewish community" which empowers its members as a body to "seek justice", and no identification with the Jewish community through the pursuit of justice. This also means, however, that the links between righteousness as an abstract value, righteous giving as a concrete expression of that value, and community as the source of the value have for a person in this situation, been cut. It becomes a matter of chance whether a person alienated from the community will link abstract notions of justice with practical activi- ties of giving. Certainly such a person would not see their involvement with social action and justice as an expression of the norm of a community. Even fee-paying members of the Jewish community can be alienated from the community to which they belong, if they fail to see any involvement they happen to have with matters of justice as an expression of Jewishness, but if they see their involvement "merely" as an expression of their being human.

To sum up: anomie , disorientation, arises from rootlessness, from the fail- ure to commit to a community which can guide our actions, provide an absolute sense of value, and promote practical action within that framework. Alienation, the dissociation of the self from the practical results of decision making, arises from authoritarianism within the community. It occurs when the community does not guide but demand; when there is too little individual participation in the practical debating of community values. Both of these extremes, anomie and alienation, are as common today as they have been throughout the twentieth century, and they both threaten Jewish identity.

80 EUROPEAN JUDAISM VOLUME 27 No.l SPRING 94



What is Our Strength and Our Endurance?

Their workings are as relevant to the area of justice, as to other areas of Jewish life.

One way to avoid these extreme posi- tions on the sociological continuum is to seek to bring problems or issues of tzedakah to the community for open discussion. This enhances commitment, personal involvement in communal decision-making and at the same time a sense of the value of the communal norm of justice. Students of the Akiva School, the Progressive Jewish day school in London followed this course of action by posing a question regard- ing tzedakah to the Rabbis in the Progressive Jewish movement in England: "On what basis should we allocate the money we collect as tzedakah at Akiva School?" Open discussion of such a question contributes to the development of Jewish identity, by engaging all who take part in the discussion in the consideration of norms and customs from the Jewish past and their relationship to the Jewish present. By participating in the question, we feel a stake in the outcome and can thus commit ourselves to the decisions which we arrive at through our participation in the community.

I hope that through our discussion of the issues this evening we have come a bit closer to finding an answer to the questions with which we began: "Does it make sense to speak of a 'Jewish sense of justice'?" "What is Jewish about justice?" - Justice is Jewish when we commit to it through a community of Jews , which provides us with an appro- priate forum for our debates , and when we plan to put our thoughts into action from within that community.

What is Our Strength and Our Endurance?

Irene Bloomfield*

In this paper I would like to look at some of the attributes which enable certain people to endure great hardship, whilst others are destroyed by minor ones. I want to explore how we devel- op strength, confidence and optimism as individuals and as communities, give some illustrations of individual strength and weakness and look at some of the origins of both.

The Oxford Dictionary defines endurance as the ability to withstand pain, or hardship or prolonged strain. There are, of course many kinds of physical and mental pain, of poverty, hardship and loss and Jews have had more than their share of most of these situations. But whilst we need to remember all of this and not try to for- get any of it, we must not ignore the suffering of so many others. I am think- ing of some of the hostages whose return we have witnessed recently. How did a seventy-five year old man like Jackie Mann survive two years of chains, darkness isolation, ill health and uncertainty, how did Terry Waite survive four years chained to a radiator? According to Amnesty International there are at present 14 million refugees in the world, and that is likely to be an underestimate. Every now and then our television screens remind us of the appalling suffering, misery and hardship of refugees the world over. There * Irene Bloomfield is a psychotherapist. Until her retirment she was the Director of the Raphael Centre and lecturer at Leo Baeck College.

EUROPEAN JUDAISM VOLUME 27 No.l SPRING 94 81



"what is our justice?"

Documents