Peoplehood, Ethnicty, and Religion

    When I got out of the mikveh, following my conversion ceremony, my rabbi said, "Welcome to the Jewish people." Those words guided me and welcomed me into a new identity; one that was simultaneously religious and ethnic. I was now part of the "people of Israel," "Am Yisrael." In the days and years that have followed, I've turned these words and the concept of peoplehood over and over in my head. What does it mean for me, a Jew by Choice, to be part of an ethnic group that my genes deny (or at least most of them)? What does it mean for me to say that I am part of this people especially when all Jews outside of progressive Jewish circles would not consider me as such (because of my Reform conversion)?
   As always, I am filled with a myriad of questions and few answers. Over the last few years, especially during my time at HUC-JIR in Cincinnati (during my first MA from HUC), I read quite a bit on early Reform concepts of peoplehood. In many ways, peoplehood for these rabbis took a backseat to religion. As American Reform Judaism emerged, the concept of peoplehood and ethnicity fell away; or at least was relegated to the periphery of the conversation. For instance, in the Pittsburgh Platform, the first statement of the principles of the Reform movement written in 1885, the phrase "the Jewish people" is only mentioned twice. The statements then focus primarily on negating past practices and emphasizing "progressive religion." By the 1930s, however, with the "Columbus Platform" written in 1937, there is a distinct uptick in the use of the word "people." It is clear that with the first sentence of the platform that peoplehood will be a focal point for Reform Judaism. Judaism is then defined as "the historical religious experience of the Jewish people." In large part, this sudden emphasis on peoplehood, moving from the universality of the first platform to the specific nature of the second can be attributed to an increase in antisemitism both in the United States and in Europe and the need unite in the face of rising external pressures. 
(http://ccarnet.org/rabbis-speak/platforms/guiding-principles-reform-judaism/)
    The third platform was not developed or published until the 1970s. The San Francisco Platform is written in the shadow of the Shoah (The Holocaust) and in the light of the miracle of the establishment of the State of Israel. Peoplehood, for the first time, is completely inescapable. In this case, not only is peoplehood mentioned, but it becomes a headline within the greater scope of the text. There is an entire section devoted to "The People Israel" which reads:

The Jewish people and Judaism defy precise definition because both are in the process of becoming. Jews, by birth or conversion, constitute an uncommon union of faith and peoplehood. Born as Hebrews in the ancient Near East, we are bound together like all ethnic groups by language, land, history, culture, and institutions. But the people of Israel is unique because of its involvement with God and its resulting perception of the human condition. Throughout our long history our people has been inseparable from its religion with its messianic hope that humanity will be redeemed.

Here, the authors of the platform acknowledge the difficulties associated with defining Jewish peoplehood. However, despite the fact that it is not easily defined, the authors use it pervasively throughout the text. In large part, this is due to the need to grapple with the near extinction of the people of Israel, and the existence of a Jewish state-whose existence was and is dependent on the concept of Jewish peoplehood. No longer could Jewish peoplehood be related explicitly to religion, but had to in some part be connected with ethnicity. If nothing else, the "Law of Return" allowing aliyah (immigration to Israel for Jews), was and continues to be a signifier of ethnicity and peoplehood. At the same time, the platform seeks to be as inclusive as possible.

The most recent platform, published in 1999, in Pittsburgh, expands the definition of peoplehood a bit more than its predecessor by associating it with the title "Israel." However, Israel in this sense is "Am Yisrael."

We are Israel, a people aspiring to holiness, singled out through our ancient covenant and our unique history among the nations to be witnesses to God's presence. We are linked by that covenant and that history to all Jews in every age and place.
(http://ccarnet.org/rabbis-speak/platforms/statement-principles-reform-judaism)

Such a definition of peoplehood is far less explicit, in so far that it does not provide a direct definition of Jews as a people more cultural in nature as the line "We are Hebrews..." indicates in the platform from the 1970s.

The next paragraph in the text also deals with peoplehood:

We are committed to the (mitzvah) of (ahavat Yisrael), love for the Jewish people, and to (k'lal Yisrael), the entirety of the community of Israel. Recognizing that (kol Yisrael arevim zeh ba-zeh), all Jews are responsible for one another, we reach out to all Jews across ideological and geographical boundaries.
 (http://ccarnet.org/rabbis-speak/platforms/reform-judaism-centenary-perspective).

Who is part of the Jewish people? What does it mean to feel a part of the Jewish people? What is the difference between ethnicity and peoplehood? Does peoplehood or religion take precedence? As always, what is the balance between the universal and particular? 

As the Reform movement has developed over time, so has its relationship to the concept of peoplehood. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, it was possible for Reform Judaism to be almost entirely universal and to put off defining Jewish peoplehood. With antisemitism on the rise, there was finally a need to return to the idea of Jewish peoplehood, and in response to the Shoah and to the establishment of the State of Israel, an even more particularlistic stance was needed. Although I do not disagree with these responses, I do believe that more conversations need to be had in terms of the way Reform Jews feel about the term "peoplehood" today.

The line in the 1976 platform that accepts the varieties of Jewish peoplehood is helpful, however, it still does not quite provide a means by which Jews by choice, Jews of different races or for that matter, even non-Ashkenazi Jews, define themselves within the contexts of Jewish peoplehood. Especially in the United States where the synagogue is the center of religious life rather than necessarily the center of cultural life, how do we return to a discussion of Jewish peoplehood? How does peoplehood interact with our views of Israel both when they are positive, disconnected, or when they are sometimes at odds, especially for those who may be excluded from the Law of Return? Although this has not been part of my personal experience, we must become of the idea that many of us juggle multiple identities that are not only dually hyphenated "American-Jews," but maybe triply hypenated; "Black-American-Jewish" or "Asian-American-Jewish," "Jew by Choice-American-Jewish," not to even mention sexual orientation.

      The Torah can be used in some ways as a means to an end in terms of answering some of these questions. If we look at the Torah as a living and breathing document with various types of peoples being adopted or lost over time, we can then, therefore accept that "Jewish peoplehood" has been a constantly changing term. "Jewish peoplehood" does not mean one thing, as the writers of the 1976 platform acknowledge. Although we often accept that Ruth was the first Jew by choice in the Torah, we fail to acknowledge that she also held a hyphenated identity. She was a "Moabite-Jewess." While the text never gives us a glimpse into her actual struggle with these two identities, I and many others cannot escape the intricacies of balancing multiple identities.

Most days, it is very easy for me to be incognito, and to fall into line as just a run of the  mill Jew. However some days, when we discuss Jewish geography, parent's Hebrew names, or family origins, I struggle because my experience is very different. At the same time, I can blend in. For my friends and colleagues who balance identities that can be viewed with the naked eye, life can be a daily struggle, especially in Israel where Ethiopian Jews are still viewed with skepticism and even racism. Not only that, but with large numbers of Asian workers and Sudanese asylum seekers, those Jews whether born Jewish or Jews by choice (Mizrachi or Ethiopian) become targets of hatred. For instance, a classmate of mine was once pulled off of a bus because an individual thought she was an illegal immigrant. She was just visiting Israel for the first time.

What does it mean to be a people? What does it mean for Jews to be an ethnic group and also a religion? How do we come to terms with all of our hyphenations and identities which we carry around with us everyday? How can we be both a separate people and yet a universal people? These are questions with which I am still struggling, with which rabbis before and after me have been and will continue to struggle. Although we will continue to struggle,  I hope we will find better ways to be kind and accepting of one anothers' identities and struggles with this trifecta of peoplehood, ethnicity, and religion, in whatever form that takes in our lives. In conclusion, may we come to love our hyphenations through deep questioning and struggle, and find peace and comfort in loving all aspects of ourselves without judgement, and without hesitation, both as a people and as individuals.