Monday, January 25, 2010

Wrestle Me This

Jewish Wrestling isn't the sport you might think it is. There are no spandex unitards or funny costumes and gimmicks. The matches aren't rigged and there is never a clear winner. Although the tradition of Jewish Wrestling traces all the way back to Jacob and his physical struggle with an aggressive angel, the wrestling we do today is a match of logic and reason. It's the cerebral wrestling we do with Jewish concepts and ethics; with the code prescribed by the Torah and the great thinkers who had plenty to say about this code. My fellow Bad Jews, this is a seriously Bad Ass sport. And the coolest thing about it? Anyone can compete.

As a Bad Jew committed to service, there's an ongoing wrestling match to which I find myself constantly drawn. It's a match that addresses a critical question about service: Who is service for? On one hand I hear your collective sigh of "No Duh." Service is for the recipient, for those in need. Yet my other hand is grasping firmly to another opinion. This is an opinion that includes the concept of reciprocity as an integral element of high quality, effective service learning. Learning, being the key word here, as a tool that helps those of us providers of service understand root causes of social injustices and Jewish traditions that call us to service in the first place. In other words, the link between Jewish identity and the fulfillment of civic responsibility.

I was struck by a quote in a December editorial in the Jewish Daily Forward that cited, “Service has to be about making change in communities, not about making changes in me,” noted David Rosenn, executive director of Avodah, another well-regarded service program. “The last thing we want the Jewish community to do is use communities in distress as a vehicle to build identity.” (http://www.forward.com/articles/120018/)

What I'm wrestling with here is the "shame on you" implication that service should not be used to transform ourselves, but only communities that need help. Aren't our own passions, education, and commitment to making social change the vehicles driving us to provide service and make changes in our communities? Don't these three important factors come from a place deeply rooted in our identities? I mean, maybe what I'm really saying is I don't believe in true altruism; that there is always something to be gained by the provider of service. Whether it's the feeling that we belong to something bigger than ourselves, a sense of civic responsibility, or the learning about a new culture or community's way of life, these "side effects" are what foster a sustained commitment to leaving the world a better place than how we received it. Now I ask you, Bad Jews, is this a negative effect of participating in service? Because it sure doesn't sound like it to me.

Of course I would never suggest to purposefully manipulate a service activity in order to fulfill the outcome of building identity. That would most definitely deserve a "shame on you." If, however, service in its natural form acts as a conductor to Jewish identity and causes changes within oneself, I have to argue that service is, in fact, about making changes in me as well as about saving the world.

And so, in the tradition of debate between the schools of the great rabbis Hillel and Shammai, it appears we have two sides to this question. It's time to join the wrestling match, my fellow Bad Jews. Are you in? Like I said, you don't even need a costume.

2 comments:

  1. I am torn on this one too, ESPECIALLY if you take out the unitards! But I don't believe that service learning doesn't manipulate its work in the name its participants. Look at the difference between these programs and international aid in Haiti, Darfur, the former Yugoslavia. Those workers may be pursuing their passions and living their identities, but the work doesn't care. The work cares about the work getting done. Whereas in our SLPs, we take time for reflection, education, and often invest as much time and resources in the workers as we do the communities in need. The validating part of this comes from a hope that the workers who were not previously engaged in this work or philanthropy or social justice, will continue these pursuits on their own in the future when there is no longer a program to hold their hand. The question is, how often do SLPs do long-term tracking to see if this is a wise investment. Because I am involved in it, I clearly do believe in it. But as true Bad Jew, I also wrestle with it and dream in doubts.

    Thanks for giving more light to this quandry and keep up the great writing! Next time throw in some body tights, though!

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  2. This is one of your best blogs to date. We, as Jews, are always fighting, wrestling, or arguing with our aggressive angels. Thank G-d we don’t believe in devils, as we have our hands full fighting with the angels! I agree with you that the author of the editorial in the Jewish Forward doesn’t really have a handle on community service.
    If we have a great self-concept and are completely comfortable and happy with ourselves, then the next logical step is community service. If, however, we are not comfortable or happy with ourselves, I believe helping ourselves is a first step towards helping others. The catch is they are not mutually exclusive. Helping ourselves first may be egocentric; if we do not have a good handle on our own longings, desires, and goals, then we may not be very good at trying to change society.
    But, on the other hand, becoming a member of a community (which community doesn’t really matter here—it could be our local Jewish community, or our neighborhood community, or any such collection of people with the same goal), may help to get us from intense introversion and self-analysis to “other-centered” ideals. Every person is different; there is no “this way or the highway” entry into community service. Get yourself “together” in order to help others or help others in order to get yourself “together.” Both work!
    There are ALWAYS at least two sides to every story. That’s why, even though I’m not religious, I’m proud to be a Jew. After the first expulsion of the Israelites from Judea to Babylon, the Israelites, through their arguments and debates with each other about the meaning of the Torah, bore the Babylonian Talmud. Even today, this Talmud is studied even more than the Bible itself. It created, almost 2500 years ago, a starting point for all the Rabbinic decisions since then.
    It also created a starting point for the later Jewish philosophers (Maimonides, Hillel, Spinoza, among others) who enhanced ancient Jewish thought through the Golden Age of Islam (especially in Spain and Northern Africa), the Medieval Period of Christian Theocratic Darkness , through the Renaissance and beyond.
    The ancient Jewish belief or tradition of questioning of everything, also brought us the “Age of Reason” philosophies of Moses Mendelssohn and Immanuel Kant, to the very modern existential philosophy of Martin Buber, et al.
    Throughout our history, from pre-Israelites (Jacob wrestling the angels), to the Israelites in self-imposed exile and exit (Moses and his people and the golden calf), through the ages of Israel and Judea, the Kings, the Prophets, and the Judges, even before the Babylonian exile and the Roman exile which created the Diaspora, we Jews (no matter how we referred to ourselves or were referred to in our history) have always argued with each other, with G-d, and with life. Even 19th and 20th century literature continued this strange relationship between ourselves and our G-d: Tevye wondered why G-d did not make him a rich man, while Portnoy certainly had his complaints!
    We, either on an “earthly” plane or on a more “heavenly” plane, should continue to wrestle with our thoughts, our views, and our beliefs about G-d, life, and how we should live our lives. Should we focus on ourselves or our community? Let’s debate it!

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