Embracing messiness
If we're serious about diversity, then we have to acknowledge that it's not easy
My family and I have belonged to the same congregation for more than 25 years. (Full disclosure: my wife is now its executive director.) It serves a largely downtown community, and its members are predominantly from outside the Jewish mainstream. Or maybe I’m just projecting.
A large percentage of our members are in interfaith marriages or relationships. We have many queer members and artists and others whose own identities might not fit neatly into conventional stereotypes. We have been proudly unaffiliated with traditional Jewish movements since the beginning.
I was on the board about 20 years ago when we were in a major growth phase. We began the process of looking for cemetery space for our members and ran into a problem: kosher cemeteries won’t bury interfaith couples together. Very few other cemeteries offered enough space or could meet our other requirements. We debated, we consulted, and ultimately, we decided - in the words of the immortal philosopher, Geddy Lee - not to decide.
More recently, there was another round of consultations, this time on members’ feelings about and connections to Israel, or lack thereof. As you can imagine, there was a wide range of ideas and emotions expressed. The survey was conducted after October 7, although the questions weren’t related to those events.
Jewish people like to argue. It’s part of our DNA. In fact, it’s something I’ve long felt we have in common with Jesuits. So, when we got together to review the results, things got somewhat heated.
I think I was where most others were - that the current genocide had changed everything. One thing that stood out for me was that there was less focus than I would have liked to see on the experience of Palestinians in the region. Most of the questions were about our own experience. When we were asked for our feedback, one young man in my group made the excellent point that what was needed was deep learning and unlearning about the realities of the entire situation, not just one small part of it.
At the end of the evening, another long-time member got up to speak. Her voice and hands shaking, and clearly near tears, she announced loudly her feeling that we hadn’t been doing enough for Israel. She sobbed as she explained her views and intimated that she wondered whether the community still welcomed her. She’s one of our founders.
Her reaction really gave me pause. If we truly offer a big-tent approach and believe in diversity and inclusion - and we do, or I wouldn’t be there - then we need to hold space for people who feel as she does. Diversity is messy. It’s about learning to sit with discomfort. While I profoundly disagreed with her assessment, she came by it out of honest conviction. We owe her the dignity of recognizing her views.
Yes, it made me uncomfortable. Pluralism will do that. I completely reject the idea that we should “accept” or “tolerate” those who are different than we are. I prefer to say we should embrace them. To quote the late Canadian political leader Jack Layton, “Love is stronger than anger.” It’s not always an easy choice to make. Frankly, though, I don’t see what choice we have if we genuinely want to work toward peace.