The Assimilating Bagel



A cry reverberates throughout the Jewish world today: Continuity! And what the term continuity obviously implies is a fight for survival, because only when you are on the verge of disappearing do you need to speak about continuity.



A recent front-page New York Times story entitled "The Assimilating Bagel" told this tale: Once a hard, round roll with a big hole in the center, the world-renowned bagel was a Jewish specialty, which, when eaten with cream cheese and lox, allowed one to momentarily forget their worldly troubles. But the bagel is rapidly changing. Its crust is getting softer, the hole is getting smaller and little by little, the once unique bagel is turning into a bun.



Replace "bagel" with "Jewry" and the metaphor is obvious. American Jews are assimilating with frightening speed.



At Chabad House at Stanford University, I'm occasionally called by distraught parents worried about the impending intermarriage of their son or daughter. I always agree to meet the student, and in most cases the story is the same:
Mom and Dad sent me to Hebrew school, and gave me a bar or bat mitzvah. But they sent mixed messages. When I neglected my secular education, they were angry, but when I missed Hebrew lessons, they didn't mind. I learned about the laws of Jewish life, but they did not seem to keep them, or if they did, they did so selectively. They said that Judaism mattered, but their actions showed that it didn't matter much. At my bar/bat mitzvah, they were more concerned about the catering than if I understood the words I recited in synagogue. As I grew older, they were more interested in which college I went to and which career I pursued than whether I followed Judaism. They wanted me to marry a Jewish person, but gave me no real reason why.
The Vanishing Fourth Generation



It is said that inherited wealth lasts for three generations. The same applies to inherited Judaism. Today's young Jews are, by and large, of the fourth generation. In the fourth generation, Jewish identity is either renewed or it vanishes.



Next month, we'll be addressing the Haggadah's famous "Four Children" at the Seder table. These may represent four successive generations. The wise son is the immigrant generation who received a good Jewish education and still lives Jewishly. The rebellious son is the second generation who, lacking a meaningful Jewish education, abandons Jewish identity for social integration. The "simple" child is the third generation, confused by the mixed messages of religious grandparents and non-religious parents. The child who cannot even ask the question is the fourth generation, who no longer has a memory or context of Jewish life.



Today's youth are the fourth generation. They do not take it for granted that they will marry another Jew, establish a Jewish home or will raise Jewish children. Nothing can be taken for granted in the fourth generation, especially in an open society with its huge marketplace of competing ideologies.



From Loving and Living to Continuity



The fourth generation will choose to be Jewish for these reasons only: knowing the sacred history of our people, sensing the richness of Jewish life, understanding the profundity of Judaism and feeling proud to be Jewish. To guide their children into the promised land of Jewish heritage, the parent must be there themselves.



We must live Judaism to inspire those who will continue after us. The Torah says, "You shall love G-d with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might... And you shall teach these things to your children." Rabbi Moses Alshekh explained: We can only teach to our children what we ourselves love.



To be a true Jewish parent is to be willing to take one's child's hand and walk together on the Jewish journey, demonstrating that we live, practice and cherish the faith we want them to continue. Wordsworth put it nicely: "What we have loved, others will love, and we will teach them how."



In the thirteenth century, the Sefer HaHinukh expressed this truth: "The heart is drawn after the deed." We are what we do. To be a Jew requires constant engagement of Jewish learning and Jewish doing. Without this, Jewish identity fades and dies.



Therefore, we need a kind of nationwide Manhattan Project of education, so that all Jewish children can experience, learn and live their heritage and know: to be a Jew is to be a moral and spiritual heir to those who stood at Mount Sinai, an heir to the world's most ancient, resilient and awe-inspiring faith.



To be a Jew is to inherit a legacy that has shaped moral civilization and earned the universal admiration for its dedication to family, its commitment to education, its values of charity and social justice, and the belief that human life is sacred.



To be a Jew is to be part of a journey begun by Abraham and Sarah, and continued by their children until today. This way of life can only be sustained through the Jewish family and a conscious choice to build a Jewish home. No child who has been touched by Judaism's spirit of eternity would willingly snap the link between the past and the future.



The renewal of Torah education is the only route to the renewal of the Jewish people. This and only this will end the crisis of Jewish continuity.



At the beginning of the twenty-first century, we stand as if on a mountain peak surveying the majestic landscape of Jewish history. We know that those who sought to annihilate the Jewish people, like Pharaoh, collect dust in museum exhibits, while Am Yisrael Chai, the people of Israel live. If we would only remember the extraordinary miracles it took to get us to this day, we would joyfully do our task to ensure that the next generation's Yiddishkeit is strong. This is the greatest gift we can give to the Jewish past and the Jewish future.