By Jonathan Marx
How do we balance an emphasis on inclusion and diversity with the importance of finding a strong community which reflects one’s values? After spending a Shabbat in the beautiful town of Alon Shvut, my thoughts centered not on the varied political opinions about the Jewish communities of Gush Etzion, but on this complicated question.
At first Alon Shvut struck me as, quite simply, an Orthodox Jewish utopia. Arriving on Friday afternoon, we saw rows of houses filled with the smells and sounds of last-minute cooking and preparation for Shabbat. Soon after, the gates of the community closed for Shabbat, and families from all directions began to converge on the synagogue in the town center to daven the evening prayers together. Sitting amongst rows and rows of men in white shirts and kippot, I felt part of a large, strong, cohesive Jewish communal lifestyle. That night, we all slept in the homes of various families who live in the town, and we got to know them better over lunch the next day. Everyone came back with similarly glowing reports about the kind hospitality, the food, and the beautiful homes in which they’d stayed.
Thinking later, though, I began to wonder about the place of pluralism and diversity in this community. In a town where every family practices its Judaism in a similar way and looks to create a homogenous community, is there room for questioning beliefs or welcoming Jews of a different strain? And does creating such a secluded and independent community restrict the flow of knowledge and culture between Israel’s diverse populations? These are the questions that the residents of Alon Shvut, as well as Israelis as a whole, must answer.
For us, as members of the Nachshon Project and future North American Jewish leaders, these same questions apply to our lives in the diaspora. Is Jewish life richer and more worthwhile when residing in densely-populated “Jewish neighborhoods” (filled with religious schools, synagogues, kosher restaurants, and community-centered social services), or should we place an emphasis on developing community within larger, more spread-out, and more diverse areas (with opportunities for cultural learning and cooperation, interfaith dialogue, and steps towards peace on a personal and communal level)? There’s no easy answer, and these are questions that I will no doubt struggle with for the rest of my life.
For now, though, the most important thing is to glean even a taste of as many different varied experiences as possible - and for that, I can’t be thankful enough for my weekend in Alon Shvut. Whether or not I ever make aliyah and find myself living on my people’s historical homeland, I can firmly say that my time in Gush Etzion gave me greater appreciation and a stronger connection to the land and people of Israel, to go along with new perspectives and ideas about how to bring that love back and share it with friends and students living in North America.
