EXHIBIT A:

1. a. A person unknowledgeable in Torah, the opposite of a “talmid chacham” (a learned student).

b. (During the Second Temple and Rabbinic Period) A simple person who is not scrupulous about commandments, specifically in matters of ritual purity.

2. (pejorative) boor, an uneducated person, ignoramus.

3. In biblical context, the common people (as opposed to the upper classes); including non-Jewish inhabitants of the land of Israel.

From the Babylonian Talmud, Pesahim 49a-b:

I would like to take you seriously, but to do so would affront your intelligence.

Our Rabbis taught: Let a man always sell all he has and marry the daughter of a scholar, for if he dies or goes into exile, he is assured that his children will be scholars. But let him not marry the daughter of an ‘am ha-aretz, for if he dies or goes into exile, his children will be ‘amme ha-aretz.

Our Rabbis taught: Let a man always sell all he has and marry the daughter of a scholar, and marry his daughter to a scholar. This may be compared to [the grafting of] grapes of a vine with grapes of a vine, [which is] a seemly and acceptable thing. But let him not marry the daughter of an ‘am ha-aretz; this may be compared to [the grafting of] grapes of a vine with berries of a thorn bush [which is] a repulsive and unacceptable thing.

This condemnation, by the way, was one of the more literary examples of rabbinic disdain.  The trash-talking piles on and up as one works their way down the folio page.   One can almost imagine the glee of the rabbis (including the ex-’am ha-aretz Rabbi Akiva – hmm…), heaping more derision upon the feckless and wayward boors.

EXHIBIT B:

To be one of (or one with) “the people of the Land” could be parsed as being well integrated into the local society, conversant in its ways, and amenable to its core assumptions and values.  Some folks might use more modern descriptors/synonyms like “assimilated,” “acculturated,” “initiated”, “blended” or “naturalized” to describe such a person.

For such an individual, there would be no language barrier, glass ceiling or any legal or social obstacles preventing them from acquiring professional training, affluence and influence.  In this respect, to be an am ha-aretz is an advantage.

THE PARADOX (in that there is an inherent contradiction, or contra-perception):

Traditional models of Jewish engagement supported by the traditional paradigm (along with its scolds, wags, bobble heads and think-tanksters) regards being an ’am ha-aretz as pejorative, something to be overcome.

The overwhelming majority of Jews see being an ‘am ha-aretz as a mark of success.

then, I wonder, how substantive and effective can these communities be as sources of meaning and connection for the individuals involved?  And how well do they function?

Let’s look at an example from a different realm of 21st century life…

Hockey (I am in Canada, y’all…) demands early wake-ups, juggling carpool logistics, physically taxing practices, expensive gear, and demanding game schedules that seem to stretch over the whole of the calendar year and often demand extensive travel.  Families, I have heard, feel held hostage to these schedules… but, no worries, they quickly develop Stockholm syndrome.

Now let us imagine if those involved in that hypothetical hockey team told the coach:

Tzitzit not included.

“You know, my kid is on the team.  And she really wants to be on the team, but she hates waking up early.  Just hates it.  So I think she can commit to coming to practice before school maybe once a month.  And, well, yeah, I really think that spending all that money on pads and skates and helmets and sticks, well… we can talk about that later.  And as for the game schedule, it’s really demanding on my family and you know we have all these other commitments… but she really wants to play so perhaps we can change the schedule a little to make it fit in to our schedule a bit better?”

Any thoughts about how the coach might reply?

And yet, when we talk about Team Jews, we expect all the coaches everywhere to address the following question with great sensitivity and pragmatism:

So how do we teach Hebrew, t’fillah, holidays, Israel, life cycle events, and mitzvot, while inculcating mensch-like behavior and values in under four hours a week, while not conflicting with the community’s soccer schedule?

(This question comes as part of Wren Beaulieu-Hack’s rumination about family involvement in Jewish education and how that might bridge the time gap…)

My short, glib answer:  We don’t.  We can’t.  Especially when Jewishness clashes with Soccerism or Hockeyanity.

When Beaulieu-Hack writes that “parents are demanding and want their children to be Jewish”, I wonder:  How much are parents willing to put on the line to back this demand? Would they be willing to give up soccer and hockey for twelve years if it conflicted with content-and-value-rich Jewish learning experiences? Or, if they are not comfortable with either/ors, would they be willing to commit to soccer and hockey to a substantially lesser degree?

Once I designed a t-shirt with the following slogan:  ”JUDAISM – the Ultimate Extra-Curricular Activity!”   It would have made an epic statement about commitment and priorities, but then, I realized, that folks might not get the joke and shelved the design.

And upon re-reading this post (as I did with a previous post), I realized that the tone might strike one as being a bit judgmental about team sports and individual and family choices, but hey, where would I be, as a Jewish educator charged with imparting Jewish values, if I stood idly by (or “on the sidelines” ) and said nothing about whether Jewish learning might have more value vis-a-vis normative Jewish behaviour or the future of the Jewish people than, say, playing soccer or hockey?  And I know full well that in speaking ill of hockey north of the 49th parallel, I take my life in my own hands… but for the sake of the Jewish people, I will not be silent!

FIRST of SIX THOUGHTS:  Regardless of denomination or inclination, Jews cannot be Jews without the Torah.

There I said it.

Let the poopstorm begin.

Now when I say “Torah,” I mean Torah.  I mean the Five Books of Moses.  I also mean a straight-up confrontation with the content of these books, unmediated by commentaries.  Think of Robert Crumb’s Book of Genesis.  You get every verse without exception, right up in your face in black and white; the good, bad and the zaftig.  (Did I use that semicolon correctly in the previous sentence?  I feel like I did but one never does know…)

What about mitzvot, you say?  What about theophany?  What about covenant?  What about Sinai?

All good.  But FIRST we all need to grapple with Torah – every jot and tittle (say that five times fast without bursting into laughter) for if nothing else, it gives Jews a common language and a place from where we can all begin the conversation.

Consider the (in)famous anecdote about Nehama Leibowitz teaching Tanakh to soldiers and asking them to find the story of Abraham and the idol-shop in their editions of Bereisheet.  One of the soldiers asked her if the Tanakh they were using was the same one they used when they studied Bereisheet in school…

Then we can cleverly insinuate allusions to the Mark of Cain, Methusaleh, red heifers and the “Fallen Ones” into every day conversations… and if we are really being audacious, we can then move on to consider Rashi, Tosefot, Rashbam, Maimonides, Nahmanides, Mishnah, Talmud and, yes, even the collected works of Rabbi Pinky Shmeckelstein…  And then, we can really get into a juicy argument about whether programming the PVR to record Curb Your Enthusiasm  is violating an av melakhah or not…

In a world where truthiness trumps facts, it is time we Jews got our Torah facts straight.