I sat in synagogue this past Yom Kippur perplexed by the odd state of affairs in the American Jewish world today. As my 15-year old daughter sang with the High Holy Days choir, I thought about how much more complicated the practice of our faith has become for my daughter’s generation in our tolerant, assimilated society.
I heard the voice of my beloved mother telling me as a child, “However you choose to practice our faith, you will at the very least stay home on major Jewish holidays so that Jewish children are not put in the position where Gentiles can say, ‘If [Michael] can go to school [or work] why can’t those other Jews?’”
Over the past week, some noted and some not so noted Jewish athletes of my daughter’s generation were put on the front lines of a battle facing the Jewish community throughout the nation.
In professional major and minor league and collegiate sports Jewish athletes were facing a daunting decision: How do I approach my participation during these religious days of obligation?
Often these athletes are not observant Jews. Rather they refer to themselves as “cultural Jews.” Still, they understand that much like athletes from other minority groups, they are heroes and role models for many Jewish boys and girls (and many moms and dads, too).
For some of these athletes, the press raised the religious tension immediately. Will you play on Yom Kippur? (Rosh HaShanah gets some attention as well.)
The drama builds as the athletes wrestle with the obligations they learned as children, the expectations of their teammates (who don’t quite get it) and their recognition about how this will affect the Jewish community in general.
They are quickly reminded of the most famous stories: Hank Greenberg refusing to play in a vital game on Yom Kippur and the anti-Semitic slurs and death threats he received; Sandy Koufax refusing to play in the first game of the world series when it fell on Yom Kippur.
Every year an army of Jewish athletes from middle school swimmers to baseball stars face this dilemma with far less notoriety.
Community evolved
Over the past 70 years, the non-Jewish community has evolved significantly in its acceptance and respect for the need for Jewish athletes to address this conflict.
Due to the overwhelming integration of the Jewish community into the fabric of American society and the recent revival of public expression of religious beliefs and practices, non-Jews have become tolerant, if not welcoming, of religious observance by religious minorities.
Locally, Matt Bernstein, fullback for the University of Wisconsin Badgers, spoke about his deep appreciation for his coaches who told him to follow his faith by doing whatever he thought was necessary to fulfill his religious obligation.
The Los Angeles Dodgers made it clear that, whatever Shawn Green decided to do in practicing his faith they would accept, understand and support him even though he is one of the Dodgers’ best players and the Dodgers were playing the San Francisco Giants in a tight pennant race.
The North Shore high school football conference in Milwaukee, aware of a critical mass of Jewish students at some of their schools, permitted the Whitefish Bay, Nicolet and Homestead high school football teams to play on a day other than Yom Kippur.
Matt Bernstein fasted from before sundown on Friday night until just before the 4:45 p.m. UW-Penn State game and did not warm up with the team. Despite this handicap his outstanding ball carrying very likely saved the day for UW.
Shawn Green decided to “split the baby” and played Friday night (winning the game with a two run home run) and neither played nor attended the game on Saturday (the Dodgers lost).
Theo Epstein, the general manager of the Red Sox, and the two Jewish Red Sox players chose to attend (and play) in the games on Yom Kippur.
All these athletes said they were comfortable with their decisions. Many other athletes, far removed from the media spotlight, faced their decisions in quiet, reflective contemplation, making their decisions with themselves and their communities.
Oddly, in the midst of the Yom Kippur discussions, an article appeared in the Los Angeles Times last week that raised the concern that younger (“Generation X”) American Jews were far less involved in Jewish philanthropies and other Jewish communal organizations than their parents generation. The article raised the specter of a declining sense of community among younger Jewish Americans.
I thought about my mother and her admonition. How do we explain to the non-Jewish community the significance of the Days of Awe? How do we explain it to ourselves? And are the dilemmas of the Jewish athletes and the Jewish community in general intertwined?
It is inherent in the nature of America that each generation attempts to find its place in the evolving marketplace of ideas and values. The right of individual thought and belief joins with the freedom to assimilate to bring inexorable and substantial change to Jewish religious and communal relationships.
The parental generation stands before its children like Tevye asking the question: How much can I take before this reed breaks? It is a harrowing test however one observes our faith — just read the works of I. B. Singer and Nathan Englander.
As we rush to identify with the successes of our children — the “Jewish” scholars, athletes, artists, writers and professionals who receive acclaim — we need to accept the diversity of the community that develops these heroes.
Can I accept the reported religious practices of Theo Epstein and the Red Sox players or the more attentive but incomplete practices of Matt Bernstein and Shawn Green? In truth, it is not for me to judge.
Rather, I reaffirmed the essential value to the Jewish community of a “big tent” for all Jews as my daughter prayed for us all in the synagogue choir.
Michael P. Waxman is professor of law at Marquette University Law School and of counsel to the Milwaukee law firm of Godfrey & Kahn, S.C. He is also first vice-president of the Milwaukee Jewish Council for Community Relations and a board member of Congregation Sinai.
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