Vampire Weekend's Surprising Jewish Stories
5 min read
Which team are you rooting for? Why?
I haven’t lived in Toronto for decades and was never a fan of major sport leagues, but I was genuinely excited when the Toronto Maple Leafs beat their 19-year curse and won their NHL playoff series against Tampa Bay Lightning with a thrilling overtime goal.
I texted “Mazel tov!” to my brother and brother-in-law in Toronto, who are both avid Maple Leaf fans.
The city erupted. Like this:
Maple Leaf fans celebrating in downtown Toronto
And for a moment, far away in Jerusalem, I was swept up with the elation. My reaction caught me by surprise. Why was I so excited that a group of hockey players, none of whom I knew by name, on the other side of the world, finally won a playoff series? What did it have to do with me?
Henri Tajfel, a 1970s social psychologist, came up with Social Identity Theory that helps explain this phenomenon. Part of our self-esteem and identity comes from the larger groups to which we belong and with whom we identify. This could be your family, your alma mater, your nationality – or the hockey team of your city.
You wear their merch, watch their games, and you may even use the word “we” when talking about them. Their win is your win. Their success is a boost to your esteem. “We won!!” even though you didn’t play for a second and don’t even know how to skate.
There’s still a thread that connects me to Toronto, enough to feel that their victory after 19 years of losing deserves a hearty mazel tov. But my kids couldn’t care less.
What I discovered with the Leafs winning is that although I left Toronto a long time ago and have built my life in Israel, Toronto hasn’t fully left me. There is still a small, minute part, a thread that connects me to my birthplace, enough for me to feel that their victory after 19 years of losing deserves a hearty mazel tov.
But my kids, who have been born and raised in Jerusalem and never heard of the Maple Leafs, couldn’t care less about their win. I didn’t instill my tenuous connection to Toronto in my children.
And this disconnect spells trouble for the Jewish people.
Why?
It wasn’t all that long ago that Jews across the globe identified with Israel. Even though they never lived in Israel or had never even visited, Israel’s victory was their victory. Their team won.
This kind of connection actually saved the Jews who left Egypt. The Jews were totally assimilated, on the verge of completely losing their identity. The Midrash says that in the merit of three things our forefathers left Egypt: they didn’t change their clothes, their names, or their language. They were no longer circumcised, they worshipped idols, but they spoke Hebrew, kept their Jewish names and continued to wear clothing that identified them as Jews.
How could they have assimilated to such a degree but still kept their unique names, language, and clothing? What made them cling to that? Rabbi Noah Weinberg gave the following answer.
In 1977, during the height of the Cold War, when the Soviet Union was boycotting Israel, the Maccabi Tel Aviv basketball team was playing against CSKA Moscow, the team of the Red Army, in the European Cup semi-finals. The Russians refused to play in Tel Aviv and they also refused to grant visas to Israelis to play in Moscow. In the end they compromised and played in a small town in Belgium. It was an emotionally charged game, infused with symbolic meaning.
Russian Jews in the Soviet Union who had never been to Israel and knew next to nothing about Judaism found themselves rooting for the Israeli team.
While Israelis were glued to their television sets watching the pivotal game, Russian Jews in the Soviet Union who had never been to Israel and knew next to nothing about Judaism found themselves rooting for the Israeli team as well. They could not read Hebrew, but they identified with the Israeli team as being "our team."
The Soviet dissidents had risked their lives to learn Torah and study Hebrew. Russian Jews proudly identified with the Israelis who represented their people. They were rooting for their team – the Israelis. (Maccabi Tel Aviv beat the heavily favored and mighty Soviets 91-79.)
Most didn’t have the comprehensive Jewish education to understand what it really meant to be Jewish, but they knew they were Jewish, they knew that Jews had returned to their homeland and built a country against all odds, and they were proud of it. Holding on to that tenuous pride compelled many Jews to explore what it meant to be Jewish.
Similarly, the Jews in Egypt were on the brink of extinction. But they identified as Jews, keeping their names, their clothing, and their language. Bedecked in their kippahs, Shmulik and Izzy conversed in Hebrew as they watched the Egyptian Olympics.
Building upon their rather weak identity, both the Jews in Egypt and those of the Soviet Union took action to fan the embers of their connection into a small flame.
Without being proactive, that slight connection is not sustainable. It can’t be carried forward. Would you root for a foreign hockey team playing in a European league that you never heard of? That’s how my kids view the Leafs.
A generation ago, many Jews from all backgrounds felt connected to Israel, enough to identify and root for them. For some, Israel made their Judaism come to life. Today, Israel is largely out of the equation. That fragile bond is at risk; for many it’s non-existent, for some it’s even repellent.
That creates a vacuum. The only way it can be filled and thereby slow the slouching towards assimilation is to be proactive in creating a nourishing and meaningful connection to Judaism which will stand the test of time.
