Prof. Sam Lehman-Wilzig: Israel’s “Semi-Religious” Population
You’ve probably never seen something like this anywhere else in the world: Israeli boys and men walking around bareheaded without a kippah (skullcap), but with their tzitzis (ritual fringes) hanging out from their shirt. That’s a real anomaly: tzitzis, yes, but kippah, no!
And this isn’t a rare sighting in Israel but rather quite commonplace – even if dumbfounding in its contradictory religiosity. So what exactly is going on here? It’s actually the tip of an interesting social iceberg.
As is well known, during the past three years Israel has undergone dramatic schisms (e.g., judicial reform controversy) and traumatic events (the war in Gaza and then Iranian attacks) leaving deep scars in the national psyche. Perhaps not surprisingly, this has led to a noticeable shift in Israel’s religious and spiritual landscape as more Israelis are turning to religious traditions, although not in any traditionally holistic fashion.
When faced with national trauma many people will turn to whatever provides a sense of personal comfort, larger meaning, and social unity – clearly, religious ritual fits part of that bill. However, as this is not really deep-rooted religious belief but rather a sort of socio-cultural tradition, there’s lots of picking and choosing as to what specifically to follow and emphasize.
And it turns out that there’s a wide variety of such “back-to-religion” practices and symbolic activity. A recent Jewish People Policy Institute (JPPI) survey found that “a quarter (27%) of respondents report an increase in observing religious customs. This trend is even more pronounced among Jewish youth 25 and under: one-third (33%) say they observe more traditions than in the past” (https://jppi.org.il/en/%D7%93%D7%95%D7%97-%D7%9E%D7%99%D7%95%D7%97%D7%93-%D7%A9%D7%9C-jppi-%D7%A2%D7%9C%D7%99%D7%94-%D7%91%D7%A9%D7%9E%D7%99%D7%A8%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%9E%D7%A1%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%AA-%D7%95%D7%91%D7%A7%D7%99%D7%95/).
Moreover, media news items and local religious leaders have reported a 30% increase in synagogue attendance; Torah study groups are flourishing; digital platforms were filled with calls for reciting Psalms (Tehillim) for the safety of soldiers and civilians (prayers that continue today due to the amount of PTSD found among Israeli combatants and citizens who had to evacuate from home for lengthy periods); similarly, many synagogues have added weekly recitations of three prayers: “For the Welfare of the State of Israel,” “For the Welfare of IDF Soldiers,” and (until recently) “For the Return of Living Hostages and Abducted Bodies”; indeed, even some secular kibbutzim have set up their own synagogues; WhatsApp groups and social media campaigns have mobilized myriad Israelis to light Shabbat candles; grassroots movements are organizing communal Shabbat dinners, with religious and secular Jews gathering together for traditional meals, singing songs, and reflecting on Jewish values; and many have started observing other assorted commandments – all as acts of symbolic solidarity with the Jewish past, the Israeli present, and hope for the country’s continued future.
Even more widespread in practice is the religious tradition emphasizing charity (tzedakah). The war seems to have sparked a big surge in giving. Organizations are reporting record-breaking donations to support soldiers, victims’ kin, and displaced families, in large part motivated by Jewish values.
Perhaps most noticeable is observance of kashrut (Jewish food practice and accompanying restrictions). Although it has never been a problem to find kosher food or restaurants in Israel, the latter (as well as kosher catering businesses) have reported an increase in demand. That’s as tangible (and tasty) a way as possible to connect with the Jewish heritage!
Which is precisely the point. One could be cynical and call this “Judaism Light” or “Semi-Religiousity” – but there’s a reason that these new (or reinvigorated) “adherents” set limits to their newfound religious practice. On the one hand, full observance of all the commandments is a daunting exercise – remembering them all, not to mention in practice i.e., almost every hour doing something that’s prescribed (or not doing other things that are proscribed). On the other hand, a large part of Israeli society is turned off by what it views as “hadatah” – creeping religiosity infiltrating all walks of life (e.g., gender separation, political extremism). This can be understood as a reaction against Haredi “ownership” of official Israeli Judaism, returning to a more “Mizrahi” (Jewish Middle Eastern) style of greater religious flexibility and toleration.
The result is a very selective, renewed Jewish practice that isn’t overly onerous. It isn’t particularly hard to wear tzitzis most of the day; it’s a lot more time-consuming to attend synagogue services three times every day; for these “religiously strengthened” individuals, once a week on Sabbath is plenty.
Is this comprehensive “Jewish Light” syndrome a function of ignorance? Given how complex and comprehensive is Jewish Law (halakha), one could be forgiven for not understanding the ins and outs of religious practice. The “tzitzis, yes/kippa, no” phenomenon would seem to be a case in point. It’s not. Here’s one piece of evidence.
My wife Tami volunteers in a completely secular high school, doing conversational English with older teenagers. A few weeks ago, she mentioned to them that the kippa/tzitzis thing seemed very strange. To which most of them immediately replied: “Why? Wearing tzitzis is commanded in the Torah; there’s no mention of wearing a head covering anywhere in the Bible.” She was doubly taken aback. First, because their answer was correct. Second (and more relevant to my point here), because these totally secular kids knew the Jewish law answer! Then one student added an even more amazing punchline that sums it all up: “that’s called dati le’daati” – being religious according to my own opinion!
Of course, it remains to be seen whether this wave of personal, religious traditionalism will last. Most probably, some will maintain their new practices whereas others could revert to previous non-religious routines. Yet, the wide array of the above religious tradition-based experiences might well leave a lasting impression on Israeli society, especially among Israel’s youth now exposed to new forms of religious expression.
Meanwhile, as Israelis reflect on its recent traumatic journey, it is doing what many other nations have done before in times of crisis: digging deeper into faith and tradition to offer comfort and a sense of continuity.
