How to Be a Good Jew in Our Post-October 7th World
I believe we must recalibrate our Jewish senses and focus on three core tenets that will lead to a stronger, safer, and more enduring Jewish People.
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In his TED talk, philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah referenced an atheist rabbi for the perfect example of how, according to him, you do not need faith to have religion.
There is, he said, “no ‘thing’ called religion.”1 The range of what we call “religion” is so broad that many of its markers have very little in common.
To some people, Appiah’s claims create an identity crisis. As a Jew who has experienced a hot-and-cold relationship with Judaism (as a religion) my entire life, and having lived in Israel since 2013, I can attest that there is no one thing called “being Jewish.”
Regardless, many of us were raised to be “good Jews.” That is our mandate from birth. But if there is no one “thing” that defines a Jew, what makes a “good Jew” then is overwhelmingly ambiguous. Ask around, and I guarantee you that no two Jews will offer the same exact answer.
Even many early modern Zionists dating back to the 1800s grappled with various versions of Zionism and how they envisioned the State of Israel. This ethos is still very much present today, no less after October 7th, as Israelis and Jews across the world are not precisely on the same page about what they want Israel to be and do.
I find all of this arguing and bickering rather pointless and not indicative of who is deemed a “good Jew.” Especially in our post-October 7th world, I believe we must recalibrate our Jewish senses and focus on three core tenets that, if each of us individually pursues, will lead to a stronger, safer, and more enduring Jewish People.
These three core tenets are:
1) To Be Personally Preoccupied With the Question of Jewishness
Israeli philosopher Yirmiyahu Yovel wrote: “To be personally preoccupied with the question of Jewishness — this is a natural and sufficient sign that a person is a Jew.”2 The implication here is one of action, of doing.
When the emphasis is on being Jewish, rather than consistently doing Jewish, of Jewish learning and development, something about Judaism becomes distorted. People who are born Jewish, for example, are viewed or think of themselves as somehow superior, without the prerequisite of continuously learning about Judaism, Jewish history, Jewish culture, the Jewish state, and so on. This seems like a lousy and unfair rationale for building the future of Judaism and the Jewish People.
I prefer the biblical advice: na’aseh v’nishma. (“We will do and we will hear.”) I interpret this to mean, “Do first, understand later,” because during biblical times, the Jewish People promised first to observe the laws of the Torah, and only afterward to study these laws. Hence why Judaism is often said to be a culture of deed rather than of intention. That is, start by doing Jewish, and by doing Jewish, you will understand the value of Judaism, sort of like the legendary Hebrew essayist Ahad Ha’am once said:
“There is in the spirit of our people, something special, even if we do not know what it is, that makes it swerve from the smooth path of other nations.”
Most of us know how compound interest works with money, but do not recognize its power in other areas. When each of us consistently makes small “investments” in the Judaism we care about — culture, religion, lifestyle, history, wisdom, et cetera — the payoff is small, until it becomes immense.
By “investments” I mean systems of Judaism. In its simplest form, a system is an optimized, repeatable pattern to do, to experience, or to complete something. Many of us are using outdated systems, operate on autopilot, and therefore fail to notice just how outdated they are. When you upgrade your systems of Judaism, you upgrade your Judaism and its impact on your life.
To improve and optimize your Jewish systems, consider this three-step process:
(a) Discovery
Always be on the lookout for new systems; they can be found virtually anywhere, such as in books, conferences, videos, podcasts, sermons, communities, films and TV shows, travel, art, and your favorite Jewish influencer’s social media posts.
Implement the new system for a couple of weeks, track it, and decide if it makes a difference or not.
(b) Your Refresh Rate
Your refresh rate is the frequency with which you implement a new Jewish system, or update one that already exists in your life.
Developing habits or activities to keep discovering new systems and updating existing ones will propel your Judaism and Jewishness to keep growing and evolving.
(c) Setting Points and Measurements
Once you have fresh Jewish systems and/or update existing ones, the challenge is maintaining them. Create set points and measurements (i.e. benchmarks, levels of performance) which you do not let yourself slip below.
Jewish systems that I recommend include:
Creating your own version of Shabbat and other Jewish rituals
Learning and speaking modern-day Hebrew
Watching Jewish and Israeli films, TV shows, and documentaries
Ongoing Jewish learning
Acquainting yourself with Jewish leaders, past and present (e.g. Theodor Herzl, Rabbi Noah Weinberg)
2) Minimize Jewish infighting.
Our ability, as the Jewish People, to thrive has not been due to rugged individualism, but connected to culture: our ability to trust each other, cooperate, find creative solutions, and build on the cumulative knowledge of previous generations.
As Charles Darwin said long ago, the most cohesive and cooperative groups generally beat the groups of selfish individualists. Darwin’s ideas about group selection fell out of favor in the 1960s, but recent discoveries are putting his ideas back into play, and the implications are profound.
Being a “good Jew” is challenging because it requires a three-prong approach. The first prong encompasses you, the individual Jew. Here, you make personal Jewish choices according to your interests, preferences, lifestyle, and so forth. This is the easy part.
Then comes the second prong: Jewish groups, such as your family, your Jewish communities, and the Jewish society in which you reside. Here, you have to operate outside of yourself, although you are probably (or at least predominantly) still operating according to your interests, preferences, lifestyle, values, and so forth, since people tend to gravitate to like-minded groups. And there is nothing wrong with that.
Finally comes the third prong: the Jewish world, undoubtedly the most challenging of these three prongs. Here, you recognize that you are part of a historically rich lineage of people formerly called the Israelites and Hebrews, and now known as the Jews.
For this reason, “good Jews” accept the responsibility of looking out for other Jews, present and future. I call this “being a good Jewish ancestor.” But don’t just take it from me; the Talmud says all Jews are responsible for one another. Or literally: “All Jews are guarantors for one another.”
Surely, it can feel unnatural to want to look out for other Jews, especially those who are unlike us (i.e. different religious denomination, geographic location, political beliefs). But if we are being overly critical or judgmental about differing Jews, we are only hurting the Jewish People.
I have found that expanding my definition of “us” and defining the right “them” (our true adversaries) have made me more open-minded about other types and ways of Jews and Jewishness, even if I do not subscribe to their day-to-day mindset and lifestyle.
3) Incessantly Strengthening the Israel-Diaspora Connection
The establishment of the State of Israel reshaped the conditions for Jews in the Diaspora, offering them the chance to maintain their Jewish identity without the constant threat of assimilation. Through Jewish nationalism and the existence of a Jewish state, they could preserve their distinctiveness as Jews while living in other countries.
However, the global Jewish community is far from uniform. Jewish culture is strikingly diverse, encompassing Ashkenazi, Sephardic, Mizrahi, Ethiopian Jews, and others — each contributing unique languages, customs, and traditions to the collective Jewish experience. Conflicts within the community often stem from these cultural differences rather than fundamental opposition to one another.
For example, disputes over religious practices, such as variations in kosher laws or Sabbath observance, tend to be more about safeguarding specific cultural heritages than outright rejection of differing practices.
Jewish diversity is deeply rooted in centuries of Diaspora life, migration, and engagement with a wide array of host cultures. The current tensions within Jewish culture are, in many ways, a continuation of historical debates and adaptations.
Take the Haskalah, or Jewish Enlightenment, of the 18th and 19th centuries as an example. It prompted significant shifts in Jewish life, challenging traditional religious authority and promoting integration into European society. These debates laid the foundation for the broad spectrum of Jewish identities we see today, ranging from secular to ultra-Orthodox.
At the core of what some call Jewish “culture wars” lies the question of identity. What does it mean to be Jewish in our post-October 7th world? For many, Jewish identity transcends religious observance, encompassing cultural practices, historical awareness, social values, and a sense of belonging to a larger Jewish family.
This multifaceted identity can sometimes lead to tensions, especially when different elements of Jewish life appear to clash. Yet, these tensions reflect a vibrant, adaptive culture that continuously redefines itself in response to changing circumstances.
Viewing Jewish “culture wars” through this lens helps recognize them not as signs of destructive division, but as part of an ongoing process of cultural evolution and identity formation. While the debates may be heated at times, they are a testament to the richness and dynamism of Jewish life.
Understanding the nuances of these internal Jewish debates offers a clearer appreciation of the complexities of Jewish identity today, in light of October 7th, which Yossi Klein Halevi of the Shalom Hartman Institute called a turning point, marking “the end of the post-Holocaust era.”3
In his view, the post-Holocaust era was characterized by optimism for the Jewish future. Despite the Holocaust’s horrors, the Jewish People emerged stronger, with Israel becoming a sovereign state and the Diaspora thriving in ways never before seen. These two great centers — Israel and the Diaspora — oversaw a renewal of Jewish life, lifting it from its darkest period to new heights of military, economic, and political strength.
The shift from vulnerability to resilience was swift, and each Jewish community adapted according to its circumstances. In Israel, that meant building military power in a region that sought its destruction. In the Diaspora, it meant excelling in soft power through entrepreneurship, lobbying, philanthropy, and forming alliances in societies that welcomed them.
However, the events of October 7th changed everything. Israel, long seen as a place of Jewish safety, suddenly became one of the most dangerous places for Jews. Israelis and Jews abroad alike describe it as the worst massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. The defenselessness of the victims evokes painful Holocaust imagery.
This new reality is reflected in the resurgence of the slogan, Am Yisrael Chai — “the people of Israel live.” Once a phrase used by Diaspora Jews seeking reassurance after the Holocaust, it has now become a rallying cry in Israel, appearing in public spaces and popular media. This shift symbolizes a new sense of vulnerability.
For Jews in the Diaspora, the promise of the post-Holocaust era was that antisemitism would diminish, with humanity too ashamed to perpetuate it. But in reality, antisemitism never truly disappeared. From the Arab world’s attempt to annihilate the young Jewish state, to the Soviet Union’s thinly veiled antisemitism under the guise of “anti-Zionism,” Jews have remained targets.
Recent years have seen a resurgence of this danger. Synagogues now require round-the-clock security, and universities, media outlets, and social movements have been engulfed by “anti-Zionist” ideologies that threaten Jews’ safety and well-being.
Since October 7th, “anti-Zionism” has become a more direct threat, especially in the Diaspora. More than a third of Jewish students on Western campuses report feeling the need to hide their Jewish identity.
In Israel, those born after the 1973 Yom Kippur War had not experienced such an existential threat — until now. A recent survey found that a quarter of Israelis have considered leaving the country since October 7th.
For the first time, Jews in Israel and the Diaspora are sharing a profound sense of vulnerability. Whereas once the Diaspora offered support to Israel during times of conflict, now many Diaspora Jews are equally worried about their own future. And Israelis are beginning to show a deeper concern for the fate of Diaspora Jews, seeing them as an integral part of the Jewish People.
“Kwame Anthony Appiah: Is religion good or bad? (This is a trick question).” TED.
Jobani, Yuval. “The Lure of Heresy: A Philosophical Typology of Hebrew Secularism in the First Half of the Twentieth Century.” Journal of Jewish Thought and Philosophy, Tel Aviv University. 2016.
“The end of the post-Holocaust era.” Times of Israel.
Also don’t presume that Christians that support Israel are part of some warped evangelical cabal. I personally view Israel as an indispensable country and I am not particularly religious or Jewish. It is now the frontline of saving Western civilization.
I think a good Jew is one who doesn’t want to see his fellow Jews dead. I think, stick with that. Go from there.
I also think that the more one identifies as Jewish the less they get stuck on our differences. If you’re Jewish to your bones, you understand that politics, and whatever else, is window dressing. We are all one.