The Subtle Art of Embracing Contradictions
Israel and the Jewish world are filled with contradictions, which is perfectly okay. Holding space for opposites allows us to embrace the complexity of our human experience.
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Meet Richard and Danielle.
They married approximately 20 years ago, each with three children from a previous relationship. Danielle converted to Judaism for Richard, a British Jew who moved to Israel at age 18 and served in the Israel Defense Forces during the 1973 Yom Kippur War.
During the decade or so, Richard has been very sick, in and out of the hospital with all types of serious, life-threatening ailments. Danielle became his de facto caretaker as his condition exponentially worsened.
As a child, Richard suffered physical and verbal abuse from his mother, and he let this trauma remain unresolved in adulthood. In fact, he treated his romantic partners like his mother — using his increasing wealth to charm them while expecting them to do things that his actual mother never did for him.
Turns out, this is common (albeit unhealthy) in many romantic relationships, known as the parent-child transaction, where one partner assumes the “parental” role and the other the “child” role.1
During a recent hospitalization, the doctor instructed Richard to check in to an assisted living facility, which he did. But he wanted to go home and be with Danielle, even though she also also thought it would be best for him stay at the assisted living facility since she was too stressed out from all the years of being his de facto caregiver.
Richard kept pleading with Danielle to let him come home (to the house that he bought them), yet Danielle would not relent. Suddenly, Danielle became the “angry mother” which triggered Richard, likely because of his childhood experiences. This led to Richard’s irate, disrespectful outbursts directed at Danielle, making her even more stressed. Then, Danielle came down with cancer.
I am telling you this story because it is a microcosm for life. I am sure that, like me, you can empathize with both Richard and Danielle. Why, then, do so many of us feel the need to take sides in so many aspects of our lives?
Take, for example, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. So many people overly empathize with one side over the other. They harp about the “women and children” in Gaza while seeming to forget that there are also women and children in Israel. They emphasize Israel’s response in Gaza yet make little mention of the folks who started this war on October 7th.
Here’s another example: religious Jews versus non-religious Jews. Many on both sides tend to look down on the other, as if their variation of Judaism is superior. I call this “Jew-on-Jew hate.”
We might not be killing each other, but today’s Jews are standing on increasingly uncommon ground, so much so that many of us are beginning to vehemently disagree about what the heck Judaism is, why it matters, what it stands for, to which areas we should allocate more resources, who is and is not considered a Jew, and how vastly we should expand our so-called tent.
Micah Goodman, author of “The Wondering Jew,” uttered the inconvenient truth:
“All Jews are welcome, but their preferred form of Judaism might not be.”
If you, like me, wonder why basic Jewish unity does not seem to exist these days, I believe it is because so many of us have become God’s partners in prosecution, arm-chair judges who are so quick to condemn others’ Judaism.
We label, assume, and criticize based on face value and vanity, at the expense of channeling genuine curiosity to seek nuance, context, background, and depth. We have become so seduced by our own mildly informed opinions and intoxicating echo chambers that we become blinded to and uninterested in any Jew that does not perfectly fit into our Jewish worldviews, political persuasions, and more.
It all feels plainly unproductive. I personally believe there is plenty of space for many types of Jews, especially those unlike me.
Another trend I have noticed: Many people assume that because they are of certain sociopolitical viewpoints in their home country, they must also be the same in, for example, Israel.
Before moving from the U.S. to Israel in 2013, I was largely liberal and voted Democrat in 2008 (upon turning 18) and 2012. But as I assimilated into Israeli society, I quickly realized that sociopolitical realities were far different than what they are in the United States. Suddenly I found myself preferring more center-Right policies in Israel, predominantly based on the Jewish state’s obvious and pressing need for security.
My sociopolitical viewpoints did not necessarily change in the U.S. — I voted Democrat again in 2016 — because I learned that Israel and the U.S. are two completely different countries with two completely different sets of histories and circumstances. Applying my American political rationale to Israel just did not make any sense.
Side note: Many Diaspora Jews contend that they firmly stand by the Jewish state’s obvious and pressing need for security, but that they just “can’t” support the Right-wing Israeli settlers (the vast majority of whom are totally peaceful).
What they don’t realize is that many Israelis support the settlers not because of ideology, but because of practicality and reality. The settlements have never historically been an impediment to peace, and until peace exists, at least some of the settlements serve as a legitimate security barrier against Palestinian attacks emanating out of Judea and Samaria (also known as the West Bank).
With that said, there are certain situations where we must “take sides” — for instance, at the ballot box. You can only vote for one political party or another, after all. But in these situations, I have found for myself that the key is to compartmentalize, a complex psychological mechanism whereby an individual separates conflicting thoughts, feelings, or behaviors into distinct sections of their mind, preventing them from affecting one another.
For example, I can vote for X political party and still be friends with and respect those who vote for another political party. I compartmentalize not because I force myself to do so, but because I accept that each person has their own life experiences which dictate how they make various decisions.
The point is: Life is often a series of contradictions and paradoxes. We find ourselves torn between conflicting emotions, beliefs, and choices. I have learned that holding space for two opposing things is an art that requires emotional intelligence, empathy, and an open mind. In turn, it has led to much personal growth, deeper relationships, and a more nuanced understanding of the world.
Holding space is a term often used in therapeutic and spiritual contexts. It means being present and supportive for someone else, without judgment or the need to fix their problems. When we extend this concept to ourselves, it involves embracing and accepting our own conflicting feelings and thoughts.
For instance, we might feel excitement and fear about a new job, love and frustration towards a partner, or hope and despair about a personal project. Holding space for these opposing feelings means acknowledging both as valid and allowing them to coexist without forcing a resolution.
Cognitive dissonance is the mental discomfort we experience when we hold two or more contradictory beliefs, values, or attitudes. This discomfort can be unsettling and may lead us to avoid or suppress conflicting thoughts and feelings. However, recognizing and embracing cognitive dissonance is a crucial step in holding space for opposites.
While it can be challenging to navigate cognitive dissonance, fear of uncertainty, and social conditioning, the rewards are profound. In a world that often demands certainty and quick-hitting answers, the ability to hold space for opposites allows us to embrace the complexity of our human experience.
It teaches us that we can feel joy and sorrow, love and frustration, hope and despair — all at the same time. And in this acceptance, we find a deeper, more authentic connection with ourselves and others.
I appreciate your article and its intention. I say that because as a "gentile" it seems a little awkward to comment at all. And I hate saying what I'm about to say, because it will seem as a cheap way to make myself look good (so I'm hoping only you, the author reads this) but I do support several Jewish humanitarian organizations. (I do this because talk is so cheap...as they say, "Put your money where your mouth is!")
Anyway, oddly enough, I could rewrite your article by inserting various "christian" organizations and denominations as well. Each one thinks they are the chosen ones and often the dialogue can be quite judgemental.
And I say that as a committed follower of Yeshua HaMashiach (Jesus the Messiah).
I am not here to "convert" anyone but to simply say that while I believe Israel is God's chosen Land for His people, it may get even more confusing and more dangerous before this era ends. We've all witnessed prophecies coming true with the establishment of Israel as a nation. But, I am reminded of that saying "it gets the darkest right before dawn."
"Bahruch ahta Adonai, Ehlohaynu mehlech haolam"
Blessed are you Adonai, King of the Universe
Shalom
Beautifully said, Joshua and you cited so many genuine examples. The political climate has fostered and encouraged much of these contradictions. Of course, there have been differences in all the examples you have given, but never more so than what we are witnessing today. As long as the rhetoric remains, these contradictions will become even more so. Your point on political differences in the US and Israel was so insightful, especially using your own experience after moving to Israel. This article gave me a lot to think about, take apart, and look inward.