By Aryeh Wetherhorn
ELAZAR, Israel — I’m Jewish. It’s a conscious decision on my part. It involves both beliefs and actions. For many others this isn’t the case. Being Jewish is an identity thrust upon them by others, something they cannot control. I was raised with the idea that I am a Jew, but just what that meant was not always clear in post-world war 2 America.
My parents were both born in America. On my father’s side the roots go back to 1849. I have ancestors who fought in the American Civil War. My Great Grandfather was part of the Charleston SC militia that guarded the guns that fired the first shots at Fort Sumter. But the local congregation they belonged to was one of the founding members of American Reform Judaism. My parents observed the minimal parts that the Reform movement required. But they sent me to an Orthodox Hebrew School that met after regular school was out. I hated it. I quit after my Bar Mitzvah. But it left me with some nagging questions about who I was.
I did my own investigating; went to an adult study group on Rambam when I was a junior in High School. I read a lot. I joined the Student Zionist Organization when I went to the University of Michigan; learned Hebrew during a summer between semesters. Truth be told, one of the main reasons for doing all that was to be in the University Hillel sponsored Israeli Dance Group that performed all over the state. It was a major social outlet for me because I had decided in high school I would eventually marry a Jewish girl. That also meant I never dated a non-Jewish girl more than once. It was only when I began tracing my family through genealogy that I discovered relatives who were killed in the Holocaust.
As you know, I live in Israel. I’ve been here more than 40 years. I served in the IDF through two wars and one cross-border raid. I was also a volunteer medic during the six-day war when I was a student at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. I could not join the IDF then because I was still a reserve officer in the US Navy. When I returned to the US at the end of that year I volunteered to return to active duty in the Navy and to return to Vietnam for third time.
I met the most wonderful girl in San Diego. We were married in June 1968. Together we decided our home would be kept Kosher. Being strictly kosher wasn’t a realistic option on a US Navy ship. Some of you know that I was talking with Madeline and said “We will live in Israel after I leave the Navy. Oh, and by the way, Will you marry me?” She agreed. When she was asked, later, about what brought her to Israel, her reply was always “Not what, but who.”
The village where I live, about 11 miles south of Jerusalem, is Modern Orthodox. We went through what we used to describe as ‘creeping orthodoxy’. It’s actually easier to follow Jewish Law here because the whole country has a Jewish majority. I exclude from that majority those that are identified as ‘Ultra Orthodox’. That term does not describe me or my neighbors. One of our reasons for choosing Elazar was that we would not have to worry about our kids eating something that was not kosher at a friend’s house. Everyone in the village observes Shabbat and Kashrut. The Majority of Israelis, especially in the bigger cities, are less stringent about those things.
When we did move to Israel after my volunteer four-year contract expired. I left the navy with a personal Navy Achievement Medal, and 4 Unit Citations awarded to the entire crew of ships I served in. Three were for Vietnam operations and one for being the prime recovery ship for an unmanned Apollo moon shot. I’m certain my contribution played a part in the receipt of these awards. For all that, I was never under hostile fire in Vietnam. That only happened to me in Israel, where people tried to kill me with artillery and small arms fire because I was a Jew.
Obviously, I think Jews should live in Israel. I live here and feel safer than in almost any city in America. That feeling is supported by crime statistics. But I do not feel that every Jew needs to move here. Everyone is free to define his or her own level of religious observance (including atheism or agnosticism). We raised our children to feel they could make their own decisions about this. We also spoke with them at home only in English. We weren’t worried they wouldn’t know Hebrew. We did want to give them a second language that would be useful in the future. For several years we had some children who thought, erroneously, that their mother did not know Hebrew.
For all of you who do not live in Israel, however you may define your own answer to being Jewish, there are important things you need to do. The current wave of antisemitism needs to be opposed. You can do it by electing the right people, by blogging, or by writing, or demonstrating. But please, do not be inactive. You can do whatever you choose. I ask only that you do it in the spirit of the great rabbi Hillel, who said “What is uncomfortable to you, do not do to your neighbor. The rest is commentary, Go and learn.”