About 3,300 years ago, a tiny, beleaguered group of nomads became the trustees of a set of revolutionary ideas that, unbeknownst to them, would one day change the world. Unlike their neighbors, who understood nature as the capricious expressions of a pantheon of anthropomorphic gods, this small band of Semites insisted that the entire universe was governed by a unified system of laws that derived from the will of a single, benevolent and transcendent creator. Moreover, this nascent nation rejected magic, divination and superstition as valid means of religious worship; refused to bow down to any object or human being; and embraced the pursuit of wisdom, justice and mercy as the ultimate spiritual values.
The possession of these remarkable concepts was not simply a privilege; it was a moral responsibility of the highest order. Like their forefather Abraham, who left his birthplace to spread monotheism throughout the ancient Near East, the Jewish people were charged with the mission of sharing their newfound insights with the entire human race. It is in this sense that they are a “Chosen People”: They were selected as God’s ambassadors to every nation on Earth, to enlighten, to educate and to challenge mankind with their innovative and provocative philosophical message.
Our objective as the Chosen People is no less relevant or urgent in modern times than it was in antiquity. Although the task is daunting, the goal of universal peace and harmony is worth whatever sacrifices it may demand from us.
Rabbi Joshua Maroof
Magen David Sephardic Congregation
Rockville, MD
Lubavitch Hasidism
Many Jews feel extremely uncomfortable with the concept of “Chosen People.” To suggest that we are somehow closer to God than other nations smacks of arrogance, elitism and racial prejudice. Yet these very feelings of discomfort could come only from a people chosen by God.
In the Jewish understanding, chosenness leads not to arrogance but to humility. A relationship with God bursts your arrogant bubble because all delusions of petty self-importance fall away when you stand before infinity. Being close with God demands never-ending introspection and self-improvement.
This is the idea of the Chosen People—a nation of individuals who have been given the opportunity to sense God’s closeness, hear His truth and relay His message to the world. All agree that it was the Jews who introduced the world to monotheism and to a system of ethics and morals that has shaped the modern view of life. The survival of Judaism attests to the eternal value of this system.
To call this ethnocentric is absurd for one simple reason: Anyone from any ethnic background can convert to Judaism and become chosen, as long as he or she is ready to have his or her bubble burst. Jewish chosenness is not a gene; it is a state of the soul.
Rabbi Yosef Y. Jacobson
Rabbinical College Chovevi Torah
Brooklyn, NY
Modern Orthodox
Jews are a Chosen People. That means we have (repeatedly) experienced God’s love, which singles out our dignity and uniqueness.
While God’s love is not conditional, we were selected for a mission to, as God said to Abraham, “instruct His children and family after him to observe the way of justice and righteousness…” This became a source of blessing for the world. By connecting people to God, Jews served as teachers, continuing to work with other groups for tikkun olam.
In modern times, some object to the concept of chosenness because it implies the inferiority of the Other. I would say instead, that Jews are special, but we are not the only Chosen People.
Chosenness actually upholds the principle of equality by removing its downside. In any attempt to achieve equality, there is a great danger of homogenization and collectivism. Chosenness says all are equal but we are chosen to play a distinctive role. Thus Jews may be called to Judaism and a different witness, while Christians may be called to Christianity to give their distinctive testimony. “Together, peoples and faiths can contribute—equally but differently—to tikkun olam. Chosenness upholds that we are God’s messengers—if you will, on a mission from God—but that “God has many messengers.”
Rabbi Irving Greenberg
President, Jewish Life Network
Steinhardt Foundation
New York, NY
Conservative
As a Conservative Jew, a day does not pass that I do not wrestle with my belief in the chosenness of Israel. Being chosen is primarily a responsibility. It doesn’t entitle me to special rights; it obligates me to acknowledge my unique role in the world. Being chosen is an opportunity to live a unique life and to teach others by word and deed.
As a member of an interfaith council, I am aware that other people of faith see themselves as chosen. I’m humbled by their spirituality and by the good work they do in the service of God. Is that any different from how I see myself as a Jew?
I believe that God is big enough to challenge each of us to live a chosen life. Jews are not alone as recipients of God’s love. Did God choose Israel or did Israel choose God? I leave that question to the theologians. Has chosenness been used as an excuse for Jewish chauvinism? Unfortunately, it has. But that does not make it any less significant in defining how we see our place in the world. Chosenness is a challenge. It does not make me better, only different.
Rabbi Mark Greenspan
Oceanside Jewish Center
Oceanside, NY
Reform
In 1964, renowned Jewish philosopher Martin Buber said of chosenness, “In imitating God by being a holy nation, Israel must not withdraw from the world of the nations but rather radiate a positive influence on them through every aspect of Jewish living.”
Through pursuing justice in all that we do, we come “closer to fulfilling the prophetic call to translate the words of Torah into the works of our hands.” This is what it means to be chosen.
Rabbi Toby H.Manewith
Temple Micah
Washington, DC
Reconstructionist
Reconstructionist founder Mordecai Kaplan, who offered the first loving internal critique of chosenness, rejected such popular nuances as “chosen to serve.” Plainly, our tradition is problematic. Consider, for instance,, the havdalah blessing, which links Jews to holiness, light and Shabbat—while associating “the nations” with the ordinary, weekdays and darkness. Here’s why we should not consider ourselves Am Nivchar, the Chosen People:
Religious naturalists who see God more as a Process or Force than an interventionist Being, say that choosing isn’t in God’s nature. If God could choose, would S/He?
The stories of Jacob and Joseph teach us not to privilege one child over others—should not the Parent of Parents follow this advice?!
Even if God had chosen us, it’s both good practice and common sense to avoid touting the fact!
Feminist theologian Judith Plaskow adds that the danger of external hierarchies like Jews-over-others implicitly justifies internal hierarchies like men-over-women.
We condemned narrow Christian thought that replaced Israel with the Church, then celebrated when the Vatican changed that. We fear extremist tendencies within any faith (not just Islam), when one subset of humanity claims a “better” relationship with God. We of all people can, and should, model a more inclusive way.
So tradition needed reconstruction; our liturgy uniquely removes invidious comparisons between Jews and others. But if not chosenness, then what? Kaplan suggests “vocation,” a special relationship by our own choice, rather than “election” by God—being proud of our own identity and choices, period. Let’s celebrate choosing, not being the Chosen People.
Rabbi Fred Scherlinder Dobb
Adat Shalom Reconstructionist Congregation Bethesda, MD
Renewal
Growing up in a small city with few Jews, I was often the victim of anti-Semitic taunts. In response, my elders introduced me to the palliative that we Jews are superior since we were chosen by God. For what? I used to wonder. To suffer? As a student in the 1960s, historical reflection and philosophical analysis challenged my early training. The ascendancy of the civil-rights movement—and its mantra that all people are equal in earthly law and the eyes of God—were, for me, the final nails in the coffin of chosenness.
At an ecumenical gathering in 1968, Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach asserted that we were all on the same path to the One, just wearing different shoes. “Yes!” I thought.
When chosenness implied that only Jews possessed the Truth and all other beliefs were wrong, I had no choice but to reject the idea. However, when I encountered the special, more-encompassing teachings, I could embrace the notion of being chosen.
Those “chosen ones” carefully guarded and transmitted wisdom from which I now benefit. So, too, the Children of Israel were “chosen”as guardians of Torah, our share of the sacred wisdom that sources all of Creation. I celebrate and acknowledge this paradigm shift by replacing asherbachar banu mi-kol ha’amim (who has chosen us from all other peoples) to im kol ha’amim (who has chosen us along with all other peoples).
Rabbi Victor Gross
Co-Rabbi Pardes Levavot
Boulder, CO
Independent
We never claimed to the world to be the chosen people; we claimed it to ourselves. It’s not our fault that our personal diary was wrested from us and published all over the world.
Throughout the Tanakh we are reminded again and again that we are not the Chosen People, but a Chosen People. In the Book of Isaiah, we find: “In that day shall Israel be third alongside Egypt and Assyria, as a blessing on earth.”
The philosopher Martin Buber places us in a context of nomadic seekers: “As a historical people, Israel enjoys no precedence over any other. Like Israel, the other peoples were all wanderers and settlers; they came ‘up’ from a land of want and servitude into their present homeland. The one God, the Redeemer and Leader of the peoples, strode before all of them upon their way.” It is not unlike a mother who writes six letters to her six children, and in each letter writes, “You are my favorite!”
Nevertheless, many of us wrongly consider ourselves the Chosen People. Because we had been persecuted for so long, our religious teachers impressed upon us how special we were to God as oppressed people sorely need to hear that they are important, the highest of the high—chosen. We are different from most, yes. But we are not more important to God.
Rabbi Gershon Winkler
The Walking Stick Foundation
Cuba, NM
Humanism
One of my favorite rabbinic stories describes how God had shopped around the Ten Commandments to various peoples only to be spurned by all. When he finally came to the Hebrews, God wasn’t in the mood for rejection, and He made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. He lifted Mount Sinai over their heads and said, essentially, either you take the law or I drop the mountain on you.
So much for being “chosen.” According to this tale, we were really the People of Last Resort and hapless recruits, “volunteered” for an unwanted, dangerous assignment, without any say in the matter.
Over time, this “privilege” of being chosen has led to smug superiority and arrogant chauvinism. However, as Maimonides taught, there is nothing inherently special about the Jewish people. Their distinction is earned, not innate. Ever since the Enlightenment, most Jews have recognized that we are part of one world people. Rather than chosen, we have become, if anything, a people that chooses: We choose how much time to invest in our Jewish identity, deciding, for example, whether to pray three times a day or three days a year or not at all. For myself, I chose, against all predictions, to enter the rabbinate. Later, I made an intellectual shift and chose to embrace Humanistic Judaism. Both were about living a life of integrity, purpose and choice, not blind obedience to inherited tradition or dictate. This is how I continue to choose to be a Jew.
Rabbi Peter H. Schweitzer
The City Congregation for Humanistic Judaism
New York, NY
