When this war is over, our devastated border communities are rehabilitated, and everyone’s back living securely in their homes, we will have much to discuss. One important issue will be the place of Judaism in Israeli society.
It’s divisive. There are huge disagreements over public transportation on Shabbat, banning hametz in the hospitals, and the establishment of synagogues in the streets of Tel Aviv. While some take pride in a more assertive Israeli Judaism, others feel increasingly alienated from our traditions. Perhaps the experience of 20 Israeli children evacuated to England with their families can point us toward a better way.
The children came from avowedly secular homes. Under normal circumstances, they would never have set foot in an Orthodox Jewish school, but with the trauma of the war and the rise of antisemitism, their parents felt that they would benefit from being among other Jewish children in London. So these young Israelis were enrolled at the Naima Jewish Preparatory School.
It was a recipe for disaster: Children from atheist homes with secular lifestyles were plunged into a school dedicated to educating them to be “constantly aware of the presence of God in their daily lives.” Yet these pupils loved their experience. Parents and children returned to Israel with a newfound affection for their Jewish heritage and a warmer opinion of their religious neighbors.
The vision of Rabbi Abraham Levy, Britain's Sephardi Jewish leader
Behind the magic of the Naima school lies the vision of the longstanding leader of Britain’s Sephardi community, Rabbi Dr. Abraham Levy OBE, whose first yahrzeit, we will mark this week. This was a rabbi with a unique brand of tolerant, compassionate Orthodoxy, who was as comfortable addressing kings and queens from his pulpit as he was sitting on the floor with young children discussing faith.
Levy’s approach is brilliantly summed up in a metaphor given by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. Years ago, travel was burdensome because wherever we went, we had to lug our heavy suitcases with us. Then someone came up with the idea of putting wheels on the bottom of the cases, so we could push our baggage with ease. Sacks suggested that this is the task of rabbis – to teach halachic Judaism in ways that people can carry with joy. Levy personified this vision. He pursued every pathway to make Judaism accessible, pleasant, and free from strife.
LEVY SHARED shared the secularists’ aversion to religious coercion. In his school, he could have instituted many rules about religious observance and in particular the wearing of tzitzit, but he would not do it. He contended that if these things were school rules, then the parents and children would see them as annoying regulations to be cast off at the school gates. “Better,” he said, “to keep these things voluntary, giving the children the opportunity to adopt our traditions out of love.”
What Levy taught in the context of his community, he believed to be true of Israel as well. He was an admirer of our great Sephardi rabbis and scholars. He respected their deep learning and frequently hosted them in his home. But he was no fan of political parties passing legislation in the Knesset to fund their community’s activities and to foist Jewish observance on everyone else. He felt that this would distance people from Judaism. “Their aim of creating a more religious society is noble,” he once told me, “but they are trying to build heaven on Earth, and it will never work.”
Rabbi Levy felt that the desire for rabbinic power emerged from skewed priorities, which did not give enough weight to Judaism’s moral laws. In his memoir, A Rocky Road, he relates how rabbis would approach him about potential marriage partners, asking penetrating questions about the bride or groom’s level of ritual observance, but rarely did they pose a single question about the person’s integrity and decency. For Rabbi Levy, these values were central to a religiously observant life.
Levy intuited that most Israelis love tradition, admire Jewish values, and are open to intelligent study, discussion, and debate about our faith. He was, he said, “unshockable,” so he was unafraid to discuss anything. In Jerusalem and London, he held panels where experts from different perspectives could debate challenging issues. He also arranged the funding of an Orthodox rabbi to teach at Jerusalem’s secular yeshiva. The goal was always to present intellectually robust, kind, and compassionate Judaism. Even if secular Jews didn’t embrace traditional Judaism, they would appreciate its coherence and resent it less.
Levy’s personal example inspired many young people with a love of Judaism. When they asked him how to embark on their religious journey, his approach was always sensitive. He counseled them to adopt mitzvot that would not create tension within their families. “What is the benefit of encouraging you to keep the strictest interpretations of kashrut if, in the process, I destroy your ability to fulfill the biblical command to honor and respect your parents?” he would ask.
THIS PRINCIPLED but peaceful approach extended far beyond his own community. His very natural piety meant that he was trusted by all sectors of the community, from the most haredi to the least observant. He was the rabbi who could calm and resolve disagreements that threatened to break British Jewry apart. Whenever there was a conflict among rabbis, he was the person who could get them around the table to talk. Rabbi Levy was born and raised in Gibraltar (and was the first cousin and mentor of Jerusalem Deputy Mayor Fleur Hassan-Nahoum). The British colony on the Iberian peninsula is a model of coexistence between Catholics, Jews, Hindus, and Muslims.
The trust that he built across the British Jewish community was illustrated in 2006, the year marking 350 years of Jewish life in England. Levy brilliantly choreographed a service led by Britain’s Sephardi rabbis, at which all sectors were present. Alongside prime minister Tony Blair sat leaders of the Ashkenazi, Sephardi, haredi, and Reform communities, and they all felt that Levy had respected their principles.
This ability to promote mutual respect and harmony among Jews with different beliefs extended to people of other faiths as well. His work to create harmonious relations between people of different religions was recognized with the award of an OBE by Queen Elizabeth II.
Rabbi Sacks taught us that good leaders create followers, but great leaders create more leaders; successors to continue their path. Together with the trustees of the Montefiore Endowment and Jerusalem’s Eretz Hemdah Institute, Levy created a semicha (rabbinic ordination) program to train dozens of people to become rabbis, thus promoting caring and compassionate Orthodox Judaism around the world.
This program was followed by the creation of a seven-year dayanut course (to become a judge in a Jewish religious court) to create well-rounded rabbinic judges. It is a tribute to Levy that, coinciding with his first yahrzeit, the first cadre of dayanim (judges) are now graduating, and many more will follow.
We are all immensely proud of Israel. The last few weeks have shown that when we are threatened, millions of Jews from diverse backgrounds can unite to defeat the common enemy.
Rabbi Abraham Levy showed us ways to unite when our challenge is not a genocidal adversary but our own internal discord. He showed us a Judaism that is not coercive but inspiring. He demonstrated that not only ritual but also kindness, compassion, and decency are central to an authentic Jewish life.
And the esteemed rabbi showed us that by treating others with love and respect, we can draw closer to God, closer to our most beautiful traditions, and closer to a unified Jewish people.