Hi!

I’m John Green, and welcome  to Crash Course Religions.

So,   it’s time to brush your teeth.

Except, you can’t use toothpaste.

And your toothbrush bristles can’t   absorb any water.

And you absolutely cannot risk making your gums bleed when you brush.

These are a few of the rules that some Jewish people observe when they celebrate the Sabbath,   or Shabbat, every Friday.

These  actions are considered melachot,   or prohibited activities on the Sabbath.

So, how do they maintain good oral hygiene?

Some folks at the company Kosher Innovations   designed a Shabbat-friendly toothbrush.

It’s got rubber bristles that won’t absorb   water or rough up your gums.

And in lieu of toothpaste, folks can use mouthwash.

But here’s the thing, there are tons  of Jewish people across the world who   don’t abide by these rules, and  that doesn’t make them any less   Jewish.

Judaism is–there’s a theme  emerging in this series–complex.

[THEME MUSIC] A long time ago, a man named Jacob got into an all-night fight with an angel.

Jacob was   a descendant of Abraham, who had previously formed a covenant, or agreement, with God.

And yet here was Jacob, one of the inheritors of that covenant, duking it out with His Truly.

By the time the fight was over, he had a  new nickname: Yisra’el, meaning “he who   struggles with God.” Jacob’s descendants, the ancient Israelites, would eventually form what   we know today as Judaism.

But what does it really mean to be Jewish?

You might say that   the Jewish people have been wrestling with that very question ever since that long-ago brawl.

Judaism is often described as monotheistic—so you might think, “got it, one God, easy.” But   consider this: about half of religious Jewish people in the United States today believe in   some other spiritual force, not the traditional God of the Hebrew Bible.

For comparison, only   about 20% of American Christians do not believe in the God described in the Christian Bible.

And then, when you consider non-religious Jews — an identity we’ll get into more later — as   many as 44 percent of self-identified Jewish people in the U.S. don’t believe in God at all.

So, if a Jewish person doesn’t  consider themselves religious,   or believe in God, are they still Jewish?

[phone rings] Oh, sorry, I need to take this [answers] God, I thought I blocked you.

[Devil’s Advocate] I’m on my burner.

Well, I guess technically they’re all burners.

This one’s easy: being Jewish is a religion – so   if someone doesn’t believe in God, they aren’t Jewish.

I’ve got the guide right here.

This  says they’ve got something like a Bible—  [John] Tanakh.

[Devil’s Advocate] Something like a pastor—[John] Rabbi.

[Devil’s Advocate] Something like a church—[John] Synagogue.

Look, all those things are true.

But many Jews don’t follow a common creed.

For a lot of folks, it’s more about action than faith.

[Devil’s Advocate] So all I have   to do to be Jewish is act Jewish?

[John] No, that’s not what I said.

[Devil’s Advocate] Hey, I’m  just asking questions here.

[John] Oh God.

One of the ways I know  we don’t live in a perfect world,   Devil’s Advocate, is because if we  did, when somebody said “I’m just   asking questions here,” they would disappear automatically into a puff of smoke forever.

OK, to be Jewish, you could convert, which traditionally involves months of study and   religious education.

Or, you might be born into Judaism because it’s often thought of as   ancestral.

But it’s also cultural, a community with shared ways of cooking, eating, marrying,   washing, and speaking.

And that culture is wildly diverse.

Many Jewish people believe that following   religious law is extremely important–that it’s inherent to the Ultimate Concern.

[Devil’s Advocate] Oh, God, every time  you quote Paul Tillich I want to barf.

—hold on man, I think this is my crypto broker, I gotta go.

[John] I need to stop answering unknown numbers.

The point is: Jewish identity can be a lot of things.

Some Jewish people feel more connected   to the cultural aspects; others to the religious or ancestral ones; and some to all – or none – of   the above.

But let’s begin with the stuff  that fits into our stereotypical religion box.

Judaism is rooted in several ancient Israelite   texts, known as the Tanakh.

But today, we’re going to focus on the Torah, which has shaped   how Jewish people think of their relationship to God, and each other, for thousands of years.

The Written Torah refers to the first  five books of the Hebrew Bible, which,   according to Jewish tradition, God presented to a prophet named Moses.

If those five books were   episodes of Friends, they’d be: Genesis, the one about how everything was created; Exodus,   the one about Moses leading his people  out of enslavement in Egypt; Leviticus,   the one about how to live a holy lifestyle; Numbers, the one where the Israelites   suffer while they wander the wilderness; and Deuteronomy, the one with 199 commandments.

The Written Torah contains recurring  themes of exile and return, loss and   restoration.

And these themes continue to resonate with many Jewish people today,   particularly in light of a long history  of persecution, especially by Christians.

Unfortunately, antisemitism didn’t  begin or end with the Holocaust.

The history of anti-Semitism in Europe  goes back a very, very long way.

But   one place where I've seen it as somebody who spends a lot of time reading about   infectious disease is in European responses to pandemics, especially the Black Death,   a horrifying pandemic that killed around half of all people in Northern Africa, Europe, and Asia.

In response to the Black Death, many  Christian people came to believe that   it was caused by Jewish people, especially Jewish people poisoning their rivers and   their drinking water with some kind  of magic serum that caused the plague.

This was, of course, ludicrous.

There was never any evidence for it, many experts, including,   like, the Pope, were pushing back against it, but it became so ingrained in the European idea   that Jewish people were massacred around Europe in the 14th century.

So I just want to emphasize that   anti-semitism in Europe certainly did not begin in the 20th century.

It is very, very long-standing.

All of this brings me to a brief digression about how old stories sometimes take on new life.

The   Written Torah’s themes of exile and return are a big part of the narrative surrounding the modern   state of Israel, whose formation in 1948 was the goal of a political movement called Zionism.

Zionism is a diverse movement, but  it views Judaism as a nationality,   as well as a religious, cultural, and  ancestral identity.

Proponents advocate   for a national home in Israel where Jewish people can live as citizens of a Jewish state.

Now obviously, this is complicated for a lot of geopolitical reasons that we aren’t going to get   into here, but suffice it to say, Jewish people are not the only people with roots or a current   presence in what is now the state of Israel.

There are also people of the Druze faith,   as well as Muslim and Christian Palestinians, many of whom have been and continue to be displaced.

It’s important to remember that not  all Jews support the Zionist movement,   but many do.

And the state of Israel, formed in the wake of the Holocaust wherein six million   Jews were systematically murdered by the Nazi regime in Europe, has been widely – but not   universally – recognized by other nations since 1948.

You can find much, much more information on   this historical context, by following the  links in the description of this episode.

OK, back to the Torah.

So besides the  Written Torah, there’s also the Oral Torah,   which – despite its name – has also  been written down for a very long time.

The Oral Torah is the whole body of Jewish teachings, law, practices, interpretations,   and scriptures passed down alongside the Written Torah.

If that all sounds a little contradictory,   just wait until you hear about the two guys who started it.

Let’s head to the Thought Bubble… There once lived two rabbis.

Shammai, the strict, fiery,   “rules are rules” type.

And Hillel, the gentle, caring, “impossible to anger” type.

Despite their differences, the two rabbis  actually agreed on most things.

But they   each had their own schools of Torah learning—Beit Shammai, the more strict; and Beit Hillel, the   more lenient.

And as those schools grew, so did the hot takes on the finer points of Jewish law.

Like, is it okay to divorce?

Beit Shammai said: only in serious cases.

Beit Hillel said: sure,   for lots of reasons, from infidelity to  intentionally being served spoiled food.

Or is it okay to tell a white lie?

Beit Shammai said never,   even if it means telling a woman she doesn’t look beautiful on her wedding day.

Beit Hillel said:   every woman looks beautiful at her wedding.

If you think she doesn’t, no you don’t.

For centuries, the two schools  debated marriage laws, holy days,   and everything in-between.

And around the year 200 CE,   rabbis started writing these opinions down, and then writing down opinions about those opinions,   so that dueling perspectives literally  circled each other on the page.

This   cacophonous debate became known as the Talmud: the central rabbinic text for most Jews today.

Thanks Thought Bubble!

So, today, the Talmud is the most comprehensive collection of Oral Torah,   with over two-and-a-half million words laying out opinions on how to interpret Jewish laws.

And to add another wrinkle, when Jews talk about the Torah, they often mean both the Written and   Oral Torah.

That Dual Torah is the source of Jewish rituals, holidays, and customs today,   including practices like wearing a head covering called a kippah, circumcising baby boys eight   days after birth, and celebrating the weekly Shabbat, or holy day, every Friday at sunset.

But because there are so many ways to  interpret the laws of the Dual Torah,   the debates that started way back with Shammai and Hillel continue today, around questions like,   can women be rabbis?

Or is it okay to  push an elevator button on Shabbat,   using electricity when the law says to refrain from creating fires and sparks on that day?

The answers depend on how you interpret the nature of Jewish laws in general.

Are they   meant to be unwavering, flexible, or somewhere in between?

Ask three different Jewish people,   and you might get three (or more) different answers.

Many branches of Judaism have sprung from these interpretations.

On the by-the-book end of the   spectrum, Orthodox Judaism commits to the most traditional view of laws— especially when it   comes to keeping Shabbat, following dietary restrictions, and defining gender roles.

Like, at an Orthodox synagogue, men  and women worship in separate spaces.

Only men can be rabbis, and a child is  Jewish only if their mom is Jewish.

Also,   there’s no pushing an elevator button on Shabbat, but you can ride in an elevator programmed to   stop at all the floors automatically.

And  in places with large Orthodox populations   like New York City and Jerusalem, some  elevators are designed to do exactly that.

On the opposite end of the  spectrum, there’s Reform Judaism,   the most progressive branch and  the most common in the U.S. today,   which views the Oral Torah as divinely  inspired—but definitely human-made.

Reform Jews think of traditional  laws like a house built long ago   that needs to fit its current occupants.

So in Reform Judaism,   men and women worship together; women can be rabbis; and as long as one parent is Jewish,   the child is Jewish too.

Whether or not you push an elevator button on Shabbat is up to you.

In the middle, you have Conservative Judaism,   which holds “tradition and change” as  its motto.

So there’s reverence for the   old ways—like tracing Jewish ancestry through the mother—but openness to people’s needs now.

Women can be rabbis and worship alongside men in Conservative synagogues.

And,   while using electricity on Shabbat  is still discouraged, Conservative   rabbis made an exception in 2020, permitting live-streamed services in light of the pandemic.

And then beyond those big three branches, there are other groups with their own   interpretations: Reconstructionists  who prioritize learning from the past,   but finding what’s meaningful now.

People who say “I’m Jewish,” but   don’t identify with any particular  branch.

And yes, Jewish atheists.

And throughout history, largely in response to persecution in communities where they were a   religious minority, Jewish people spread across the world in what’s called the Jewish diaspora,   and unique communities emerged in each new location: Ashkenazi Jews in Eastern Europe,   Sephardic Jews in Spain and Portugal, and Beta Israel in Ethiopia.

All of these voices,   all of these perspectives, and all of them Jewish.

So, is Judaism a religion?

Yes.

But  being Jewish doesn’t have to be a   religious identity.

It’s also  a people.

A culture.

To many,   being Jewish is much bigger and more fluid  than what the word “religion” can hold.

Being Jewish can look and feel very different  based on your interpretation of Torah,   or the synagogue where you attend services,  or if you don’t attend services at all but   still identify as Jewish.

Judaism is a  religion, but it’s also a way of being,   a lineage, a culture, what some scholars  have called a civilizational identity.

In our next episode, we’ll  explore many of the ways that