What is the language of Judaism, without which it is not Judaism? Jewish life before modernity was characterized by an organic and unified language. Can there be, in the modern world, a single such language, which would command the loyalty of all; or should we speak, rather, of several related ones?

Whatever Jewish language may be, how can it be taught to those who don’t speak it? Which link can be found between it and the language(s) pupils already speak? If there are several Jewish languages, which is most appropriately used for teaching those who are not insiders, who live in other languages?

Four languages may be suggested that are different formulations of that essence of Judaism which must be transmitted: The language of Halacha, the language of Cultural Forms, the language of Learning and the language of Principles and Value-Ideas. Let us briefly examine these options.

The Halakha: One clear and classic position is: the language of Judaism is the halakha, the law that sets the norms for the observance of the commandments. Jews live a religious, national and moral life in the Jewishly prescribed way when they are within the order of the halakha.

In this view, everything other than the Jewish way of life - which governs all of one’s actions, testifies to one’s beliefs, and prescribes one’s communal bonds - is of secondary importance. The way in which one believes in God or interprets the significance of the commandments is a matter of personal search. That which is communal and authoritative - serving God and carrying out God’s will through the commandments - is most important. Therefore, the language of Judaism is best and most fully articulated in halakhic discussion and in the life of communities whose members can be counted on to play their roles in the mundane yet sacred routine of holy fellowship.

This is the language of Judaism generally espoused by Jews in our time who are termed "traditional"; most of them call themselves Orthodox, some Conservative, all agree to be labeled "observant." They have tradition on their side, but some scholars have suggested that their emphasis on halakha as the only normative component of Jewish language is exaggerated. They suggest that their limitation of Judaism to halakha indicates their desire to leave room in their lives for the general culture of modern thought and technology.

Despite differences among the observant who maintain that the language of Judaism is the halakha, they all agree that Jewishnesss in its objective and imposed aspect is practice, and that the world-view of Judaism is only to be discovered from within the legal-normative language. Children, they argue, should be initiated into this language. And that is Jewish education.

The following are some key or representative sentences in the lexicon of those who speak and teach this language:

1. When does Shabbat "come in" (i.e., begin) tonight? (The correct answer today, in Jerusalem, Shabbat Lech Lecha: 4:21 P.M.)
2. Have you already davened (prayed) Mincha? (The only two possible answers: 'Yes’ or 'No,’ excepting the just-bereaved person, who before the burial of the deceased is not obligated to pray, and women, who are obligated to daily prayer but not to prayer at a specific time of day.)
3. Is this chicken kosher? (Meaning, does it conform to the objective requirements of slaughtering, salting, etc.; meaning also, can we serve it at the party this evening?)
4. Do I have to obey my parents when they forbid me to go on aliyah? (i.e., how must one conduct oneself in case of a conflict between the implementation of two laws - in this case: honoring parents, and living in Eretz Yisrael?)

It is clear that most Jews today do not speak this language. Mr. A. [here, and in what follows, Rosenak uses initialed names for the authors of various opinions in an imagined debate on Jewish education that he describes in another chapter – eds.] may argue that this fact makes them less Jewish or "un-Jewish," and that Jewish education, to be authentically Jewish, must transmit this language to them anyhow, somehow. Indeed, he not only has a good historical case, but he can point out that, sociologically, most non-observant Jews consider observant ones better Jews.

As educators we must ask how that language can be made to function. Can it be communicated? Can it be spoken in a way that is not simply rote repetition reserved for the classroom and irrelevant to students’ daily lives? Is there some way to move people in the direction of this language, even if they don’t believe in it - i.e., do not speak it and don’t consider speaking it an intrinsically worthwhile pursuit?

Cultural Forms: Many modern, secularized Jews who wish to live "within" Judaism and to speak its language, but cannot accept the religious beliefs underlying the halakhic regimen, conceive of Jewish language as consisting of patterns and forms of culture that are uniquely and perennially Jewish. Ahad Ha’am, in his essay "Holy and Profane," suggested that these patterns and forms were "holy" frameworks or "shells" that remained constant in Jewish civilization and changed or renewed their content and meaning incessantly. To be a Jew meant speaking a language of concepts and gestures that was unmistakably Jewish: Torah, Kiddush Hashem, Oneg Shabbat, Navi, Cohen, and Bayit Sheni. A modern Jew, opined Ahad Ha’am, understands God in a non-traditional manner, but still has the knowledge and the passion for Jewish history to thrill to the words of the prophet, "Thus saith the Lord," even though the prophet understood "the Lord" in a manner that is no longer plausible to him or her. However, the speaker of this language is not troubled by this disparity. For he or she believes that the text itself and its holy forms and ideas are the substance of Judaism, the language constantly being delineated by new interpretation.

The following are some typical articulations of this language:

1. I have registered for studies at the Hebrew University because I wish to learn Torah. (The potential student is planning to study Judaica using scientific methods. Learning Torah means studying Jewish culture.)
2. I wish you a Chag Kasher v’Sameach. (Pesach is approaching, and this is the cultured way to wish one’s fellow a happy Passover. "Kosher," which once meant "in accordance with the proscriptions of the laws of chametz," now means "proper, Passover-like," and probably includes the classic meaning, "without bread and with matzah" as the prominent holy constants in the ritual of Passover.)
3. It’s a mitzvah to build and defend the Bayit Shlishi (literally, "the Third Temple." The mitzvah is a national-cultural imperative; it means to contribute to the growth and defense of the state of Israel. The latter is "the Third Temple" in the sense that the First and Second Temples were - in the historical consciousness of Jews - the succinct and holy ways to refer to the previous commonwealths.)

The Jewish educator who uses this language, believing that it is the modern expression of what Judaism always was (though it perhaps understood itself differently) also has a clear mandate of what to teach. He or she must transmit the idiom of Jewishness. This includes the Hebrew language, for it is the vehicle of the culture. It also includes the great works, the philosophies, even the halakha, for halakha is the historical form through which Judaism expressed itself primarily. The pupil who has learned this language knows our sources and naturally uses such expressions as Shabbat, Baruch Hashem, Bein Kesseh LeAsor, (between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur) without thereby proclaiming his halakhic observance or his theology.

The attractive power of modern cultural Jewish education, especially in its comprehensive forms in Israel, is that it is a language that secular Jews can, in good conscience, speak. It confers a Jewish identity, lays claim to historic continuity, sounds Jewish, but does not demand commitment to religious beliefs and practices that many Jews find unacceptable.

"Learning" and Texts: Closely related to the language of cultural forms is the language of Jewish knowledge and learning. According to its adherents, the specific and unique trademark of Jewish life is limmud Torah, if not in the sense that one is duty-bound to learn God’s Will and Word, then in the sense that it is desirable to be knowledgeable in the literature and immersed in the wisdom of the Jewish people. The Bible, the Talmud, and Midrash, as well as the philosophy and poetry of the Jewish heritage, are as worthy of intensive devotion as any literature in the world, but for the Jew they are more than that. They are the sources that fashioned the soul of our people. To speak the language of Judaism is to be at home in that literature and in communion with its spirit. Torah, in this large literary sense, furnishes the Jew with culture and calls upon him to continue it creatively.

Jewish education seeking to transmit this language of Judaism must thus be founded on study. The uneducated Jew, it can be argued, is the am ha’aretz. In fact, since Jewish education has long been an enterprise of learning Torah, this approach even has the pedigree of tradition. At the same time, it is not a threat to the life-style or world-view of the pupil or his or her parents. He and she need not practice commandments and can study Torah in a literary mode that is universal in its existential concerns yet discloses the unique insights of the Jewish spirit.

Nevertheless, the decision to build a Jewish curriculum around various Jewish texts does not mandate an empathy for the norms, the world-view, or the commitment to holiness that made the study of Torah a mitzvah, rather than a general humanistic pursuit. One traditionally studies Torah in order to live it. Without confronting the demand of the Torah that it be applied, the learning and teaching of Torah may simply be an intellectual exercise, in principle available to non-Jews as well as Jews. Thus, it is more like the language of an academic discipline than of a culture.

Principles and Value-Ideas: A fourth position is that the language of Judaism, the unique essence it embodies and that must be transmitted to each successive generation, is a corpus of ideas, designed to shape society in their image and to guide individuals in their relation to God and their fellows. This corpus of ideas was revolutionary when first promulgated. Today it still challenges men and women to adopt it, and competes with other systems of ideas and values that Judaism negated or considered insufficient for human self-actualization and spirituality. Conversely, many of these value-ideas have been adopted, at least theoretically, by the society around us. But Judaism not only expresses and elaborates on them in a manner that is indigenous to our tradition, it insists that these ideas be applied in every situation and to every aspect of life. Indeed, one of the dominant concepts of this language is that ideas that are not translated into action are worthless: knowledge must be reflected in noble character, and principles of belief and of reason must be brought down to earth and lived by "a kingdom of priests and a holy people." This idea remains peculiar to Judaism, even though many of its doctrines and its monotheistic world-view have been adopted by others. The rabbis of the Talmud intimated that the soul of Judaism is the operative meaning of all of the values of the Torah when they suggested that the Oral Tradition, which applies the Torah to all situations, is more dear than the Written Torah. The "true Israel," they believed, are those who possess both the Written and the Oral Torah.

Teaching Judaism via the language of principles and values has distinct educational virtues. It presents Judaism in a light that is often startling to pupils in Jewish schools. As a result, they learn to see it as a world-view that encompasses their lives in all its dimensions, and which is serious and worthy of deep study. They understand it to compete vigorously with some of the ideas that other civilizations posit. They may learn to compare it with ideas that they take for granted and have never examined critically.

The concept of Judaism as value-ideas - principles that demand translation into action in concrete and mundane circumstances - can be stated in terms that are universal enough to speak to the pupils’ general sense of reason and morality at the same time that they are learning something specifically Jewish which is new and challenging. For example, when they learn about civil law, they discover that, in Judaism, it has a religious foundation; when they study regulations about prayer, they come upon the universal desire for change or the hope that everything will turn out all right - preoccupations that raise interesting philosophical and theological questions.

Of course, there are drawbacks to and dangers in this approach as well. Value-ideas and their application are part of Judaism, but they are not, for most Jews, all of it. The charge that this approach is incomplete, however, applies equally to the other frameworks for Jewish education described herein. Most Jews will agree that law, "forms and metaphors," or literature are not the whole of Judaism, and that, ideally, the student should be presented with a complete picture of the tradition.

However, the educational dilemma facing us is the identification of subject-matter that will be communicable to pupils, acceptable to the teachers, and congenial to the environment within which we are working.

A Curriculum of Value-Ideas: Our discussions, studies, and experience have led us to believe that the language of Judaism most plausibly and effectively conveyed to non-committed pupils is that of value-ideas.

The language of halakhah, while central in Jewish tradition and classically assumed to be the path of initiation into Jewish life, depends on faith assumptions and communal loyalties that are not part of the lives of most modern Jews. Thus, trying to teach Judaism through the language of halakhah is likely to engender the conflict between authenticity and relevance discussed above. True, it may be argued, that theologically, teaching halakhah is the most legitimate approach. J.V. has, however, given a conclusive answer to those who would adopt this approach but refuse to limit their teaching to those already identifying themselves as observant. Teaching what is theologically proper in a context in which it is incomprehensible is not teaching.

The language of "holy" frameworks and forms is educationally viable as a "handle" on the Jewish tradition and has the potential to include other aspects of Judaism (e.g., literature, halakhah, Jewish ideas). It is not, however, likely to motivate learning outside Israel or other explicitly Zionist frameworks. Pupils living in Israel experience some of these "holy forms" – Hebrew, Shabbat as a day of rest - in their everyday lives. These forms are part of their social reality. In the Diaspora, however, they are just cultural impositions, secularized mitzvot, which compete with the curriculum patterns of the secular non-Jewish society in which the pupils live.

Teaching Judaism as literature does not have the educational drawbacks of the first two answers. But this language is both too little and too much. It is too little because it provides only literary or general curricular principles of selection. It is too much because, lacking an internal principle, one can teach anything as though it were everything. A "literature curriculum" will tend to teach the aesthetic elements in the Jewish tradition to the exclusion of halakhah. Moreover, while it makes sense to think about Torah as a set of commandments, national norms, or ideas striving for implementation, it is a distortion to view it merely through aesthetic or literary prisms. Historically, the value of knowledge of Torah was never related to the cultivation of literary taste or enjoying "great books." Torah was studied in order to know God’s will and or because it was wrong to be an am ha’aretz, because "an ignorant person cannot be pious."

The philosophical and existential seriousness of the ideational structure and content of Jewish tradition can, however, be transmitted to those who are not committed to it. Judaism, as J.V. reminded us, is both universal - thus readily communicated - and particular. Therefore, the former can lead to the latter. The language of ideas can be used to legitimate Judaism without making it say what the pupils already know. At the same time, what they already know is valuable and can be used by the teacher as an introduction and invitation to learning. We believe that a curriculum about Judaism should address matters that teachers and pupils see as important. Once there is consensus on this point, the specific and surprising ways in which Judaism addresses these matters can be readily taught and understood.

Pupils generally think that Judaism is not a matter of ideas at all, that it concerns itself with holiday ceremonies, dietary restrictions, Sabbath "laws," and primitive (read "unscientific") beliefs. The language of the values-ideas approach suggests that the ceremonies reflect and concretize a world-view, that rituals are metaphors of action, that beliefs are principled statements of world-view that serve as bases for discussion and controversy.

For example, the classic belief in the revelation of the Torah establishes the authority of the Torah and posits that our moral understanding and norms originate outside the social convention. It also makes particular, thought not narrowly proscriptive, theological claims. We might ask our pupils: What does the authority of the Torah mean and how is it established concretely? What would be the consequence of believing that our moral standards and values are socially constructed? How do we know which belief about authority, morality and society is right? How are different beliefs interpreted? Applied?

Teaching Judaism as a language of value-ideas creates little friction with non-observant homes. Moreover, it enables the school to invite parents to learning that does not consist simply of synagogue or ritual "skills" (in which highly educated people are usually made to feel ridiculous). Parents are thus made partners in an area that is interesting to them, in which they have some competence, and which strengthens their pride in a strongly felt but little understood Jewish identity.

The concept of Judaism as a set of value-ideas striving for implementation can also be used to guide the study of texts. These ideas are found in specific curricular and religious forms; the halakhah is related to them as action is related to thought. Whether thought or action come first in Judaism is a theological question with practical implications. But the belief that they are related is shared by both halakhic and ideational languages.

Finally, the language of value-ideas accords ample opportunity and an appropriate structure for distinguishing between scientific thinking and religious thought. For example, the idea of Creation - a basic value concept of Judaism that suggests Divine Providence and purpose - can be differentiated from the formation of the world as it is addressed by various scientific disciplines that are interested in natural processes.

True, there are considerable dangers of distortion in this approach. Perhaps the most obvious is the danger of banality. In such a case, no new ideas would be presented to the pupil, and nothing specific would be demanded of pupil or teacher. The Judaism taught would be relevant but dull. That would be just as bad as teaching that is authentic but incomprehensible.