Random Thoughts: Religious Life And Neighbors

Español Recently, I have seen a few discussions on why people don’t like living near religious Jews. I have some thoughts on the matter, so I’m sharing them here as a post.

I find it strange that more people don’t see the beauty of religious life and community, especially compared to secular alternatives. I’m not Hasidic, but I spent many of my formative years in Hasidic environments, initially because speaking some Yiddish was the easiest way for a 13-year-old to find a job in Boro Park. While I’m not Hasidic in the traditional sense, if you define it as being very religious (as Hasid literally means “pious” or “stringent”), then yes, I do consider myself Hasidic. (I am actually yeshivish, for those who care about fine distinctions. Chafetz Chaim.)

Contrary to the strange (to me) idea that very religious people abuse their kids, my opinion is that they actually love their kids more. In religious communities, everything is centered around the family. Children aren’t treated like afterthoughts or burdens. The contrast with the secular culture I live in now is striking.

During my time in secular settings, I saw children being raised in environments that seemed worse for them in many ways: lots of TV, unstable family life, lack of meaning, materialism, and lack of character and community. The kids were happier in very religious communities, where they played outside and talked to others of all ages.

I do live in a more secular culture now, but my experience is unusual since I’m a wife and mother. I’m the kind of person who lives mostly in her head, so I am happy to let things flow past me unless they are relevant to one of my interests. My job is to serve G-d, keep the house running, the family going, and myself happy enough to continue it.

I really value modesty. Outside any very religious environment, it feels like everything is sexualized from a very young age, especially for girls. People talk about their sons as “heartbreakers” from as young as age 3! I'm glad I didn’t have to think about this much.

Although Judaism does have clearly defined gender roles, it also leaves room for individual personality differences. Particularly among Satmar Hasidic culture, there are men who do childcare as a profession, and women with a strong nature who have jobs that call for toughness. So what’s the big deal?

I personally experienced this openness in my own (not-at-all Satmar) community, when I’d argue or speak up with important Rabbis—they took me seriously and always took the time to engage with me. My father wanted to teach me Talmud (which I refused), and I spent most of my time learning.

On the other hand, whenever I tried to reach out to a secular academic, it was clearly unwelcome. At best, I’d get a lecture about how I didn’t know anything, and it was usually implied that this was because I was religious. My first academic friend ended up being an Orthodox Jewish neighbor.

Sure, I was a bit unconventional, but if I called up a random Rabbi to ask a question about something they wrote, I’d almost always get an enthusiastic reply—no matter my age. If I wrote a letter to a newspaper, people would respond to it. In the secular world, though, kids were expected to stick to children's newspapers, and professionals stayed in their own places. In that way, I find the Orthodox Jewish world to be much more egalitarian.

In the secular world, all they seem to care about is safety and health, which are important, but there’s very little emphasis on character building, social skills, or meaningful self-improvement. So much of kids' time is wasted on trivial nonsense. For example, my kids probably know more about random YouTube trivia than I knew about the Bible at their age, and honestly, I feel bad about that.

The dating scene in secular life is another example of unnecessary complexity. Everyone feels exploited in some way. Everyone is walking a tightrope. Something that should be a small slice of life—finding a mate—has turned into a long, exhausting ordeal that can drag on for 20 years or more.

Then there's the issue of real life: job, marriage, kids, and community. Here, the difference between religious and secular life hits hard. There’s no real secular community. People make friends at work, but there’s no support system, even from extended family. There’s no sense that other people genuinely care about your family or your kids. It’s every person for themselves. The religious culture is just the opposite: it is extremely community-minded and very supportive.

And if, in your secular culture, you opt out of having children, choosing to be part of the DINK (Dual Income, No Kids) lifestyle, your life becomes a cycle of Netflix, gaming, and vacations. But eventually, you’ll grow old. What then? Without a community or family, who will be there for you?

Even for the most successful secular individuals, like Barack Obama, life isn't all peaches and cream. Sure, he’s achieved incredible success, but he can’t go anywhere without security. He can’t make mistakes without it becoming a public ordeal. Success in secular terms comes with its own set of pressures and limitations.

Personally, I prefer the humble, grounded life of the very religious. Faith, family, and community come first. The simplicity and interconnectedness of my religious life beats individualism and constant striving that I see in others.

That doesn’t mean that in religious life there is no striving. A human being really does need ambition, but the ambition is on the spiritual plane. The striving is to be a better person, to accomplish good things, and to become more learned in G-d’s wisdom.

Advancing in these areas gives a person a true feeling of accomplishment and doesn’t involve climbing on the heads of others. Striving for secular goals, such as money and honor, never leaves a person truly happy.

It helps that I believe in a spiritual dimension and therefore can never accept certain secular foundational beliefs.

Just some random thoughts.

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