In As a Jew, the former speechwriter explores the cultural forces that have shaped Jewish identity in America.
What prompted you to write this book?
My first book was about how I’d been very disengaged from Judaism, and then, at age 36, took an introduction to Judaism class and discovered its 4,000 years of wisdom and commentary about what it means to be human and live a worthy life. It was amazing, and I needed to share that. Then Covid happened, and I had a lot of time on my hands, and began to wonder why, exactly, I hadn’t seen any of this tradition in the Judaism I grew up with. At the same time, I was noticing a terrible rise in antisemitism—it had been coming from the right, and now I was seeing it on the left. And I began to ask if these two things might be related.
What did you find?
I discovered the Jewish identity I’d grown up with had been warped by thousands of years of antisemitism and hundreds of years of Jewish assimilation. My Jewish identity growing up was pretty contentless—this sort of, “Oh, I’m just a cultural Jew,” even though I knew nothing about Jewish culture, or, “Social justice is my Judaism,” even though people of all backgrounds believe in social justice. I always thought that identity was freely chosen.
But it wasn’t?
Having gone back and studied Jewish history, I began to realize it wasn’t. It was the result of some pretty ugly historical forces that are still at play. I started researching and writing the book well before October 7, and its aftermath was more heartbreaking evidence of what I was writing about—this neural groove that’s been worn into the Western world’s mind for centuries that Jews are diabolically powerful, depraved, and conspiring to hurt others. This book is about how that neural groove affected Jewish identity and my own Jewish identity.
You write that you sometimes catch yourself presenting your Judaism in a way you’re not comfortable with. Can you say more?
I think in order to escape persecution, like many minorities, Jews have tried to assimilate, to emphasize, “Oh, I’m just like you,” and I’ve sometimes caught myself trying to sand off the edges off my differences, to reassure people I’m not too Jewish—“I’m not one of those really religious Jews.” I’ve come to realize that’s almost a statement of self-erasure. I want to make the opposite statement; one of embracing my Jewishness.
How do you think a more casual type of Judaism might be changed?
I think we have to reclaim communal learning as a central aspect of Jewish tradition. Jewish study is a form of spiritual practice—the way we engage with the words of our ancestors, with the voice of the divine. I think we need to reassert that Jewish spiritual practice is not just sitting in a synagogue reciting prayers, but debating, questioning, and challenging.
