The Chosen – Lech L’cha
It’s a wonderful promise that God makes to Abraham: “And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great”.
It is the foundation of what has come to be called the Chosen People doctrine.
Yet the idea that we are in some sense a specially chosen people offends many as arrogant. Bernard Shaw compared it with the Nazi claim to be a Herrenvolk. HG Wells called it a hindrance to world unity. Toynbee damned it as “the most notorious historical example of the idolisation of an ephemeral self”. De Gaulle said insulting things about it. Some theologians label it as pure tribalism. The world puts it down to clannishness.
So let’s put the record straight. The belief that we are a unique people does not imply exclusive rights to salvation. Nor does it mean we are intrinsically superior to others – or that we seek world domination. Our prayer book does not say, “You have chosen us from all peoples and given us rule over them”. What it does say is, “You have chosen us… and sanctified us with Your commandments and drawn us to Your service”.
There is no thought that a non-Jew is out in the cold. Jewish teaching is clear: “The righteous of all peoples have a share in the World to Come”. A person’s religious or ethnic label or cultural baggage tag is not the deciding factor; the criterion is whether that person has led a righteous life, defined in terms of adherence to the Seven Laws of the Sons of Noah.
It was not for privilege that Israel was chosen, but for responsibility, to be “a light to the nations, that you may be My salvation to the end of the earth”.
You do God’s work by allowing His will to govern every aspect of your life, making every moment conform to the highest standards of morals and ethics, and giving an example of righteousness to others.
It can be a heavy chore. The task is not always carried out too well. We are not angelic beings who never go wrong.
Yet for all the foolish lapses of which we are sometimes guilty, Jews have never set up concentration camps or gas chambers or unleashed genocide (the horrible modern phrase is “ethnic cleansing”) upon other peoples.
We have not made such a bad job of practising the morality we preach. Others have much less to be proud of.
The rest of the world still has to learn the lessons of the Jewish prophets and the Jewish ideas of human concern and social justice, reverence for life and love of all God’s creatures.
There is however a puzzling paradox in Jewish history. If we are in some way the chosen people, why has God dealt with us so severely? Surely His purpose could have been served without the trials and tribulations!
To this there are no easy answers. Perhaps it is inevitable that a deliberately dissentient minority should attract suspicion and persecution. Perhaps we needed to undergo experiences that would reinforce our determination to aim for the stars even though others sought to bring us down to the dust.
The Midrash asks why we are said to be like clay in the hands of the potter. It answers that the potter needs to be certain that the pottery he has made is not going to chip and crack. So he taps it quite sharply on all sides to assure himself that it can stand up to wear and tear.
Perhaps the same applies to God and the Jewish people. To ensure that they are morally strong enough to cope with life, God puts them to the test. Once He knows they can handle the challenge, He awards them His blessing.
