No, seriously? In today’s world, does it really matter? Isn’t love the most important thing? Why do people decide it’s important–or, as may be the case, not important–to marry within the tribe?

This week’s Modern Love column in the NY Times (hat tip to EV at Jewschool) examines one woman’s search for the answer to this question–but it also raises some interesting questions about how people connect to Jewish life, and how that point of connection can impact their decisions in relationships.

For instance, take Harry Goldenblatt, from “Sex and the City.” Yes, Esther’s well aware that “Sex and the City” isn’t real. (Believe me, she’s all TOO aware.) While he was more than willing to engage in a relationship with Charlotte, he said he wouldn’t marry her because he had promised his grandmother that he’d marry a Jew. Not because it would be difficult for him to observe a Jewish life with a non-Jewish woman. Not because he wanted to make sure his kids were raised Jewish. But because of the Holocaust. Over the course of the relationship, as things get more serious, Charlotte becomes more interested in Judaism than Harry is, and consequently pursues conversion, so she can become the Jewish wife he wants. But Harry’s point of connection is still the Holocaust, and a promise made to a family member. For some people, that’s a powerful enough connector. But with a little bit of education about Jewish life, perhaps at an early age within a meaningful, familial context, and the promise to marry a Jewish spouse might have been more resonant.

Similarly, the author of this Modern Love piece had little in the way of Jewish background that compelled her to understand why it might be important to her to marry a Jew. She consequently fell for non-Jews rather consistently, by the end of the history recounted in the piece (spoilers here, such as they are) marrying one and having his baby.

What do I think? I don’t think it’s up to me to tell people that they need to marry Jews.  For me, it’s more comfortable, because I want a Jewish home, a common language, a shared understanding of how to live a Jewish life. For others, it may not be important–perhaps because of upbringing, or education, or personality, but perhaps undefinably so. I try not to judge.

As I said in my comment on that post, “To say that the author doesn’t understand the essence of Judaism would imply that there’s someone out there who can definitively distill that essence down to a soundbyte, which I’m not sure is possible. Obviously, I speak from a point of privilege, having benefited from (too much?) Jewish education. But each person I’ve met who’s tried to define Judaism for themselves connects differently–for some it’s Shabbat, for others it’s tikkun olam, for still others it’s the Holocaust. Some of those points of connection are certainly more solid than others. But to an extent, the solidity and resonance of a connection point depends on the seeker. Perhaps the essence of Judaism is questioning, and never feeling like you’ve found THE answer.”

Given that even in the twenty minutes since I made that comment, there’s already dissent. But that’s healthy. In fact, it’s Jewish. So let the questioning continue…