The case against Noodle Kugel Judaism

I’m sorry the complexity of living a Jewish life has been so profoundly stripped down that all remains are flimsy strips of lox.

By now, the tweet above has made its rounds, tweeted by a secular and self-proclaimed anti-Zionist Jew.

I have a social media rule I try to hold myself to: I don’t post anything online unless I feel like I’m adding something of substance to the conversation. If I’m just parroting or reinforcing a take made by others—often much smarter people—I don’t feel the need to add one more voice to the chorus of everyone shouting the same thing.

This tweet, however, is something I’ve been thinking about, especially coming off the heels of Shavuot, the holiday when we accept the Torah. Although I don’t think I have a particularly revolutionary or unique take, I found it meaningful enough to write about.

It’s often the minimization of Judaism and Jewish practice that draws me closer to it and makes me feel protective of being Torah observant. I don’t think the author of this tweet was intentionally aiming to reduce Judaism to celebratory carbs and “little hats.” I think that’s simply her entire estimation and grasp of Jewish life itself, and that’s unfortunate.

Never mind her lame and laughable assertion that, if only Israel didn’t exist, Jews would have a much better global reputation. Someone might want to remind her of a minor and totally-not-notable event that took place only three years before the founding of Israel. What was that again? Oh yeah, the Holocaust.

Reading this tweet for the first time, I actually felt a little sad for its writer. I don’t think I’m making too far of a leap to assume she grew up a secular Jew and missed out on the beauty and depth true Jewish life has to offer. I'm not even going to address her ridiculous anti-zionist position, even though I assume her ignorance on Jewish observance mirrors her ignorance on the land of Israel's significance to Judaism.

Don’t get me wrong—Jewish food is great. I’m not one to bash Kugel, Hamentashen, Shavuot cheesecake, or Latkes. Jewish foods do hold depth and cultural significance, especially within each family and community, with recipes passed down from generation to generation. I never met my husband's Moroccan grandmother, but I feel her presence in my kitchen as I make Moroccan fish the way her daughter, my Doda Myriam, taught me, no doubt, similarly to the way her mother used to make it. And I never met my Lithuanian great-grandmother, but I’m sure she made chicken soup with matzo balls somewhat resembling the one I make for Shabbat.

But if noodle kugel and deli sandwiches are what comes to mind when you try to rack your brain on the significance Judaism brings to your life and the world at large, then I’m sorry you weren’t afforded the opportunity to see what Judaism truly is. I’m sorry your Jewish lineage has culminated in placing pastries at the center of your Jewish identity. I’m sorry the complexity of living a Jewish life has been so profoundly stripped down that all remains are flimsy strips of lox.

I’m not here to gatekeep, and I’m not the arbiter of Jewish meaningfulness. I was simply struck by this tweet due to its superficiality, and how it’s often others belittling Judaism that makes me realize how lucky I am to be properly educated on living Jewishly and leading a religious life.

When I was nineteen, I spent a year in Israel working in a Chabad house. My main responsibility was engaging with the guests at the Chabad house hostel—making them feel comfortable and attending to their needs, whether that was a spiritual conflict or simply restocking fresh towels for their room.

It was both fascinating and frustrating for me to hear so many young Jewish adults, some my age or older, tell me stories of their journeys to India to pray in an Ashram, or how they had a religious revival that led them to a Buddhist monastery in Thailand. I wanted to shake them by the shoulders and say: "Do you not realize your own religion holds ancient wisdom and spirituality that predates many of the traditions you're chasing after? Do you not know that you were born into a holy covenant that binds you to G-d? You don’t need to search or travel. You are the inheritor and deserving of these priceless gems, merely by existing. You have a piece of G-d in you! Why are you backpacking all over the jungles of Asia when you can plunge your hands right into your own backyard and pull up gold that is far richer than anything you can find at a yoga retreat? Why are you looking for spiritual abundance in every corner of the world except your own?”

I did engage in these conversations, and the answers I got were mostly the same: “What depth is there to matzo ball soup? There’s nothing sacred in a Seder that takes seven hours with screaming kids and bickering grandparents. There’s nothing mystical in Chanukah presents, and Seinfeld doesn’t really evoke sentiments leading to a spiritual reawakening.”

In my sweet and unsure nineteen-year-old ways, I would explain to them that all the things they listed aren’t the essence of Judaism. Matzah ball soup, Uncle Irving’s chaotic Seder, Chanukah presents, and Seinfeld—that isn’t what it means to be a Jew.

The essence of being a Jew also isn’t to be found in combating anti-Semitism. This is something else that I’ve found increasingly frustrating since October 7th. Being a Jew in the defensive isn’t enough. Your Jewish identity cannot be sustained on a foundation of resisting those who hate you. There needs to be more significance at the center. Your Jewish identity needs to exist on more than being hated. It has to be something more complex than the desserts your Bubbie used to bake.

What is at the center of Judaism? Hashem and his Torah. (As well as the Land of Israel, which would no doubt make our uneducated anti-Zionist friend uncomfortable.) I am chosen. You are chosen. Not to sit on a pedestal and claim ourselves as extra special, but you and I were chosen for a specific purpose—to align ourselves with the Torah and reveal this world as a creation that is one with G-d’s essence. Every mitzvah is an instruction to make the world a brighter place. The words of Torah allow us to enter into the divine mind, to see His wishes and aim to achieve them. As a Jew, you are part of an eternal chain, dating back to the first Jew, Avraham Avinu. You are part of an infinite nation whose history proves we can and will never be broken.

Partiality of surface-level and cultural Judaism over essential Judaism is something that historically, the Jewish people have had to grapple with. In the times of the Seleucid Dynasty’s occupation over ancient Judea, the Greeks attempted to Hellenize the Jewish people. They prohibited the observance of ritual circumcision, Shabbat, and other Torah commandments. The Jews were still allowed to practice basic Jewish customs and traditions, and “logical” commandments. This was the Hellenists’ attempt at a facade that they were totally fine with cultural Judaism. But it was the spiritual and monotheistic type of practice they were repulsed by. Bagels, lox, and Seinfeld—good. Serving a singular G-d, engaging in spiritual practice and commandments that make no logical sense—bad.

I think a pretty good barometer to incorporate is: If the Hellenists would approve of your brand of Judaism, then maybe your Jewish practice is missing some key components.

A few months ago, I grew insecure when I realized most of my son's enthusiasm for Judaism comes from my husband. I comforted myself by telling myself that I am what makes my child Jewish. Even if my husband is the one who takes him to shul on Shabbat or makes sure to wash his hands first thing in the morning and recite Kiddush with him on Friday nights, I, as his mother, am what makes my child Jewish. But that's not enough. It’s not enough for my child to be Jewish. He needs to know what it means. He needs to know why it matters.

I made sure to course-correct and add more Jewish education into the mundane moments. I now make sure to recite Brachot with him before he eats, and tell him more Jewish stories, and practice the Aleph-Beis daily, which he loves.

It isn’t enough that my child is Jewish by blood, because of me. I need to give him the richness of Judaism that he deserves—the riches that exist and that I wish more Jews around the world realized. And although I think your Jewish identity needs to be predicated on more than just combating anti-Semitism, if your Jewish observance is the kind of Judaism that would tick off a Hellenist, I think I can stand behind that.

While challah, traditional Jewish dress, and dancing the Horah are aspects of Judaism that make it fun, bright, and exciting, they are all extras that add flavor to the soulful core of what it means to be a Jew. Summing up Judaism as delicious food and quirky garb would be like a husband telling his wife that the thing he loves most about her is her beauty. Sweet, but sorrowfully superficial and insulting—reducing the love of your life to her exterior shell.

All of the words I’ve written until now aren’t meant to downplay or minimize anyone’s connection to Judaism. If your sole connection to your Jewish heritage has been through cultural Jewish foods, I implore you to search for more. Babka and Gefilte fish will not be the answer to Jewish continuity. The future Jewish generations deserve more. This is as much a reminder to myself, as someone who lives a religious life, that there is more than robotic ritual. There is more to Judaism than noodle kugel.

There is a G-d waiting for me to forge a personal relationship with Him. There is a world of divinity breathing beneath the pages of the Torah, and it’s my birthright to dive into those depths.