The quest for meaning is nothing new; every generation has searched for it. What has changed is the source of meaning and its relationship to identity formation. Historically, the group was the source of personal identity and meaning was achieved by fulfilling your obligations to the group. Now, the individual is seen as primary and the group, secondary. The question of what carries meaning has shifted from one’s obligations to Judaism (or the Jewish people or Jewish history) to what Judaism can do for the individual. The challenge for Jewish educators is to help people find personal inspiration in the accumulated wisdom of the Jewish people while also offering compelling reasons for participating in Jewish communal life.

The JCC Movement’s Statement of Vision and Principles identifies the JCC as:

A primary destination for Jewish engagement, a locus of learning and celebration and a connector to Jewish life: a place where individuals and families can encounter Jewish ideas, principles, practices, and values; where they encounter Israel and explore the ideal of Jewish peoplehood in their lives; and a public square for convening important conversations both within the Jewish and among the broader community.

The JCC aspires to be a welcoming environment dedicated to Jewish living and learning. It does not separate living from learning: they are one and the same. It also does not specify the end product of any inquiry. Rather, it trusts the learning process to yield an outcome in its own time. The JCC does not prescribe a specific way of living Jewishly, nor does it privilege a particular domain of Jewish endeavor over another; rather, it helps individuals identify what being Jewish means to them and encourages them to act upon that meaning in their daily lives. The JCC’s educational vision is action oriented.

The educational philosopher David Hansen distinguishes between traditionalism, which seeks to preserve the past intact, and respect for tradition, which honors cultural history while recognizing nothing stays the same forever. Adherents to traditionalism react to change impulsively and without thought. Those with respect for tradition respond to change deliberately and with consideration. Traditionalism assumes we already know the answers. Respect for tradition means we are permitted to ask questions about those answers. Traditionalism assumes the expression of values remains fixed. Respect for tradition recognizes the relevance of deep, guiding values even while the expression of those values may change over time. Distinguishing between traditionalism and respect for tradition brings into focus one of the JCC’s goals for Jewish education, which is to help individuals find answers to the timeless questions: where do I come from and where am I going?

Navigating the tension between past and future and between old and new requires a home base that offers a sense of stability and security. A sense of rootedness provides a firm foundation for looking backward and forward. And as it was for avraham avinu (Abraham, our father), the journey away from home is external and spatial, as well as internal and psychological. It forces a constant examination of not only the things that are global, new, and different, but also those that are local, old, and familiar. It recognizes that one influences the other. The ability to respond, rather than react, to the past and the future is what Hansen calls a “cosmopolitan attitude,” which manifests in a reflective loyalty to the local and old, alongside a reflective openness to the global and new.

The JCC is what Hansen calls a canopy of cosmopolitanism, a sheltered environment dedicated to bringing the past and future, along with the local and the global, into meaningful dialogue within the present. The diversity within the group (which is a social manifestation of the diversity (read: inconsistency) within each of us becomes a strength to build upon. As individuals learn to appreciate the differences in beliefs and practices between them, they also learn how their distinctiveness binds them together. The group, not the JCC, is the source of this learning. The relationships between the individuals power that learning. And as a group, they can venture further afield than they could as individuals.

The JCC’s educational vision is shaped by its understanding of God’s command to Abraham, “Be a blessing” (Gen. 12:2). This imperative transcends ideological, theological, and behavioral divides, and can be expressed in many ways. But it does define a thriving life as one committed to and engaged with the larger world. So, when the JCC reinforces the stability of the home base, it does so to empower individuals to travel into the world and make a difference.

The JCC can only structure the living and learning activities it offers; it is always the individual who determines those activities’ meanings. So, the JCC can never predict the direction an individual will go. But it doesn’t need to. The JCC’s model for a thriving life derives from Ben Zoma’s cosmopolitan attitude: “Who is wise? The one who learns from everyone” (Pirkei Avot 4:1).

Dr. David Ackerman is the director of the JCC Association’s Mandel Center for Jewish Education.

Modern moral philosophy is inhospitable to the notion of Jewish ethics. However, the recent rediscovery of virtue ethics provides opportunities for the development of a specifically Jewish approach to living the good life. While this opportunity is already being developed in academic studies of Jewish ethics, its most important contribution remains to be achieved in Jewish education. For, from this perspective, Jewish education should aim to identify and cultivate dispositions and practices for today that are essential for human flourishing.

Ethics is the answer to the question, “What ought I do?” Kantianism and Utilitarianism are the two major schools of modern philosophy that try to answer this question. They differ in fundamental ways: While Kantianism focuses on whether an action complies with moral duty, Utilitarianism concentrates on an action’s consequences. They agree, however, in their abstract universalism. Kantianism holds that morality provides a formal standard by which every action can be judged. Utilitarianism maintains that the morality of every action can be calculated by the quantity and quality of generic pleasure or pain that it produces. In both cases, the very idea of a Jewish ethics is ruled out from the start due to its particularity. It is not clear how it can be both “ethics” and “Jewish,” for either it imposes peculiar obligations on only a subset of humanity or it merely provides a specific means for attaining ends that are achievable in many different ways. But this is not just a problem for Judaism. In both cases, morality is extracted from the entirety of the individual’s life, not to mention the web of interpersonal relationships and skein of culture and history in which he/she finds himself/herself.

In After Virtue, Alasdair MacIntyre rejects the abstraction and universalism of modern moral philosophy in favor of a return to the virtue ethics of classical and medieval thinkers. Chiefly associated with Aristotle but continued by Thomas Aquinas and even preserved in modernity by Jane Austen and Benjamin Franklin, virtue ethics takes a broader view of human life and the role of morality within it.  MacIntyre focuses on the development of a person’s virtues, that is, dispositions to feel and to act in certain ways throughout one’s life. While they are the possession of an individual, virtues are acquired in the context of practices that are shared with others. In fact, the practices and the virtues are mutually constituting, in the sense that the virtue cannot be acquired outside of the practice and the practice cannot be enacted without the virtue. Virtues are thus always particular to the practices in which they are embedded. Nevertheless, after their cultivation within a specific set of practices, virtues can be generalized and applied to new practices.

Indeed, practices and virtues are not static. Over the course of time, new interpretations of the virtue or the practice can be offered that transform them both. These interpretations, though, always make reference to how the practice has been performed and to how the virtue has been embodied previously. Reflection on practices and virtues thus always take place within a tradition shared with others both in the past and present. Lastly, if an individual’s life is not to decompose into unrelated practices that inculcate virtues that are indifferent at best and antithetical at worst to each other, they must be interpreted in the context of an image of a whole human life. This image structures the practices into an existential project and integrates the virtues into an ideal character. It is best represented, not by a standard or calculus, but by imagined or actual exemplars—individuals who have achieved the good life.

MacIntyre’s virtue ethics enables the reclamation of Jewish ethics in modernity. To start, it allows an appreciation of Jewish thinkers of the past who thought within this paradigm. Moses Maimonides, who, as is well known, was strongly influenced by Aristotle, presents a virtue ethics, which he connects with an account of the commandments and a theology. Presenting the main insight of this approach, in Eight Chapters, he writes, “Know, moreover, that these moral excellences or defects cannot be acquired . . . except by means of the frequent repetition of acts resulting from these qualities, which, practiced during a long period of time, accustoms us to them.” Virtues, dispositions to act and to feel, are inculcated through repeated performance of actions until they become acquired elements of one’s character. The commandments, in Maimonides’ view, are practices for the “the discipline and guidance of the faculties of the soul.” And though he does not make it explicit, such commandments and their virtues are surely understood by Maimonides as enacted within a community and interpreted within a tradition. The ultimate purpose of Maimonides’s virtue ethics is not bound by a tradition and community, however. In imagining one’s practices and virtues cohering into a whole life, one’s exemplar should be God. For, if one fully develops the virtues, one “will reach the highest degree of perfection possible to a human being, thereby approaching God, and sharing in God’s happiness.”

Maimonides illustrates this approach in his commentary on Ethics of our Fathers (3:15), which states, “Everything is according to the multitude of the deed.” Maimonides takes this claim to mean that quantity matters more than quality in the development of the virtues. He considers the question of whether it is better to divide one’s charitable giving among many different individuals or to give a single large sum to a single individual. One could imagine how a Kantian or a Utilitarian would analyze this question. The Kantian would examine it in terms of one’s general obligation to give charity to those in need. The Utilitarian would calculate what would maximize the general happiness and minimize the general pain. Maimonides, in contrast, approaches the question from the perspective of which alternative would best cultivate the virtue of generosity and decides that repeated instances of giving would be most effective in establishing a generous disposition.

Elsewhere Maimonides integrates the virtue of generosity into an account of flourishing that includes Jewish ritual and theology. In discussing how one should apportion one’s spending to fulfill the commandments of Purim, he writes, “It is preferable to spend more on gifts to the poor than on the Purim meal or on presents to friends. For no joy is greater or more glorious than the joy of gladdening the hearts of the poor, the orphans, the widows and the strangers. Indeed, he who causes the hearts of these unfortunates to rejoice emulates the Divine Presence” (Mishneh Torah, “Laws of Purim and Hanukkah,” 2:17). Fulfilling the commandment of matanot le-’evyonim (gifts to the poor) and even prioritizing it over other commandments both expresses and fosters the virtue of generosity. Moreover, in Maimonides’ view, this virtue is central to human flourishing. Generosity enables an individual to achieve divine joy. 

While Maimonides is an example of medieval Jewish virtues ethics, it is not clear that he can serve as a direct model for today. Despite his incisive and inspiring analysis of generosity, patriarchy and elitism pervade other aspects of his thought. Further, the medieval kehillah and the unquestioned authority of mesorah in which he lived and thought has given way to looser Jewish communal structures and personalized Jewish commitments. Nevertheless, the basic structure that he describes remains relevant: Judaism as a tradition of cultivating virtues and pursuing human flourishing within a communally shared practice of commandments, whether they are understood as divinely revealed or socially constructed. The particular virtues and thus the image of human flourishing, however, remain to be developed by present-day Jews and Jewish communities. Certainly, for such flourishing and its constitutive virtues to be Jewish, it must emerge out of interpretation of the Jewish tradition. But, like all interpretation, it will be performed here and now in view of the contemporary Jewish experience, which includes being enmeshed within other moral traditions and social relationships.

While synagogues and Jewish centers should play a role in developing and fostering a modern Jewish virtue ethics, institutions of Jewish education are indispensable. This is primarily because they are already doing it to a certain extent. In addition to conveying the content of Jewish texts to students and familiarizing them with Jewish ritual, Jewish education also fosters ways of treating others and of orienting one’s life. Often this is understood under the rubric of “Jewish values” as teaching abstract ideas like tzedek, ḥesed, and ’emet. But, in practice, this should mean modeling and reinforcing through action embodied ways of acting with justice, kindness, and truthfulness, that is, through cultivating dispositions. Jewish practices, like daily tefillah, matanot le-’evyonim on Purim, or even confessions of viddui, inculcate these virtues and many others.

What is lacking is a clear vision of how various Jewish virtues like these coalesce into a complete Jewish life. This can be accomplished, not through historical research, theological reflection, or mission statements, but through vividly describing or imaginatively projecting those persons who manifested those virtues and integrated them in the lives that they lived. With such exemplars in mind, Jewish educators have the unique opportunity to specify their implicit conception of human flourishing, refine their practices to cultivate the virtues it entails, and develop a Jewish virtue ethics for our time.

Dr. Yonatan Y. Brafman is assistant professor of Jewish Thought and Ethics, as well as the director of the MA program in Jewish Ethics at JTS.

There is no shortage of terms for education in the intra- and interpersonal domains. Character education. Moral education. Education for ethics. Whole child. Social-emotional learning (SEL). Values or Middot. Identity. Meaning and purpose. Spiritual development. Positive psychology and Thriving. While there is a place for delving into differences, I suggest that there are areas in which these approaches intersect in ways that either reinforce or complement one another.

What is my rationale for this? To paraphrase a quote that I have heard attributed to both James Comer and Seymour Sarason (if anyone has an original citation, please let me know!), we don’t teach character education (or moral education or values or SEL, etc.), we teach children (or adolescents or adults, etc.). That is, the real lived experience of an individual cannot meaningfully be subdivided into the categories we’ve established to frame our work.

In considering the actual experience of the learner, I find it helpful to think of a number of intersecting elements. While some of these might be more strongly associated with one or another of the subfields of intra- and interpersonal education, I believe it is important to see these as intersecting in the lives of individuals.

A Substrate of Social and Emotional Skills

A comprehensive list of skills that comprise social and emotional functioning would be lengthy, yet it is possible to speak about broad categories such as those iterated by the Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional Learning (CASEL). This list includes self-awareness (e.g., recognizing one’s emotions in a given situation); self-management (e.g., managing stress; staying motivated toward a goal); social awareness (e.g., empathy and perspective taking; reading social cues); relationship skills (e.g., communication skills); and responsible problem solving. As CASEL states on its website: Self-awareness is “the ability to make constructive choices about personal behavior and social interactions based on ethical standards, safety concerns, and social norms.” Realistic decision-making is “the realistic evaluation of consequences of various actions, and a consideration of the well-being of oneself and others.”

A Framework of Values

One might use appropriate skills for inappropriate ends. “Please hand me that pencil” can be followed by “so I can finish my assignment” or “so I can throw it at Yossi.” Values, such as the middot that are part of the resurgent Mussar movement, provide the prescriptive framework for the pro-social uses of these skills. The value of kavod (respect or honor), for example, adds that not only must the skills of “polite requests” be implemented, but also that they be used for the benefit and not the harm of others. At the same time, the skills are the substrate for the enactment of values. Though one might intend to show kavod, a demand of “Gimme!!” would not be taken as such.

Taking Action

Values are strongly linked to social and emotional competencies. In fact, putting values into action often involves using multiple skills in unison, and value-laden situations are, in turn, opportunities to hone social and emotional skills. This applies to even the most seemingly basic cases; asking for a pencil with kavod requires an array of social skills such as choosing the right words and tone of voice, gauging the emotional state of the pencil-possessor to ascertain, among other things, “Is this a good time or does that person seem to want to be left alone?” and “Am I asking for something that the other person may not want to part with?” One needs to control impulses and not grab the pencil or not ask for it if the time is not right.

Welcome to the real world. We all face circumstances in which it is particularly difficult to enact values. In fact, one can say that the Jewish tradition flags some notably challenging situations, making them a part of Jewish practice and thus integral for us to teach as part of one’s Jewish education. Think about bikkur holim (visiting the sick), hachnasat orchim (welcoming guests), and kibbud av va’em (respecting parents). In real life, enactment of these practices may involve emotional triggers (our own sadness about a loved one’s illness or the intensity of emotions that characterize parent-child relationships).

Even adults confront situations in which the way to enact values is unclear (e.g., might there be situations in which showing kavod might actually entail refraining from visiting a sick person?), and those in which values conflict (e.g., should we demonstrate achrayut, responsibility, and intervene in an argument, or use savlanut, patience, and hold back?). As such, we can’t show learners the “right way” to handle complex situations. What we can do is scaffold a framework for approaching such situations—considering the values at play and the emotional dimensions involved, planning proactively for social interactions and anticipation of roadblocks to our best intentions, and reflecting afterward to consider how things went.

Integration with Self and Beyond

The exercise of values-guided social and emotional skills and behaviors sometimes seems to run counter to cultural norms. Actions marked by impulsivity and lack of interpersonal consideration may be easier than value- and empathy-driven behavior. To hold fast to this mode of being, one must really value values-guided action in the world. Such behavior would go beyond “what I do” to become part of “who I am.” While this (and the rest) is of course a lifelong process because our identity continually evolves, Jewish educators can promote reflection that allows learners to place their actions in the context of their developmental narratives, which allows them to thrive both within the self and in an interpersonal context. Indeed, this process cannot start and end with “self.” Educational settings are natural places to both develop a sense of community and a sense that having a community is important, as well as how one can act to enhance the overall functioning of that community. One should come to feel connected to something beyond one’s self.

Conclusion

How do we foster growth in values-guided, socially skilled, self-integrated, community-enhancing behavior? Certainly a subject for another essay (or series of essays). For now, two thoughts. First, we aren’t starting from scratch. There are longstanding, research-validated efforts that can inform our work. Second, the best framework for this work may not be teaching or educating. Instead, consider parallels to coaching: When one works intensely with a coach to learn a sport or craft, the goal is a holistic one. Action, abilities, and guiding values must come together; skills, an understanding of how to put them into action, and the ability to actually put them into action under stressful situations are all intertwined. As is, ultimately, a sense that the sport or craft is central to how one defines one’s self, and one’s responsibility to the team. Good coaches motivate, model, and promote practice and reflection, and they always remember that the players and the situations in which they find themselves are constantly evolving.

Dr. Jeffrey S. Kress is the Bernard Heller Associate Professor of Jewish Education and director of the Research Center at the Leadership Commons of the William Davidson Graduate School of Jewish Education of The Jewish Theological Seminary.