I would like to begin with a question. Why do so many Israeli Jews who identify as secular still fast on Yom Kippur, still feel a deep attachment to the Jewish people, and still pass that identity to their children, without campaigns, without membership drives, without constant concern about “continuity?” I am talking about secular Jews, so the answer is not that they are more religious.

Decades of survey data from the Israel Democracy Institute show that a majority of Israeli Jews who call themselves secular still participate in core Jewish practices, especially those tied to the calendar. The hilonim (secular Israelis) who drive on Shabbat and resist religious authority will still sit at a Seder, mark Yom Kippur in some way, and live within a recognizably Jewish rhythm of time.

They do this not because they have made a series of conscious religious commitments, but because Jewish life in Israel is built into the society itself. The calendar is Jewish, the public language is Hebrew, and national life moves to the rhythm of Jewish holidays and memory. Shared civic experiences reinforce a sense of collective story. Jewish identity is not something one has to opt into. It is there by default.

This is a fundamentally different reality from the one American Jews experience, and it is the deeper context behind everything we have been discussing in this series of blogs. The borrowed definition of Judaism as a religion, the hierarchies of authenticity we impose on one another, the Jews who feel they need to qualify their own belonging before anyone asks, these are not failures of confidence or commitment, and they are not the fault of institutions that have tried hard and cared deeply. They are the predictable result of building Jewish life inside a society that provides no ambient reinforcement for Jewish identity. When that reinforcement is absent, even the most well-intentioned institutions tend to reach for what is most measurable, which is observance, knowledge, and affiliation, because those are the tools available to them. The problem was never the effort. It was the framework we were all handed to work within.

American Jewish life is real and often vibrant, but it is entirely voluntary. It exists alongside a broader culture that is not Jewish and does not reinforce Jewish identity in any way. Everything from synagogue, school, holidays, and community itself requires an active decision. And to be clear, the surrounding culture is highly effective at drawing people into its own orbit, away from Jewish life.

In Israel, Jewish identity is reinforced by the structure of society. In America, Jewish identity is elective and must be chosen again and again. That difference matters. It explains why Israeli Jewish identity can sustain itself without constant intervention, and why American Jewish identity cannot.

But I think it also clarifies the task we must embrace. If we do not have a society that naturally reinforces Jewish life, then we have to build structures that do, and recommit to the effective structures we already have. We cannot recreate Israel. The conditions are different. But we can be far more intentional about creating more immersive Jewish environments centered around schools, camps, communities, and shared experiences that work together to form something larger than any one institution. It requires an entirely different level of cooperation and collaboration within each Jewish community.

One of the clearest frameworks I have encountered for thinking about what we are actually trying to build comes from Avraham Infeld, who describes Jewish identity as a five-legged table, resting on memory, family, covenant, Israel, and Hebrew. You do not need all five legs to stand, but you need more than one or two, because a table with only one or two legs will not hold up. In Israel, multiple legs are present almost by default, reinforced daily by the structure of society. In America, many Jews are trying to stand on one leg, sometimes two, and then wondering why identity feels fragile and why it weakens precisely at the moments when it is most needed. Building what we do not have means building more legs under more people and doing it deliberately, at scale, and with a sense of urgency.

We know what actually works. Studies consistently show that the most powerful predictor of strong adult Jewish identity is not denominational affiliation but the intensity and depth of Jewish educational experiences. This includes immersive schooling, overnight camp, and travel to Israel.  Research on Jewish day schools offers an important data point. A day school graduate raised in a minimally observant household shows dramatically stronger Jewish engagement as an adult than a peer from a similar background who attended only Hebrew school. Not because they became more observant, but because they received something more foundational, a framework, a story, and a language for belonging. Their denomination told them where to pray, or not. The framework of that more immersive experience told them who they were.

From decades of research and experience, we know what actually strengthens Jewish identity: sustained education, immersive environments, deep relationships, and a lived sense of belonging to a people and a story. This is not a mystery. What has been missing is not knowledge. It is the collective will to build, fund, and prioritize these experiences at the level required.

And the responsibility does not rest with institutions alone. It also lives with families – grandparents who tell stories and parents who make Israel a normal part of conversation. Families who create the small and consistent moments that accumulate over time into memory and connection and identity, who gather for holidays not out of obligation, but because it is simply what they do. No one can do everything. But everyone can do something, and those choices matter more than we sometimes allow ourselves to believe.

If Jewish identity in America is going to be strong, it will not happen by accident. It will happen because we decide, together, to build what we do not naturally have.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)