People sometimes use the words spirituality and religion interchangeably. The words are worlds apart.
Spirituality implies seeking a deep, individual connection with God. People who say they are “spiritual, but not religious” practice yoga and meditation, but who would not be caught dead in a synagogue.
Religion, by contrast, argues for the power of connection in community. There is strength and power in a crowd: Jews pray in a minyan. Attending a baseball game can be a “religious experience.” There is something deeply meaningful about tens of thousands of people uniting in common purpose in the same place.
For a long time, spirituality was seen as a threat to religion. In the twenty-first century, for people to feel connected to God, we need a healthy dose of both. If you are too spiritual you are selfish: too religious, you are neglectful of the personal. We cannot live lives that are completely dedicated to the community, nor should we live lives that are completely in pursuit of cultivating our own individuality.
COVID was an interesting test case. In a time of overwhelming pressure to act communally for the sake of humanity, we also saw shocking assertions of overwhelming egocentrism. Upon reflection, however, this should hardly be surprising. It’s not healthy to take away a person’s ability to act as a sovereign self, even in a moment of crisis.
On the contrary, we also saw people completely buck community in favor of their personal needs. There is a great danger in this approach. The sage Hillel famously asks: Im Ani Rak Le-Atzmi, Ma Li: “If I am only for myself, what am I?” (or, loosely translated, “What have I become?”).
As Jews, our relationship with God ought not be a binary choice. We can pursue deep, intense, meaningful connections with God for ourselves. We can also work as a community to try and build a better world.
