Lieberman's religious fervor unsettling to some Jews

Amid feelings of pride lurk fears of bias

By Joanna Weiss, Globe Staff, 8/13/2000

he was proud and excited, of course, as Senator Joseph Lieberman stood on a Nashville podium last week, making his first official speech as the first Jewish vice-presidential candidate. But when Lieberman quoted the Scriptures and cited God repeatedly, Deborah Abner, watching from Brookline, also confessed to a nagging unease.

''I'm a firm believer in the separation of church and state,'' said Abner, 40, a Jewish mother of four. ''I thought it was a very powerful speech. But on the other hand, I was a little uncomfortable. Not because he's Jewish, but because, for me, it should be separate.''

To many Jewish Americans, that boundary is almost sacred; the line that divides personal faith from public life has often seemed not just a question of comfort, but a matter of safety. Separation of church and state is the reason Jewish people have succeeded in America, enjoying more freedoms, rights and opportunities than in nearly any other country, said Rabbi David Saperstein, director of the Washington, D.C.-based Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism.

''Religious freedom and separation of church and state,'' he said, ''are about as close to domestic survival issues for the Jewish community as you can find.''

So it is with apprehension, or at least inner conflict, that some Jewish Americans are viewing Lieberman - who has made religion a major part of his political persona. He observes the strict rules of Orthodox Judaism, and unabashedly says religious doctrines affect his ideas and values. He has said that ''we in government should look to religion as a partner, as I think the founders of our country did.''

And his first few days on the national ticket involved more open religious expression than many Christian candidates have shown. When Vice President Al Gore called to invite Lieberman onto the Democratic ticket, the first thing the Connecticut senator did was pray. In his Nashville speech, Lieberman mentioned God at least 13 times. He continued to quote from the Scriptures as the week progressed.

All of which creates a strange conflict for Abner and Nancy Friedlander, another Jewish Brookline resident. As they sat in a coffee shop last week, organizing a parent-teacher group, both said they are excited about breaking boundaries. But as parents attuned to religious diversity - they feel comfortable that their children's public school has a ''winter festival'' instead of a Christmas or Hanukkah pageant - they say they are concerned about God's encroachment on public life.

''I feel like we shouldn't be mixing politics and religion,'' said Friedlander, who said she fears religious doctrine will color Lieberman's decisions. ''That's what you don't want to see in the White House. Any fundamentalism.''

That apprehension is likely to be more common among Jews than non-Jews, said Samuel Freedman, a Columbia University journalism professor whose recent book, ''Jew vs. Jew,''explores divisions in American Jewish culture. As religion becomes an increasing part of the national conversation, he said, many Christians will admire Lieberman for his religious convictions.

But ''the vast number of Reform and Conservative Jews probably felt a real set of contradictory emotions'' over Lieberman's speech, Freedman said. ''True, true pride in Lieberman being named, but also probably a certain amount of discomfort with its overt religiosity.''

In fact, separation-of-church-and-state activists, of all denominations, are viewing the trend toward religious speech with wariness. The Rev. Barry Lynn, executive director of the Washington, D.C.-based group Americans United for Separation of Church and State, said both parties' nominees have made frequent references to God this year, something he finds inappropriate.

''We are not trying to elect the new pastor for the church or the new rabbi for the synagogue,'' said Lynn, who has been watching Lieberman's religious references with concern.

And every time candidates talk about their faith, Lynn said, it prompts more discussion of religion, and takes more of the focus away from the issues.

But in Saperstein's view, religious talk, in itself, is not the problem. Instead, he draws a distinction between professing honest faith and making statements that divide people along religious lines. Saperstein said he didn't mind when Texas Governor George W. Bush, asked in a debate to name a public figure he admired, answered, ''Jesus Christ.'' He was less fond of Bush's response when asked to elaborate for voters: ''Well, if they don't know, it's going to be hard to explain.''

So far, Lieberman ''has not crossed that line,'' said Saperstein, who saw the senator's Nashville speech as an introduction of his values and beliefs. Over the years, Saperstein said, he has found that Lieberman ''doesn't talk about his religion all that much. He lives it, and other people end up talking about it.''

Indeed, Lieberman's religious devotion has never been a secret. He is committed to the tenets of Orthodox Judaism, obeying strict dietary laws and observing the Sabbath, which forbids most work and commerce from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday. If he has to make a Senate vote on Saturday - something Jewish law allows in the interest of human life or national security - he walks to the US Capitol.

In modern Jewish culture, that in itself is a point of separation. Only about 7 percent of American Jews practice Orthodox Judaism; more than 80 percent practice Reform or Conservative Judaism, which allow far more adaptation to modern circumstances. And preferring ancient rituals to a secular lifestyle can alienate some Jews, who have chosen the other path.

Carla, 48, a Reform Jew from Brookline who sat in a Coolidge Corner bagel shop and didn't want to give her last name, said she views Orthodox Jews with a mixture of admiration, wonder, and guilt. She's uncomfortable with the restrictions Orthodox Judaism places on women; most Orthodox congregations require men and women to sit apart during services, and bar women from reading the Torah.

''It's almost like you're in the modern era, but you're back in time ... you're back to the 1900s,'' she said.

She says she's unwilling to make those sorts of sacrifices. But when she sees Orthodox Jews walking to temple on Saturdays, she said, ''I feel like such a little heathen, going out shopping. I think, `Oh God, what they must think.'''

Yet, Carla said, she respects Lieberman for adhering to his faith, despite the pressures of public life. ''I admire that he kept his religion,'' she said. ''He didn't have to really compromise.''

Indeed, some say Lieberman may represent an ultimate goal of many American Jews, a sign that achievement is possible without assimilation. Though Jews have lived in the United States since pre-Revolutionary times, the first major wave of immigration came from Eastern Europe between 1885 and 1910, said Barry Shrage, president of Combined Jewish Philanthropies of Boston. And for most of this century, Jews downplayed their differences and tried to blend into the American melting pot, in part, scholars say, in reaction to centuries of discrimination.

But since 1967 - when Israel proved its strength in the Six-Day War and multiculturalism took root across America - more Jews have been asserting their ethnicity. Shrage said Lieberman represents the next step; he doesn't just identify himself as Jewish, but has a deep understanding of Jewish customs and traditions.

Indeed, Freedman said, Lieberman might give Jews a sense of greater freedom, the idea that they can be as religious as they want without fear of repercussions.

''Why should the idea of religious belief - why should that be just conceded to the religious right?'' he said. ''That's one of the great contributions of his candidacy.''

And Lieberman's actions may prompt some Reform and Conservative Jews to delve into long-abandoned rituals, or make Judaism a more overt part of their lives, said Jonathan Sarna, a professor of American Jewish history at Brandeis University.

''He represents the ultimate synthesis of being Jewish and being American,'' Sarna said. Jews, he said, have long felt that to succeed in America, they must ''be a Jew at home, and be a person outside. Lieberman has said, `No, you actually will succeed quite well by being an integrated person, the same on the inside and the outside.'''