levite

It's not always necessarily so much whether the kind of Judaism a Jew practices is problematic or not so much as whether we can all keep playing together. The question of Jewish identity-- what is the minimum parameter we can all agree on is the definition of "us,"-- is key, because that determines whom we can marry, and whom we may call upon to act publicly as agents of our community in prayer, as witnesses in rabbinical courts, etc., all things only Jews may do.

Vis-a-vis the differences of opinion-- which can get very heated-- about how to decide the halakhic issues of our times, and how best to practice the tradition, these are important because of our covenant with God. Yes, of course non-Jews can be good people, and they can be justly rewarded for it by God. But they have different responsibilities to answer to God for. By our standards, yes, there are the seven commandments for the Children of Noah, but presuming that God makes other covenants, and establishes other relationships with other peoples, they then have to worry about those covenants, and the demands of those relationships. So if I say-- as I personally do-- that Islam is God's covenant with Muslims, then it is incumbent upon Muslims to fulfill the terms of that covenant. Or if I say that the Way taught to the Lakota by the Great Spirit is God's covenant with them, then I presume it is incumbent upon Lakota to live according to their ancient ways, in fulfillment of that relationship. But the covenant of God and Israel is Torah (in the widest sense of the meaning of the word), and that is what Jews must be responsible for. We believe that Jews are meant to be Jewish, just as other peoples are meant to be whatever they have inherited regarding their ancestral covenant or relationship with God.

The responsibilities of the covenant on Jews is not, we traditionally believe, subject to further negotiation, or to individual whim. What was accepted at Sinai was accepted for all our ages, for all our descendants, for all time to come, and we are bound by it. The binding is, some might say, comparatively loose, in that the means of executing the obligations is found in the process of halakhah, which is flexible, evolving, and renewing. Yet, like any system of laws and rules, it is dependent upon a number of things. First, that it operates according to its own rules. Radical changes and dramatic shifts can be made, but only according to the complex and sometimes slow process of the internal parameters of the halakhic system. Second, that certain basic fundamentals be accepted by all Jews. Fortunately for us (given the amount of truth in the old saying "two Jews, three opinions") the basic fundamentals are very few, and mostly constitute identity, belief in God and covenant, and a willingness to play by the rules. And third, that the system requires an educated populace dedicated to the maintenance and furtherance of the system.

To parallel American law for a moment, in other words, for American law to work, everyone has to accept the premises set forth in the Declaration of Independence; they have to accept the Constitution as binding; they have to be aware of how the American legal system works (in rough strokes, not a nation of lawyers), they have to agree to the general principles, and they have to know what the laws are, and what their options are for change if they disagree with a law. Unfortunately, while the bare minimums for participation in the American system can be met by twenty minutes quiet reading of Appendix A of any good 12th grade government textbook, and a car ride long enough to listen to the A side of Schoolhouse Rock's "Government Rock" album, the minimums for Jewish society take a little more work. But they are incumbent upon all Jews, and only upon Jews. The standard for other peoples is simply different: not better, not worse, just different.

There are, and have been, many many different beliefs in Judaism about the afterlife. And in some sense, we are all free to believe whatever we like about the afterlife, because the concerns of Judaism have always been over how we act here, in this world, in this life.

That said, there has almost always (since the inception of Rabbinic Judaism after the fall of the Second Temple) been some kind of belief in "Olam ha-Ba" that is, "The World To Come," which is more or less analogous to Heaven. There has never been any agreement as to what Olam ha-Ba is like, or what existence there offers, save that all concur that it would be very pleasant and rewarding-- much more so than this world-- and the pleasure and rewards would come both ceaselessly and without the price attached to them in this world. Eternally learning the secrets of Torah and basking in the radiance of God is a frequent postulation, although hardly the only postulation.

At various times, Jews have believed different things about the ability of non-Jews to enter Olam ha-Ba. But overarchingly through history, and certainly predominately today, the majority seem to believe that non-Jews who are of good character can and do enter Olam ha-Ba, and receive reward there. What precisely is the minimum requirement for a non-Jews entrance to Olam ha-Ba is the subject of some debate. Many have said it is obedience to the seven commandments for the Children of Noah. But many have also said it is that they demonstrated adherence to "You shall love your neighbor as yourself," together with whatever the moral imperatives of their own faith. Unsurprisingly, many Jews over the past 1000 years opined that in addition to these things, it helped if the non-Jew in question was friendly to Jews; but I personally would suppose that such a requirement would simply fall under the more overarching imperative to be kind and tolerant to all other peoples, not just the Jews.

Many have speculated a hell-place called Gehinnom, named after a valley in Jerusalem where once the Phoenician god Molekh was worshipped by the sacrifice of children; an image that was so horrible to the Rabbis of the Talmud that they apparently deemed the place worthy of representing hell on earth, as it were. It actually seems to have functioned more like purgatory: the souls of sinners were said to go there, work off their sins in various unpleasant punishments, and then, cleansed, proceed on to Olam ha-Ba. Belief in Gehinnom has never been a formal doctrine of Judaism, and historically, it has never been a popular belief, although it was widespread. Today it remains vigorous in the Orthodox communities, although in the liberal Jewish communities it is given lip service, at best, and many, if not most, do not believe in it.

But the spectrum of opinions on what may come in the afterlife is vast, and many Jews have picked and chosen and created various theories and scenarios to suit their needs and preferences. Personally, I believe that there is no Gehinnom or other hell or purgatory. I believe in what we have called the Sha'ar Ha-Gilgulim, which is to say the cycle of rebirth, or metempsychosis. That one lives in this world, dies, and one's soul is sent back to be born again, elsewhere to live another life. This goes on, I believe, until one has fulfilled one's purpose in the Divine Plan, balanced the cosmic scales for the sins one has committed, and learned the lessons one needed to know. At that point, if one wishes, one may enter Olam ha-Ba. Needless to say, this particular belief is both unorthodox and un-Orthodox.

Why? Isn't that what this thread is for?

__________________
Dull sublunary lovers love,
Whose soul is sense, cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
That thing which elemented it.

(From "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" by John Donne)