"Therefore you are my witnesses, says Adonai, and I am God." (Isaiah 43.12) "When you are My witnesses, I am God, but when you are not My witnesses, I am not God, if one may say such a thing." (Sifre to Deuteronomy Piska 346)
As human beings we seem to have not only a deep need to make meaning of the world, which we do through language and perception, but also a deep need to have meaning as well—to be seen in the world.
In a world that lacks proofs, we must witness God into existence. And in a world that seems large and confusing, the act of witnessing gives us the meaning that comes from being recognized by another as worthwhile.
The story of Sarai and Hagar (Genesis 16) seems a key description in our tradition of the human need we have for basic recognition, for a sense of having a life that holds meaning. Hagar, pregnant by Abram at Sarai's insistence, may now have the possiblity of an improvement in her life as a result. This threatens Sarai, who begins to treat Hagar badly, and Hagar runs away.
In some sense, Hagar flees Sarah’s presence because she is no longer ‘seen’ by her mistress; she thought her station in life would improve by carrying Abram’s child, but instead Sarai mistreats—looks down upon—her.
Hagar’s distress caused her to flee alone into the wilderness, putting her life, and that of her unborn child, at risk. Her distress was allayed only when she was seen by an angel, a messenger, who comforted her and told her she would be the mother of many. The consolation of being recognized in this way allowed Hagar to return to her mistress despite the expectation of continued harsh treatment. She had a witness to her importance as a human being, and could thus go on.
As Jews, we find our authority and authenticity through the specific local communities we join. We might accept and find acceptance in the fundamentalist principles of the haredim, agree to live by the ethical precepts of the Reform movement, or even come to understandings that appear to be almost negotiated settlements (keeping strictly kosher at home, eating fish away, for example, or driving to shul but not elsewhere on Shabbat). But whatever the parameters of behavior we adopt, the key element is that the other members of our chosen community find it acceptable, and are able to bear witness to our membership.
As we strive for pluralism, our various communities must recognize and acknowledge the validity of the others—to bear witness to the needs of other groups to be seen in the world, to have meaning, and to live with dignity. No religion is an island, and no Jew is either. Jews exist in community. And therefore, just as God cannot exist if we are not God’s witnesses, we as the variety of Jews cannot exist if we refuse to see one another. When you are my witnesses, I am a Jew. When you are not my witnesses, I am not a Jew, kivyachol--if one may say such a thing.
