Jewish Olympians (Temple Beth Or)
The Babylonian Talmud (in tractate Bava Metzia) tells of how two famous rabbis, Rabbi Yochanan and Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish (more commonly known as “Reish Lakish”), first met. At the time, Reish Lakish was not yet a rabbi- he had been a brigand in his youth, and was as of this time still unconcerned with learning Torah. The scene begins as Reish Lakish spies Rabbi Yochanan—a famously handsome man—swimming in the Jordan River. Seeing Rabbi Yochanan, Reish Lakish leaps into the river after him. Rabbi Yochanan, having just watched this remarkable athletic feat, remarks to Reish Lakish: “Your strength is meant for Torah!” Reish Lakish does not miss a beat in responding, and says: “Your beauty is meant for women!” From this introduction, it is not long before the two men become close rabbinic peers: Rabbi Yochanan convinces Reish Lakish to devote his energy to study, and Reish Lakish becomes Rabbi Yochanan’s brother-in-law when the former marries the latter’s sister. Rabbi Yochanan’s comment, cheylach l’or-aitah—“Your strength is meant for Torah—resonates with much of Judaism’s approach to a person’s pursuits: It may be permissible to work to be physically fit, but it is far preferable to be “intellectually fit.”
With this story in mind, I cannot help but wonder how early Jewish tradition would deal with the reality of Jewish Olympians such as Aly Raisman, Or Sasson, or Yarden Gerbi being so prominently celebrated in the recent Summer Olympics. Should we feel that, even though these men and women may be physical inspirations, they should not be hailed as major successes as Jews qua Jews? Put another way: How should we feel about Jewish Olympians: Are they impressive Olympians who just happen to be Jewish, or are they—by virtue of their success in an exciting, high-profile arena—paradigms of how to successfully be a Jew?
The Talmudic model seems to give a relatively simple answer: Impressive Olympians though they may be, these people are not automatically deemed model Jews. Nonetheless, I suspect that most people who are Jewish, watching Raisman perform an outstanding gymnastics floor routine to Hava Nagila, feel some measure of pride- pride to see a Jew succeeding in such a spectacular way, so visibly, and perhaps also pride to know that an element of our Jewish story—even if only a piece of music—is being told on the world stage.
Though at odds with what we see here in the Talmud, pride such as this fits perfectly well with other models of Jewish life; the pride I take in these individuals especially reminds me of an idea espoused by a late 20th century Jewish thinker, Max Nordau. Nordau, a prominent Zionist and co-founder (along with Theodor Herzl) of the World Zionist Organization, pioneered an idea he called Muscle-Judaism. With this concept, he argued that Jews ought to work to undermine long-established anti-Jewish stereotypes of Jews being feeble and overly concerned with studying. According to Nordau, the “New Jew” would be everything the “Old Jew” had failed to be: He would be connected with worldly pursuits, meaningfully intelligible to the greater world (and parochially interested in only particular, Jewish questions), and most importantly strong, vital, and vibrant. The New Jew, wrote Nordau, would leave no question in the minds of non-Jews that Jews were in control of their own destiny; the New Jew would be something Jews everywhere could be proud of.
Watching the Olympics—or even watching football and casually wondering whether a player’s last name might hint that he is Jewish—can, it seems, be an edifying Jewish activity. As a Jewish people, I would argue that we should feel pride in any Jewish individual who shows excellence in his or her craft. There may, indeed, be many paths to become an inspiring Jew.