It is no secret that Judaism draws a sharp distinction between the people of Israel and other nations. Every Saturday night, during the ceremony of havdalah (literally, “separation”), we even bless God for “distinguishing between Israel and the nations.”
Why is it so vital for Judaism to maintain such a distinction from other nations and their cultures? Why do Jews strictly avoid intermarriage, limit cultural assimilation, and uphold rigorous conversion standards?
This question lies at the very heart of Jewish identity. Moreover, it directly impacts our lives today, shaping many of the disputes and divisions within Israeli society regarding the character of the State of Israel. Addressing this issue from the perspective of the inner dimensions of Torah—Kabbalah and Chasidut—is therefore of central importance.
Submission, Separation, and Sweetening
When approaching the topic of Israel’s distinction from other nations from the perspective of Chassidic teachings, the first concept to grasp is that the very word used for “distinction,” havdalah, forms the central stage in the fundamental triad of concepts introduced by the Baal Shem Tov, called “submission” (hachna’ah), “separation” (havdalah), and “sweetening” (hamtakah).
According to the Baal Shem Tov, every complete spiritual process must follow these three stages. One must first practice “submission” (humble themselves, curb their pride, and acknowledge their limitations). That should be followed by “separation” (self-refinement and separation from negative traits). Finally, the process should lead to a sense of “sweetening” (the attainment of personal wholeness and self-expression).
These concepts suggest that the Jewish people’s separation from the other nations is not an isolated phenomenon, but part of a broader process. It should be preceded by a certain “submission” with regard to our approach to other nations, and lead to a certain “sweetening” in our relationship with them. It is impossible to fully appreciate what appears to be the Jewish tendency for isolationism without appreciating it as a particular stage in a much wider developmental process.
Let us now examine how the three stages of submission, separation, and sweetening can be understood in the context of our relationship with other nations.
Submission: Equality Before God
In the context of the relations between the Jewish people and the nations of the world, submission means acknowledging the fundamental equality between Israel and the other nations.
All human beings are created by the same Creator. All our virtues and talents were granted to us from Him, and we are all entirely dependent on Him for our existence and sustenance. When we come to appreciate this, we realize we are all equal in the eyes of God. Furthermore, since God is perfect and infinite, any distinctions in greatness or spiritual rank between us are cancelled by the fact that we are infinitely distant from Him (i.e., equally infinitely distant from perfection). God is “everything” and before Him, all of us are “as nothing.”
In fact, this sense of humility extends beyond our relationship with the rest of humanity and must govern our interactions with all of creation. In the words attributed to the Baal Shem Tov,
Do not say in your heart that you are greater than your fellow... Recognize that you are like all other creatures, created solely to serve the Creator. How are you superior to a worm? It serves its Creator to the best of its abilities, while you, like a worm, are but dust and ashes. Were it not for the intellect that God granted you, you would be no better than a worm. Therefore, even compared to a worm you hold no inherent superiority, let alone compared to other people. Contemplate that you, the worm, and all creatures are friends in Creation. None possess power or merit beyond what the Creator has granted them, and this awareness must remain with you always.
This perspective provides the foundational attitude necessary for healthy relationships with others, including the Jewish people’s relationship with the rest of humanity. It is the starting point for all distinctions and separations that follow. Even when God took the Jewish people out of Egypt—marking the beginning of our separation into a unique nation—this act was described as, “taking one nation out of another nation.”
Israel was initially a nation like all others. Only after acknowledging this equality, could they be elevated to the status of a “holy nation.”
Acknowledging this equality is not only about accepting a profound truth. It also serves as a safeguard, preventing the idea of separation from becoming a tool for condescension, hatred, or oppression.
It is important to emphasize that genuine equality is only possible within the framework of faith in an infinite Creator before whom all are equal. Without this foundation, there is no compelling reason to assume equality among beings, and any social or political ideal of equality becomes an artificial construct imposed on reality, one that will eventually fail and be rejected.
Separation: Israel’s Chosenness
Building on the humble acknowledgment of the equality of all Creation, we can explore the concept of separation between Israel and the nations. This separation is rooted in the belief that the Jewish people were chosen to receive the most complete revelation of Divine wisdom, the Torah, and to use it to sanctify and perfect all of existence, transforming it into a vessel for the Divine Presence. On a personal and collective level, this distinction represents our commitment to align with the Creator, whom we humbly acknowledged in the previous stage, and to approach reality as His emissaries.
The principle of Israel’s chosenness is so fundamental to Judaism that it is impossible to truly understand it without it. Even those seeking universal lessons from Judaism (a subject discussed in the third stage below) must grapple with this concept and its necessity. Why couldn’t the Torah be given to the entire world? Alternatively, why couldn’t it have been given to the Jewish people, but without so strongly distinguishing them from other nations?
A helpful analogy for understanding the need for distinction can be found in nature, in the transition from the realm of the chemical to that of the biological. This transition hinges on a simple yet profound feature: the membrane. The membrane, which encloses and separates a living cell from its environment, provides the protective conditions necessary for the complex processes occurring within. Without this boundary, biological activity would dissolve and disappear into the surrounding chemical environment.
Similarly, every leap to a higher level of organization in nature requires a form of separation that enables new complexities to emerge. Human society, for instance, must distance itself from untamed nature to establish civilizations—protected spaces where higher pursuits, such as art and philosophy, can flourish.
The Torah’s purpose is to foster a similar leap, this time not from survival to civilization but from civilization to a culture of faith—a life lived in awareness of the Divine reality underlying creation, where every detail of existence is shaped by its connection to that reality. Like all other leaps, this leap too involves an increase in complexity, this time the cultivation of a higher state of consciousness. Those familiar with Torah study will recognize that it demands constant refinement of thought, challenging ordinary concepts and categories. Good and evil, beauty and ugliness, material and spiritual, fate and free will, logic and paradox—regarding all these and more, the Torah requires its students to “leap” to a whole new level of thinking.
To facilitate this leap, a kind of “membrane” is necessary—a protective boundary that allows the unique organism that is Jewish thought and life to grow and thrive. Like a delicate house of cards that can only be built in a sheltered space, Torah study and the cultivation of a life of faith require relatively insulated conditions to flourish. Assimilation threatens to blend the Torah with general human culture, thereby erasing or obscuring its unique message.
To delve more deeply into the need for insulation, let us look at one of the Torah’s synonyms for separation, haflayah (הַ פְ לָ יָה). This verb first appears at the peak of Israel’s separation from the nations—during the plagues of Egypt. Three of the four times it appears in the Torah occur in this narrative. When God distinguishes the land of Goshen from the rest of Egypt during the plague of wild beasts, separates Israel’s livestock from Egypt’s during the plague of pestilence, and spares the firstborn of Israel during the plague of the firstborn, the Torah uses the verb haflayah.
The root of haflayah (פלה), is closely related to the root of “wonder” (פלא). This connection suggests that the distinction of Israel is meant to nurture a hidden wonder—a unique form of life and consciousness that can be recognized (eventually) as wondrous. Indeed, the verses describing this separation don’t emphasize Egypt’s suffering but rather Israel’s preservation: the primary purpose of haflayah is not to negate the other but to protect what lies within.
Many struggle to accept the idea of chosenness, largely out of fear that it could lead to national condescension, claims of superiority over other nations. This concern is valid, and that’s why the submission stage is a crucial reminder that Israel’s chosenness must rest on a foundation of equality.
However, just as submission is extreme in nature (“What makes me greater than a worm?”), so too must the separation be. It is a radical separation designed to cultivate a fundamentally different consciousness from that of other nations. The Torah aims to embed the infinite Divine within finite human life, a task requiring the creation of a sacred space, quite distinct from general culture.
When built upon submission, separation becomes a source not of pride but of profound responsibility. A key passage in the Torah expresses this idea: “For you are a holy people to Havayah your God; Havayah your God has chosen you to be His treasured nation from among all peoples on the face of the earth. It was not because you were more numerous than all the peoples that Havayah desired and chose you, for you are the least of peoples.”
The sages interpret “the least of peoples” to mean “you make yourselves least [i.e. you humble yourselves] before others.” The less we feel entitled to chosenness, the more we become worthy of it.
Sweetening: Mutual Enrichment
We finally arrive at the third stage, sweetening, which reveals a profound insight: the separation of Israel from the nations is only an intermediate step leading to the ultimate purpose—the creation of a harmonious relationship between Israel and the nations.
Sweetening always brings a process full circle, reconnecting with the humility inherent in the first stage of submission. In this context, it means reestablishing an equal and reciprocal relationship between the Jewish people and the nations, now enriched by virtue of the separation which the previous stage established.
The sweetening stage represents Judaism’s Messianic vision, where Israel inspires the nations with the light of Torah, while simultaneously learning from the wisdom of the nations.
The prophets spoke extensively about this: “In the days to come... many nations will go and say, ‘Let us go up to the mountain of God... that He may teach us His ways and that we may walk in His paths; for the Torah will come forth from Zion, and the word of God from Jerusalem.’” And, “I will make you a light for the nations, that My salvation may reach the ends of the earth.”
The acceptance of worldly wisdom by the Jewish people is also a theme explored in much of Jewish thought, especially certain Kabbalistic and Chasidic writings (though it is hinted at in Scripture and rabbinic literature). As explained in previous articles, the Zohar envisions a “flood” of spiritual and scientific knowledge in the Messianic era, blending the “higher wisdom” of the Torah with the “lower wisdom” of human innovation. Chasidic thought elaborates that integrating science and art with Torah reveals the “primordial Torah” that predates creation and forms an essential part of the redemptive vision.
This mutual enrichment requires separation. Only when Torah and other wisdoms are clearly differentiated can their unique contributions be recognized and integrated. The clearer the distinction, the greater the motivation for mutual exchange. The same goes for the opposite: When the separation is blurred the result may be indifferent coexistence, where each side seeks neither to influence the other nor to learn from them.
This mutual enrichment sweetens the bitterness that accompanied separation. While some relish the separation stage, others feel uncomfortable with it and yearn for the harmony of sweetening. The challenge today is to bridge the gap between these perspectives. May this exploration contribute to uniting these visions, helping us see that the Torah’s ultimate plan encompasses and fulfills the hopes of all its seekers.
