5 min read
When David Cameron spoke at The Conservative Friends of Israel lunch recently, he made a speech that should make all of us Jews proud. He spoke about the "Big Society" and how "Jewish communities have been putting it into practice for centuries."
The Prime Minister was right, and I've no doubt that his Big Society mantra and his vision of stronger communities will be a central element of the long election campaign in which we are currently immersed.
We represent only a tiny part of the British population and yet our small society has always been big on caring about each other. Education, health, welfare, security, the arts - our small Anglo-Jewish community has put together some of the most well respected organisations in the country.
Almost five years ago, having spent more than a decade as a journalist for national newspapers, I became involved in Jewish Care, an organisation that Cameron glowingly spoke about in his speech.
Leaving behind the headlines and the egos, I have no doubt that my greatest achievements have been the simplest. My family and my work with the community.
During my career as a Fleet Street hack, I will never forget the thrill of seeing my first front-page byline - but the buzz was fleeting and it was quickly on to the next investigation, the next adventure. After all, you are only as good as your next story. It was not unusual to see grown men slumped at their desk - beaten and destroyed by the constant abuse of their news editors. The pressures of getting a story became so intense that reporters would do anything for a lead. Sadly some of my colleagues are now paying the price for selling their souls.
I remember wondering who would be my role model - and realising that most of my colleagues had given up a huge part of themselves in their quest to achieve journalistic success. That was when the dream ended for me. Yes, it was wonderful to have had a wealth of incredible experiences but I remember thinking that working in a restaurant would be a purer and cleaner way to earn a living.
But, as any mother knows, the greatest job comes with raising a family. Politicians have always talked about "family values", understanding that families create stronger societies. It is the essential building block of our community and Jewish families are often considered strong and supportive.
Education, too, is incredibly important. Most of us are members of a synagogue and we celebrate births, bar- and batmitzvahs, and weddings alongside our local communities. Our synagogues send out death notices so that everyone in the local community has a chance to comfort the bereaved. The synagogue is the connector of families, creating friends and relationships, among those who share the same ethics and morality.
We understand that we all have a role to play within the community. "I'm a good person, I don't hurt anyone" is not the Jewish understanding of "good." Being a good person requires us to take action, not just avoid evil.
The message that Judaism teaches is that you are responsible for the world. The Talmud teaches that every person must say to him- or herself: "The world was created for me," not as a statement of ultimate self-centeredness, rather out of a sense of unique responsibility for the world. "This is my world and I'm its caretaker. If there's a problem, I've got to do something about it."
The reason Jewish community organisations have been so successful is because they have been able to use the energy and support of the wider Jewish community in order to deliver important social objectives.
When I first stumbled upon Jewish Care, I never could have imagined the impact that it would have on my life. Seeing first-hand the challenges faced by an ever increasing, ageing population and how the professionals, lay teams and volunteers come together to provide the best quality services, has been such an eye-opener. I am constantly in awe of how this complex organisation has evolved and how it quite simply showcases the best of Jewish values on so many levels. No wonder it has inspired the most powerful politician in the country.
Recognising problems that our ageing population will face, and taking responsibility to deal with it. Planning for the future to ensure that essential services will be provided to help support people and their families to live more meaningful lives. These are its hallmarks.
It's no surprise then that the government wants to emulate what we as a community naturally do. It is no surprise that politicians take notes from our small society and consistently try to emulate it, turning the framework of our small community into the blueprint of the Big Society.
We live in a society that champions celebrity not community. One where we know the names of random "personalities" but not of our neighbours. Where a carer gets paid the minimum wage and a celebrity gets a fortune to starve in the jungle. Yet fame and big bucks don't fill the soul - often they drain it. It is no surprise that Angelina Jolie has more respect as a humanitarian than an actress. Hollywood's adulation might have changed her life but her work with UN has changed lives.
Money, power, fame can all be taken away. Being part of a community gives you a sense of belonging and self-worth. Ironically, "selfie" is now a word that is part of the vernacular, yet selfish is the attitude that we appear to be peddling. A society that values the shallow celebrity as aspirational appears to have no time for the true heroes of our community.
As our former Chief Rabbi Lord Sacks so aptly put it: "In the endless competition between our selfish genes and our group instincts, self has been winning."
The problem is that when we lose the ties that bind us as humans to one another, we are left frightened and alone - with no depth or sense of purpose. Kindness has fallen out of fashion. It is unusual to hear people discussing the importance of simply being kind. We Jews have a word for it: chesed.
Last month, another Cameron made the news pages. Luke Cameron - no relation - decided at the start of 2014 to do a good deed every day for a year, such as making dinner for his family or buying a bunch of flowers for a friend down on their luck.
His selfless acts are to be applauded and yet the fact that this has made him big news and earned him a job as National Philanthropy Manager is slightly depressing. More depressing is the number of internet trolls intent on destroying him.
During Mitzvah Day earlier this year, a friend of mine came across a homeless Jewish woman who was helping to pack boxes at the local synagogue. While my friend is familiar with the homeless problem in London, she was astounded that someone from own community was left alone, cold and frightened on the streets.
She made it a priority to help get her off the streets and, after more than five weeks of trying, she has finally found her a flat and the right community support to get her back on her feet.
One person, with no fanfare or headlines, helping another when they needed it most.
In our community, we have a wealth of communal and care organisations but we don't refer to them as the "third sector" - the term used by wider society.
We understand that this sector, which employs thousands, engages so many and helps to enhance lives, is no third-place runner up. So we as a community should be proud when our Prime Minister admits that: "Wherever I see problems in society, I see the Jewish community: a companion, raising those who fall."
And we ourselves should not be so quick to judge, to be negative and allow the egos to take over.
Fresh from lighting our menorahs and celebrating Chanucah, we should be grateful to be part of a country that applauds the way in which our community chooses to look after its members.
Yet we must recognise that we still have work to do. Where we can bring light to one life - it is not simply a mitzvah but part of our DNA.