Yosi Amram
Introduction
You hear it all the time: “Jews are Chosen.” Being Jewish means inheriting a legacy of claiming (and believing) that you are one of God’s Chosen People, as the Bible is so often quoted as saying. For me, growing up in an observant household, I took this idea at face value, my adolescent mind interpreting it to mean that we were simply God’s favorite, which filled me with pride.
But, of course, there’s much more to it than that.
Now, as an adult, when I ruminate on the Jewish concept of being “chosen,” the first feelings that emerge for me are discomfort, embarrassment, and shame. It sounds elitist and supremacist to me. I worry about how it might sound to non-Jews—or anyone who might be looking for reasons to hate us, for that matter. I believe I am not alone in harboring these feelings.
Jews certainly are not the only tribe to claim chosenness or that they know best. In the cases of the Inuit indigenous people of the Arctic, the Eora Aboriginal people of Australia, the Ngäbe indigenous people, and many North American native tribes, their words for themselves in their respective languages are “the people,” with an implied meaning of “the ancestral or original people.”[1] Regarding Christians, Jesus says, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6). This is further reiterated in Acts 4:12, “And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved.” Similarly in Islam, the Quran states, “This day I have perfected for you your religion and completed My favor upon you and have approved for you Islam as religion”[2] (5:3).
Putting aside the matter of how all religions can somehow assert superiority and specialness, in this article, I’ll be focusing on how one can interpret their own belief system’s claims in a modern, spiritually intelligent context. My intent is to explore the psychospiritual impact of Jewish chosenness, offering a new outlook on the concept. This essay will draw from the Bible, but also from contemporary research, personal history, and the great thinkers of our time. My hope is that, on the other end, we might emerge with fresh perspectives on old ideas: deriving new meaning from the beliefs we were brought up with, choosing to see each and every one of us as chosen, and feeling newly inspired by the possibilities.
Duty, Suffering, and the Classic Interpretation of Chosenness
Many others have pondered what it means to be chosen, paving the way for our journey of self-discovery. The traditional rabbinic argument is that that being “chosen” is hardly a privilege, as the people of Israel are tasked with being a “light for the nations,” as it says in Isaiah 42:6, “I am the LORD; I have called you in righteousness…I will give you as a covenant for the people, a light for the nations.” Basically, being chosen does not mean kicking back and enjoying being the favorite. It is a larger responsibility that requires one to imbue one’s daily life with Godliness by following the 613 commandments—serving as a role model in spreading ethical monotheism to the world by living in “d’veikut” (Hebrew for “attachment”) and unity consciousness with the One.
None seem to argue that this task is easy or pleasurable. The prophet Isaiah (53) spoke of the suffering necessary to spread the Jewish moral monotheism to the world—as the Jews subsequently will be despised, wounded, and oppressed (Isaiah 53: 3, 5, 7). As articulated by Victor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor, “What is to give light must endure burning.”
But, even when it is framed as a duty (and not a fun one at that), saying Jews are chosen in this way still feels elitist and discriminatory to many. While monotheism has done much over history to bring morality into focus, so have many other religions and spiritual beliefs. It might feel uplifting in a way to imagine ourselves as servant leaders of God, spreading morality and righteousness to the world, but there is nothing to stop Christians, Buddhists, or Muslims from claiming the same. And hardly anyone likes to be told that others are the moral elite whose example one should follow.
If this is how you interpret your Judaism, your chosenness, I’m not looking to tell you to feel differently. But, especially in today’s times, I am not content to accept that it’s how we must see ourselves. For me, Judaism has always meant justice, righteousness, and the protection of those who have been marginalized. It has meant leadership balanced with humility. It has meant acceptance of the Other—as we are all put here by the One Creator. And it is because of those underlying feelings that I now feel so called to write—to speak out and establish this new framework.
Pride Will Be Thy Downfall
First, there is a valuable lesson to be learned in studying why so many religions and cultural traditions seem to support looking down on others. It is our fragile human ego at work. New age spirituality is not immune from these tendencies either—ironically, when I myself am able to achieve an ego-dissolving spiritual experience, my ego reconstitutes itself immediately by taking pride in my spiritual attainment. Such phenomena of spiritual materialism are all too common among modern aspirants as well.[3]
You can sense the thread of elitism in various contemporary spiritual communities and talks by “spiritual masters” advocating for non-duality and oneness. In subtle or not-so-subtle ways, their message of “our practice, our path” is implied as superior to those of others. (Perhaps you might even be sensing some of the same in this very essay, despite all my best efforts.)
And, outside religious and spiritual contexts, tribal or group membership pride seems to be a universal human phenomenon, an inclination even, as expressed by corporations, academic institutions, political parties, and even sports fans—all leading to rivalry and animosity as people regress into the similar pattern of “us versus them.” Unfortunately, we partake in these toxic identity battles while ignoring our shared belonging: we are all offspring of the One divinity and made in the image and likeness of the One. May we remember that. In doing so, we reincorporate ourselves into the shared divinity of our humanity and the inherent worth and sacredness of our lives.
Beyond Us and Them: Biblical Foundations for Universal Compassion
Despite what some may claim about Jewish chosenness (or any chosenness, for that matter), there is much in the Bible that supports the worldview that we are all One—this dissolution of the boundaries between our peoples. Proverbs 24:17-18 explicitly states, “Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and let not your heart be glad when he stumbles, lest the Lord see it and be displeased, and turn away His anger from him.” Along these lines, the Midrash (Megilla 10) states that God is in pain when the Egyptians drown during the Exodus after the parting of the sea: “The Egyptians were drowning in the sea. At the same time, the angels wanted to sing before God, and the Lord, God, said to them: ‘My creations are drowning, and you are singing before me?'” These teachings clearly emphasize a divine insistence that the suffering of any human being, even an enemy, is a cause for sorrow rather than for celebration.
And, as it says in Leviticus 19:2, “Speak to all the congregation of the people of Israel and say to them, You shall be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy.” We Jews are called to be holy in our being and embody virtues like God, who “is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The Lord is good to all, and His mercy is over all that He has made” (Psalm 145: 8-9). It is reinforced again and again that God not only made all, God is all as it says in Deuteronomy (4:35) “the Lord is God, there is none else besides Him” (Ein Od Milvado). We are part of God’s one, each of us chosen and called to serve in our own ways.
There is one more teaching in Judaism that supports this idea, often overlooked in the discussions of what it means to be Jewish. Judaism, like all religions, by nature assumes its own correctness (which many interpret as implying superiority—something to take pride in). But the Talmud (Sanhedrin 59a) also states that one need not convert to Judaism to have a share in the world to come. One only needs to abide by the Seven Noahide Laws, which represent a subset of the Ten Commandments and a much smaller subset of the 613 injunctions for observant Jews (“do not murder” and “do not steal,” etc.) Judaism recognizes the spiritual legitimacy of those outside its fold, affirming for all that righteousness is not confined to any one tribe or path.
Indeed, the Talmud specifically says (Tosefta, Sanhedrin 13), “The Righteous of all nations have a share in the world to come.” A similar yet stronger statement is affirmed in the Midrash (Tana D’bei Eliahu Rabba 9), “I call heaven and earth as witnesses: Any individual, whether gentile or Jew, man or woman, servant or maid, can bring the Divine Presence upon himself in accordance with his deeds.”
Furthermore, the Jewish tradition holds that God created seventy root nations of the world, each destined to pursue its own unique spiritual path. The Babylonian Talmud explains that the sacrifice of seventy bulls once a year as commanded in the Torah (Numbers 29:12-34) represented Israel’s responsibility towards the nations of the world: “Rabbi Elazar said: These seventy bulls to what do they correspond? They correspond to the seventy nations” (Sukkah 55:b). The Torah and the Jewish tradition insist our God is the one and only God, but they also implore us to honor our universal responsibility and refrain from elevating ourselves above others. This makes sense, as if God is all, then there would be nothing wrong with others worshiping their concept of divinity, however they might perceive it.
Rethinking the Foundation for Chosenness
For me, the true basis of chosenness means that we are all cells in an organism, organs in a body. Just as each of our organs plays a particular role in our overall functioning, so do each of the faiths (and the individuals who practice them) play a role in the betterment of our world.
Of course, it would follow, then, that chosenness does not imply nor require exclusivity, as each organ and each cell within it chooses and is chosen by life’s intelligence, united by common stem cell DNA. This shared intelligent design specializes each cell to contribute its own unique function for the benefit of the whole. Similarly, all humans share the same essence, as we are made in the image of God and chosen to play our role, be it as individuals or as part of a nation-tribe.
I have my own ideas about what Judaism’s contributions might be, as I’m sure any person from any faith might have ideas about theirs. But I’d hope we can all agree that each one of the seventy nations was chosen by God for a specific purpose: to contribute their unique gifts to this world as part of the greater whole. After all, most of our spiritual and religious traditions across the globe, despite their differences, value unity and a fairly comparable set of ideas around morality and ethics. And, just as Moses may have been chosen to receive the Torah for the Jewish people, Patanjali and Lao Tzu may have each been chosen to receive the Yoga Sutras and the Tao Te Ching for their nations.
Now, this chosenness isn’t just our so-called gifts and skills. It includes the legacy of our wounds, both as individuals and as peoples, which, when healed, can then strengthen our contributions even further. Suffering, as the rabbis above might agree, is part of our enlightenment curriculum, enabling us to achieve higher highs along with the lowest lows.
Instead of bemoaning the persecution of our people, Jews can come together in celebrating the ways it has made us stronger—the miracle of our survival as proof of the promise God made Abraham. These gifts, this history, and indeed this suffering are all passed down as part of our lineage, personally, collectively, and genetically. We are strengthened by our suffering, not defined by it. Being born to Jewish parents, I have a Jewish spark in my soul, a gift that then calls on me to serve and play my role. And, of course, part of that calling includes writing this very piece.
Chosen and Called: How Purpose, Privilege, and Responsibility Converge
I stated earlier that I feel called to write this. Feeling “called” has become quite a popular phrase in spiritual circles. It is how we describe that voice inside, pulling us to embark on a journey. We can accredit this voice to whomever or whatever we like: our soul, spirit, God, higher-self, essence, or true nature, etc.
Often, those in the Bible who are called upon for great undertakings are, in the process, chosen by God. Take Abraham, for example—God’s first emissary for the religion. In Genesis 18:19, God says of Abraham, “For I have chosen (known) him, that he may command his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing righteousness and justice, so that the Lord may bring to Abraham what He has promised him.” Following this calling, God asks Abraham to leave everything behind—his country, his family of origin, his entire past—and to travel to “the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1)—a journey into the unknown, fraught with uncertainty and challenges. God also makes a covenant with Abraham and promises that his descendants will be as numerous as the stars in the sky. It is the covenant that serves as the basis for Abraham’s descendants (Jews, Christians, and Muslims) as chosen.
Later on, God calls upon Moses to lead the Israelites out of slavery. Yet Moses resists. Repeatedly, he argues with God, insisting he is the wrong man for the job. Eventually, Moses (albeit reluctantly) accepts his charge—a task we know would never be an easy one. He must go up against the mighty ruler Pharaoh, lead his people out of slavery, and guide them through the desert as they constantly resist. More than once, Moses despairs, pleading, “The burden is too heavy for me. If you will treat me like this, kill me at once, if I find favor in your sight, that I may not see my wretchedness” (Numbers 11:14-15). But he knows he can’t turn back now.
Moses is called and chosen by God. In Letters to a Young Poet (W.W. Norton, 1993, p. 42-43) the German poet Rilke writes similarly of the, “…great exact claim upon us, something that chooses us out and calls us to vast things.” Being chosen and being called are two sides of the same coin, two roads that lead to the same destination: an actualization of the self in service of something greater.
Whatever your calling might be, whatever faith you might come from, and even if the journey is not easy, just like Abraham and Moses, you have a role to play and contributions to make.
Our World to Come
Let us all come together and remember we are all brothers and sisters—children of, and here to serve, the One. As The Bible says, “You shall not abhor an Edomite, for he is your brother” (Deuteronomy 23:7).
In fact, Isaiah (56:7) prophesized the day when all the nations of the world will gather around the rebuilt temple, “for My house shall be called a house of prayer for all people.” The Jewish sage Maimonides (Rambam) states in his Mishna Torah, “Ultimately, all the deeds of Jesus of Nazareth and the Ishmaelite who arose after him will only serve to prepare the way for Maschiach’s (Hebrew for Messiah) coming and the improvement of the entire world, motivating the nations to serve God together.”
Furthermore, in my own research interviewing seventy-one spiritual teachers across all of the world’s spiritual traditions (including those that don’t speak of God such as Buddhism, Hinduism, Taoism, Shamanism) who were nominated by their peers as people who embody their spiritual values in daily life, I identified universal qualities common to all such as: a sense of purpose, service, service, compassion, trust, truth, and dis-identification from their ego. No matter their theology and cosmology, these subjects all worked to cultivate these values—a collection I then used to form the basis for a universal, ecumenical theory of spiritual intelligence.
These shared values are not a coincidence, and this unity should be encouraging. Everyone from atheists to the “spiritual but not religious” to evangelical Christians to devout Muslims or Jews can choose chosenness, embodying and applying the insights of spiritual intelligence to daily life.[4]
Striving for Divinity: A Call That Echoes for Each of Us
Let us remember the meaning of the name “Israel,” derived from the word’s Hebrew spelling Yod, Shin, Reish, Aleph, Lamed. The name is first given to Jacob by the angel he wrestles with all night. At the end, to be released by Jacob, the angel agrees to bless him: “Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with men, and have prevailed” (Genesis 32:28). Striven is the translation of the Hebrew sarita with the root letters of Shin, Reish, Yod. Thus, the people of Israel are those who strive towards, and wrestle with, God. Alternatively, the word Israel consists of two parts: first Yod, Shin, Reish (pronounced Yashar and meaning “straight”), followed by Aleph, Lamed (pronounced El, meaning “God”). Thus, the people of Israel are also those aiming straight at God.
Thus, if you are a Jewish person, to the extent that you strive toward, aim for, and wrestle with God—the One—then in spirit you are among the community of Israel. All of us humans are wrestling with the ONE, with the truth. And as we are all offspring of the One, wishing to unite with our Source—this unitive yearning lives and can be cultivated in all of us humans, regardless of if we call the One, God, Source, True Nature, Self, Great Spirit, or any other name, as different traditions each use different language.
But more important than any group, tribe, or religious affiliation, if you feel called by the spirit of the One, I hope you will choose to devote your life in service to that calling, actualizing your unique gifts in service of Life. For you, I, and all of us have no independent existence separate from the One—the single web of life we are all embedded in.
And when enough of us humans aim and devote our lives in service of the One, we will realize the peace and prosperity we desire for all of humanity. For as the prophet Zechariah (14:9) says, “On that day the LORD will be One and his name One.” LORD in this verse is the English translation of the tetragrammaton, the ineffable four-letter Hebrew name: Yod-Hey-Vav-Hey (YHVH), which contains all tense permutations of the verb “to be,” namely, was, is, and will be. The day will come when each one of us can recognize our divinity along with the humility of our shared humanity, all as offspring of the One. As John Lennon invites us in his song “Imagine,” “I hope someday you’ll join us, and the world will live as one.”
Choose Your Chosenness, Follow the Call
You—yes, you—have been chosen, chosen by the One. We have been endowed by the One life we are all a part of, so we may actualize our highest potential to serve it. May we choose to ignite our sacred spark and fan our flame, so we may radiate its light out into the world—living in love and emanating joy. In doing so, we become co-creators with our Creator, the greatest privilege and honor we may receive. Furthermore, even if we cannot do the so-called “great things,” like Moses and Abraham, as the saying commonly attributed to Mother Teresa reminds us, “We can all do small things with great love…We shall never know all the good that a simple smile can do.”
It is here—in acts of service big and small, in spreading justice, righteousness, mercy, and compassion—that we feel most connected and re-sourced by our life force: our gift from the Source. It is the only way for our souls to live in integrity and connection—the truest and highest expression of our spiritual intelligence.[5] [6]
In the end, being “chosen” is not about superiority or exclusion—it is a call to embrace our shared humanity and recognize that each of us has a unique role in the collective journey of striving towards the divine, however we define it. It is an invitation to see ourselves and each other not as competitors or enemies, but as fellow humans in an unfolding story that guides us towards greater dignity, harmony, and unity for all of humanity. If we can redefine chosenness this way—as a calling—we move closer to the day when we no longer feel compelled to divide ourselves into separate competing tribes. Instead, we can celebrate the diversity of our paths, all while honoring the truth that we are all part of one human family, chosen in that we are alive, and called to shine our light in the way only we can.
[1] https://www.rcaanc-cirnac.gc.ca/eng/1100100014187/1534785248701; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dharug_language; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ng%C3%A4be
[2] All Quran quotes are from the Sahih International version unless otherwise stated.
[3] Trungpa, C. (2002). Cutting through Spiritual Materialism. Shambhala.
[4] Amram, Yosi (2007). The Seven Dimensions of Spiritual Intelligence: An Ecumenical Grounded Theory. (PDF). Paper presented at 115th Annual (August 2007) Conference of the American Psychological Association, San Francisco, CA. Available at https://intelligensi.com/spiritual-intelligence/.
[5] Amram, Yosi (2022). The Intelligence of Spiritual Intelligence: Making the Case. Religions, 13:1140. Available at: https://www.mdpi.com/2077-1444/13/12/1140
[6] Amram, Yosi (2023). Spiritually Intelligent Leadership: How to Inspire by Being Inspired.
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