Honoring Jewish Difference and Multi-Faith Action in India

When friends and family heard that I was going to India to connect with the local Jewish community, the response I got most often was surprise. Not many people were aware of the Jewish community in India, an estimated 4,300 of whom live throughout the country and have varying histories. 

The earliest of these communities—known as Bene Israel—came to India in 175 BCE during the era of King Solomon after a shipwreck stranded fleeing Jews. They went on to establish roots in the Mumbai region. References to a second community of Jews in India—the Cochin Jews—date back to the 8th century, with the majority of the community coming from Persia and settling in the south of India as traders. In the 19th century, Baghdadi Jewish communities grew in India after a wave of persecution in Iran, leading to a growth in the Mumbai Jewish community.

While in India, I connected primarily with Bene Israel Jews, and over the dinners we shared, the Shabbat we honored, and even the wedding that I attended on my final day, I gained a deep sense of connection with the community. 

There were, of course, differences in our experiences of Judaism—some visible as soon as we sat down to eat. Chicken curries with spiced rice, vegetables, and roti (flatbread) dominated the Shabbat dinner we attended. Yet after dinner, we sang songs that were familiar to all of us, sometimes teaching each other tunes or sharing anecdotes about our favorite songs or memories.

As we shared space as a community on Shabbat, we also found that we shared values of Tikkun Olam and improving the world around us that manifested differently in our respective contexts–even with an aligned aim. In both communities, we found that we worked hard to support members of our Jewish community, but in my own U.S. context, I found that broader engagement often focused on bridge-building with secular causes, whereas in India, broader Tikkun Olam efforts included multi-faith approaches to integrating community-driven visions of prosperity. 

One example of this is the Gabriel Project, which offers a three-prong approach to support children and their families in a low-resource community outside Mumbai. By providing after-school enrichment to children in low-resource communities, a local medical clinic, and a soap recycling program of turning used hotel soaps into new bars that were then distributed to children, the Gabriel Project worked with community members from a range of faiths to identify and meet necessary needs. These efforts reflect Jewish values of bal tashchit, the prohibition against waste and destruction, and affirm pikuach nefesh, the obligation to protect life and health, yet neither is done in an explicitly Jewish manner. Instead, recognizing the multi-faith context of the community, the Jewish values were incorporated into action and applied in accessible ways.

Turning Jewish values into action in multifaith settings was also something I witnessed in Ahmedabad, where Jewish involvement with a multifaith women’s alliance known as SEWA (the Self-Employed Women’s Association) uplifts female voices of all religions. This sisterhood of informal female workers across belief systems created a unitary platform to advocate for fair wages, labor rights, healthcare access, and collective power, while also offering programs to uplift working women, such as childcare, microloans, and training opportunities. When meeting with leaders of the organization to hear more about their work, I was struck by the shared interfaith prayer for global peace and well-being that opened the meeting, one that the women created themselves to reflect the tapestry of the community. 

In this space, similarities and shared beliefs were honored alongside differences, creating a sense of unity amongst those gathered in a circle on the floor. Leading with this prayer created an openness within the space—and each other—that allowed for stories of hardship to be met with compassion and for stories of need to be met with action. Female labor—across religions—is often invisible and undervalued yet foundational to communal survival and essential to uplift. By organizing around this commonality, SEWA’s model recognizes that women across cultures may share similar struggles of visibility and provides a space of leadership, mutual aid, and empowerment to uplift women of all backgrounds rather than just those of one community. 

What touched me about each of these efforts for change is the collaboration between the Jewish community and community members of many faiths, working together towards shared values. Rather than foregrounding Jewish identity or prioritizing Jews within populations served, these efforts highlight what to me is a cherished part of Judaism: the core belief in our duty to help others and improve the world around us, even across lines of perceived division and difference. Starting small and locally can often be the best way to create this change, as these initiatives demonstrate, and it is critical to include a community grounding in efforts for change.  

In a time of division and desperation for belonging, I see a universal beauty in Jewish communities that embrace plurality. We all honor Judaism in many different ways, yet share a commitment to justice and mutual responsibility that calls on us to leave this world better than when we arrived.