Secular Judaism is one of the most prominent yet least understood expressions of Jewish identity. For millions of Jews around the world, being Jewish is not primarily about belief in God or observance of halakhah, but about culture, ancestry, memory, and shared values. They may not pray, keep kosher, or attend synagogue regularly, but they still light candles on Hanukkah, pass down stories of their grandparents, speak or cherish Yiddish and Hebrew, and uphold deep commitments to justice and learning. In an age when traditional religion is increasingly questioned, secular Judaism raises profound and important questions: What does it mean to be a Jew? Can Jewishness thrive without God? And how does secular identity relate to Torah, tradition, and peoplehood?
Secular Judaism refers to Jewish identity and community life divorced from religious belief or practice. This form of Judaism emerged most powerfully in the 18th and 19th centuries, as the Jewish Enlightenment (Haskalah) challenged religious authority and encouraged Jews to participate in modern European society. Thinkers like Moses Mendelssohn opened the door to Jewish cultural renewal outside the framework of synagogue and halakhah.
By the late 19th and early 20th centuries, new forms of Jewish identity had taken root: the Yiddish-speaking secularists of the Bund, Zionist pioneers forging a new Hebrew culture, socialist revolutionaries, and artists, writers, and philosophers who shaped modern Jewish life without invoking divine authority. For these Jews, Judaism was a civilization—a shared history, language, ethic, and destiny. God was not always part of that picture.
Today, secular Jews form a significant portion of the global Jewish population. In Israel, many citizens identify as hiloni (secular), shaping Israeli culture, politics, and public life while maintaining limited or no formal religious observance. In the United States and Europe, secular Jews often express their identity through literature, cuisine, humor, communal memory (especially of the Holocaust), and activism for social justice.
Despite varied levels of engagement, many secular Jews continue to mark holidays, attend lifecycle events, support Israel or Jewish causes, and raise their children with a sense of Jewish pride. For them, Judaism is a living tradition—but one that is cultural and ethical rather than theological.
Can Judaism survive without God? This is the core spiritual question at the heart of secular Judaism. Some secular Jews are agnostic or atheist. Others believe in some form of divine presence but reject organized religion. What unites them is not theology but a sense of belonging to a people, a historical memory, and often a moral tradition grounded in justice, learning, and resistance to tyranny.
Jewish secular humanists, for example, speak of “Judaism as the evolving culture of the Jewish people” and emphasize human dignity, responsibility, and community. The spiritual element is not absent—it is transformed. God may not be invoked, but the values traditionally associated with Torah—compassion, justice, humility—remain central.
The relationship between secular and religious Jews has not always been smooth. Religious Jews often see secularism as a threat to continuity. Secular Jews may see religious Judaism as rigid, outmoded, or irrelevant. But despite tensions, there is much that unites both communities: a shared sense of Jewish history, reverence for learning, celebration of life-cycle moments, and a desire to see the Jewish people flourish.
Netzarim Judaism, in particular, holds a unique stance. While deeply rooted in Torah and belief in the divine, Netzarim Jews also reject the authoritarianism of Talmudic tradition and affirm the role of individual conscience. We understand that not all Jews experience the divine the same way—or at all. But we believe that the Jewish people are one family. Secular Jews are part of that family. Their culture, their resistance, their memory, and their voice are all part of the Jewish story.
Judaism has always been more than religion—it is a people, a covenant, a conversation across time. Whether one prays three times a day or never at all, whether one believes in God or only in the moral power of our ancestors’ stories, Jewish identity continues to evolve.
As the world changes and faith becomes more personal and varied, we must not divide ourselves along the line of belief. Instead, we can ask: Are we building a just world? Are we preserving and renewing Jewish life? Are we listening to the voices of our people—past and present?
Secular Judaism reminds us that belief is not the only path to meaning. It is possible to be deeply, proudly, actively Jewish—through memory, culture, ethics, and peoplehood. And perhaps that, too, is a kind of faith.
