Blue Jews
Here There Is No WhyBlue Jews is a story within Chaim Lerner’s “Planet of the Jews” science-fiction series, and its decisive subject is disenchantment: a community experiences religious renewal only to discover that the apparent bearers of salvation were con men and thieves. The blue-skinned aliens are therefore both characters in a comic speculative narrative and instruments for examining trust, cultural identity, spiritual authority, and the collapse of faith after betrayal.
Arrival and Claimed Kinship
The story begins when a group of rotund, blue-skinned aliens lands on a habitable planet already settled by Jews who fled Earth to escape a renewed outbreak of fascist anti-Semitism. The visitors present themselves as fellow Jews rather than as an unknown species seeking simple accommodation. Their claim depends on recognizable cultural evidence: they speak fluent Hebrew, recount experiences of enslavement followed by liberation, and chant a law code containing striking similarities to the biblical book of Deuteronomy.
The aliens’ identity is thus constructed through a dense accumulation of signs. Their bodies remain visibly strange, but language, historical memory, law, and ritual make them seem familiar. The story places physical otherness beside cultural intimacy, making the community’s judgment depend less on appearance than on whether shared tradition can be performed convincingly. Their alleged Jewishness is not proved through ancestry or biology; it is accepted through speech, narrative, and ritual behavior.
The Religious Renaissance
The visitors’ most powerful display is prayer. They pray with an inspiring melodic fervor, and their services become the single most attended pastime on the planet. Secular Jews who had previously scoffed at ritual and rejected God begin wearing tefillin every morning, while joining the blue Jews in shuckling, dancing, and swaying. A religious renaissance spreads through the community.
This revival is presented as a collective emotional and social transformation rather than as a private change of doctrine. The aliens make religious practice visible, pleasurable, and communal; ritual becomes an event that draws together people who had regarded it as obsolete. Their success also reveals the community’s hunger for a convincing sacred presence. The visitors do not merely teach belief. They supply a performance powerful enough to reorganize daily life and to make abandoned practices seem newly compelling.
Betrayal and Disillusionment
The renaissance ends abruptly when the community wakes one day to find that the alien Jews have flown away. Their departure is accompanied by a material theft: they have taken several complex, crucial pieces of equipment and the community’s only handwritten Torah scroll. The sacred and the practical are stolen together, so the betrayal damages both the settlement’s infrastructure and its symbolic center.
The revelation that the aliens were con men and thieves produces a communal disillusionment as intense as the preceding revival. Rabbis become atheists and resign, synagogues empty, and new nihilistic cults emerge around cynicism. Their most sacred ritual is suicide. The story therefore reverses the structure of a conversion narrative: ritual first appears to restore faith, then the exposure of fraud turns religious confidence into contempt for meaning itself.
Meaning of the Allegory
The story’s force lies in the uncertainty surrounding its target. The narrator has only a vague sense of what Chaim is addressing, perhaps the disenchantment of the modern age or the way the Holocaust robbed modern Jews of faith. The blue Jews dramatize the experience of waking to discover that a seemingly blessed reality was not what it appeared to be, whether because another party deceived the community or because the community deceived itself.
Suicide consequently appears in the story not simply as an individual act but as the final ritual of a culture that has converted disappointment into doctrine. The community’s response moves from enthusiastic belief to institutional collapse and then to a cult of cynicism. In that progression, Blue Jews connects religious fraud with the broader problem of how people respond when inherited explanations fail. Its aliens are memorable because they make the danger visible in grotesquely concrete form: the same figures who seem to authenticate faith also remove the equipment and the Torah scroll on which communal life depends.
The story also becomes important through its effect on Judah Loeb. While helping Chaim Lerner edit an English-language collection of short stories, Judah reads Blue Jews during a period of heartbreak and disillusionment. He is intrigued by the story’s account of apparent blessing turning into deception and by its movement from disenchantment to thoughts of suicide, although he distinguishes that fascination from suicidal intent. The story prompts him to seek out Chaim and discuss his own experience, giving Blue Jews a function beyond its fictional plot: it becomes the imaginative bridge through which a wounded reader approaches a mentor about faith, loss, and the meanings attached to self-destruction.