THIS may get me into trouble. On Monday the Jewish New Year begins. Unlike the secular new year — largely a boisterous time characterised by revelry and champagne — Rosh Hashannah is a very serious and sober occasion.

Jews spend the day in synagogue, even the lapsed ones who do not normally attend services. We reflect on our conduct during the past 12 months and make resolutions to repeat the good things we did, remedy the hurts we caused and set goals for the coming year.

Here lies my problem. My resolution this year may make sense to some, but will be seen as heresy to others, especially fellow rabbis (and many vicars and imams). I resolve to speak out against faith schools, a trend that is rooted in good intent but carries many dangers.

I have every admiration for those who wish to pass on their religious heritage to the next generation, and indeed spend much of my life doing so, both as a congregational rabbi and as a parent. For this very reason, Judaism has no equivalent of monks and nuns, and sees no point in being celibate, for one definition of a good Jew is one who has a Jewish child.

This accounts for the surprising inclusion of Isaac alongside Abraham and Jacob in the Jewish list of the Patriarchs. Frankly, he was rather a nonentity compared with his illustrious father and powerful son, but his great merit was maintaining the link, without which there would have been no Jacob, nor subsequent history.

The problem with faith schools is not their purpose but their consequences. They may be designed to inculcate religious values, but they result in religious ghettos, which can destabilise the social health of the country at large.

Even those faith schools that genuinely try to reach out to the wider community and teach good citizenship still segregate Jewish, Muslim or Catholic children from each other and bring them up in what amounts to an educational apartheid system.

Lack of contact leads to ignorance of each other, which can breed suspicion and produce fear and hostility. The best way of finding out about members of other religions is not by reading books, but by mixing with them.

I want my children to sit next to a Sikh in class, play football in the break with a Methodist, do homework with a Hindu and walk to the bus stop with a Muslim before returning to their Jewish home. That way they will see how much they have in common, realise where they differ, and find each other interesting rather than threatening. It is equally important for Catholic and Muslim youngsters to understand why my children are Jewish and what that means.

Moreover, it is not just the children who are being cut off from each other in faith schools, but parents too. They cannot meet and form friendships with mothers and fathers from other traditions at the school gate, at sports days or at parent-techer association meetings. We need to work hard in the opposite direction: the more multifaith Britain becomes, the more we have to ensure that different groups do not grow apart.

We have already had a warning. After the riots in Bradford and Burnley, the Ouseley report blamed the segregation in schools for heightening the divide between different local communities. It was not the sole reason, but a contributing factor.

We also saw the terrible scenes of Catholic children having to run the gauntlet of screaming Protestants to reach Holy Cross School in Belfast. Had those Protestant parents mixed with Catholic children 30 years ago, they might have grown up knowing that Catholics are not demons but ordinary kids who eat crisps and enjoy skateboarding. 30 years later those Protestants might not have been so fearful or hate-filled as to man barricades against children.

In England, thankfully, we have not such dire problems — but it seems madness to consciously lay the foundations that might produce them. By creating a range of separate faith schools, we will prevent integration and encourage separation. We have spent more than a century ridding ourselves of class divisions; why now rush to replace them with religious barriers?

My preferred solution would be to encourage schools that are cross-religious: neither allied to one particular faith nor given to regarding religion as a waste of time. Instead, they should treat faith seriously, while accommodating aetheism, and should explore the richness of each tradition.

At the same time, such schools would seek to replicate the undoubted achievements of some faith schools — be it academic success, parental involvement or moral climate — and harness them to a more inclusive environment. Meanwhile, children should receive their religious direction from the source that has the greatest impact: the home. This can be supplemented by after-school classes or weekend religion schooling if parents so wish.

Schools must build bridges, not erect barriers. However good some faith schools are individually, collectively they are a recipe for social disaster. Leaders of all faiths should put aside religious self-interest and make national cohesion a higher priority. At the same time, MPs who can see political advantage in supporting local sectarian demands should have the courage to ignore calls for religious preferences and work towards the greater good of communal integration.

Of course, the more tolerant and harmonious society is as a whole, the safer and more valued are its component parts, especially minority ones. All sectors will be better off if we maintain our own traditions, but study and play alongside each other, respecting differences but sharing common values. It will also lead to brighter prospects at this time of year.

Rabbi Dr Jonathan Romain is minister of Maidenhead Synagogue and author of Reform Judaism and Modernity (SCM Press)

What’s your view?
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