If “Fiddler on the Roof” had been written today, Tevye never would have tried to break up the romance between Chava and Fyedka. Rather, he would have invited his daughter’s non-Jewish boyfriend to join the family for a Sabbath dinner and engaged him in a long and deep conversation about his beliefs, values and intentions.

If “Fiddler on the Roof” had been written today, after the marriage (which he would have attended), Tevye would have tried to involve his new son-in-law in the life of the religious community, encouraging him to feel at home and accepted as a friend of the Jewish people.

If “Fiddler on the Roof” had been written today, Tevye’s hope would have been that, having fallen in love with a Jew, Fyedka eventually would fall in love with the Jewish people.

Has so much really changed in the 40 years since the play’s Broadway debut?

In the 1960s, intermarriage was seen as an evil to be combated, not an opportunity to be embraced. Rabbis were instructed, in the first instance, to do everything within their power to break up a romance between a Jew and a non-Jew, and if unsuccessful, to try to convince the non-Jew to convert.

If only they had taken the time to sit down and watch the play! In “Fiddler on the Roof,” Chava is represented as torn between the Fiddler on the one hand and Fyedka on the other – that is to say, between tradition and love. As the rabbis of the 1960s were to discover, love is powerful indeed, and next to nothing can stand in its way.

Today there is a new understanding that it isn’t enough to simply tell your children to marry within their faith; to have any power of persuasion, religion must have personal meaning. It isn’t enough to marry a Jew because you are a Jew; Judaism, and living Jewishly, have to be important values in your life, important enough to share them with your life partner. Otherwise it’s “just” a religion.

In today’s world, people of faith tend to marry people of faith, and a clash of faiths is often the death of a relationship. But where there is faith on one side and on the other a void waiting to be filled, strong-arm tactics serve no one’s interest.

As Fyedka says, “Some are driven away by edicts, others by silence.” In the end, unable to speak directly to his children, Tevye finds an indirect way to wish them a “God be with you!” If “Fiddler on the Roof” had been written today, Fyedka would have been welcomed as a valued member of the family, and would have joined them on their journey.

I cry whenever I watch “Fiddler on the Roof.” I cry for Tevye, I cry for Chava, and I cry for Fyedka. I cry for everyone who feels that they must choose between love and religion, and for everyone who walks away from their tradition because their parents, out of the best of intentions, in trying to keep them close have chased them away.

The world has changed in the past 40 years. Religion has become a choice, not a given. If we want our children to choose our religion and follow in our tradition, there is a best solution: We must live a life informed by our religion, a life of religious practice. If we want our children to go to synagogue (or to church), we must go to synagogue. If we want our children to value our religion enough to only marry someone who follows or is willing to follow the same religion, we must create a home that follows our religion. If we raise our children to be religious, then we don’t need to worry about intermarriage – they either will marry within our faith or bring their beloved around to our point of view.

And if it is their beloved’s religion that they choose to follow, can we really complain about it? In “Fiddler on the Roof,” Tevye asks, “A bird may love a fish, but where would they build a home together?” In today’s world, either the bird learns to swim or the fish to fly. The important thing is for the rest of the family to welcome them, wholeheartedly, into whichever home they chose for themselves.

Rabbi David Cantor is spiritual leader of Congregation Beth Israel in Bangor. He may be reached at bdnreligion@bangordailynews.net. Voices is a weekly commentary by Maine columnists who explore issues affecting spirituality and religious life.