In the meantime…

On Friday, hours before Shabbat was to arrive, I dumped some thoughts out of my head and onto this blog. Knowing that they were provocative and not merely some light reflections, I expected some sort of reaction from people. But I had no idea the kind of response it would elicit. But then, that’s the whole point of this internet thing, isn’t it.

I spent Shabbat mulling over it all. I’m still mulling. Obviously, a response is on its way. In the meantime, for those that are interested in the topic of commandedness, I recommend the following:

  • Duties of the Soul: The Role of Commandments in Liberal Judaism,” edited by Niles E. Goldstein and Peter S. Knobel.
  • Various articles in “The Reform Judaism Reader,” specifically Emil Fackenheim’s Nothing is More Important (1954), Jakob Peteuchowski’s Experiencing the Commandment (1961), and Arnold Jacob Wolf’s The Need to Be Commanded (1967). Obviously, the entire chapter on The Halachah of Reform, with notable articles by Rabbis Mark Washofsky, Herman E. Shaalman, and David Polish, is of great importance.
  • Liberal Judaism and Halakhah” edited by Walter Jacob.
  • BZ’s article on Limmud NY’s Reform Halakah panel is also insightful.

    As for me, a response is coming… very soon.

    And I’m still very much a Reform Jew, as I indicated in my previous post.
    Take a look at the last paragraph.

    Well, I guess I’m out…

    After years of being questioned by various family members, friends, and confused strangers as to whether or not I really was a Reform Jew (apparently believing that washing your hands before eating is a thoroughly un-Reform concept), the answer is in folks.

    It has been decided that I am, in fact, not a Reform Jew.

    Yes, the confusion is over, and thankfully so. Interestingly, the one who made the life-altering decision is none other than Rabbi Eric Yoffie, the president of our movement. I am simultaneously honoured and flabbergasted that he takes such an interested in my personal beliefs. This life-altering information was disclosed to me in a fascinating article in The Jewish Week written by Debra Nussbaum Cohen. In it, Rabbi Yoffie makes the following assertion:

    There are limits to what Reform Judaism can encompass… If you take [Jewish Law] upon yourself as an obligation rather than as a choice, you’ve reached the point at which you’re no longer a Reform Jew.”

    Well. I’m glad he spelled it out so clearly. So much for theological pluralism.

    While the article itself is quite thought-provoking, and will most certainly be the topic of a future blog post, Rabbi Yoffie’s assertion remains front and centre for the time-being. In all seriousness, I am angered and somewhat frightened by this revelation.

    Such an exclusionary statement is not only antithetical to the so called pluralistic values of Reform Judaism, it is also contradictory in and of itself. To be sure, every act and belief that we take upon ourselves has some element of choice in it. I am not forced to believe that there are certain things that God requests of us, nor am I forced to perform any acts. Even for those of us who believe in aspects of Divine commandedness, choice is still central. Moreover, Reform Judaism’s principles of inclusiveness and pluralism teach me that not everybody understands God and Judaism in the same way that I do. So while I may believe that God commands certain things, I also understand that other Jews do not experience commandments in the same way.

    It seems to me that Rabbi Yoffie’s statement is thoroughly un-Reform itself. And that troubles me. Certainly, the notion of commandedness is not foreign to Reform Judaism. Rabbi Gunther Plaut has the following to say about it:

    Mitzvah is an indigenous part of Judaism; there can be no Judaism without mitzvah. And there can be no Shabbat observance without definable and therefore observable מצוות עשה (positive mitzvot) and מצוות לא תעשה (negative mitzvot).”

    ~The Sabbath in the Reform Movement (1965)

    My chief concern is not the notion of a Judaism devoid of elements of Divine command (although I strongly disagree with such a supposition). What troubles me the most is the notion of a Judaism that doesn’t even allow for the possibility of the opposite. We’re Reform Jews, aren’t we? We value religious pluralism, don’t we? We stand for diversity of thought and practice, don’t we?

    This is not an isolated issue, either. In the current edition of Reform Judaism (the magazine), Yoffie writes the following:

    … a certain number of our congregational leaders… [urged] the Union to focus on spirituality, not politics. It is more important, they said, that we Reform Jews concentrate on Jewish education, worship, and Outreach than on issues of public policy.

    I understand this argument, but I cannot agree. Reform Judaism came into being as a protest against those who insisted on limiting Judaism to matters of ritual and study… For Reform Jews, worship and study must always lead to active engagement with the world.”

    Always? Praying to God must always lead to political action? Nu? Isn’t that a very limiting statement itself? Doesn’t that limit Judaism to matters of politics? Why can’t it be both? Why can’t worship and study be for some a way to communicate with God, for some a way to engage with our rich history, and for others a way to change the world? PEOPLE! This is what we claim Reform Judaism to be. It’s what we tell others that we are. We know that in action, it’s not always the case, but at least pluralism had a home on paper for a while. It seems now that even on paper we’re become less pluralistic.

    This orthodoxy of Reform continues to trouble me. It is so frighteningly contradictory, and it shakes me to the bones. Make no mistake, I am a Reform Jew, and I will continue to be one. But I will not box myself into a definition of Reform Judaism that excludes others.

    The way of Man or Woman (redux)

    This is a somewhat long argument. If you’ve heard me rant about religious pluralism before, skip to the last four paragraphs. Although I do reccomend reading the whole post.

    “When some disciples of a deceased tzaddik came to the Seer of Lublin and expressed surprise at the fact that his customs were different from those of their late master, the Seer exclaimed, “What sort of God would that be who has only one way in which he can be served! God does not say, ‘This way leads to me and that does not.’ Instead God says, ‘Whatever you do may be a way to me, provided you do it in such a manner that it leads you to me.'”
    -Martin Buber, The Way of Man

    I often find myself returning to the thoughts of Martin Buber to console me when I’m upset about the Jewish world.

    Last week, at Hillel we had our first “Three Rabbis walk into a Bar…” programme, where we invited a Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox rabbi to come to a roundtable discussion at a bar. The topic of discussion were varied – challenges each movement faces, why the Rabbis choose to affiliate with each movement, perspectives on Halakhah, perspectives on pluralism, etc.

    The programme itself was fantastic. The rabbis were stimulating. They were respectful, and most of all, they were refreshing. As I’ve noted before, Toronto is not the most religiously pluralistic community, quite the opposite in fact. So to have an Orthodox rabbi (granted, he was from YCT) and a Conservative rabbi (granted, he was from one of only two egalitarian Conservative shuls in Toronto) sitting in a bar with a woman rabbi talking about pluralism and halakhah was truly refreshing.

    So why am I upset?

    One person attending the programme came “armed” with vitriol, ignorance, and a condescending tone. This is not a good combination. I won’t go into the details of his challenges to the Reform and Conservative Movements and to religious pluralism – they’re the same old whinings that we’ve heard for ages. And I’ve heard them from this particular individual on many occasions (Jesse, if the Reform Movement allowes gay marriage, then why doesn’t it allow incestuous marriage?).

    I often wonder how educated Jews are able to sit and spew hatred masked as concern towards other Jews. I often wonder if we can’t even sit in a bar and talk to each other in Toronto, how we’re supposed to sit in the Knesset and talk to each other. Yes, this was just one individual in this case, but it is indicative of a worldwide pandemic.

    To see just how endemic this pandemic is, read the comments on this article about the WUPJ Conference from today’s Jerusalem Post.

    For all that we talk about religious pluralism, and how we acknowledge that it is an uphill battle, I wonder how much success we’re actually making. Hillel in Tornoto is not as a religously pluralistic environment as people might think it is. We claim that our Shabbat dinnners are our “hallmark” outreach event, but we hold them at Orthodox and Conservative shuls. Mincha used to be held with a mechitzah that put women at the back of the room (now it divides down the centre).

    Because the Jewish religious community in Toronto is predominantly Orthodox, this often infuses our campuses with the “frumest common denominator” syndrome (for more on this, read BZ here). Even though the programme directors on all of our campuses are Reform (including a particularly fantastic woman Reform Rabbi), we have to “cater” to the constituency.

    Which brings me full circle. This is not only a leadership issue. This is a constituency issue. This is not a problem that’s going to be solved by putting pluralistic rabbis and pluralistic Hillel professionals on campus (although that certainly is a step in the right direction). When you have an organization whose members are largely not religously pluralistic, it doesn’t matter what the leadership screams out if the volk are not buying it.

    This is an issue that needs a grasroots solution. We need a New Israel Fund type of movement for Jewish life in Toronto. We need to find a way to speak to the people at their level. We need a way to show people that two women having a Jewish wedding will not mean that their children will wind up marring each other. Or a cat (yes, I’ve heard that one, too).

    I’m not imposing my Judaism on you. The wonderful thing about Judaism is that it is able to survive while containing within in it many different, yet equally valid perspectives of Judaism. But heaven knows that those people who don’t understand this are not going to learn about pluralism from their rabbis. It’s got to come from somewhere else, and the current model is not working.

    I should note in closing – at Hillel in Toronto, there is not an overt animosity between Reform, Orthodox, Conservative, Secular, and otherwise un-labeled Jews. We get along just fine when we’re not talking about religious Judaism. But that’s the point. We should be able to talk about religious Judaism in a pluralistic manner. If we always have to skirt the issue and walk on eggshells, we’re doing something wrong.

    Let’s do something right.
    Mr. Buber knew how to do it, perhaps we should take a page from his book.