Hannah in Israel with International School students, University of Haifa
The great contribution of Reform Judaism is that it has enabled the Jewish people to introduce innovation while preserving tradition, to embrace diversity while asserting commonality, to affirm beliefs without rejecting those who doubt, and to bring faith to sacred texts without sacrificing critical scholarship. – A Statement of Principles for Reform Judaism, Central Conference of American Rabbis, 1999
Two weeks ago, my daughter Hannah left for Israel to begin
her spring semester abroad at the University of Haifa. A Jewish Studies major
who has thoughts of one day becoming a Reform Rabbi, Hannah is on a journey for
which I am at once proud, envious, and concerned. She is a passionate young
woman who cares deeply about the future of liberal Judaism and a woman’s place
in it. She dreams of a peaceful and secure Israel that abides by the moral and
ethical principles of its founding and of the values she holds most dear as a Jew.
And she cares about human rights, peace, and the future of the planet. She is a
courageous young woman for whom I hope her ideals will one day become
reality.
And yet, I am under no illusions as to how difficult and
perilous a journey she is on. For the next three-and-a-half months, Hannah is
likely to gain an advanced education in the complexity and challenges of
pursuing a life that walks a middle path between the secular and the religious
that is modern day Israel. More than any country on earth, Israel is a mixture
of extremes trying to fit within a coherent whole. Broadly speaking, approximately half of Israel’s Jewish
population is either Orthodox (20%) or traditional with Orthodox sympathies
(30%), while the other half is mostly secular, largely indifferent
to Judaism as a religious tradition and, in some cases, dismissive of religious practice and
belief (Haaretz op-ed, December 8, 2013).
It is perhaps not surprising that Hannah in Israel has begun
to question how she fits into this widely divergent picture. As she told me on
the phone after visiting Jerusalem’s Old City, she at times feels out of
place in Israel, as if she is on a countercultural journey with an uncertain
future. She loves Israel and its people, but she worries for Israel’s long-term
security and future as a Jewish and democratic state, which she contends is
being jeopardized by the policies of current Israeli Prime Minister Benyamin
Netanyahu. And she sees first-hand the disproportionate influence of the
Orthodox establishment over Israeli religious life, with few alternatives.
Of course, to live a meaningfully Jewish life in the United
States is far more challenging than in the Holy Land. Even secular Israeli Jews
with no synagogue affiliation awaken each morning in a Jewish state, speak Hebrew, and
celebrate the major Jewish holidays. American Jews by contrast live in a
predominantly Christian country in which Jews are only 2% of the population. Given
the increasing secularization of American society, the pull of assimilation and
pluralism, and the individual freedoms guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution, it is no
wonder that many worry about the survival and long-term prospects of American
Jewish life. Unlike in Israel, however, Reform Judaism remains the largest Jewish movement in the United States. When combined with the Conservative and
Reconstructionist movements, “liberal” Judaism (i.e., Judaism that does not
rigidly adhere to halakhah, or traditional Jewish law) makes up the vast
majority of American Jewish expression and practice.
Hannah’s journey in Israel is made more complex by the
powers ceded by Israeli civil society to the Orthodox rabbinate, which controls
what marriages are recognized by the state (only those performed by Orthodox
rabbis), and the validity of Jewish conversions, which are recognized in Israel
only if performed by the “right” kind of rabbi. Female rabbis are not
recognized in the Orthodox movements and women are segregated to the back
sections of the synagogue. And because the more liberal Jewish movements
(Reform, Conservative, and Reconstructionist) are considered inauthentic by
most Orthodox rabbis, Israel has for many years been all-or-nothing in terms of
religious expression and practice.
As one who struggles at times with my own faith in a secular age, I know that Hannah is on a
fascinating journey at once vibrant and exciting, scary and confusing. By seeking to express her faith tradition in meaningful ways, consistent with her Jewish values and the secular ideals of feminism, equality, environmentalism, and universalism, Hannah is walking what can at times be a lonely
path. But it is a walk which offers opportunities for deeply personal connections with others hungry for spiritual nourishment in the context of an abiding and enduring faith tradition.
For much of the past half-century, the Holocaust and the founding
of Israel represented for many American Jews essential components of Jewish identity. But as important as these historic events
are to Jewish history and Jewish experience, they are wholly divorced from
Judaism as a religion. “Judaism is bigger than this,” writes Jonathan Sacks,
Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of Great Britain and author of
Future Tense: Jews, Judaism, and Israel in the Twenty-First Century (Schocken
Books, 2009). Judaism is a covenant with God and a value-based way of life and
ethics. Although the Jewish faith has survived four thousand years of exile,
oppression, and persecution, Judaism has more to offer the world than stories
of victimization and survival. And while bagels and lox and Jewish comedy have
enhanced the American landscape, Judaism is so much more than culture and
ethnicity. “Everyone has enemies. . . . Everyone has ethnicity,” writes Sacks.
“Judaism is the sustained attempt to make real in life the transformative power
of hope. And the world, in the twenty-first century, needs hope.”
As a Reform Jew, Hannah has endorsed a movement that is
attempting to persuade secular and non-religious Jews that the pursuit of faith
is a lifelong quest, an ongoing journey of questioning and commitment. Liberal
Judaism allows Jews to embrace and find meaning in elements of Jewish tradition
that does not require rigid adherence to the many prescriptions of halakhah that
are no longer relevant to most American and secular Israeli Jews.
Hannah is learning that the search for identity is
intricately connected to the search for meaning and purpose. When taken seriously, it can become a guidepost to one's life, but of
necessity requires emotional and intellectual struggle. It requires that one
engage with the world in all its conflict, ambiguity, and messiness; that one
look inward, to meaningful rituals, to tradition, and to God.
It also requires that one look outward – to the wider world, to art, literature,
music, politics, justice, and the human condition.
As Hannah and other young American Jews are discovering, there are many ways in which to meaningfully commit to a Jewish life and express a meaningful Jewish identity. Whether she someday becomes
a Rabbi or decides to walk a different path, Hannah can become an agent of hope
and of Jewish renewal; she can partner with others, with God, and with people of
all faiths in making the world a better, more peaceful and compassionate place.
While Orthodox Judaism does not offer a practical or
meaningful path for Hannah and most of her contemporaries, neither does a
complete embrace of secular Judaism offer a compelling and attractive
alternative. To reject any semblance of Judaism’s essential connection to
monotheism and a belief in God, to any sense of the spiritual and faith-side of
Judaism, risks ignoring or forgetting Judaism’s place in the global project of
humankind. If Judaism has an essential task, it is to perform tikkun olam, to
heal and repair an imperfect world, to affirm life, seek justice, and create a
world in which the divine presence dwells among us all. In walking this path,
Hannah can add her voice to the symphony of voices that seek a meaningful life,
a meaningful faith, traditions worth retaining, and new traditions worth
creating. And she can help shape the future of Judaism for generations to
come. It is an exciting journey, and a scary one, and I hope I am around a long
time to see where it takes her.
Walking path in Haifa, Israel |
No comments:
Post a Comment