By William Berkson
In the previous installment in this series, I pointed out that there has been a quiet revolution in theology of liberal Jews. Most Reform Jews, including Rabbis, have rejected an interventionist God, but still accept and find meaningful a God who gives unity and purpose to the universe and to humanity.

The challenge this poses is highlighted in a long and thought-provoking article by Conservative scholar Jack Wertheimer, which has been noted by fellow RJ blogger Larry Kaufman. 

Wertheimer points out the key weakness of Reform today: in striving to be "inclusive", it also has weakened its message and self-definition to the point that only a minority Reform Jews really passionately identify with Judaism, and many care little and know little about Judaism.  And this weakness begins in religious school, where secondary Jewish education fails to attract the numbers of pre-b'nai mitzvah education, and where it often fails to develop any deep understanding or commitment in students.

As Larry pointed out, the main problem with Wertheimer's analysis is not that he is wrong about Reform, but that the same root problems exist in Conservative synagogues, because most people are mostly in the same place theologically.  They manifest themselves a bit differently in the Conservative movement, but the fundamental problem that must be faced if we are to have stronger liberal Judaism is that with a non-interventionist God, communal prayer is no longer a compelling need for most people. Do we are we sure that God doesn't listen to prayers?

No. And we sometimes hope and pray that God will listen and act in the world, as well as strengthen us within. But generally we lack the strong conviction that God is listening and will respond by intervention.

An illustration of reality of this situation is an experience a friend had after 9/11.  He was working in lower Manhattan, and saw the towers collapse, killing thousands. And so did almost everyone who worked in lower Manhattan. It was a personal and traumatic experience for everyone there.

My friend had been attending the Shul of New York a "spiritual Judaism" synagogue led by Reform Rabbi Burt Siegel. Rabbi Siegel, together with an amazing group of musicians lead inspiring services, designed in a get-closer-to-God 'Jewish renewal' spirit. That Friday night was strikingly different.

First, the place was packed to overflowing, and my friend saw normally secular and cynical Jews there whom he had never seen in synagogue. The second thing was that all the prayers, which can seem so extreme in their language, seemed to exactly suit what everybody had in their heart. That night, they came for prayer, and their prayers were a "plea for compassion and grace before the Holy Presence," (Avot 2:18).

These fervent prayers were unusual in a Reform synagogue because the whole synagogue--and many who never came before--had come to synagogue not for an emotional uplift, but because they felt a need for prayer. They wanted their prayers to be heard and something done. Doubts about how much God listens and would do were simply put aside.

Now I don't want to exaggerate. Reform Jews do pray with fervor at life cycle events, where the feelings of the occasion overwhelm doubts. But the reality is that a tiny minority of synagogue members regularly attend. The theology is just not there for weekly communal prayer being the center of Jewish life for liberal Jews.

There is, as they say, good news and bad news here. The good news is that most liberal Jews do believe in God, a God who gives unity and purpose to the universe and to our lives. And we experience the Holy Presence in our lives, particularly in intimate relationships, in nature, and in friendship, and for some of us in study. The bad news is that we don't experience God in the synagogue.

This remarkable fact is documented by Steven M. Cohen (of HUC) and Arnold M. Eisen (now President of JTS) in The Jew Within. They quote Jewish writer Cynthia Ozick as saying "The only place I don't feel Jewish is in synagogue." She may have meant it for different reasons (and it may be from another essay by Cohen) that a Reform Jew would, but it makes the point.

The question is then, given that a central ritual of Judaism is no longer as meaningful as it was for traditional Jews, what can Reform do that will make Judaism more compelling and central to the lives of the majority of Reform Jews--children and adults alike?

That I'll take up in my next posts.

Print

Email

Comment

Comments

Post a comment