Whither Reform Part II--Congratulating Rick Jacobs

Well, we got a partial answer today: Rabbi Rick Jacobs, senior rabbi of Westchester Reform Temple in Scarsdale New York (one of the most dynamic congregations in the country and one of the original Synagogue 2000 congregations) has been selected to be the new President of the Union for Reform Judaism. Himself a founder of S2K, active in the wider Jewish world, scholarship, and dance (he's a former choreographer and dancer of the Avodah Dance company), I have no doubt in my mind that he will do some dynamic and engaging things with the Reform Movement (no pun intended). I know he'll take the URJ where it needs to go; I hope he'll have the freedom of movement he needs to make real and serious institutional changes, and help the movement recommit to a vision and mission that fits. B'hatzlacha to him on this wonderful achievement. May he go from strength to strength.

Whither Reform?

To begin this post, let me be clear: I'm not shrying gavult over the fate of the Reform Movement, nor am I worried about its future--Reform Synagogues will continue with strength, along with the Camps, the Religious Action Center, and the College-Institute. The ethos of Reform will thrive long after I'm gone: egalitarianism, welcoming others, social justice, and embracing a Jewish life fully inclusive of modernity and modern values. Having said that, there is an anxiety out there, reflected in the article by David Ellenson I posted last week, and several articles in the Forward (and other places) on the future of Reform, including an article from a month (or more) ago on the efforts of some Reform rabbis to enter dialogue with the movement institutions about their future--especially that of the URJ--right when Rabbi Eric Yoffie is stepping down as President. (an effort I've signed off on, by the way).

So it's pretty clear that the Reform Movement's institutions are at a crossroads. Reform has never been more relevant as a practice, but what should be the priority (or priorities), the direction, of the Reform Movement as practiced by her institutions? Where should Reform go as a movement? How should it be structured? Who should lead the way? What do you think?

Kivie Kaplan

With all this talk about Human Rights (including a discussion tonight for Jewish Women's International), the subject of Kivie Kaplan came up. Anyone who grew up in the Reform Movement in New England--especially if they went to Camp Eisner--will know the name. A Jewish philanthropist and lifelong Reform Jew, he was a board member and eventually president of the NAACP (from the mid-50s until his death in the 70s). Can you imagine such a thing today? He remains a giant of social justice and an inspiration for us that has, sadly, been forgotten by too many, especially in an era where we spend too much time thinking about our own vine and fig tree and not enough reaching across color and religious divisions to seek real solutions to what ails us.

Reform Movement Think Tank

So about three weeks ago, the Reform Movement held a Think Tank, which was livestreamed across the internets for all to see and engage. At CBE we made a program of it and gathered a nice group of 20 or so to learn about the future of Judaism, technology, engagement, and the like.

Sadly, their system got totally overwhelmed by the number of people tuning in, so we ended up having the conversation ourselves (thankfully between my PEER experience and going to enough Biennials, and having some very smart friends--have you looked at their blogs in my blogroll?--I kinda knew where the conversation would go). Despite that, it was a great discussion, and now you can see the whole thing at the above link.

Forgot to mention

The URJ's magazine, Reform Judaism, included this blog in their blogroll, specifically my quoting an article regarding college-aged folks' commitment to Israel. You can find that article at Tablet here.

See below: Why it's dangerous to say Kaddish for any Movement

Whenever you talk about any of the movements--Reform, Orthodox, etc.--you tend to get a nice-sized helping of vitriol and hyperbole. Between predicting the demise of Conservative Judaism for what seems like eons (which is sort of like saying Soccer is the future sport of America--and always will be) to sounding the death knell for Orthodoxy in the 1950s to the recent hew-and-cry over the death of Reform, most recently from Norman Lamm, it's nice to read an article (posted below as well--I'm still figuring out all the doohickeys on this thing and hit the button too soon) from Rabbi (Doctor/Professor) Jonathan Sarna of Brandeis discuss Lamm's assertion and the movements in America in general in a calm, measured, historically-based fashion and without resorting to the kind of breathless, 'triumphalist' (to use his description of Lamm's piece) language that just sets discussion among klal Yisrael back 20 years each time. I won't lie, I'm a Reform Jewish partisan, but I also know that all the movements (including those movements that don't like to be called movements, and you know who you are) suffer if one (or more) of them is hurting. Americans crave choice and options and a full diversity of discourse--a polyphony, if you will--and this certainly applies to American Jews and their religiosity.

Reading this also made me wish I had the chance to study with Dr. Sarna; he had already left HUC by the time I got there. Hopefully I'll catch him at a conference at some point.

Seeing the Forest from the Trees (or what Shavuot means to this Reform Jew)

I seem to always be doing yardwork on Shavuot. This goes back to my own confirmation in 1992, when, after the oneg was done, the pictures taken and the robes were turned in, I went home and mowed the lawn. So this tradition continued today. After a wonderful service lead by our confirmation class, I came home, changed into my shleppies, and went out with tree saw and stump spray to cut a (much larger than I thought; otherwise I'd have used a power tool) dead branch off the tree in the front yard.

While cutting and schvitzing, it occured to me that none of this felt especially mitzvah-dik, you know? Here I am, on the third of the three pilgrimage festivals, on the day commemorating kabbalat Torah, Israel's accepting of the Torah, and I'm doing my best Dubya impersonation cutting brush. I mean, it wasn't like I even enjoy sawing for half an hour and schlepping the branches down to the woods--this was, without a doubt, avodah (work). But, I thought, when else do I have time to do it? And besides, I'm a Reform Jew.

Of course, as soon as I thought that, my inner hasid (or what Rabbi Michael Holzman calls the 'hasid on your shoulder) cringed. So is that all Reform Judaism means? That I can do whatever I want, as long as there's a veneer of Jewish tradition and a few paeans to social justice? All too often, I think many of us both in and outside of Progressive Judaism feel that way; that it means we care less, do less, observe less, feel less, are less. And it's easy to see how we fall down that rabbit hole; we focus so much on what we "fail" to do as Jews, measuring our Jewishness against some litmus test. "I don't keep kosher, I'm a bad Jew." or "I don't observe Shabbat."

If there's anything about Judaism that frustrates me endlessly, it's this notion. We fail to recognize and celebrate what we do, in fact, do, or we fail to connect our doing as especially "Jewish" doing, thus leaving our actions unrecognized Jewishly. And sometimes I think we fail to appreciate when Jews observe mitzvot (or 'invent' them; you'll see what I mean in a minute) in creative or interesting ways; that to keep vegetarianism for ethical or moral reasons, and therefore keeping Kosher by default, makes it less significant than if you're buying Rubashkin's (and you can see my sermon on that topic at the Shir Ami website, but I digress).

Thankfully, our kids this morning understood what it's all about. Their theme for the service was "Why stop at 10 commandments?" After studying the 10 commandments all year, knowing that they would read the aseret hadibrot today, and after looking at a list of 10 suggested 'modern' commandments created by Rabbi Elliot Strom, David Sandman, Rabbi Shira Joseph and myself, they asked themselves what their 11th commandment should be, would be. And then they described their own 11th (out of 613) commandments. Some spoke of loyalty and support of family, and friends. One railed against conspicuous consumerism, another spoke about caring for the elderly. A couple talked about preserving our heritage as Jews, one talked about the importance of Jewish learning.

Now, I can point to actual mitzvot either in Torah or the writings of cha'zal (the rabbinic literature) that relate to or directly correspond to our kids' 11th commandments. However, I applaud their creativity in coming up with these on their own, and understanding them as Jewish values. More than that, the fact that they appreciate that Torah is not merely a list of 10 or 613 commandments but a source of inspiration for their daily conduct, that Judaism can have an influence over their behavior in a positive way (and they can find Jewish roots in their ethics and values--and want to) gives me a great deal of pride. Even if they're not completely facile with the tradition (and really, who is?) I know that, at least at some level, these kids will turn to Torah, even as they put their own spin on their understanding and interaction with the mitzvot.

Much has been made of the deteriorating financial situation in the Jewish world, especially the Reform movement--the talk of closing campuses of Hebrew Union College, the actual closing of URJ offices, etc. But a movement is more than just a prayerbook, a campus, or an office. That's infrastructure, not Reform. Reform Judaism is what our kids practiced this morning as they stood at their Sinai to accept Torah; that the tradition is there for us to make our own, to reimagine, to make relevant and modernize, to make real, to expand upon. To see not only the trees of the individual mitzvot, but the forest of Torah waiting for each of us.