Judaism in the Thicket

Bresheit/Genesis 22:13 states “And Abraham raised his eyes and saw- behold, a ram! –  caught in the thicket by its horns; so Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as an offering instead of his son.” Abraham’s earlier defiance of his father was an attempt to follow God and believe in something better. And after his dedication was tested again with his own son, Abraham raised his eyes to discover a ram in the thicket. 15th century Italian commentator Sforno believes that it was only through the will of God that this ram sat there struggling, allowing Abraham to reflect on his own actions and move forward.  As a Conservative rabbi I too must wrestle in the thicket and believe my struggle is for a greater purpose for the Jewish people.

Last month I sat around a table with some of the brightest young rabbis I know and together we attempted to heed the words of Rabbi David Wolpe: redefine Conservative Judaism. I have long believed our answer was to the “right” of us, but with an open mind and heart I tried to re-envision our future with my dear colleagues. Together we tried to untangle the old slogan of “Tradition and Change” and through a combination of words, reinvigorate Conservative Judaism. Similar to “Tradition and Change” the title of Mordecai Waxman’s 1958 book, the table of talented rabbis sought to use “Relational Judaism” as an ode to Dr. Ron Wolfson’s work. As young rabbis we felt this was at the crux of what we do best. We went back and forth trying to find words that invoked meaning for those inside our sphere but relatable enough to those looking to join. Not an easy task.

In Waxman’s book he points to two principles that are central to the formation of the Conservative Movement;

1) The founders of Conservative Judaism had no intention of starting a new wing or denomination or party in Judaism. They did not even pretend to be modern Judaism. Their purpose and their philosophy were clearly expressed in the name they applied to themselves. They were conservative and their object was to conserve the Jewish traditions.

2) In making the conservation of the Jewish tradition their objective, the founders and leaders of Conservative Judaism were not blind to the pressures created by American Jewish scene and by the modern world. They recognized that the survival of Judaism was imperiled by non-observance, by ignorance and by intellectual confusion. But they were not prepared to make these factors the determinants of what Judaism is and should be.

In summation Conservative Judaism’s great venture was to ensure that Jews remained Jewish and its founders were unwilling to give up on that dream. And for many years, under the proper leadership, Conservative Judaism excelled and prospered because of these two principles.  And then as it were, the ram – Conservative Jews – came running towards the thicket called modernity. Unable to find the correct Abraham to release the ram, it remains, for us passionate and devoted Conservative Jews, locked in that thicket.

Maybe we have not found our Abraham(s) to unleash us from our struggle and I question whether we should be actively pursuing the means to break free? Is being in the thicket the strength of Conservative Judaism? Our table of rabbis considered other words like “dialogue” or “debate” because Judaism does actually lay in the thicket, struggling to get out. I am proposing that we begin to own that struggle. From the center that Conservative Judaism represents comes real conversation which is the crux of Judaism and has been for hundreds of years. The center today is actually the edge. While in my previous writings I have been overly sympathetic to my Orthodox colleagues, the truth is that the struggles within main stream Orthodoxy, while I am sensitive to them, are not ones I would ever want to take part in. A debate over the location of a Mechitzah or the legitimacy over each other’s Kosher certification are simply irrelevant to me. And I think Rick Jacob’s hit the nail on the head in his most recent speech at the URJ Convention when describing the realities of Reform Jews. I am an observant Jew. Not because I am a rabbi, in fact in spite of it. I want a Judaism that has an intimate Shabbat community, that wrestles with Kashrut in a city that hosts zero Kosher restaurants, and sometimes I want mixed seating and sometimes I do not. I want a synagogue body that is able to explore Judaism even against its own 50 year old traditions. We need Judaism where some synagogues have a musical Shabbat service while the synagogue down the street has a 30-minute-better-be-home-quickly Mincha/Maariv service.

Others want to tell me that the Conservative Movement’s problems stem top down and that the rabbis are too “frum/religious” for their own constituents; and so what? Should our rabbis not be religious exemplars? I spent the better part of my life trying to fit into a single community, only to find out that I did not fit in at all. And the best thing that any of us can do is be happy with our own Judaism before we try to help others. No one community will enable us to define Judaism. You might be a Jew who drives to synagogue on Shabbat but does not want mixed seating during services or you might have a non-Jewish spouse but have an incredibly strict Kosher home. That is Conservative Judaism; conserving traditions while not being blind to waves of modernity.

What I believe the table of rabbis I sat with figured out is that slogan or no slogan, Conservative Judaism is actually the most complex and diverse brand of Judaism. Someone suggested “Judaism: Come as you are” because we truly want all the voices in the room to be heard. We might not perform intermarriages because we believe in Waxman’s principles, but I cannot think of one of my rabbinical colleagues who is not welcoming of interfaith couples. I cannot think of one Conservative rabbi who does not help a patrilineal Jew the best s/he can. In the reality of today’s “playlist Judaism (Rabbi Kerry Olitzky),” the Conservative Movement’s centrality is the edgiest form of Judaism because together we have heated conversations that force each of us to develop deeper responses that are intensely personal and controversially communal. I continue to believe it needs more “right” and I am sure there are others who believe it needs more “left.” But it is the debate, the struggle, the thicket that drives us to our sacred moments with God that Abraham secured for us long ago.