Response to Rabbi Ain's Pandemic Questions

I recently read an article by Rabbi Dan Ain in Tablet titled "The Four Questions of the Pandemic." I thought the premise had potential and I opened the article expecting a nuanced and thoughtful piece about what it means to lead and make community in these difficult times. As an active member of my Jewish community, a Jewish parent, and a Jewish professional, I knew that Rabbi Ain would be taking on tough issues with no easy answers. To my surprise and frustration, the article I read had neither nuance nor deep thought. Instead, Rabbi Ain took 1000 words to essentially say "I'm done."

So I'd like to take a few moments to unpack some of Rabbi Ain's accusations about the Jewish response to the pandemic and attempt to offer something of the nuance and thought I'd been hoping to find. Let's begin with Rabbi Ain's first accusation.

"If I can place my finger on the pulse of what’s been so dizzying to me—among an array of upside-downness—it is the refusal to ask questions. It is as though Jewish leaders took an oath of silence regarding pandemic measures, when Judaism itself is built on a foundation of inquiry and engagement." 

First, I would suggest that Rabbi Ain needs to reach out to more people in the Jewish community and Jewish communal leadership. Plenty of people are asking questions. I am in three separate Facebook groups specifically dedicated to conversations among Jewish professionals about Covid, in addition to the regular questions about Covid in pre-existing Jewish professional groups. Just within the synagogue world Rabbi Ain and I inhabit (let's leave aside other Jewish organizations like JCCs for now), these groups include rabbis and cantors, religious school educators, executive directors and program directors, and parents, all looking for ways to balance the competing Jewish values of communal gathering and public safety. On a more local level, congregants are definitely asking their synagogues what the health guidance is and when their favorite or most-needed aspects of the community will return in a mode meaningful to them (whether in-person, multi-access/hybrid, or virtual). Most synagogues I know have convened committees and task forces dedicated to asking questions and reevaluating the ever-changing guidance about Covid. Rabbis, directors, educators, and programmers are talking to our counterpoints at other shuls to compare notes. When synagogues make changes to their mask or vaccine policies, they send detailed information about the changes and are often transparent about the source of their policy (whether it is guidance from the CDC, their local health department, doctors within their membership, or a combination). Jewish leaders love to cite our sources, after all. If these are not questions that Rabbi Ain's community is asking him or steps that he and his leadership are taking, perhaps he should be asking himself why that is and how he can encourage that, rather than accusing the Jewish community at large of silence.

Quote of the Week: Anti-Semitism

In May, the US Holocaust Memorial Museum interviewed Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks for their Voices on Antisemitism podcast series. His comments seem especially appropriate in the current global climate.

"People trying to understand antisemitism study Jews, but Jews are always only the objects of antisemitism, they are never the cause of antisemitism. And the result is that you find antisemitism in countries like Japan that have no Jews at all. So when you try and understand antisemitism by looking at Jews you're looking in the wrong place. To understand antisemitism you have to learn to understand antisemites."

Listen to the entire insightful interview with Rabbi Sacks here and subscribe to future USHMM podcasts for free on iTunes.

Count the Omer: Days 39 & 40

Days 37 & 38 | Day 41

Day 39: Netzach sheb'Yesod, Endurance within Connection

"'Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.' And He added, 'So shall your offspring be.' And because he put his trust in the Lord, He reckoned it to his merit." Genesis 15:5-6

This promise exemplifies endurance within connection. Through Abraham's connection with God, he gave birth to a nation as numerous as the stars, a nation that has endured the tests of time. Nowhere, however, does God promise that those offspring will remain Jewish. Two years ago, Rabbi Eric Yanoff in the Main Line suburbs of Philadelphia, gave a d'var about passing on Judaism.

"Every generation," he said, "fears that it will be the last generation of Judaism." Not through some horrific event, like the Holocaust, but through a failure to connect with the next generation. Every generation fears that they will somehow fail to pass on their Jewish values, to engage the incoming generation in Jewish life in a meaningful and long-lasting way.

We are quickly approaching Shavout, a holiday that is all about connection. Shavuot celebrates the receiving of the Torah at Sinai, the establishment of a lasting relationship between God and the Jewish people. Each year, as we celebrate by eating cheesecake and staying up all night to learn and study, we create that connection with God all over again.

Day 40: Hod sheb'Yesod, Majesty within Connection
The Torah is a guide for our lives. It details relationships between individuals, between tribes, and between Israel and God. In just ten days we will celebrate the day that God gave us the Torah, thus providing us with a manual for how to connect with God and with others, and how to incorporate Judaism into our daily lives.

Response to Rabbi Cosgrove's Conservative Conversion Proposal

Rabbi Elliot Cosgrove of Park Avenue Synagogue in New York has caused quite a stir in the Jewish blogging community over a recent d'var Torah, entitled "An Immodest Proposal."

There is so much I want to say about Rabbi Cosgrove's "back-of-the-napkin," "trial balloon" proposal, but right off the bat, I would like to make a general observation about the conversion conversation. I would appreciate seeing the topic of conversion discussed more often in its own right, detached from the intermarriage issue. Yes, sometimes the two topics are related and warrant a joint discussion. However, just because some of us may have "found" Judaism through a relationship with a born-Jew, doesn't mean we converted "for" them or that the discussion has to include anything more on the interfaith aspect than that. I have ranted about my frustration with converting "for" someone on multiple occasions.

Moving on! Rabbi Cosgrove's sermon is worth reading in full, but I am going to pull out my "favorite" parts to discuss here. Please feel free to share your thoughts on my critique or on another part of his sermon in the comments!

"And while some of my Reform colleagues do not perform intermarriages, the unintended consequence of this patrilineal resolution, as you can imagine, is dis-incentivizing the act of conversion altogether. After all, if a rabbi will marry you and the kids are Jewish anyway - why go through the whole rigmarole at all?"

This is just one of many comments that Rabbi Cosgrove made throughout this sermon lamenting the "dis-incentivizing" of conversion, but why exactly are we "incentivizing" it? What happened to turning a potential convert away three times? And if the potential convert considers conversion an annoying "rigmarole" as a means to a handful of specific ends (a Jewish wedding and Jewish kids), then maybe they shouldn't be converting to Judaism in the first place. When you convert, you are supposed to count yourself among the Jewish people, take on a Jewish identity, and accept the mitzvot, so "why go through the whole rigmarole" if that's not your intention?

"Probably the most famous narrative about conversion in the Talmud is the story of the would-be-convert who approaches first Shammai and then Hillel, asking to learn the entire Torah while standing on one foot. Shammai hits him with a stick – effectively telling him to get lost. Hillel, famously, converts him right away, telling him 'That which is hateful to you, do not do your fellow. That is the entire Torah. The rest is commentary. Go and learn.' The order of events is often missed, but it is instructive for us today. First Hillel converts, then Hillel teaches. First you join and then, once you are a vested member, you figure out what it's all about."

I love this story - so much so that it inspired my blog name - but I think that it is being misused here. The life of a convert, just like that of a born-Jew, is (or should be) a life of continuous learning. Knowing "what it's all about" is not a prerequisite for conversion, but there are a few things you should know before committing to be Jewish for the rest of your life. In this story, Hillel teaches his convert "the entire Torah" before converting him. Traditionally, we read the entire Torah in a one year cycle (three years in some synagogues), so I could just as easily cite this story as precedence for the common practice of requiring one year of study before conversion.

I am also a bit confused as to how Rabbi Cosgrove's "convert them first" plan would actually be implemented. He suggests regularly scheduled conversion times at the beginning of every month with follow up classes about Judaism in which the convert would be automatically enrolled, with no guarantee that they would actually attend, of course. That aside, would they go through the beit din and mikveh right away? Would the beit din still ask them if they were ready to take on Judaism, the good and the bad? Who could possibly answer that question at such an early stage? Not only that, but at what point would you circumcise a male convert? I can't imagine that a man would agree to circumcision without fully understanding the significance of it and deciding to commit fully to a Jewish life. Coming to understand, appreciate, and love Judaism takes time and learning. He cites "na'aseh v'nishmah" ("we will do and we will hear") as another reason to convert first, teach second. I have commented on this phrase from Exodus 24:7 before in relation to conversion, so I will only say here that I think Rabbi Cosgrove is ignoring a key element of "na'aseh v'nishmah," namely that when the Jews originally said it in Exodus, they were already Jews. The "we will do" part that came first was about taking on the mitzvot, not an entirely new identity as a Jew.

"Quite frankly, given the option of being misled by would-be Jews lacking integrity, or running the risk of losing potential Jewish households, I would choose the former over the latter any day of the week. I am in the business, we are in the business, of creating Jewish homes."

I have to wonder how often, if ever, Rabbi Cosgrove deals with converts or potential converts who are doing it for themselves out of a personal love of Judaism and desire to be part of the Jewish people. His outlook strikes me as incredibly hurtful to that group of us, as we are the ones who would be (and currently are) lumped in with those "would-be Jews lacking integrity" and forced to overcompensate to prove our integrity. I, for one, appreciate the slow learning approach to conversion. I not only appreciated the time and effort my rabbi took with me during my seven month conversion process as an important preparation for Jewish life, but I appreciate it now as a way to safeguard against Rabbi Cosgrove's "would-be Jews" who cast suspicion on the rest of us.* I think the Rabbinical Assembly (the Conservative Movement's association of rabbis) put it best in their position paper on non-halakhic conversions: "These objective halakhic criteria, which alone protect the purity of Jewish identity, should not be compromised in the interests of an ultimately meaningless Jewish unity."

*I know I'm coming across as incredibly harsh here, so let me just state for the record that I am not at all suggesting that rabbis close their doors to potential converts. I am (and this should be obvious) pro-conversion. My negativity here stems from consistently for multiple years now being on the defensive about my conversion from people who question my motives and the motives of all converts. That said, it's not all bad. In fact, I think it's safe to say that most people I tell are genuinely supportive.

I will end on a note of agreement, because I like to stay positive.

"...it strikes me as problematic verging on hypocritical to ask or expect converts to live according to a lifestyle that I do not demand of the rest of synagogue membership."

I don't think that this double standard is something I have discussed on my blog and, to be honest, it's not something I think about much anymore, but it used to really bother me during my conversion process and right after my conversion. Converts are often held to a higher standard than born-Jews when it comes to keeping the mitzvot. My legitimacy can be called into question, unofficially or officially, if I am less observant. However, if I had been born Jewish, then I would be Jewish without question, even if I ate a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich every morning and never observed Shabbat. It used to really bother me that there are Jews who wouldn't consider me Jewish, because I didn't convert in their movement, while born-Jews get a free pass in a sense. I'm not really sure when that stopped bothering me; it just slowly phased out of my thoughts. My observance of the mitzvot is between me and God and it doesn't make a difference to my level of observance what the Jew down the street does or doesn't do. Nonetheless, I appreciate Rabbi Cosgrove's acknowledgement of this issue.

Shabbat Shalom! Don't forget to "spring forward" this Sunday for Daylight Savings Time!

The Etrog

A Sukkot story, courtesy of Rabbi Fred Kazan at Kesher Israel in Philadelphia:

Once upon a time, there was a king who was unhappy. One night, the king had a dream in which God told him that he would be made happy again by a citrus fruit. In the morning, he summoned his advisors and asked them to find him this fruit. The advisors put their heads together to think about which fruits brought the most happiness and they came back to the king with a round orange fruit.

"Oranges," they said, "are the happiest fruit. They smell good and taste good."

So the king ordered orange trees planted throughout the land and soon he had orange groves and became rich(er) off the sale of orange juice. But the king was still unhappy.

His advisors thought some more and came back with a large round fruit. "The grapefruit is healthy and will help lower your cholesterol," they told the king. So the king had grapefruit trees planted throughout the kingdom. Eating the grapefruits helped him lose weight and he became more physically fit. But the king was still unhappy.

His advisors brought him one last fruit. "This one is great," they said. "You can put it in your water and use it to season chicken or fish. It is zesty!" The king had lemon trees planted and they did put zest in his life. But he was still unhappy.

The king's advisors were out of ideas. "Isn't there anyone in this kingdom who can help me?" the king asked. His advisors responded, "There is a man, a Jewish sage. He is a learned man who has a close relationship with God. He may know the fruit you seek." They brought the sage before the king and the king said, "I am unhappy and God has told me that only a citrus fruit can restore my happiness. Do you know of such a fruit?"

The sage smiled. "Of course," he told the king. "The answer is obvious - the fruit you want is named for citrus. It is called a citron, or an etrog."

"Perfect! What will it do for me?" the king asked.

"Nothing. It can't be used to cook. it doesn't taste good, and it won't help your diet."

"I don't need any of those things," the king said. "I have become wealthy from orange juice sales, my health is excellent because of all the grapefruit I eat, and I feast on lemon chicken every night. This etrog can't do anything else for me?"

"No," the sage responded. "The etrog is a fruit for the man who has everything."

The king thought. He had wealth and health and delicious meals. He did indeed have everything. So he took the etrog and he was happy.

Quote of the Week: Etz Chaim

"The Torah is the tree of life to those who hold fast to it and whoever holds it is happy. Its ways are ways of pleasantness and all its paths are peace." -Rabbi Fred Kazan, Kesher Israel, Philadelphia

Quote of the Week: Judaism is...

"Judaism is a lifelong search for God." -Rabbi Flip Rice, Congregation Micah, Brentwood, TN

Book Review: Doing Jewish Theology by Rabbi Neil Gillman

Worth reading? Sure

Doing Jewish Theology is a contemplation of myth, ritual, and practice in liberal Judaism by Conservative Rabbi Neil Gillman. In it, he discusses the divinity of the Torah, halacha, the indefinable nature of God, rabbinical education, life after death, and chaos, all topics I was excited to read about.

Before I begin, I need to note that I will be using "liberal Judaism" in this post as Gillman uses it to denote non-Orthodox or non-literal branches of Judaism, specifically Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist.

My biggest problem with the book is the last chapter: "In Praise of Birkat Kohanim." The Birkat Kohanim (Priestly Blessing) has gone out of fashion in liberal branches of Judaism, mainly because of its hierarchical and un-egalitarian structure. Gillman argues that it should be reinstated because he finds it to be a powerful ritual and thinks that it adds "drama" and allows for more congregant participation in what is otherwise a fairly spectator-leader service. Egalitarianism and outdated hierarchies aside, he seems to be motivated mainly by the fact that he is a kohen. He wants to make the Birkat Kohanim more egalitarian so that he can share it with his daughters, since he has no sons (kohen/priestly status was passed down from Aaron, Moses' brother, through the male line only, so daughters cannot be kohanim).

The self-serving overtones of this chapter could have been subdued by better placement in the book. Even if it had been placed just a chapter before, between his third-to-last and second-to-last chapters on ritual and chaos, respectively, it would have made a significant difference in my overall impression of the book. For one thing, since the Birkat Kohanim is a prayer and ritual, it would have flowed better following the chapter on ritual. It felt tacked onto the end, almost forced. The Birkat Kohanim chapter is only five pages long, so I could have easily forgotten it if there had been another chapter before the book ended. Instead, I have to struggle to remember the earlier parts of the book that I felt were better argued or made more interesting points.

Rabbi Gillman spends a long time in the first few chapters discussing the various works of Abraham Joshua Heschel and other Jewish philosophers and theologians. While I think I might have gotten more out of those sections of the book if I had read more Heschel beforehand, overall, I enjoyed Heschel's philosophy and Rabbi Gillman has inspired me to read more of his work.

The other major point of this book that stood out to me was halacha and what constitutes an halachic movement. Gillman offers a very candid analysis of the Conservative movement's theology and views of halacha and the problems that arise in trying to explain their decisions to their congregants. Halacha in the liberal branches of Judaism is incredibly interesting. In Orthodox Judaism, halacha is believed to literally be God's laws. Gillman rejects this literalism. His argument rests on three liberal assumptions (found on pages 171-3 of Doing Jewish Theology):

1. Human language is inadequate and all our characterizations of God are metaphors. 
2. Liberal Jews accept a human component in Torah. Here he, again, quotes Heschel (among others): "Torah is a midrash on revelation." 
3. Halacha is the Jewish community's understanding of God's will 

Basically, humans are incapable of capturing the essence of God in speech, thus the Torah was our best attempt at recording what God said, but ultimately halachic law is based on human understanding and when our community's understanding of God's will changes, we should be able to take steps to change the laws. In the Conservative Movement, this has led to the reversal of the halachic law that says a kohen (of the priestly class) cannot marry a divorcee. On the other hand, the Conservative movement maintains halacha on the issue of Jewish identity and does not recognize patrilineal descent. Traditionally, Jewishness is passed on through the mother, so by not recognizing patrilineal descent, the child of a Jewish father and non-Jewish mother is not considered Jewish without undergoing a conversion. I'm not sure where I fall on issues of halacha at this point, but I appreciated Gillman's in depth look at halacha, the history of halacha in liberal Judaism, and the benefits and problems the Conservative movement faces with their particular brand of halacha.

Rabbi Gillman covers many other excellent topics in this book, including creation, eschatology, Rabbinical education, rituals and myths, and chaos.

Shabbat Shalom!