Who Needs Denominations?
Several weeks ago, an American law professor who serves on his synagogue's search committee for a new rabbi put forward the provocative argument that the process was not only stifling but illegal. The culprit, he wrote, was the highly restrictive role played by national rabbinic bodies, especially the Conservative movement's Rabbinical Assembly and the Reform movement's Central Conference of American Rabbis. (He reserved judgment on the less elaborate placement procedures of Orthodoxy and Reconstructionism.)
The professor may or may not be right on the law. But his article, taken together with other developments like the emergence of the liberal Orthodox International Rabbinic Fellowship and the non-denominational rabbinical school of Boston's Hebrew College, as well as the rising popularity of pluralist "community schools" and independent prayer groups (minyanim)—and, above all, the fact that membership numbers in Conservative and Reform congregations are static or falling—leads one to ask, not for the first time, what exactly American Jewish religious denominations are for.
Pre-modern Jewry was organized in communal structures (kehillot). The dissolution of those structures, voluntary in some instances and forcible in others, was one of the defining features of Jewish modernization. The denominations we see today represent an effort to reconstitute some sort of collective identity and institutional heft under the changed circumstances of modernity. They also reflect, in both structure and name, a set of ideological struggles dating back 200 years.
In Europe, the modernizing Reform movement conjured itself into being as a self-consciously distinctive group in the early 19th century. In response, Orthodoxy emerged not long after, reaffirming tradition as a self-conscious, and now countercultural, ideology and taking very different forms in Western and Eastern Europe. The Conservative movement as we now know it, proclaiming at once a loyalty to tradition and openness to change, developed over decades and in the U.S. achieved an identity of its own only in the 1920s.
Recognizing the historical contingency and limits of the old denominational labels is the necessary first step toward thinking about them usefully. Today's American Jewish denominations are very much the products of their time and place and of the specific circumstances of American religious life as a whole, heavily shaped as that life has been by essentially Protestant nomenclature and modes of organization. Interestingly, the denominational structure is dramatically different from that prevailing in Israel or other places in the world. No less interestingly, the denomination registering the greatest current growth, or at least the greatest internal retention rate, is the one with the least centralized structure and the most thoroughgoing demands on the faithful—namely, Orthodoxy.
So is the denominational structure hopelessly obsolete, as the rise of alternative congregations and rabbinical training schools suggests, and should the movements be thinking strenuously of ways to reconfigure themselves? There is, as it happens, plenty of thinking going on, and plenty of experimentation even within the denominational template. But there may also be sound reasons why no new structure has yet emerged alongside or in place of any of the existing movements, and why no sort of formal merger appears anywhere on the horizon—even though each of them, including Orthodoxy, has been borrowing and incorporating elements from each of the others for decades. It would seem that, quite apart from the inherent difficulties of any institutional change, the movements' enduring and genuine differences—ideological, sociological, and cultural—remain compelling enough to make any large-scale transformation unthinkable: a situation that in turn encourages some to go on exploring the territory beyond or in between the margins.
The crucial distinction may lie between those who explore and those who drift away altogether. The sociologist Steven Cohen has written of a dual process of non- and post-denominationalism. The former term refers to those who maintain only minimal ties to formal Jewish life as a whole and who intermarry in substantial numbers; the latter, those who remain deeply committed and engaged but who express their commitment outside the large formal structures of the denominations.
"Express" is a key word here. If one feature of modern life is the ascendance of reason and science as sources of knowledge and authority, another is expressiveness, the conviction that the truth is to be found in one's own subjectivity and in the recesses of one's own experience and passions. This impulse, helped along by new technologies and forms of organization that make for more diffuse structures of authority and belief, and by currents like feminism that link the expressive ideal with the demand for equality, has powerfully reworked all of contemporary religion. In Western societies today, even the most stringent form of traditionalism is chosen; if it does not find an echo in the subjective experience of the individual, it will not long endure.
But there is another way of looking at the relation between the impulse to maintain boundaries and the impulse to push beyond them. The late anthropologist Victor Turner observed in The Ritual Process that social and religious life proceeds through a dialectic of structure and anti-structure. Both are essential, the one for continuity, order, and responsibility, the other for meaning, passion, and critique. This systole-and-diastole motion can be seriously destructive if it springs from self-indulgence or slides into mere argumentativeness. When driven by real commitment, it may be one of the healthiest features of Jewish life.
In defense of the denominational system, there is strength in unity. The denominations bring together like-minded Jews. That very coming together enables them to address Jewish issues in a serious fashion from a common ideological baseline. Working from such an ideological baseline, as they grapple with hard questions, their sharing of perspectives feeds their creativity; a creativity which ultimately produces solutions which have the capacity to keep our Judaism vibrant and meaningful, while moving us forward with the times. In the Reform movement, I have witness such a creative process as we struggled with such central issues as intermarriage, Patrilineal Descent, the role of the non-Jew in the synagogue, the admission to our congregations of people with a same sex orientation, along with the formal acknowledgment of their right to serve on the staff of congregations, and shortly following those decisions, their right to be ordained as rabbis and invested as cantors, and then, most recently, the right rabbis who so choose to officiate at same sex wedding ceremonies. These decisions were not blithely arrived at. They were examined, discussed, debated, and only after serious consideration and dialogue, affirmed. This could never have been accomplished if there was no common ideological baseline underlying this process; if it was conducted by Jews of every stripe and orientation coming together. For in such a scenario, in the end, nothing can be agreed upon, for no one would accept any particular standards to hold fast for all Jews, everywhere.
Another aspect of the strength of unity that denominations provide can be found in the additional services which they provide to their member congregations. These services include such things as the support and establishment of seminaries which train rabbis, cantors, educators, and social workers, summer camps which provide immersion Jewish experiences for our children, youth movements for our teenagers, the development of programming and religious school curricula as well as the publication of textbooks and materials, and a network of congregational consultants whose expertise in their particular fields - whether it be in Jewish education, synagogue administration, fund raising, etc - is made available to assist member congregations. All of these services, provided by denominational bodies, strengthen our congregations and empower them to offer a higher quality of Jewish life to their membership.
And yes, there are those restrictive rules. Rules are not only a burden, but also a protection. This is particularly so when it comes to the relationships between congregations and their professionals. There is an enforceable code of conduct imposed upon the professionals which protect the congregations, and there is an enforceable code of conduct imposed upon the congregations which protect the professional. Without such codes, chaos would reign in the arena of professional - congregational relations. There would be only a thin foundation of trust between them and no recourse should either side violate that trust.
And finally, there is the great need that the denominations meet when it comes to being an organized voice in the public forum for their membership. While "every man for himself" may sound like a liberating phenomenon, no single Jew, and no single congregation can provide significant impact when it comes to matters of general public concern. In such an environment, the Jewish voice would be lost.
Contrary to the premise of this article, denominations are the source of our strength, and not our undoing.
Instead of Victor Turner's rather pompous formulation, I would suggest the Wal-Mart model: let us think of ourselves, if we are Reform or unobservant Jews, as good Jews; if we are Conservative Jews,as better Jews, and if we are Orthodox or Torah-true as best Jews.
That's a great answer, Independent Patriot. Me, I usually say I am a generic Jew.
Sooner or later, the ideological and cultural differences which Mr. Mirsky suggests inhibit transformation (oblique synonym for merger?) will give way to economic realities, because no one can afford the duplicative structures that exist today. The sociological differences among the non-Orthodox streams have long been gone.
Trying to turn around the negativism in Independent Patriot's and Shriber's formulation, we can assert that our various approaches to Judaism share enough core affinities that we can overlook our differences. Unfortunately, that view may be pervasive in the non-Orthodox community, but it has no place at all in much of the Orthodox community. And thus it is an insufficient response to Mr. Mirsky's challenges.
This is exemplified by Grasmere10's inane assertion that that how "good a Jew" someone is can be measured by denominational identification or commitment to stringent ritual practice. Rob is correct that lifestyle no longer allows us to differentiate between Reform and Conservative Jews -- which validates Ms. Hecht's suggestion that the label applied to the congregation does not necessarily transfer to its members. (The other part of Rob's comment, trying to distinguish Reform from Reformed, is too ignorant to warrant rebuttal.)
Surveys such as the recent one by the Avi Chai Foundation on Hebrew Schools point to a fundamental shift as many Jews are choosing to send their children to Chabad Hebrew Schools, which is a major bond of synagogue membership.
This represents a deeper trend also. Instead of supporting the move away from tradition that is at the core of the agenda of the American liberal movements, Jews are voting with their feet to strengthen their bond with tradition by going to Chabad.
While the classical Orthodox synagogue members are primarily Shomer Shabbat, a new model is emerging. Jews who attend Chabad Centers, who are slowly increasing their personal commitment to Judaism but not fully Orthodox/observant. This trend represents a fundamental shift in modern Jewish life.
In communities where Chabad centers have evolved from small storefront operations to proper community centers and synagogues the trend is more marked. As more Chabad centers open, and those presently embryonic mature, chances are the numbers of American Jews that shift their primary-and at times secondary ( I go to my Temple, but I attend classes etc. at Chabad) affiliation to Chabad will grow markedly.
Mr. Eliezrie also attributes the growth of Chabad to Jews seeking to strengthen their bond to tradition, even as he wrongly asserts that the move away from tradition is at the core of the liberal movements. Both the Reform and the Conservative movements have become more "traditional" than they once were.
I would attribute much of the growth of Chabad to a business model that separates the delivery of services from the funding of the operations. Jews without any strong ideological convictions, just an atavistic desire to keep their kids Jewish, choose Chabad Hebrew schools because the price is right and the timetable for bar mitzvah preparation can be accelerated without requiring the three to five years in religious school that most Reform and Conservative congregations require.
We in the liberal movements have much to learn from Chabad -- in particular, hachnasat orchim and the separation between kemach and Torah.
There is an additional problem when Jewish identity becomes a matter of affiliation. Tremendous energy is devoted to defining Judaism, i.e., "what is reform Judaism," "what is conservative Judaism," etc. Aside from restricting the range of one's vision, the main thing - strengthening the will and vitality of the Jewish people, in general - is neglected.
I also think the question perpetuates the divisive issues it attempts to address.
The challenge or issue, as I see it, is not so much denominational or "religious" difference. What is most troubling about this type of conversation is that Jews do not treat each other according to the most basic tenets of the Torah.
Almost everyone seems to have an opinion about their particular affiliation or the other ones, and lots of Jews sincerely believe they are correct.
The lack of courtesy, respect, and acceptance of the fact that we are all Jews is profoundly troubling. How we live with each other is of critical importance - whether it is in the diaspora or in Israel.
And incidentally, why wasn't Mr. Schriber's answer good enough to teach his children if it's good enough for him?
Just my $0.02 worth.
As for the denominations, the centrifuge of Jewish existence will determine, ultimately, what is relevant and what resonates with those actually living their Jewish lives. Denominations may provide a "truth in advertising" baseline, so people somewhat know what they may expect in a given experience, but beyond that, it remains to be seen.
1. No question Chabad is a world unto itself. But it represents a major shift in modern Jewish life. Many Jews who would self identify as non Orthodox are finding themselves part of a community that at its core is dedicated to traditional Jewish principles of Torah and Halacha.
2. Many are leaving Conservative in particular as it drifts closer to Reform (and Reform itself moves closer to tradition). Issues like Gay Marriage etc. are driving people towards Chabad.
3. The new business model is also a factor. But what it basically does is stop frontloading extensive fees. As people become more involved in Chabad they choose to increase their support.
4. The frequently heard complaints like that of Larry Kaufman that the demands are less in Hebrew School etc. It’s clear from the Avi Chai Study this is not true. Chabad has created a new kind of program that is very successful on its own merits. And what usually happens is a deepening of a bond between the Jew and the Rabbi. In Chabad Centers that are based on a smaller demographic the personal relationship is much stronger between the rabbi and congregant then larger liberal congregations. Invariably this relationship is a stimulus for more intense Jewish engagement.
However when viewed through the lens of Tanach there is a parallel in the choice of the Israelite people between living in chaos as in the period of the Judges and to live like other nations with a king. The king provided structure and security but G-d was more pleased when we did not live under a king.
1 Samuel 8:7 (Mechon Mamre version - JPS 1917)
"And the LORD said unto Samuel: 'Hearken unto the voice of the people in all that they say unto thee; for they have not rejected thee, but they have rejected Me, that I should not be king over them."
Modernized denominations seek to rationalize and emasculate our history and beliefs, embarrassed with a G-d who talks to men and creates miracles. Chabad refreshingly speaks of an active G-d while allowing people the freedom to live as they see fit. Modern denominations offer us ethnic and philosophical clothing whereas groups like Chabad present a spiritual and religious experience that satisfies a different thirst.
I too, am a generic Jew who speaks Hebrew and is learning Yiddish, who keeps a kosher home, and observes a certain degree of Shabbos. As to what I would affiliate with it depends from country to country.
In the United States or Canada I would only affiliate Orthodox, because I feel that Orthodoxy there is very dynamic and diverse and it preserves tradition and encourages learning. Also, North American Jewry is not centrally organized, which enables it to allow for a wide variety of expressions, from the yeshivishe to Chabad to traditional Sephardi and German communities, to centrist Orthodoxy and finally, this new and exciting liberal Orthodoxy which is emerging.
In Israel, where religion is highly politicized and the Orthodox world is divided into uniformalizing sects, I would affiliate with this new secular spiritual movement, because it celebrates Judaism as a culture and promotes Jewish spirituality and learning without all the dogmatism and stratification that characterizes Israeli Orthodoxy.
In Britain and Europe I would affiliate Masorti, because the Orthodoxy there is very centrally organized and not as dynamic and creative as in America. Also, Masorti is very traditional in those places and at the same time, it is open to converts, which Orthodoxy in those countries is not.
In a place like South Africa, I would affiliate Reform, because Reform there is traditional by nature and it is the only viable alternative to a right-wing, centrally organized Orthodoxy that I find very stifling.
We are Jews in this house because of our attachment to 3500 years of history and tradition. It defines who we are and where we are going.We do not accept others versions of how we are to love and practice our heritage, nor do we let others define what kind of Jew we are. We are Jews plain and simple and pretty damn proud of it too.
BTW I am also not male. Interestingly with the pen-name I use, that seems to be a common mistake. Wonder why?
As mentioned by Mr. Elienzie-with Chabad, the groups are usually so (comparitively) small (as compared to the Reform and Conservative Shuls, that the Rabbi knows the people by name, their families, their problems, etc., and the people know the Rabbi, his family, their problems, etc.
Comapred to the mega Temples with a few hundred members-does the Rabbi really know all of the members, their problems, etc?
A few months ago, I was at a function, and a Chabad Rabbi (NOT where I go, but whom I have met at variosu times, and spoken to) sought me out-he knew that I knew a woman who went to his Shul-and he knew she had family illness issues. He hadn't been able to reach her, so he asked me if I knew her current situation, and to relay the mesage, he is praying for her and her family, and she could contact him at any time.
On an occasion, a few hours before Erev Yom Kippur, this woman's daughter was rushed to a hospital. I tried reaching the Rabbi, could not, called ANOTHER CHABAD RABBI who did not know this person-never saw or spoke to her; he dropped everything and rushed to the hospital to see her, to try and comfort her. He got home in time to change and go to Kol Nidre- his fast was an extra 2 or 3 hours. When I asked why he did it, he replied simply, "she is a Jew; her daughter is a Jew." How many Reform or Conservative Rabbis would do this, before Kol Nidre, for someone whom they do not know, who goes to another Shul?
The Chabad rabbi who was absent from Kol Nidrei services, deserves my deepest respect, for he did the same thing as the Chassidim did 200 years ago. One Berditcher Rebbi was on his way to shul, and heard a woman who had just given birth to a boy in the village. Her husband had left for prayers.
There are no labels here - only opportunities to fulfill the two great commandments
the Sh'ma and v'ahavta l'reicha Kamocha. The rest of the laws are a commentary on how to do these two.
As an extreme but not unknown example, I suggest that a shomer-shabbos three-amidah a day fellow who beats his wife would more likely be accepted in many Jewish communities than a shomer-shabbos three-amidah a day woman who is a Torah reader in her congregation. Well, happily not so in my Jewish community.
As a self-identifier, I am the kind of Jew who had a Jewish mother. And- I learned more from her about being truly Jewish than any other person I've ever known.
I also suggest another factor discussed in the article is the encouraged high birth rate (hence, higher counts) amongst the orthodox; indeed mothers with few children are socially labelled as not fulfilling their Jewish duty in very-orthodox communities. That is definitely NOT the kind of Jewishness I would want to associate with.
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For what ever reason the Jewish community has fragmented itself into who are the "true believing real Jews" and those whom others decide are the apostate Jews.This is the doings of the rabbinate and I don't care which denomination you are from. From the Orthodox who turn their noses down at the Reform to the Reform who look upon the Orthodox as an anachronism I find it all repugnant. I have decided and have taught my children to answer the which kind of Jew question with this: I am the kind of Jew that Hitler would have killed and the enemies of the Jewish people want to kill today. I think that says it all.