Sermons
Walking Judaism Street[1]
Rosh Hashanah 5768
September 13, 2007 – 1 Tishrei 5768
by Rabbi Jared Saks
I have the
same conversation with myself around the third day of Passover
every year: I could really go for a spicy tuna roll. Or maybe
some salmon nigiri. Or even a cup of miso soup. But each year,
I have to ignore my sushi craving. The reason is twofold: rice
and soybeans. According to Ashkenazi custom, both rice and soybeans
are considered hametz, forbidden foods during Passover. But
for Sephardim, Jews whose practice originated in Spain, neither
are forbidden. Among the Ashkenazi rabbis, the concern is that
when rice or beans are ground into flour, they can be mistaken
for other flours that are forbidden during Passover –
wheat, barley, oats, and so forth. But the Sephardim have adhered
to the notion that though ground rice or beans may look like
wheat flour, they are, in fact, not wheat flour and are permitted.
Each year I intend to make time to study the laws of Passover
before Passover arrives so that I can make an educated decision
about whether or not I will eat these foods that sit the fence,
that the Sephardim eat but the Ashkenazim don’t. But each
year because I haven’t made the time to learn, I forego
the sushi, make myself a matzah pizza, and promise that the
next year will be different.
Reform Jewish practice affords me the privilege of making a
decision, even though I am not a Sephardic Jew, of observing
Sephardic custom. I cannot blindly make that choice. It must
be an informed choice, an educated decision. It must be choice
through knowledge.
Reform Judaism was born of the Enlightenment in eighteenth century
Europe. The Enlightenment was a movement with many aspects.
It resulted in the creation of a middle class that had previously
not existed; the spread of French language, literature and philosophy
throughout Europe; the beginning of the Industrial Revolution;
and the freedom to think and choose one’s own form of
government, which led to both the French and American revolutions.
It also resulted in the Western Jew leaving the ghetto to join
the larger society. The question before each Jew who chose to
step outside the ghetto was: Could one continue to be a Jew
and still enjoy the benefits of modern society?[2]
Most people believe that the first movement in Judaism, the
original Judaism, was Orthodoxy. Most people would be mistaken.
Prior to the Enlightenment, prior to the modern era, Judaism
existed in isolated communities. Scholars and rabbis versed
in Torah and rabbinic law guided their communities along similar
lines, yet separate from other Jewish communities from the destruction
of the Temple in the year 70 until the Enlightenment.
And then things changed. A group of German Jews had a notion
of changing Judaism to fit the modern times, they sought to
reform Judaism. The response to the changes they made eventually
became Orthodox Judaism. “Orthodoxy and Reform are fraternal
twins,” writes Martin Cohen, “to help Judaism cope
with the dissolution of the organic Jewish community in the
modern world.” Both rebelled against the Judaism that
predated them. Orthodoxy said, “No more change,” while Reform insisted upon ongoing change.[3]
The early Reformers made two serious errors in the early stages
of our movement. The first was that they made it appear as though
nonobservance of the commandments was one of the requirements
of Reform Judaism. In the 1885 Pittsburgh Platform, the founders
of our movement wrote, “We accept as binding only [the]
moral laws and maintain only such ceremonies as elevate and
sanctify our lives, but reject all such as are not adapted to
the views and habits of modern civilization.” [4] Taking this stand, the early Reformers were no less rigid than
those who required strict observance of all of the commandments.
For Reform Judaism to be liberal, it must be up to the individual
to decide what is binding. And this was where the early Reformers
made their second mistake. By focusing only on the moral laws,
the early Reformers failed to teach the other half of tradition
from which we may make an informed choice. “We no longer
believe, [though,] that the European Jew becomes a better European
or the American Jew a better American by shedding his Jewish
particularism.”[5]
Bible and Talmud, midrash and philosophy, Kabbalah
and the Jewish legal codes are the possession of all Jews and
we are all commanded to engage in the study of Torah. As Jakob
Petuchowski writes, “A true Reform Judaism, therefore,
and one worthy of its name, would have to cultivate the study
of the totality of our tradition, applying it to a set of criteria
to guide the modern Jew in making his selections from it.”
[6]
So, if everything is up for grabs, if we truly believe as Reform
Jews in choice through knowledge, how do we know what God has
commanded us? What is the value of Jewish law if any of it could
end up on the cutting room floor?
It is said that we speak to God through prayer and God speaks
to us through study. “If we want our Reform religious
culture to be an authentically Jewish one, we must become students
of the halakhah, [Jewish law,] the literature that our people
have produced in their ongoing effort to understand God’s
will for their lives.”[7]
It is possible that study may lead to nonobservance,
but it would be nonobservance based upon careful evaluation,
not ignorance.
Our tradition teaches us that there are 613 commandments. In
the Talmud, Rabbi Simlai gives us this number,[8]
but it isn’t until a half a millennium
later that Maimonides gives us a definitive list of those mitzvot.
Until then, a variety of comprehensive lists existed. No one
observes all of the commandments. No one can observe all of
the commandments. There are numerous commandments that are related
to the Temple in Jerusalem that no longer stands or to the sacrificial
system we no longer observe. Some are just for the priests and
some are just for Jewish kings. “In other words, the 613
commandments—whatever they might be, and whatever enumeration
of them we might choose to follow—were never meant to
be observed by every Jew.”[9]
We often hear the claim that the Orthodox follow all of the
commandments, while Reform Jews follow none. It is impossible
for any Jew to follow all of the commandments. It is equally
impossible for any Jew to reject them as a whole. If one loves
his neighbor, he is observing a commandment. If he refrains
from murder and theft, he is observing two more. If he pays
his employees on time, returns lost items to their owners, honors
his parents, three more. By leading an ethical and moral life,
we will fulfill a great number of the commandments. Nonetheless,
the Reform Jew maintains far fewer ritual and ceremonial observances
than most Orthodox Jews.[10]
Unfortunately, many Reform Jews “regard Judaism as an
elastically interpretable civil religion which permits just
about anything short of the acceptance of Jesus as the Messiah.”[11] But there are bounds on the choices we can make. Our sacred
tradition has always employed change, reform, in Jewish law
as long as that change ensures that the values and ideals of
Judaism’s revelation continue. Jewish law has always been
supple, pliant, flexible. It allows us to apply Torah-values
and Torah-perspectives to the changing demands of modern life.[12]
Dynamic change in Judaism is not only permissible, but demanded.
In fact, change has always been a part of Jewish religious history.
As Abraham Kohn writes, “If the institutions of Judaism
are anything, they are not unchangeable, for they always kept
pace with the civilization and the civil and social circumstances
of the Jews.” Consider our worship. In Torah, we see a
sacrificial system. By the time we get to the Psalms, King David
has employed poetry and music. And it isn’t until King
Solomon that there is even a fixed place, the Temple, for ritual
observance. Judaism has always been reform.
But we must truly understand the commandments to know which
ones we will follow, omit, or change. “Regular and intelligent
observance of tradition and rite enriches the spiritual life
of adults and children alike.” Our movement has adhered
to the moral and ethical message of the prophets, but we need
to embrace custom and ritual alongside the work of social action.[13]
“The purpose of mitzvot is to dedicate
a moment and an act to God, thereby transfiguring life. Any
mitzvah, then, which has the power regularly or occasionally,
thus to become a window on the divine, a meeting place with
God, ought to be observed by the Jew who believes in … God.”[14]
We can only understand what God wants of us when we understand
the relationship we have with God. The Covenant we have with
God is a human relationship. There is give and take on both
ends. We fulfill our end with actions that are appropriate for
our relationship with God and it is God who is the measure by
which we determine that appropriateness. It is also important
to remember, as we learn about mitzvot and make determinations
about our observance, that the Covenantal relationship we have
is both historic and communal. Our decisions cannot be strictly
personal and fleeting; tradition has to weigh in as well.[15]
One who wants to experience Israel’s Covenant with God
will find more success in trying to live by the Covenant than
in just thinking about it. Begin anywhere, one mitzvah at a
time. Recite motzi before you eat or birkat ha-mazon after.
Light the Sabbath candles in your home. Observe the yarzheit
of a loved one. Say the Shehecheyanu at the first fallen leaves
or the first snowflake. “When the inner embarrassment
of doing a mitzvah as a mitzvah has been overcome, we can see
what the reality of the covenanted existence might be and do
one more.” [16]
So, how do we begin the process of determining which mitzvot
we will try? Jakob Petuchowski outlines four criteria for modern
Jewish observance. First: Determine the main message of Jewish
tradition for the mitzvah you are contemplating. Second: Figure
out how to make the traditional teaching regarding the mitzvah
relevant in your own life and in the current situation in which
you find yourself. Third: Listen to the voice of your own conscience
on the matter. And fourth: Acknowledge your responsibility regarding
the communal Covenant with God.
First: Determine the main message of tradition for the mitzvah
you are contemplating. This level requires only investigation.
There is no commitment yet. Consider the prohibition against
work on the Sabbath. We might think it is a prohibition against
heavy labor and that tasks that don’t require a great
deal of effort would no longer be prohibited. So what if we
go into the office and get a few things done? It won’t
be labor intensive. But this isn’t the essence of the
commandment prohibiting work on the Sabbath. Instead, it is
intended to make us aware that all the creating we do over the
course of the week pales in comparison to God’s work of
Creation. Shabbat is about more than just relaxation and physical
recuperation. It’s about acknowledging God’s presence
in the world. Not stopping our ordinary activities to be aware
of God’s presence doesn’t fulfill the main message
of the tradition for not working on the Sabbath.
Second: Figure out how to make the traditional teaching regarding
the mitzvah relevant in your own life and in the current situation
in which you find yourself. This requires conscious application
of Reform principle. Returning to the idea of Shabbat, Orthodox
tradition prohibits driving a car on the Sabbath. But as a Reform
Jew, in the modern context, does this make sense? Ask yourself:
How can I best observe Shabbat, being aware of the distance
between where I live and Temple. Does the use of my car help
me to make Shabbat meaningful? Yes! By driving to Temple, I
can be part of a larger community, rejoicing in the Sabbath,
and acknowledging God’s presence in Creation.
Third: Listen to the voice of your own conscience on the matter.
Leo Baeck said that the Reform Jew is characterized by the piety
of the individual, not the piety of the environment. As individuals,
we are free to participate in or refrain from any particular
observance. It’s not enough to know why others observe
a commandment, each of us must know why we, individually, want
to observe or refrain. Ask yourself: why is making Shabbat a
day distinguishable from the rest of the days of the week meaningful
to me, personally?
Finally: Acknowledge your responsibility regarding the communal
Covenant with God. “Everything that contributes to the
survival and to the unity of the covenant community of Israel
must be regarded as a religious commandment.” This means
that the Reform Jew must observe some mitzvot that if his faith
were only about himself, he wouldn’t observe, but because
he is a member of a community, his observance is affected. Shabbat
is Shabbat because it is the same for all Jews. We cannot choose
to observe the Sabbath on another day of the week because it
is more convenient. That would place us outside of the community
of Israel and outside of the bounds of our covenant with God.
These four criteria, considering the purpose of the commandment,
making the mitzvah relevant, listening to one’s conscience
on the matter, and being aware of our place in a larger community,
are the yardstick that the modern Jew must apply to his inherited
tradition. But our religious faith and life require more than
this measure of tradition. Intense Jewish education at all ages
makes these criteria meaningful. And only an application of
the criteria can make tradition itself come alive.[17]
I cannot tell you whether or not I will eat sushi during the
week of Passover this year, but I can pledge to study before
Passover arrives so that I can make an informed choice about
my religious practice this year. One of the goals of Chabad
is to get Jews to observe one more commandment. Just one more.
The goal of the Reform rabbi is no different. Learn about one
more commandment this year. Try to take on one more mitzvah
or understand one that you’re already observing or avoiding.
Make this year the year that you live up to the responsibility
of being a Reform Jew and engaging in study so that you can
make informed choices about your religious practice.
I’d like to conclude with a passage written by Arnold
Jacob Wolf:
“My problem is that I cannot appropriate for myself all
that God means, that I cannot comprehend it, that I sometimes
cannot stand it, that I often cannot fulfill it.
“I try to walk the road of Judaism. Embedded in that road
there are many jewels. One is marked ‘Sabbath’ and
one ‘Civil Rights’ and one ‘Kashruth’
and one ‘Honor Your Parents’ and one ‘Study
of Torah’ and one ‘You Shall Be Holy.’ There
are at least 613 of them and they are of different sizes and
shapes and weights. Some are light and easy for me to pick up
and I pick them up. Some are too deeply embedded for me, so
far at least, though I get a little stronger by trying to extricate
the jewels as I walk the street. Some, perhaps, I shall never
be able to pick up. I believe that God expects me to keep on
walking Judaism Street and to carry away whatever I can of its
commandments. I do not believe that He expects me to lift what
I cannot, nor may I condemn my fellow Jew who may not be able
to pick up even as much as I can.
“The various commandments look somewhat different to me.
Some seem larger, some smaller, some important, some trivial.
But there is no commandment that may not have its day, and no
certainty that may not sometimes fall into doubt. I must not
decide in advance what properly belongs on Judaism Street. Nor
may I walk down the broad parkway only, but must follow the
road even when it narrows and is no longer very easy to walk.
”“Neither Orthodox nor liberal, I try to be a Jew.[18]
L’Shanah Tovah Tikateivu – May you be inscribed
for blessing in the Book of Life.
[1]Title
inspired by Arnold Jacob Wolf’s article in The Condition
of Jewish Belief, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1966,
pp. 267-74. (back to the sermon)
[2]W. Gunther Plaut, The
Rise of Reform New York: World Union for Progressive Judaism,
Ltd., 1963, p. xiv. (back to the sermon)
[3]Martin A. Cohen, When
Is Reform Judaism? Brooklyn, NY: Temple Beth Emeth, 1987,
p. 14. (back to the sermon)
[4]Central Conference of
American Rabbis, “The Pittsburgh Platform” 1885. (back
to the sermon)
[5]Jakob J. Petuchowski, “Some Criteria for Modern Jewish Observance,” Contemporary
Jewish Theology: A Reader, ed., Elliot N. Dorff and Louis
E. Newman, New York: Oxford University Press, 1999, p. 294.(back
to the sermon)
[6]Ibid, p. 295. (back
to the sermon)
[7]Mark Washofsky, “Solomon
B. Freehof and Reform Halakhah,” The Chronicle, Hebrew Union
College-Jewish Institute of Religion, 2007 Issue 69, p. 10. (back
to the sermon)
[8]Babylonian Talmud, Tractate
Makkot 23b. (back to the sermon)
[9]Petuchowski, p. 292.
(back to the sermon)
[10]Ibid, pp. 292-3. (back
to the sermon)
[11]Cohen, p. 10. (back
to the sermon)
[12]Ibid, pp. 12, 18. (back
to the sermon)
[13]Bernard J. Bamberger, “Bernard J. Bamberger,” The Condition of Jewish
Belief, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1966, p. 21. (back
to the sermon)
[14]Herman E. Schaalman, “Herman E. Schaalman,” The Condition of Jewish
Belief, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1966, p. 203. (back
to the sermon)
[15]Eugene B. Borowitz, “Eugene B. Borowitz,” The Condition of Jewish
Belief, New York: The Macmillan Company, 1966, p. 37. (back
to the sermon)
[16]Ibid, p. 38 (back
to the sermon)
[17]Petuchowski, pp. 295-8.
(back to the sermon)
[18]Arnold J. Wolf, “Arnold
J. Wolf,” The Condition of Jewish Belief, New York: The
Macmillan Company, 1966, pp. 268-9. (back to the
sermon)
