A Reform Jew Speaks

Lots of blogs concentrate on Judaism. I haven’t written much about it personally, but being Jewish certainly plays a large role in my life. I’m currently dating a Jewish girl, and I try to attend services once or twice a month along with the usual observances of Passover and the high holidays.

Few issues raise the blood temperature of Jews more than that of the different denominations that have developed. It’s not easy to sort out who is a Jew, and to reconcile traditional Judaism with modern secular life. It’s something Jews have struggled with throughout their existence, and something with which they will probably always struggle.

It’s not necessarily my goal to tackle this reconciliation in my blog today. Rather, I’d like to talk about my own views on what sort of Jew I am. What I see are the problems and contradictions in my own practice, and perhaps hear what others have to say about this topic.

One of the first questions to tackle is definition. It’s relatively straightforward to define your denomination by the synagogue you attend. But, the synagogue-ian definition of denomination isn’t complete. One might attend a synagogue because it is the only one in the area, or because one likes a given Rabbi. It’s possible that the majority of the congregation practices differently than you do at home. It really makes the whole thing quite complicated. However, for the sake of this blog, I’ll define my own denomination this way.

I feel most comfortable in a Reform synagogue, as that is what I’ve grown up with. I like the communal feel to the service, and the warmth and human focus that surrounds the service, at least the one I grew up in. I’m not a big fan of the organ, but I think that has more to do with my dislike of organ music, than with any spiritual reasons. Instruments in service don’t bother me. Hearing Kol Nidre played on a violin or on a cello is an incredibly spiritual experience.

The egalitarianism of the service is also important to me. Once again, I’ve grown up with it, and have no problems with men and women sitting together, or even a woman Rabbi or Cantor. Those are elements of both reform and Reconstructionist Judaism that appeal to me.

Reform Judaism, by its nature, is difficult. It’s based on principles of informed choice. One is supposed to study all of the ancient and modern texts, and then make personal decisions regarding your life. This principle is inherently contradictory, and almost impossible. Very few, including myself, spend a lot of time studying in this way. I went to religious school, and have an ok background in Jewish history and ethics, but hardly the level of depth needed to seriously make many of those decisions.

It also makes it difficult to define who is a Jew. Can someone who chooses to eat a ham and cheese sandwich on Yom Kippur claim to be a reform Jew? Well, by rules of lineage (maternally or paternally depending on denomination) they are either Jewish or they aren’t. But, by rules of behavior, are they considered Jewish? That’s a tough question. Where do we draw the line? Many would say people who eat pork, or make no attempt at keeping a kosher home aren’t Jewish. Others believe if you don’t keep Shabbat or attend synagogue weekly aren’t Jewish, at least not in practice. The line is blurry. Reform Judaism probably makes it blurrier.

Another difficulty with Reform Judaism is community. One of traditional Judaism’s greatest strength is its sense of community. Because everyone must walk to synagogue, they live close together. They go to the same kosher shops, eat in one or two kosher restaurants, and spend Shabbat with friends and family. Because they only associate with other Jews, intermarriage is less likely. Because everyone is keeping the same holidays and observing similar rules, there is less temptation to secularize.

It’s an amazing feeling to be a part of such a strong community. Some of my best memories in England were the Shabbat lunches and dinners spent with members of the orthodox synagogue. The long evenings or afternoons of eating and talking were really special. There was no temptation to shop, or turn on the TV; it was just conversation and amazing food. Usually there was too much. I wouldn’t walk home, I’d roll.

That being said, I was always ready to return to my secular world afterwards. I wanted to go out with my friends. I wanted to go to the dinners made by my European friends, I wanted to go out drinking on a Friday night, and occasionally, I even wanted to eat seafood.

So where does this leave me? I consider myself Jewish first and reform Jew second. I’ve been to many different services, and can get something out of them. I know that deep down, I am Jewish, and want it to be a center of my life. But I’m not ready to adopt a frum lifestyle. It’s just not who I am at this point in time. But, why can’t both be there.

Why can’t the reform community make Shabbat meals a priority? Even if they are prepared that night, turning the TV off, or not going out on a given Friday night to spend time with family and friends should be a priority for any Jew. Isn’t spending time at home with the family part of the social justice that Reform holds to high esteem? It can begin at home at a table “debating” an issue, rather than falling asleep at the TV. Reform Judaism allows it; it’s just a matter of us to take advantage of that freedom.

Reform services are adopting more Hebrew and tradition to their services. It seems to be the direction of the moment, and I generally think this is a good thing. But as it does this, some of the questions I’ve raised will come to a head, particularly as those of more traditional Reform begin to reject the changes. If these are addressed, the movement, and consequently, the entire religion can only grow stronger.