By Jeremy Appel
(AJNews) – Earlier this year, the Jewish Publication Society released Contemporary Humanistic Judaism:
Beliefs, Values, Practices, a collection of writings about the titular non-theistic branch of Judaism that is rooted in devotion to Jewish history and culture, rather than a supernatural being.
Alberta Jewish News sat down with its editors, Rabbi Jodi Kornfeld (JK) and Rabbi Adam Chalon (AC), who preside over separate humanistic congregations in the Chicago suburb of Deerfield, to discuss the beliefs and practices, and tensions between the particular and universal, at the heart of Humanistic Judaism.
This interview has been shortened for length and edited for clarity.
To start with an obvious question, what is Humanistic Judaism?
JK: We consider ourselves to be the fifth denominational branch of Judaism. It is human centered, and it combines the philosophy of humanism, which is a belief in the power and authority of human beings over their own lives, with a very broad definition of Judaism being the collective experience of the Jewish people. That experience is not limited to religion. It’s cultural – so Jewish music, Jewish food, all those things that go into our Jewish identity. It really is the merger of those two things.
AC: Our humanism is coming from understanding how the world works, but also as our understanding of the Jewish experience. If you look back at Jewish history, it wasn’t the kindness of the divine protector that made us survive, it was the Jewish people who fought for survival, or moved and were able to adapt to new circumstances, who changed what they did Jewishly over time, to be more appropriate to the settings where they were living. That’s one more demonstration that we’re on our own, but we’re not on our own practically, because we have each other, we have community and we can draw on those strengths.
We learned from the outside world and it became practice, but we experienced it because it was a culture that connected with people around us. And most importantly, culture is made by people, and if people made it once upon a time, then people can change it today. We’re not the only ones. The reform movement started with editing the prayer book because it didn’t reflect what they believe, and Jewish feminists today add prayers and blessings to reflect a more imminent theology, or one that’s open to female divine language that the classical texts don’t include. So we’re part of this experience of Jews taking what they’ve inherited and adapting it into something new.
Humanistic Judaism recognizes these very basic human needs of community, of a spiritual dimension to understand that we are part of something larger. It just is confined to the natural world, and so when we want to do liturgy or we want to do life cycle events and ceremonies and services, we use non-theistic language, because we are not seeking intervention.
In the introduction to the book, you outline how Humanistic Judaism grew out of the Reform movement, with Rabbi Sherwin Wine establishing the first Humanistic shul in Detroit in the 1960s after leaving a Reform congregation. What are the similarities and differences between Reform and Humanistic Judaism, as well as the Reconstructionist movement which also came out of Reform?
AC: All three of those movements that you mentioned have some basic agreement on the idea that Judaism changes over time, and that people today have the right and responsibility to adapt their Jewish practice to fit their values.
If you’re balancing consistency with your values and consistency with tradition, when you take the Torah scroll out, do you say, “This is the Torah, which Moses placed before the Children of Israel, from the mouth of God, and by the hand of Moses,” if you don’t believe Moses wrote it? Do you say the old words because they’re traditional, or do you write new words that praises the people of Israel who created the Torah over many centuries?
That’s where the Reform movement and Reconstructionist and humanistic Judaism diverge on the Torah, where the Reform movement will say those old words, even though their rabbis, their Sunday school program, and their adult learning programs don’t believe that Moses wrote this book. They say the old words for the continuity part.
Where the Reconstructionist is more continuity than integrity from our perspective is when it comes to God. Because the the Reconstructionist movement, going back to Mordecai Kaplan in the 1930s, didn’t really believe in a personal God who intervenes in the world, who writes the Torah, who cares what you eat or what you wear or who you marry, although they preserve that atta, that you, that Melech, that King language in their scripture for the sake of continuity, even if they didn’t mean it literally.
Our approach is we want to be as clear as possible with what we believe. We can use poetic language. But let’s say what we believe and be able to clearly believe what we say, and that means making more changes. We may lose on the continuity side, but we gain on living out our values clearly.
But when it comes to the equality and inclusion of LGBT Jews, those kinds of values questions, we’re in the same place as the Reform and Reconstructionist movements. The liturgy is really where you’ll see the lines drawn most.
JC: I would say that in what can be a clash between constituency and continuity, we would jettison the continuity part in favour of consistency, so that we’re being very clear. We don’t try to salvage language. We don’t use Hebrew that says one thing because it’s Hebrew and that’s the way it’s always been done.
If it doesn’t make sense with the belief system and the philosophy that we espouse, we let it go or we find a substitute.
Rabbi Wine argued that there are no uniquely Jewish values, just humanistic values that people who are Jewish hold. In one of Rabbi Chalom’s contributions to the book, “Are There Jewish Values,” you appear to diverge from that perspective.
AC: Well, I agree and disagree. That’s classic rabbinic style. I agree with him that values are not necessarily uniquely Jewish. We didn’t invent loving your neighbor, we didn’t invent the importance of education. There’s lots of other cultures all over the globe that emphasize those kinds of things without having the Torah or the Talmud. Even the 10 Commandments — to not commit murder, to not commit adultery — you find those in lots of other cultures, because they’re a reflection of the human experience.
Where I disagree with Rabbi Wine is that I do think that there are certain values that are conventionally reflected in Jewish life, like education and community support. They don’t have to be uniquely Jewish to still count as being Jewish. I used the example in the article that my house has an attached garage and a front door with a patio. Is that unique to my house? No, but does it describe my house? Yes.
Saying that Jewish culture has valued learning is accurate. It doesn’t mean that no other culture did or that we did it better than everybody else. However, we also have to be subtle about this, because Jewish culture did not value learning for everyone. Historically, it valued it for men and not for women. Modern Jewish culture values it for everyone. In fact, the majority of non-Orthodox rabbis that are coming out of rabbinic seminaries are women. So that’s where we can have a subtle understanding of the set of Jewish values, some of which I may disagree with, and the set of my values, and then the overlap, like a Venn diagram, is going to be my Jewish values.
If we’re going to celebrate some things and reject other things, we should be aware of all of it and be learned, but also be honest.
Rabbi Kornfeld, in your essay, “What Is Jewish Art?” you conclude that art made by Jewish people is Jewish art, but art made by non-Jews depicted Jewish themes is not. Why is this distinction important?
JK: Admittedly, it’s a little bit arbitrary, because it can’t be so open-ended that everything is in it, or else the definition Jewish art would have no meaning. I have found it useful to echo the sculptor Jacques Lipchitz, who said that if it’s made by a Jew, it’s Jewish art, because it’s reflective of the Jewish experience. That goes back to that idea of Judaism being defined as the collective historic experience of the Jews, however that experience is expressed.
A case would be made that Rembrandt’s “Portrait of an Old Jew” is Jewish art. But not being a Jew, is Rembrandt bringing the same sensitivities? Is he bringing the same way of looking at things that a Jewish artist would?
The other thing that comes out of this notion of Jewish art being defined in the way that I suggest, is that it gives a complete meaning to an understanding of the second commandment, which had always historically been understood when it says ‘no graven images’ to mean there couldn’t be such a thing as Jewish art, because you couldn’t do representational art. You couldn’t do things that might look like an image in any way, shape or form, when in fact, the second commandment is about idolatry. You could create images, you just simply couldn’t worship them, and so once we make that corrective on the second commandment, then I think a lot of what flows can qualify as Jewish art.
Jeremy Appel is a Local Journalism Initiative Reporter.
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