Getting Pluralism Back on Track

by Rabbi Darren Kleinberg

Twenty years ago, when Rabbi Irving "Yitz" Greenberg wrote his influential essays "Will there be one Jewish People by the year 2000?" and "Toward a principled pluralism" (Perspectives, 1986), he wrote with a sense of fear - fear that the Jewish community would not be able to overcome the impending split between the different denominational groups within the Jewish community.

In many ways, his worst fears have been borne out. The denominations that categorize much of Jewish life in America ultimately have seen it fit to make policy decisions independent of one another and without primary concern for klal Yisrael, the Jewish community as a whole.

For example, each of the three major movements has recently made major policy decisions with regard to the issue of conversion. Both the Reform and Conservative movements, in the past year, have put the issue of conversion of non-Jewish spouses at the center of their platform during recent national conventions. And the Orthodox community has convened national gatherings to discuss standards, as well as confronting a recent controversy over the Israeli Rabbinate's curtailing its acceptance of Orthodox conversion from North America.

With so much attention being given to these divisive issues, the movements have wasted an opportunity to work together to try to find some way to overcome differences.

There are many areas in which the members of the larger Jewish community could and should work together in the interests of the greater good. To be successful in creating a community that can function in a manner that is a model for what tikkun olam, "repairing world," might look like, it's time to revisit the concept of pluralism.

For Jews from different segments of the community to gain a deeper understanding and therefore a deeper respect for one another, they must engage in a process of exposure to one another's experience as Jews. That includes crossing the thresholds of other denominations' houses of worship, not only for a celebration but also to pray together.

Some experiences will be jarring and others inspiring. But each experience will make the participant more fully a member of the Jewish community and the Jewish people.

There are also larger communal issues.

In the late 1970s and early 1980s in Denver there was a now infamous, cross-denominational beit din, rabbinic court, convened in relative secrecy to oversee conversions.

Such groups should be revived. It's important to find more and varied ways to work together, not just as individuals, but also as movements.

The key to the long-term success of such groups is, unlike the experience in Denver, to convene them openly so that the rabbinic representatives of each movement can become role models for the entire community.

Ultimately, we must all learn to affirm the shared and equal value of each of the different groups in Jewish life publicly and proudly.

To quote Reuven Kimelman from 20 years ago:

"The symphony of Jewish religious life results when each denomination plays well its own instrument. To create the orchestra, each denomination has to realize that the quality of the richness of the music together will exceed anything they can produce separately. Harmony results from differences coordinated, not suppressed. While we may play different instruments, we must be committed to the goals of the orchestra to produce a symphony. As soon as one part starts to do his own thing or to believe that his music will be superior by withdrawing from the whole, everybody loses."

Less is More - Parashat Va'etchanan, Deuteronomy 3:23-7:11

by Rabbi Darren Kleinberg

In this week's parsha, Va'etchanan, we find the second telling of the giving of the aseret hadevarim - "the Ten Commandments." Immediately before the lengthy preamble to the restatement of the Decalogue there are two interesting and seemingly out-of-place verses.

The Torah states, "Do not add to something I (God) have commanded you and do not diminish from it ... Your eyes have seen what I did at Ba'al Peor, for every man who followed after Ba'al Peor was destroyed by God from your midst" (Deut. 4:2,3).

How do these two verses connect to the core of this week's parsha, the Ten Commandments?Franz Rosenzweig, the great Jewish philosopher, once wrote, "All that God ever revealed in revelation is - revelation."

When we move from the moment of "revelation" to the by-product of that experience, we have already separated from the truth of that moment. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel has already taught us that "theology" is simply a surface attempt to transmit the power of a deeper experience - "depth theology."

However, without an attempt to represent the meaning of the original experience, we would never have religion as a channel to guide us toward the deeper truth. Therefore, Judaism focuses on this-worldly experiences as a means of achieving transcendence - or, for our purposes, moments of revelation.

For example, we say a blessing over an apple - "borei p'ri ha'eitz" - only when the apple is before us and we are about to eat it. Why? Because it is impossible to capture in a moment what it means for God to have been the prime force in the creation of all vegetation and then appropriately acknowledge that in words. But it is possible, when the product of that creative process is before us, to say, "I appreciate that this apple is a product of something greater." And through that moment of appreciation maybe we can be drawn closer.

And so, when the Torah records the story of the events at Mount Sinai - the most powerful moment of revelation in the Torah - it very subtly, but very powerfully, teaches this lesson also.

First, as is known, the Torah cites differing accounts of what was "said" at Mount Sinai in the content of the Ten Commandments. Most famously, there is the different term that introduces the commandment to guard/remember the Sabbath - zachor/shamor - but the differences between the two accounts are more numerous than just this example. This should teach us that no two accounts of revelation will be the same - the experience will always be greater than any one rendering.

Second, when the parsha begins with the law mentioned above, the Torah is telling us not to try to say more about the moment of revelation than we are able. And, at the same time, not to try to diminish it because we are limited in our ability to fully transmit the experience of that moment in words.

And then, immediately following this, God tells the Jews to remember Ba'al Peor - an idolatrous moment in Israelite history, the opposite of a moment of revelation.

Idolatry, in the Torah, can be said to represent the attempt to "know" - to be certain, to have clarity, while faith, by definition means, "I do not know for sure, but I am committed nonetheless."

Ultimately, as Rosenzweig has taught us, "All that God revealed at revelation is - revelation."

This article is written in memory of Jakob J. Petuchowski.