It
has been six years. Six years since our
congregation was faced with a critical decision: merge with another
congregation in order to become part of a larger institution with a bigger
staff and a grander building, or re-envision our focus and recommit to being a
small and intimate congregation where, to quote a pop-relic, “everybody knows your name.” Meetings were held, and the decision was clear. There was an outpouring of passion for Temple
Emanuel and a desire to remain independent in order to serve the needs of Jews
living in Northern Baltimore and Carroll Counties and to preserve the
congregation’s legacy of social action, modern and uplifting worship, and
intellectual integrity. It was a bold
decision especially when viewed in hindsight considering the economic crash
that soon followed and impacted so many of our families.
Six
years have passed. Each year since that
decision, I have taken the opportunity at the High Holidays to speak about the
importance of re-engaging with the synagogue – our synagogue. I have spoken about our need, as Reform Jews,
to be dedicated to the universal values of social justice that impact far
beyond our own personal walls. I have
addressed the need to support the State of Israel even when her internal
politics challenge us. I have stressed
the necessity of remaining committed to personal autonomy in matters of ritual
observance. I have emphasized the need
for our synagogue to be a place of personal, face-to-face and direct human connection
all the more so in this digital, social media age. Most recently, a year ago today, I invited
you to engage by telling me what it is that you want from
your synagogue -- how we could meet your needs and engage you better.
Perhaps
I have been less than clear. Let me try
to be more so this year. All of these issues become irrelevant without
the synagogue; and, the synagogue – this synagogue -- will not survive without
you. Based on the responses we received
from that survey distributed a year ago, those who come are generally quite pleased
with Temple Emanuel, its offerings, and its warm, engaging manner; and, yet our
congregation remains on the precipice of survival. Being “pleased” isn’t enough to ensure our
survival!
Similar to
congregations throughout our country, Jewish and Christian, , our congregation
is feeling the stark decrease in religious affiliation that is ubiquitous today. The religiously unaffiliated, the “nones,” as
they are commonly known, are on the rise.
As a 2012 Pew Forum investigation uncovered, it isn’t God that is losing
out: strikingly – and frankly, surprisingly, 90% of Americans report to believe
in God. Impressive. The institutions, such as our very synagogue, however,
and the people served by such institutions are losing out.
That same Pew
Forum investigation reveals, not surprisingly, that there is a decrease in
trust in religious organizations that is coupled with both a decreased interest
in attending worship services and a decrease in societal pressure to do so.
A longitudinal study conducted
by researchers at U of C, Berkeley and Duke University found that “one in five,
or 20% of, Americans claimed they had no religious preference, more than double
the number reported in 1990.” To place that in context, in 1972,
only 5% of those surveyed admitted to “no religious preference.”
I certainly speak to the national trends of decreased affiliation rates, but I can address
you. Is this congregation – is Temple Emanuel – an institution about which you
care? Perhaps I have been less than
clear. I can continue to stand on this
bema and argue that we must re-invigorate our synagogue with a re-affirmation
of Reform, of a Progressive Judaism, as Reform Judaism is labeled
internationally, that responds to modernity in a thoughtful and honest way,
that offers worship and study opportunities that inspire and challenge, that
provides a central place and opportunity for the pursuit of social justice and
social support; but, if religious apathy reigns – if you have no paramount
interest in supporting and preserving our community, than my arguments are in vain. They become nothing more than
an idealized vision for a world in which no one, save for but a committed few
are interested. I cannot ensure the survival of this synagogue
– or any synagogue -- on my own. Neither can our Temple President and his
Board. Only you can do that.
There
was a brief moment in modern history, immediately following World War II, when
Reform Judaism could boast as the largest and continually growing American
Jewish denomination. My generation was
raised in that era of religious institutional expansion that America,
generally, was experiencing. In the decades following WWII, American
religion was, in the words of the historian Michael Meyer, “liberated…from
apathy,” an apathy that was constant in the decades (not years, mind you, but)
decades leading up to that period. God
entered our American pledge of allegiance to our flag during this period
following WWII. This was the time during
which “In God we trust” became our motto in this country. “Belonging to a church and believing in God,”
Meyer reminds us, “[were] hallmarks of Americanism.” (Meyer, 353, ff).
That moment has
passed, my friends. Belonging to a religious
community is no longer a priority for most.
Godlessness isn’t the issue, recall: 90% of Americans are apparently
believers. Perhaps we are simply on the
other side of the wave of religious institutional devotion that was spurred by the
horror of war. Few are willing to look
at the reality of history and demographics for insight.
It is easier to
point fingers, and there are plenty of places to which we point: at the political arena, for instance, for
equating being religious with the political far-right , a movement that has
sadly succeeded at enmeshing religion and politics in a manner that makes most
of us squeamish and then uninterested at ‘being religiously affiliated.’ We could point to our overall comfort and
sense of American belonging – our complacency replacing a need for religious
affiliation and activity.
Others, particularly
day school advocates, point to a weak religious school system that forces
adults to make choices with regard to religious engagement based on a religious
education that ended during adolescence.
Still others blame religious apathy on the rise of intermarriage; though, those who do clearly haven’t met the number of non-Jewish spouses who make
Jewish life a priority and help to re-engage their entire family into the
synagogue. Talk about commitment.
Rabbi Lord
Jonathan Sacks, the soon to be former Chief Rabbi of the United Kingdom, blames
the break down of the traditional family structure for decreased synagogue
affiliation and goes as far as to state that encouraging women to be
“stay-at-home” mothers would go a long way to solving the problem of increased
secularism in his country.
Clearly, we should
stop pointing fingers! The blame game
just furthers our denial of the problem and leads to irrational deductions.
The most insightful, and at same time
challenging, explanation of religious apathy may come down to that theological
emphasis on individual autonomy that is central to being a modern Jew. Rabbi Dana Evan Kaplan, who explores the
challenges of modern Jewish affiliation has stated, that “As the Reform movement has increasingly
emphasized religious autonomy and the importance of choosing what each person
finds spiritually meaningful, it has become impossible to compel members,” to
compel you, to come to “and contribute to the vibrant well-being of [the]
congregation.” (Forward article, 2011)
Kaplan has a valid
point. Put simply, religious obligation is no longer
a motivating factor in affiliating with or getting involved in synagogue life. Guilt perhaps, but even that is fading among
my generation, and with regard to synagogue affiliation, is virtually non-existent
in the generations coming up after mine.
What
are we to do then? There is no other
choice than religious autonomy for Reform Judaism, or as I have stated on
previously, modern Judaism generally.
Our history underscores this.
Our modern and progressive theology demands this. Religious commitments whether to ideology or
to practice, even those commitments that are made within the context of
community, ultimately stem from the free will of each individual. One
may choose to accept the yoke of traditional Jewish law, of halacha, as a mandate, but in order to
be theologically valid, that decision must be viewed as just that, a conscious and
individual choice.
What
we seem to have forgotten in this quest for religious autonomy is that
religious free-will need not equate with a religious free-for-all expressed by
doing only what feels good and is comfortable.
Making a choice to opt-in to the demands our religious community, namely
the synagogue, makes on us, is not a denial or repression of our autonomy; it
is, davka, an expression of it.
Shai Held, co-founder, dean, and chair of
Jewish thought at Mechon Hadar, a modern Orthodox yeshiva in Israel, labels our
liberal conceptions of autonomy as “impoverished.” While I rarely agree with “Modern Orthodoxy,”
Held has a keen grasp on the essence of our dilemma. As he explains,
Which leaves me
with questions and challenges that only you can, and frankly, you must, address:
what is your commitment to the synagogue? Should we still strive to support and grow our
Jewish communal institutions, specifically the Reform synagogue, this synagogue,
Temple Emanuel? Is it important to you
to identify strongly and clearly as Jewish not only by filling your JNF boxes
and providing your child a place to mark Bar or Bat Mitzvah, but by committing yourself
to the continuity of Progressive – of Reform Jewish communal life, inclusive of
worship and Torah, not just those loving acts of kindness -- Mitzvah Day alone cannot sustain our
congregation!
In ten days, on
Yom Kippur, we will be reminded that there are consequences to our
choices. Uvacharta bachayim – choose life! We can choose a path of sustainability and
vitality by stepping up our involvement in and our commitment to the synagogue;
or, we can choose not. We can choose to remain ambivalent and apathetic. Which
will it be: survival of our beloved synagogue or joining the growing sea of the
unaffiliated.
No comments:
Post a Comment