This is the season for freeing ourselves from personal enslavements that prevent us from moving forward. The question is: what role does “tradition” play in the development of our religious lives as Reform Jews? Is tradition a millstone around our necks or is it a motivation for deepening our commitments? Does tradition free us or enslave us? For Classical Reformers, it is viewed as the former. For many Reform Jews today, it is the latter. Perhaps, the answer depends on the nuance we project in our vision of Reform Judaism. Such an understanding is reflected in the statements made by Rabbi Gais and myself. We are substantially in agreement. Still, we both share many of the same concerns about the present state of Reform Judaism. While recognizing the problems of traditional practice, Rabbi Gais sees the role of tradition as an embellishment of our religious stance. I welcome tradition but I am cautious that it may be used as a diversion form our core values and from inculcating strong commitment from our constituency.

Classical Reformers see “tradition” as a conflict between individual religious independence and freedom and the consensus of the Reform Jewish community, as the enhancement of superstition over reason, as the emphasis of the archaic Torah text and subsequent muting of the progressive ethical vision of the Prophets as well as later Jewish thinkers, as the separation of Jews from the larger society, as the inclination to support Divine Revelation instead of the inspiration of human religious genius and creativity, as the focus of ethnicity over religiosity, as the useless hope of gaining the approval and acknowledgement of religious Jews from other streams of Judaism, as the desire to identify Reform Jews with a standard of religious practice – in all, an effort to reclaim and reinforce the past.

Those contemporary Reform Jews embracing the effort to move toward “tradition” appreciate the concerns of the Classical Reformers but believe that reason needs to be balanced by emotion as well as what may be called the “spiritual,” that God may be seen differently by individuals but should be perceived as integral to our reality, that we can discover modern insights in the ancient Torah text, that rituals formerly identified as “outmoded” may be reinterpreted so as to be both old and new, that the Prophets are still primary as reflected in the work of the Religious Action Center and the overall program of the Union of Reform Judaism (e.g. the issues of inclusiveness, equality, justice, truth, compassion - human values over the material), that other streams of Jews do feel more connected to Reform Jews now, that contemporary Jews do need expressions and symbols of specific identity to differentiate form the larger culture, and that our rabbis and congregational leaders today have been zealous in asserting their autonomy in deciding the religious practices of their individual congregations – all in all, a movement forward.

The fundamental problem Rabbi Gais and I seem to share is whether Reform Jews are serious enough as modern Jews to meet the challenges we face and the confidence to transmit our vision to others. Clearly, we Reform Jews are not seen as deeply committed by the culture. Why has the media expropriated the term “religious” to mean fundamentalists? How different are we from other liberal religious denominations? Why are so many Reform Jews indifferent to creating and maintaining serious Jewish involvement and identity? Why do so many of our members appear apathetic? How many of our members nationally actually feel inclined to adopt traditional Jewish practices? And even where there is interest, how successful have we been in inculcating them in the home as compared to congregational worship? How many of them are either intimidated or threatened by such practices? How many of our people are seeking something “more” and yet unable to find that “more” within our communities? Do we feel a genuine connection to the State of Israel or is this really the concern of a few avid Reform Zionists? Are the social policies we endorse always prompted by Jewish resources and religious understandings or merely a reflection of the political value of coalition groupings? The bottom line is whether the most educated group in America is intellectually alive and knowledgeable with respect to Reform Judaism and impacting Jewish life in a dynamic and progressive way?

In short, are we asking the right questions? Are we doing the right things? Are we taking courageous paths into fresh religious vistas? Does the advocating of traditional religious practices divert our willingness to tackle such questions or does such a call mute an inclination in that direction? The answer is basic to all that we believe and all that we do. The answer lies within each of us individually and within us as a community – especially at Pesach. Are we free or are we encumbered? How shall we respond? And if not now, when?

Looking over my remarks and those of my colleague, Rabbi Berlin, as well as the questions sent to both of us and some private discussions too, the crucial word for all of us seems to be “understand.” As Rabbi Berlin says in his answer last week to Beth Memolo, “Understanding or at least the endeavor to understand is an important quality of being a Reform Jew.”  I think this is the bottom line for both of us. Ceremony without substance, affect over honesty, buzzwords and trendiness instead of authentic self-scrutiny are all ways in which tradition or anything else, can be manipulated to seem genuine.

Both Rabbi Berlin and I have quoted the Israelites’ heartfelt affirmation at Sinai, “Na-aseh v’nishma – we will do and [then] we will understand.” Both of us fear the danger of merely doing, i.e. assuming the trappings of traditional practice just because it’s the popular thing to do at the moment without following up on doing by striving to understand. Whence comes our understanding? I maintain that first and foremost it comes from learning. The tradition of study is the most important tradition any Jew should be concerned with. From study all else comes. I’ve said this in many ways over the past few weeks and want to add in my concluding remarks one new thing; the crucial importance of studying Biblical Hebrew. Part of the return to tradition is the increased use of Hebrew in the liturgy; a practice I encourage. I am also a big fan of transliteration, especially embarrassment-free transliteration that’s on the same page as the Hebrew text. But saying Hebrew, or decoding it enough to read from the Torah, is not the same as understanding it.
At the NY Kollel, I’ve been deeply moved over the years by the hunger our adult students have to understand for themselves what our sacred texts mean when not obscured by the agenda of all translations. There comes a wonderful, liberating moment when a part of the liturgy or a Biblical verse suddenly make sense. These revelations are intimate and unique; gifts that happen only after the student has paid her dues and done the hard work that prepared her for this moment. Judaism isn’t easy. Being Jewish isn’t easy. We kid ourselves and deprive ourselves of our great heritage if we think it so.

I’m going to end by posing you a challenge.  As people of the Book, it is our privilege and duty to seriously study the Torah, word by word, even letter by letter. Here are three different translations of the first two verses of Beresheit (Genesis), a text I’ve chosen because most of us think we know what it says. But the differences among the three should alert us to the difficulty of really understanding what the verses mean.  Study them carefully, compare them word for word, think about what you like and dislike about the m. Concealed inside the words of each translation are crucial assumptions about the nature of God and the origins of the universe that take us to the very heart of all religious belief. Our tradition demands that we seek these answers. For the non-Hebrew reader, this is a pretty good approximation of the joys of close study of the text. The joy of studying Jewishly comes in studying in chevruta, with a study partner. But even if you’re studying by yourself, you’re never really alone. There are always commentators, ancient, medieval, and modern to argue with and learn from, and, the Divine Presence as well (M. Avot 3.3). I look forward to learning with you (rgais@huc.edu).

Beresheit 1:1-2

1. In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. (King James Version, England, 1611)

2. When God began to create heaven and earth-the earth being unformed and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep and wind from God sweeping over the water. (New Jewish Publication Society, Philadelphia, 1917)

3. At the beginning of God’s creating of the heavens and the earth, when the earth was wild and waste, darkness over the face of Ocean, rushing spirit of God hovering over the face of the waters -  (Everett Fox, New York, 1983)