Early Reform Judaism’s rejecting a good deal of traditional ritual was motivated by several factors. The first basis for rejecting ritual was theological. There was a strong sense by the classical Reformers that ritual practice undermined the primary objectives of Judaism, which were ethics. Additionally, ritual was seen as primitive, superstitious and incompatible with modern life. Reason was valued over ceremonies, intellect over practice. Although we don’t like to say it, there is no escaping that yet another basis for the rejection of ritual was driven by a desire to assimilate into American life. Rituals are the most particularistic expressions of Judaism. Shaking a lulav and etrog, laying t’fillin and wearing tzitzit could not share less in common with American Protestant culture. There was a strong, almost messianic motivation to re-cast the forms of Jewish life in ways that would make us appear to ourselves and others as not radically different from the non-Jewish world.

It is no wonder, then, that today’s Reform Jews are reclaiming rituals that had been rejected by earlier generations of Reform Jews. For one thing, our theology has continued to evolve. We no longer uphold the false and misleading dichotomy between ritual and ethics. Of course, the most essential expressions of our Jewish lives must be primarily concerned with our fellow human beings—the images of God that surround us every day. Such values are ensconced in ritual that is practiced thoughtfully. Mitzvot bein adam l’Makom (ritual commandments) can complement and reinforce mitzvot bein adam l’chavero (ethical commandments). The prophets whom we champion were not opposed to ritual. They were opposed to empty ritual that no longer embodied larger values. Even as it spoke of ethics as the central component of religious life, classical Reform never produced a radically different ethical Jewish way of life that was as strict about interpersonal ethics as other Jewish streams were about Jewish ritual law. For example, classical Reform did not become an American musar movement, similar to what existed in eastern Europe, exemplary and uncompromising in its ethical emphasis. Today’s Reform Jews tend to look at ritual not with the simplistic characterizations that marked early Reform’s rejection of ritual, but as meaningful opportunities to experience holiness in our lives.

Likewise, as Americans we have come to appreciate the place of ritual in all cultures. We no longer live in a nation that demands that everyone be the same. In our multi-cultural country and world, difference is celebrated. We understand that cultural and religious groups should be proud of their unique ways of expressing their most sublime ideas. It could be argued that an increased openness to Jewish ritual is indicative of a religious movement no longer attempting to make good Americans out of Jews, but rather helping thoroughly American third and fourth-generation Jews become more engaged in Jewish life. 

I am not fully convinced that the reclamation of traditional rituals signals as widespread a “return to tradition” as some suggest, though I wish that were the case. I want to see Reform Jews take more seriously ideas of duty and obligation. Reform Judaism would be greatly enhanced by a more nuanced understanding of halachah and the persuasive possibilities it presents in the lives of contemporary Jews. When I see the reclamation of ritual in Reform circles, it is striking that many such rituals are practiced quixotically, without a particularly strong sense of commitment or discipline. Many such choices will wither without strong and literate textual underpinnings and absent from communities that value those practices.

There still seems to me to be a very wide gap between “the talk” of informed choice and “the walk” of conventional Reform practice. Even our leadership tends to be largely suspicious and ambivalent of greater ritual observance. The fears of ritual practice are reflective of several disparate concerns. First, there is a fear that a new generation of Reform Jews may not feel comfortable in conventional Reform synagogues. But such discomfort will be a source for renewal and change that should be welcomed. Another fear stems from feeling that historically the emphasis in Reform Judaism has been ethics and not ritual, but this dichotomy must be broken down once and for all, as argued above. Finally, the turn-of-the-century fear of being “too Orthodox” has a long shelf-life in Reform Judaism. The price of such fear is too high, depriving members of Reform congregations many powerful and compelling ways to live out our Jewish lives day to day, moment to moment.

Personal autonomy must be increasingly applied in ways that allow individuals to “opt in” and not just “opt out” of mitzvot. We need to re-define Reform Judaism as an approach (or set of approaches) to Jewish life and law, rather than to continue to define it as a mode of practice.

The truth of the perception that Reform Jews are reclaiming traditions rejected by previous generations depends on what we mean by the word “reclaiming.” If we mean that more Hebrew is read and more yamachas are worn in mainstream Reform congregations, then the perception is accurate. If we mean, however, that more Reform Jews are integrating traditional Jewish practices and norms into their everyday lives, then the perception is misleading.

The word “reclaim” implies recovery. We reclaim an item that we have lost. Reclaiming has been a part of Reform since its beginning. The early Reform rabbis, such as Abraham Geiger in Germany and Kaufmann Kohler in the United States, sought to reclaim the ethical core of Judaism that had been lost in the thicket of stale rituals and a legalistic mindset. They sought to reclaim the “mission of Israel” from what Kohler called the “Oriental garb and tribalism of the Ghetto.” They reclaimed a central part of Judaism that had been lost, and integrated it into their self-understanding as Jews.  

The appearance of more traditional Jewish practices in Reform congregations today, as well as the inclusion in Mishkan T’filah, the new Reform prayer book, of traditional prayer language like michayei hamatim (reviving the dead), cannot be called a “reclaiming” for Reform Jews because Reform Judaism never embraced such practices. One could argue that it is a reclaiming of “traditional Judaism,” but traditional Judaism implies a comprehensive way of life and a sense of obligation to Jewish law. Few Reform Jews, I would argue, feel an obligation to follow traditional Jewish norms like the dietary laws, donning of ritual garments or regular immersion in the mikveh (Jewish ritual bath).

Rather than a reclaiming of Jewish traditions, what we are seeing, I think, is greater openness to traditional Jewish rituals among Reform Jews. This openness reflects the search for meaning and spirituality in America and the greater presence of Jews from more traditional backgrounds in Reform synagogues.

While appreciating and applauding attempts to draw from Jewish traditions in our quest for meaning and community, I have several concerns. First is the loss of focus on what makes Reform Judaism unique. As Reform Jews, we believe that worship needs to be accessible to the vast majority of American Jews who do not speak Hebrew. We believe that worship is intended to be edifying and sensible, not requiring us to say words we do not understand or believe. And we believe that worship should reflect the openness that Reform has shown to the intermarried, the unaffiliated and other groups whose only home is Reform. Rather than focus on promoting greater observance, we can use our freedom and creativity to meet the needs and aspirations of American Jews.

To put it differently, the question that concerns us should not be, “How can we bring more Jewish traditions into Reform synagogues?” Rather, we should be asking, “As Reform Jews, how can we best live out our principles and bring more American Jews and their families into the synagogue?” The question is a pressing one, as studies indicate that in 1960, about 60 percent of American Jews affiliated with a synagogue. In 2005 that number was 42 percent.  Many Jews today do not feel the need for commitment to a synagogue or Jewish community. They feel out of place and unwelcome.

To respond effectively to this trend, we need to balance the greater embrace of Jewish traditions in our congregations with a reclaiming of the universalism and openness of Reform Judaism. We need to remember, as the late Rabbi Alexander Schindler (president of the UAHC [now URJ] 1973-1995) put it, that Judaism is “a religion not of obeisance, but of dialogue; not of mere ritualistic piety, but of heart-felt responsibility; a religion in which halachah was not frozen like ice, but a soluble substance to be mixed with human tears.” If we remember these truths and act on them, we will assure our future and enlarge our vision of the possibilities for American Jewish life.