I am grateful to my friend and colleague, Rabbi Evan Moffic, for his clarity and insight, and for the opportunity to engage each other on these issues. Both of us are skeptical about the degree to which Reform Jews are embracing a return to tradition. Picking and choosing a few traditional practices that were rejected by previous generations of Reform Jews does not necessarily represent a desire to live a more comprehensive Jewish life on the part of those who take on such practices. It is my hope that the attraction to such rituals will ultimately lead to a more thoughtful and disciplined way of Jewish life—one that takes our texts seriously (although not literally), and one that places much greater emphasis on notions of duty and obligation as they apply to both ritual and ethics.

I think that Rabbi Moffic is partially correct in his assertion that the early classical Reformers were seeking “to reclaim the ethical core of Judaism that had been lost in the thicket of stale rituals and a legalistic mindset.” However, in hindsight, it seems as though they threw out the baby with the bathwater, creating a false dichotomy between ethics and ritual, and ultimately failing to create a Judaism that was driven by a serious and passionate set of ethical commitments. Had they produced a form of Jewish life that was as rigorous about ethics and interpersonal relations as traditional Judaism is about ritual, it would have served as the kind of corrective that Rabbi Moffic is claiming it was.  Imagine the contribution to American Jewish life that could have been made by a denomination characterized by strictness about hospitality, the refusal to engage in gossip, truth, compassion, respect for one another. While we could certainly benefit from an ultra-ethical Judaism, classic Reform never achieved this. I wish it had. 

In describing that which makes Reform Judaism unique, Rabbi Moffic places a great deal of emphasis on worship. I would argue that greater use of Hebrew does not have to mean less accessibility for those who do not (yet!) know how to read Hebrew. I strongly disagree that the prayer book needs to be comprised of words we believe or find sensible.  The prayer book is the poetry of the Jewish people. Its words do not have to be read literally. In fact, when we change the words in an attempt to make them more consistent with our contemporary theology, we rob ourselves of the opportunity to make meaning from one of the classic texts of Jewish history. Prayer book reform reflected a time when laity would be put off by texts that were difficult or challenging. Today’s Reform Jews (and readers in general) may in fact value interpretation over revision. I will give one example. The hymn Yigdal, based upon Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles of Faith and composed in the early-fifteenth century by Daniel ben Yehudah Dayan, has been re-written in every American Reform siddur, including the new Mishkan T’filah. In order to make the last line—“God will raise the dead”—more consistent with Reform theology, the words of this poem are changed to “Eternal life you planted in our souls.”  Can one imagine playing with the words of Shakespeare, who lived more than a century and a half after this poem was composed?  Do we really still believe that Reform Jews reading the original words in the synagogue would become alienated or come to view Judaism as insensible?

In his conclusion, Rabbi Moffic urges a balance between the embrace of Jewish tradition and our dedication to universalism. Those Reform Jews embracing Jewish ritual practice are not abandoning commitments to the world.  Strikingly, many of the same Jews who are laying t’fillin, building sukkot and observing Shabbat in more traditionally halachic ways are also the same ones who are volunteering in Honduras, raising consciousness about Darfur and working to save our environment. Today we are blessed with numerous examples of communities where the commitment to Jewish ritual is practiced side-by-side with an equally strong commitment to the world at large. Some of the most dynamic prayer communities drawing hundreds of young people in urban areas across the country are experiencing success precisely because of their emphasis in both ritual and ethics, unapologetically embracing Jewish life and applying that same commitment to the world at large. 

Our future will be assured by passion and commitment. These qualities must be allowed to express themselves in ritual as well as ethics, in the universal as well as the particular.

I agree with my good friend Leon Morris’s contention that Reform Judaism is not primarily a mode of practice. Rather, it is an ideology, an approach to Jewish law and traditions. We disagree, I think, over the ideals and goals that should govern that approach.

The first area of disagreement is the legitimacy of distinguishing between ritual and ethical commandments. As Rabbi Morris rightly points out, many Reform Jews do draw such a distinction, seeing the ethical imperatives, such as leaving a corner of your field for the poor and hungry, as of far greater significance than the ritual ones, such as shaking the lulav and etrog on Sukkot. He argues that it is time to eliminate this “false and misleading dichotomy.” My feeling is that distinction is neither false nor misleading. While the Torah does frequently put the ethical and ritual commandments side-by-side, there is a basis for privileging the ethical. We need only look at the Ten Commandments, for example, where the ethical (honor thy father and mother, do not murder, do not steal, do not commit adultery, do not covet, etc.) clearly predominate over the ritual.

Rabbi Morris is right to point out that Reform has not developed a unique theological approach to Jewish ethics. This challenge is a compelling one, and creating a comprehensive theology connecting our everyday ethical decisions with our beliefs (as Joseph Telushkin has sought to do in his Code of Jewish Ethics) would enrich the Reform Movement immensely. Yet, our movement has emerged as the leading progressive voice on social, political and religious issues in America and Israel, and by emphasizing the partnership between clergy and laity we have the most democratic structure of the leading Jewish movements. This ethical and democratic impulse is evident in many decisions of the Reform Movement, including the acceptance of patrilineal descent and support of civil unions for Jewish gay and lesbian couples.

The second area of disagreement is over Reform’s approach to ritual. Rabbi Morris argues that the early Reformers approached Judaism with a feeling that ritual was “primitive” and “superstitious,” that it undermined the pursuit of ethical living, and that it was a distasteful barrier to assimilation. I see their approach to ritual as both more complex and compelling. The early Reformers did not reject ritual per se. Rather, they did not see ritual as a means of fulfilling Jewish legal obligations, as in Orthodoxy. Rather, ritual and ceremony were means of inculcating religious truths, of creating a sense of awe and splendor and of guiding worshippers toward ethical living. The first purpose was exemplified in the communal recitation of the Sh’ma, the second in the enormous sanctuaries and stained glass windows common in classical Reform congregations, and the third in the centrality of the sermon in Reform worship.

Rabbi Morris points out that some of these changes embraced by the early Reformers were motivated by the customs of American Protestant churches. This may well be the case. Yet, as the late Rabbi Gerson Cohen of the Jewish Theological Seminary pointed out in his famous essay “The Blessing of Assimilation in Jewish History,” Judaism has survived by learning and drawing from the surrounding cultures in ways that enrich and sharpen our message. Feminism, civil rights, universal human rights and environmentalism are only a few of the ideals that Reform Judaism has drawn from American society and culture.

Finally, Rabbi Morris suggests that a fear of being “too Orthodox” leads many Reform Jews away from greater ritual practice. While some Reform Jews may indeed fear seeming “too Orthodox,” and while some may lack a sense of obligation toward Jewish life (as is the case by persons in every liberal movement), my sense is that many Reform Jews embrace and demonstrate an abiding commitment to certain core Reform Jewish values, which include egalitarianism, the centrality of ethics, pluralism, the imperative of Jewish survival and an inclusive approach to interfaith and “non-traditional” families. Rather than rejecting and minimizing their Jewish commitment, Reform Jews are seeking to live a rich Jewish life within the evolving culture of twenty-first century North America.