Thursday, January 1, 2009

Sermon 12.26.08 - Reform Judaism and Chabad

Several years ago, I read the now somewhat famous book “One People, Two Worlds”, in which a Reform and Orthodox rabbi discuss, or rather argue over various topics. The book presents a wide chasm between these two Jewish denominations, to the extent that the reader may openly question what remains in common. I had previously used it to teach about Jewish denominations and their differences. But this past summer, prompted by the book, I decided to create a Tauber adult education course which to co-lead with an orthodox rabbi. I was optimistic that we could find more in common than the two authors of the book.
But where to find someone to teach the course with me? San Francisco is somewhat unique in that we lack a strong orthodox presence for such a major city. Everywhere I looked, I kept arriving at the same answer: Chabad. Chabad, which stands for chesed, bina and da’at – kindness, knowledge and wisdom, is a distinct orthodox community, formed in 18th century Eastern Europe, which seeks to preserve traditional rituals and customs through enhanced spirit and intention. They have been so successful here in San Francisco that the entire county now has only one non-Chabad orthodox congregational rabbi – Rabbi Joshua Strulowitz of Congregation Adat Israel in the Sunset. It has filled the niche for more traditionally observant Jews by setting up shop throughout every neighborhood of the city. Ok, so Chabad it was. Now I just had to narrow it down to a specific Chabad rabbi!
I had heard of Rabbi Gedaliah Potash of Chabad of Noe Valley through several of our congregants, who send their kids to his wife Leah’s preschool, Gan Noe Valley, held in their home. Each had commented on his kind and warm demeanor, as well as his brilliance. And so one day this past Summer, I made an appointment and headed down to Noe Valley to meet him. There, I found myself across the table from a kindred spirit . Born a single day apart from one another, we could have easily switched places, with different clothing and beards and fooled everyone around us. Here we were, two San Francisco rabbis, born a single day apart and working a few miles from one another, and yet in seemingly separate worlds. We committed that day to breach this gap and to bring Reform and Chabad Jews together, not in the spirit of division or condemnation, but rather in partnership and learning. And so, for the past 2 months, members of Congregation Emanu-El and Chabad of Noe Valley have come together one night each week to study Torah and to learn from one another.
Historically speaking, this class presents a radical break from the avoidance practiced between Reform and Orthodox communities. At the same time, Reform Judaism and Chabad share common roots as modern responses to the perceived banality of rote custom. We only differ in the remedy: While Chabad sought to imbue ritual with additional kavanah (insight), Reform Judaism chose to reconsider those rituals and liturgies which no longer held meaning in the modern world. But as the Reform movement now continues its current trend towards a re-examination of once dismissed customs, we sensed an opportunity to learn from one another. After all, we share not only a common past but a common vision as well: To reach out to those on the periphery of Judaism; to welcome and inspire them to bring the majesty of Judaism into their homes. And so we set out on this journey together.
Along with 15 classmates from both communities, we have wrestled with such pivotal issues as the authority of oral and written Torah, the role of mitzvoth, patrilineal and matrilineal descent, the place of women in society, messiah and messianism, Zionism and the Jew’s role in the world. At times the discussion has become heated and we have agreed to disagree. But throughout the thorniest of issues, we have rededicated ourselves to the idea of klal yisrael; that we are ultimately one people with both a shared history and destiny. All Israel is responsible for one another, not just those who share common views or customs. And in due course, we have found much more in common than we have in conflict.
Two weeks ago, we celebrated Shabbat together at Chabad of Noe Valley and at Rabbi Potash’s home, where we sat together for a festive meal. Over food, song and plenty of alcohol, the group toasted our newfound connection and friendship. Rabbi Potash’s eldest son, Mendel, all of 11 years old, blessed our entire group with wishes for long life, happiness and of course, moschiach. The entire class has also shared in moments of tragedy, such as the inspiring memorial for the victims of the Mumbai attack, including Rabbi Potash’s yeshiva classmate, Gavriel Hertzberg. Our discussions have consistently spilled over the allotted class time and students have regularly elected to study together into the late hours of the night. Overall, we have learned that contact and exchange does not only lead to quarrel, but can be utilized towards understanding and connection as well.
I recognize that this experience is somewhat unique. There are few places in the world where Orthodox and Progressive Jews study together, much less Chabad and Reform. In Israel and even on the East Coast, such an exchange is virtually unheard of. Again, this speaks to San Francisco’s unique Jewish community. As the largest US city to be founded by Progressive rather than orthodox Jews, San Francisco has never maintained a central Jewish neighborhood. The barriers to assimilation have always been remarkably low, as this is the only major US city to never pass a single ordinance or quote against Jewish participation in civil, political or professional matters. Indeed, this congregation was built with Moorish architecture as a reference to the golden era of 13th and 14th century Spain, in which Jews, Christians and Muslims lived side by side in harmony. San Francisco was built on the romantic model of heterogenous tranquility. All of these factors have led to uniquely friendly and courteous relations between both religious sects and inter-religious denominations. In Israel, one would be hard pressed to find a Chabad rabbi who would be willing to call a Reform or Conservative rabbi by their title. And yet at the Mumbai memorial service, the Chabad community went out of its way to invite all of us, even Rabbi Mintz who as a female and openly gay rabbi, has two strikes against her in the eyes of the ultra-orthodox community.
On the flip side, many progressive Jews dismiss or polemicize against Chabad as a cult, due to the fact that a slim minority of its members regard Rabbi Menachem Schneerson as the messiah. Others openly dismiss Chabad due to its public activities, such as town square menorah lightings or eager emissaries, ready to have wrap any passing Jewish man in tefillin. And yet here in San Francisco, we share common rabbinic boards, the nation’s only major inter-denominational mikvah and burial society, and see one another quite regularly.
I strongly believe that if we refuse to speak with one another, we ultimately suffer from our own insulation. Parshah Nitzavim, which we read each Yom Kippur, reminds us that the Torah is truly not in the heavens, but rather in our mouths and hearts. If so, then we find completion only in engaging the Torah found in the other. This is the major lesson we learn from Martin Buber, himself an amalgam of the progressive and Hasidic movements. And so I present this tale as an example of collaboration, in the spirit of the psalmist: Hinei ma tov u ma nayim shevet achim gam yachad. Behold, how good and pleasant it is for brothers and sisters to come together in unity. I look forward to continuing our effort to live up this lofty promise of achdut, a connected people hood. I hope that you will join me through your endeavors as well. As Rabbi Ben Zoma teaches us in Pirke Avot: Who is wise? The one who learns from everyone. Shabbat Shalom