Are independent congregations the future for liberal Jewish America?

Another relevant blog at jewschool. In Is the Economy Killing Off the Rabbinate?, Kol Ra'ash Gadol rejects Marilyn Henry's assertion in the Jerusalem Post—a hawkish rag that's no advocate of Diaspora life—that progressive Judaism in America (period!) might wither on the vine. Contra Henry, he (?) argues convincingly that not only are the Reform, Conservative, and non-denominational liberal seminaries not dying, but that the ongoing emergence of independent post-denominational congregations breathes new life—and new ways of being jewish—into our communal lungs.

Post-Geographic Judaism

An on-point blog from Y-Love at jewschool. At root: using social media is the way to build a virtual community (and to plan a physical one too) for the disaffected. Now that's what I'm blogging about.

What's in a name?

Philosophers, philologists, and sociologists (and, according to Genesis, Gd) understand the claim to ownership and power inherent in an act of naming. And while I dislike forcing organic phenomena into artificial pigeon holes, it seems useful at least to try to name—and, in the process, further describe for my friends—my understanding of Judaism. 

Some think they have a name for my Judaism; they call it "neo-Hasidism." But after trying on that name and wearing it for a time, I find it both too broad and too confining. 

So-called neo-Hasidism encompasses a wide range of theologies and practices rooted in, among other things, the:

• Thought of 20th century giants such as Martin Buber and Abraham Joshua Heschel
  
• Socio-spiritual teachings of ex-Hasids like Shlomo Carlebach and Zalman Shachter-Shalomi 
  
• Back-to-the-farm mystical Judaisms of Arthurs Green and Waskow and the Havurah Movement of the 1960s and 1970s

Now it's true that I share with various neo-Hasidisms a generic:

• Dissatisfaction with the dryness of modern Judaisms
  
• Love of old-school Hebrew liturgy and tunes
  
• Reaction to the anti-egalitarianism of traditional Judaisms
  
• Fascination with some joyous and mystical aspects of Hasidism 
  
• Frustration with the expensive, hierarchical nature of today's synagogues 
  
• Interest in complementary ideas often inspired by Asian philosophies and religions

But despite these commonalities, and while most neo-Hasidisms are avowedly egalitarian, the word Hasidism carries too much negative baggage for me and others, for whom it conjures visions of all manner of non-egalitarian orthodoxies. 

So here's a thought. Like Reform Judaism a century or so earlier, today's new Judaisms are born of the types of rifts in tradition that characterize modern history—they are born from modern humankind's urge to "do one's own thing." And precisely because this type of break is a recurring theme of Modernity, it should be possible to adopt and adapt a name for my Judaism that better describes where I come from and how I hope to be. 

The birth and rebirth of modern art remains the singular example of Modernity's self-consciously creative attack on tradition and itself. It comprises succeeding generations of young artists borrowing non-Western themes, sensibilities, and perspectives to break free from the Academy and each other. But the British punk rock explosion is the example that best serves the task at hand. It saw kids—musicians is too grand a term—rebel against a bloated rock and roll business that, by the mid-1970s, had lost sight of its inclusivity, its appeal to immediate experience, its disdain for authority, and its availability to the untrained. 

This punk rock attitude encompasses many of the concerns that drive my Judaism. It screams for a return to oft-forgotten or rejected roots in order to map more convincing and viable routes forward. And because the sublime system of thought undergirding all Judaisms understands the human animal as a necessarily social one, I know I can't map and travel those routes alone. So while some might find it more convenient and comfortable to call me a neo-Hasid—or even an oxymoronic "Traditional Egalitarian"—I'm happy for now being a Punk Rock Jew struggling to build a group. 

Earth Day celebrations—hangover or new beginning?

Sure it's easy to find your Tikkun Olam groove around Earth Day. But now we're eating vegetarian and composting raw food and garden scraps, coffee grinds, and more, we feel we're making tangible strides toward helping perfect—or at least protect—creation. We're nowhere near there yet—wherever "there" is—but we're better oriented than we were a year ago. 

I love how Kathy Freston reckons eating vegan impacts the environment: it does more to prevent global warming than buying a Prius. Simple. Here are some more of her many simple-but-telling comparisons: 

• Farmed animals excrete 60 times as much waste per day as the world's human population
  
• It takes 11 times more fossil fuel to make one calorie of animal protein than one calorie of plant protein
  
• Livestock worldwide consumes enough water in 24 hours for every human alive to shower eight times daily
  
• Farmed animals produce 40 percent more harmful emissions than all cars, trucks, planes, trains, and ships in the world combined

As composters, we are bumbling neophytes; proud owners of a shiny new Tumbleweed. It's light, was easy to assemble, and seems robust, and while we've not yet produced compost, I'm anticipating or have noticed at least three positive effects. Composting is good for our: 

• Yard, replacing expensive water-saving mulch and, over time, helping turn our Hill Country clay into quality planting soil
  
• Environment, helping us cut back massively on the amount of trash we send to the landfill 
  
• Kids, encouraging them to work in the yard, learn about the environment, and play at science 

Of course we also benefit personally from eating vegetarian and composting—we live more healthful, more interesting, and more joyful lives. But for us, performing Tikkun Olam—in these and many other ways—means carrying out mitzvot, and there's no reason carrying out mitzvot, and living Jewishly, should be anything but joyful. Talk about win-win.

Try to find the joy. Good shabbos.

Let's do Shabbat

You can talk and talk—or blog and blog—but it's doing that makes the difference. So here's some doing: to help build an egalitarian South Austin minyan, we plan to host two informal religious gatherings every month: 

• A family-centric Saturday evening Havdalah and pizza party
  
• A family-friendly Saturday morning learning service 

OK, enough with doing and back to the talk. How might these gatherings look and feel?

 

Havdalah is Havdalah is Havdalah. Kati can lead, I can lead, or anyone else can lead—please. But it takes no great planning and preparation. The service is short and sweet—really sweet; I love Havdalah—and provides the opportunity to share relaxed downtime with a hopefully growing circle of friends on a monthly basis. You bring the ruach, we'll buy the pizza.

 

Saturday morning services require more forethought. Here are some initial ideas—feel free to amend and append:

• Start short and sweet—45 minutes to an hour at most—with hope that interest engenders elongation
  
• Abbreviate the traditional Hebrew liturgy, building consensus around a few central Hebrew prayers—yes many new liturgies are at least in part bilingual and uniquely meaningful to their congregations, but the traditional Hebrew liturgy is an indispensible cultural glue that adheres Jews across space and through time
  
• Consider reading not singing prayers at first, allowing worshipers to learn not only to read and enact the prayers, but also to understand them
  
• Incorporate a brief reading from the week's Torah portion, perhaps even in English, and tie to topical issues
  
• Share responsibility for kids, with different parents volunteering for different services
  
• Make a simple vegetarian Oneg—we'll even provide the Manischewitz

Now is as good a time to start as any. We are happy to provide the impetus, but this must be a shared community in every way—unlike the dogmatic and fiscal autocracies that rule many synagogues. It will work only if everyone makes their voice heard respectfully and respectfully hears the voices of everyone else.

 

Your thoughts?