A Few Final Thoughts on the Ordination

(For anyone that did not read my original post, please take a peak one below first!)

For me, the most immediate effect of Thursday’s historic ordination of Abraham Geiger Kolleg graduates is that I no longer have to explain myself or put parenthesis around my statements when people ask me which Rabbinical School I will be attending. As we say in the software world, “Do you really want to be in the bleeding edge?” Sandra and I always have received from most (but not all) folks a little bit of the, “Yeah, right,” look whenever we told/described/explained that we would be moving to Germany to go to rabbinical school. In all seriousness, I just want to say that the world coverage, the unanimous world recognition of the significance of this event, and the support that I have received from many of you via email has moved me. Thank you all for your ongoing support, and now that the world has peeked into this phenomenal thing that is happening, I just want to add one last item to ponder:

Rabbi Daniel Alter, the only native German born of the three newly ordained has been called to serve at the synagogue in Oldenburg, which just happens to be an Orthodox Shul. Now this is not the first time that someone educated in one tradition has chosen or been chosen to lead congregations in another, but there is something else going on here: Something, perhaps, monumental.

The more alike two things are, the more we notice the differences. Having now been immersed in more than one major religious tradition in my life, I can say with a great deal of confidence that the desire to dispute the details almost always overrides any attempt to agree on the major issues. Even within my own congregation, some of the most emotional issues that we have dealt with in recent years have revolved around specific issues of food. I am not saying that the discussions in and of themselves are bad. As the chairman of the Religious Practices committee at my Shul (and a loved and respected friend of mine) said during one of these emotional debates, working through these issues is a sacred obligation—a mitzvah. In the Jewish tradition, one only needs the most surface reading of the Talmud to see that the discussion itself carries every bit the wisdom and value as the decisions that come from the discussions. Even in Torah—are we not the Children of Israel because Israel/Jacob wrestled with G-d? Yet let me submit that there is a huge difference between the process of working out differences and the refusal to even come to the table to begin the conversation. I know that in the States the various traditions of Orthodox thru to Reform meet for social action goals, but attempts to cohesively and comprehensively come to the table as partners in the same faith tradition have failed. Why? Mitzvot and women on the Bimah and Kashrut and conversion and Torah and Talmud and tradition and choice and homosexuality and prayer and and and blah! Yes—these are all important! The essence of so much of that which makes this faith tradition special to specific followers of this faith tradition is wrapped up into the perspective one takes on the list above. And don’t think any other faith tradition is exempt. In mere moments I could easily create an analogous list for my Christian and Muslin and Hindu and Humanist and Non-Believing and any-other-tradition-or-non-tradition- you-can-imagine-friends as to why and upon what we choose to argue that keeps us from focusing on the business of healing this world. Again, I am not saying that for any tradition these things are unimportant. I am merely asking if any of these items are worth, in my tradition for example, folks not coming together to address the items that are universal to all? The duties whose worth cannot be measured? The honoring father and mother and the acts of loving kindness and the visiting the sick and the praying with sincerity and the making peace where there is strife and the celebrating with bride and groom and the consoling the bereaved and, yes the study of Torah which leads to them all. That we may disagree on the specifics of these—does that mean we cannot support each other in the very real struggle to approach each of these duties? If I don’t believe that G-d dictated Torah by rote to Moses, does that mean my study of Torah, my teachings, the inspiration and the bond in these words that take me back thousands of years and change my life have any less relevance or significance? Jews have always struggled with the items in these lists of details, as have sincere followers of other faiths and no faiths. The struggle is not the dangerous part—it is the not meeting at the table in the first place that will tear us apart.

So here we have Germany—the last place most Jews would look after the holocaust to find enlightenment. In the place where Reform Judaism was born and some of the greatest Jewish philosophers and scholars in all of history lived and wrote-- after years of struggling for recognition, a small band of 5000 or so “liberal” Jews, mostly from Russia, fought for recognition from the governing body of Jews in Germany, an Orthodox organization, and won the recognition. Through the efforts of people like Jan Muhlstein and Uri Regev and Walter Homolka and too many others to mention, the first congregations of the liberal congregations in Germany were accepted in February. I did not sit in any of the rooms where these great decisions were made, only saw as an outsider the rejection in previous years and finally the wonder of the change this year – and now a Rabbi educated at the daring little liberal Jewish island called Abraham Geiger Kolleg is serving at a congregation of a different sort. On a TV interview I heard Rabbi Alter say, roughly translated, that his primary two focuses in this experience now were to be a good father and to be a good rabbi for his new community. Not to change the minds about the kleinigkeiten, but rather serve in a country whose new/old Jewish pioneers have recognized, at least for the present in this small way, that they didn’t really have the luxury of not coming to the same table. I will have to do some research, but I am pretty sure that it is accurate to say, that since the founding of Reform Judaism in Germany in the 19^th century, this is a first. May we all learn this lesson from, of all places, Germany. Keyn Y’hi Ratzon.

Paul