After facilitating a discussion on reforming Judaism with an
audience of Reform Jews I felt I had a better handle on the real challenge
facing contemporary Reform Judaism.
My focus was on taking the old forms of Judaism—kashrut,
Shabbat, God, prayer, Torah—and reforming them: ethical consumption, play,
self-realization, contemplative practice, and critical/imaginal thinking. What
I found was people in no need of such reforming because they had lost interest
in form altogether.
They didn’t need to remake kosher because they had no
intention of ever restricting their consuming in any way other than person
preference. There was no need to rethink Shabbat because they had stopped
thinking about Shabbat long ago. God wasn’t taken at all seriously, and prayer
was a matter of social convention and communal gathering in which the liturgy
itself was irrelevant. While some in the class enjoyed Torah study they had no
need to find new meanings in the text because they didn’t engage Torah as a
source of meaning, but as a lesson in history.
Simply put, my passion for reforming Judaism wasn’t shared
by the people with whom I hoped to reform it. While I yearn for a Judaism where
old forms yield to new meanings, my students wanted a Judaism without form, or
at least without any form that demanded anything from them. Their rejection of
form wasn’t driven by a passion for freedom, but by a desire to be left alone.
The goal isn’t to be free from constraints—they have no constraints—but to
avoid any hint of constraint. But again this isn’t a drive toward freedom or
anarchy, both of which I can respect; it is simply apathy. And against that we
may be powerless.