Synagogues today are doing their absolute best to make themselves accessible and palatable. They provide, in addition to core religious services and activities, every possible avenue for congregants to be a part of Judaism: Dinner-dances, auctions, book clubs, gift shops, speakers, inter and intra-faith collaborations; support groups for everyone from gays to lonely widowers, divorcees to single moms; flea markets, genealogy searches, discounts, memberships to athletic clubs; youth groups, community pre-schools, career fairs; chavarot, cooking classes, business workshops, outreach luncheons with the Rabbi at the workplace, afternoon teas with Talmud. Hospitals and homeless shelters are a-buzz with Mitzvah Days and ongoing contributions from caring individuals and committees; there are program directors, youth directors, camp directors, cantors and song-leaders, educational directors, head librarians; pastoral counselors, newsletter editors, and building administrators; security guards, custodians, maintenance crews, kitchen staff, and gardeners. Whew!
With the possible exceptions of ATM machines, and self-service gasoline pumps, it is difficult to imagine what more today’s synagogues could possibly do or provide to entice, encourage, entreat Jews to become more involved with Judaic life and culture. The rabbis are exhausted, the staffs are stressed, and the budgets are staggering.
Yet, without question, Jews are assimilating into non-Jewish society at a quickening pace. For the most part, their interests do not include Jewish causes or Jewish focus. Jewish observance is one of the least of their priorities. In spite of the crowds which may come to the synagogue for the High Holidays or life-cycle events; despite the numerous edifices erected in recent years with rosters of members proving commitment and caring, Judaism—like most religions—is in a slump.
Transformation 2000 is a current theme for followers of Reform Judaism—an overhaul of religious self-image. In fact, it was the key topic in the Spring Edition of the magazine, “Reform Judaism.” Okay. Good idea. The only questions are: Transform What? How? Why? If transformation is about more activities, more pressures on individuals, more gimmicks, more time & money commitments, forget it. People are at the edge, now, and it isn’t working. “More” will not help. “Different” might.
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A Parable
In 1873, Mr.’s Jacob Davis (tailor) & Levi Strauss (store-keeper) were issued the first patent for sturdy industrial strength denim pants with metal rivets (“waist overalls”). For over 125 years, “Levi’s” were the preferred or only available alternative as tough utilitarian-marketed workpants. The company made terrific jeans, and millions of dollars. Levi Strauss & Co. was the best—no question—and for a long time, the only. While not everyone wore jeans all the time, there was a definite need and place for them; they were purchased in enormous quantities around the world, and Levi Strauss made a “killing.”
Then, in 1999, it became apparent that the company known as the number one privately held clothing manufacturer in the world had lost 98.4% of its profits in one year. Sales dropped from $102 million to $5.4 million. What happened? Times changed; Levi’s had not.
Designer jeans; fashion fabrics; alternative colors; frou-frous, frills, and fancy labels. Different uses—dress-, casual-, sport-, corporate-wear; appeal to various shapes and sizes, stretch and cling, new styles and lines, older populations, younger populations, women, personal taste and elimination of the industrial look: Levi’s had competition (which had gradually been encroaching on its sales for years) that appealed to the mass marketplace in an entirely different way. Finally, the only element that the original waist overalls and its competitors had in common was denim. The rest was a very different presentation.
Levi Strauss & Co. still makes a terrific product. Those who appreciate the original content and purpose of its pants, buy its jeans. But the rest of the public is not so interested in old-fashioned notions like tradition, quality and durability. Rather, today’s consumers want what is expedient, cheap, sexy and trendy. Folks want what is fashionable—with their peers, and for the times. They want what everyone else is wearing.
In truth, does it really matter if one sports a pair of Calvin Klein’s, Wrangler’s, or Lee’s instead of a pair of Levi’s? Does it matter if jeans today are used for social and business opportunities as well as for farming and industry? That depends upon one’s point of view. Most would say, probably not. But, to the “Levi-ites,” it does matter, because they are dedicated to maintaining the original high quality of the product they have supported, worn, and purchased for over a century. Levi’s will always be Levi’s.
The challenge, however, is to make sure the corporation stays in business, and that is where smart, innovative and courageous marketing comes into play—additional styles that maintain the excellence of the original product and its use, while attracting new customers who have different fashion priorities, but who will also benefit from those strengths that have made Levi Strauss & Co. number one for so many years.
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So it is with the transformation of Judaism. It is not about diluting the original “product,” or heaping enormous tasks upon the shoulders of our synagogue personnel and rabbis; albeit, every effort to reach fellow Jews helps. What needs to be understood is that the real issues are not about what is going on in the synagogues; they are about what is occurring in the world outside the synagogues, and that is where Judaism (along with so many aspects of our society) has become outmoded.
Times have changed. Judaism, fundamentally, has not. That is the good news, and the bad news. The question Jewish leaders and developers have to ask themselves is where their priorities lie. If it is about increasing numbers, if it is about being of value in contemporary society, then Judaism must take a hard look at its core. It needs to change. If it is about maintaining values and traditions that have lasted for almost 6000 years then change is not so advisable.
Modifications are one thing: Today’s Orthodox are certainly more liberal than those of centuries ago. Modern Orthodox provides a more liberal variation on the theme. Conservative, Reform, Recontructionist, and more, provide Jews with almost as many choices as Protestants, when it comes to choosing the movement that best fits one’s lifestyle.
Change is another concept altogether. Our world today, outside the walls of religious liturgy, rituals, traditions, and belief, has little or nothing to do with the basic mythology and structure of Judaism, as it has existed for so many thousands of years.
Today’s world takes an entirely different direction. We are in the midst of mind-boggling revolution—technologically, economically, sociologically, and spiritually. Institutions and belief systems that seemingly have held forever are falling by the way, as we garner new information about our status in the universe, or our interconnected dependence upon economic failure and success with our world partners. We are dealing with sociological issues and genetic development that overwhelms the mind. Spiritually, it is impossible for us not to grow, not to find new heights and depths within which we are able to explore and enrich ourselves.
The concept of an all-powerful deity appears to be so useless in conjunction with today’s levels of awareness. It used to be that a god, the gods, or The God, was the explanation for the origin and power behind everything unknown: Sun & moon; drought or rain; birth & death; anger or sorrow… We have different, scientific answers now however, rendering the need for an almighty power obsolete: It recalls the Nietzschean cliché, “God is dead.”
If one is unnerved by our frenetic lifestyle and its overwhelming challenges, it is not prayer he/she seeks nearly so much as a prescription for Prozac or Xanax. Who needs heaven? Virtual cemeteries are in the works, and soon, there is little doubt that one will be able to log on to an Internet chat room with folks residing in the afterlife, should there be one.
With everything before us, the entirety of civilization resting within the reach of our fingertips upon our desktops, and proof of empirical facts and data accessible to us, why would one be attracted to the concept of an invisible, non-tangible god? Why would a religion initially established for an ancient, wandering, agrarian society trapped in constant prejudice, slavery, self-examination, and turmoil expect to attract supporters in this century and beyond?
Judaism is about study, practice, discipline, adherence, exclusion of the non-sacred—in action and belief. It is about the study of philosophy, law, education, and the good deed. It is demanding and rigorous. Why go to all this trouble searching for merit and worth when one can just as easily spend an afternoon in a tanning salon, getting a soothing massage with New Age music and aromatherapy?
Who needs religion when even baseball is out of step? Cyberspace has become so all encompassing that sports—yes, including “the great American pastime,” baseball—have fallen from favor. Sporting goods stores’ sales are down in team sports apparel and equipment. Folks are not as interested in playing; they are working, they are surfing the Web. There is little time for rest or repast, let alone the study and pursuit of religion.
Judaism is a religion of time, but who has time? There is no time, anymore. It is all taken up with the present; there is little regard or curiosity about the past, rare concern for the consequences of the future.
Judaism is a very tough, demanding, challenging way of life. Most people today would just as soon take an easier route, instead of all that thinking, pondering and postulating. It is much simpler just to meditate inner truths; it is more soothing to accept the unflinching love of Christ, where the single necessary criterion for acceptance and observance is “to believe.”
An overwhelming number of individuals now live outside the traditional family unit. Judaism is only about the traditional family. While social action committees in synagogues and community federations are vigorously trying to include and accommodate single, alternative, and/or disabled lifestyles, the bottom line is that Judaism itself—its teachings and its writings—does not support a reality that goes beyond a very narrow definition of who is acceptable within the fold. It is not that Judaism is so exclusive; it is that Judaism’s values have not been amended since technology began to prolong life, or since individuals adopted other living arrangements than the traditional norm of “grandparents, mom, dad, and the kids.”
Truthfully, there are multiple reasons for Jews to adhere to that particular family mode. In addition to the psychologically and sociologically obvious, the commitment to Judaism is nigh impossible if left to one individual, only. There are so many tasks that have to be shared; it is not about sexist roles—the feminists dealt with those issues in short shrift. It is simply too much work to be alone and be Jewish. If a single individual or a disabled person genuinely wants to practice observant Judaism, not to mention working fulltime and/or possibly supporting a child, it is exhausting, defeating, discouraging, and depressing.
Frequently, the practice of Judaism, with its focus on family, community, and the joys of sharing with others, serves to further remind the person who lives alone, not of the presence of God but instead, of the absence of one’s friends and family. The rigors of Jewish practice are so enormously overwhelming for a single adult Jew, that the sheer workload absorbs much of the pleasure and energy. Even Martha Stewart (today’s maven of organization and nifty ideas for celebrating tradition) would succumb if she became a practicing Jew by herself. It is just too hard.
All of these juxtapositions against contemporary society take its toll on one’s ability to commit to Judaism. We live in a world that is entirely goal-oriented. We forget about the enrichment of the process and we look forward to the completion of the task. “Easy as can beezy” says an advertisement. Today is seldom about quality of life—taking time off or time out. How many people eat lunch at their desks but take time to pray? How many carry cell phones, pagers, and laptop computers but take one day in seven for a rest? Where does Judaism as it has been for so many thousands of years, fit in a world where the stock market—not Talmud—determines business practice?
Assimilation. The subject has been beaten to death. Who needs to hear more? Why should a Jew be ostracized when he/she knows the value of acceptance, having denied ownership of this invisible minority? Certainly, there is a greater awareness of Jewish culture today and at many levels, greater acceptance. But make no mistake: It is still a lot easier to be non-Jewish than it is to be Jewish.
Finally, the mythology itself is just plain outmoded. It is a heck of a stretch to figure out why Moses wandered around in the desert for forty years when he simply could have used his cell phone to call AAA for help. People today—children especially (which is when identification with a culture starts to take effect)—are too sophisticated for story telling that has virtually nothing in common with everyday reality other than obscure allegorical lessons in morality. What is the difference between the archaic legends of Odysseus battling the Cyclops, and Joshua blowing trumpets to down the walls of Jericho? Jewish mythology in contemporary context does not work. It is unbelievable to the point of being laughable.
The tragedy is, a civilization without a mythology—without representative heroes it can idealize and emulate—will not and cannot survive. This, more than any other factor, will determine the future of Judaism. There must be a believable mythology from which values can be learned, incorporated into the psyche of the self; this mythology must have something in common with, and be able to enhance the civilization it represents.
We enter the 21st century with a kind of nihilism towards those ideas and practices about which we felt certain—ways that we knew would never change, but have. Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and Mother Goose are ancient archetypes to many of today’s children.
Instead, it’s Pokemon, Nintendo, and Sega. Even the Walt Disney Co.’s stock is down—their stores and clubs are closing. Old Disney mythology is not working as well. Sleeping Beauty has narcolepsy; Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck are struggling on the fast track; Snow White is a hooker who sleeps with seven vertically challenged men.
Religion, like all the rest of the claptrap that gave charm and meaning to a simpler, more naïve and trusting way of life, is going the way of the clothesline, the washboard, rumble seats, and the dial telephone. For those who desire to worship, but seek a religion with a god who does not demand questions or answers (which is precisely what Judaism is all about), there is always the soothingly passive commitment to Christianity. Judaism is not for the feint of heart, mind, body or spirit.
So what is one to do? It is easy enough to point out all the foibles and failings. The tough part is finding workable solutions.
Judaism has survived so far because its basic core is strong. Its foundation is based upon morally and ethically correct assumptions. Like so many aspects of our contemporary world, however, Judaism is struggling with its outer appearance—its persona or presentation. One might say, “It is not Judaism that is out of step, it is the rest of the world.” From one point of view, that is absolutely true. But true or not, times change. Reminisce we shall—the “good old days—“but nostalgia, regret, and reminiscence do not return the past; they only cloud and impede what must be accomplished for the future.
Bluntly put, the packaging is wrong. Jewish ritual is wondrous, passionate; if one takes the time and effort to study, practice, and appreciate, it is truly meaningful and enriching. Alas, it has so little to do with what makes sense in our lives today, e.g.: One can eat meat or milk foods interchangeably on the same glass dish because glass is deemed to be non-porous by Jewish law. Therefore, the meat or milk will not be absorbed into the “pores” of the plate, mixing with the next meal placed upon it; however, one cannot eat both of these food groups on the same plate if it is made of china, plastic, or pottery, no matter how highly glazed or fired, because of the potentially porous nature of these raw materials.
Despite all safety inspections by the FDA and the Commerce Departments, and the highly developed technology of manufacturing dinnerware, a kosher home must have 2 sets of dishes if they are to be made from any materials other than glass. Once, this issue of porosity was of appropriate concern. Now, it is tradition, only, and makes no sense practically or scientifically. A kosher home, once mandated by rabbinic laws based Scriptural law—as well as hygienic necessity—is for most of today’s practicing Jews, merely a quaint resonance of the past.
It used to be that Jews were forcibly isolated from the rest of society. While physically they may have lived amongst others, they were sociologically, psychologically, and spiritually segregated from them. In truth, one purpose of many Judaic rituals is to heighten the separation between the sacred and the profane, the Jew and the non-Jew.
Today however, as with everything else, to be Jewish or not is a choice. One may live with his/her people or without them, practice the rituals or not, learn from the Torah or avoid it, culturally identify with or assimilate into the sea of alternative masses. Choice is probably the toughest part about being a human being in contemporary society. There are so many, and the consequences are not always clear or happening soon enough to be recognized in the immediate decision making process.
Jews have choices about their heritage, too. If they choose to leave it intact, then they must realize that their numbers will be smaller; some observances may become challenged or even abandoned. Jews must take the responsibility for preserving a kind of other-worldliness that belongs within the privacy of the home, the parochial school, the seminary, and the synagogue, while simultaneously practicing Jewish values in the world at large. The teachings of Judaism are timeless and life-long in their messages and worth. But the task of extrapolating these messages from antiquated texts, teachings, and a mythology that is virtually useless in these most de-humanized, technologically zooming, and narcissistic times, is no easy challenge.
The task of Jewish preservation is not for the well intentioned but worldly, volunteer religious-school teacher; nor is it for the rabbi who is steeped in Talmud, but knows little about reality beyond the seminary. There is a huge gap between the presentation of Judaism in today’s world, and today’s world, itself. Thus far, there are very few bridges, and the culture is drowning in its own inability to transpose and reinvent itself. For Judaism to survive, its instructors must be able to transpose from the religious to the mundane and back again, granting both worlds clear, inter-related, and equally significant meaning.
One can choose, of course, to avoid a Jewish attempt to relate to the outside world. This is what the Orthodox have done. Orthodox Judaism, with few changes, is preserved in time. Truthfully, it is for the most part, functioning quite well. For those who decide to make religion the primary focus of their lives, Orthodoxy is the way to go. It is safe, it is a closed system, choices are limited, and the ancient liturgy and mythology are as fresh and vibrant in the Orthodox world as they ever were. There is a beauty to the past that cannot be denied. Partially, this is because the Orthodox world has allowed so many of the advantages, as well as so many of the disadvantages of time to pass it by. It is a series of Moritz Oppenheim illustrations, with exquisite portrayals of nineteenth century traditional Judaism.
Or, if one prefers, he can choose to take a firm hold of Judaism, as it were, squeeze it tight until all the outmoded trappings fall off, then see what is left. This is the marrow, and must be preserved. The rest of it must renew itself: Practices, rituals, prayer, mythology, law. Shulchan Aruch is out. Talmud is out. If it does not work, skim off the teachings, re-create them into a new and more presentable form, and leave the rest to the archivists and historians. Sacrilege or renovation—it depends upon one’s point of view.
Moses gets a backpack to hold the Ten Commandments for his treks up and down Sinai; he uses railings provided for the elderly and disabled, and rest stops along the way. He wears sunscreen, applies insect repellent, and wears outfits that look more like Indiana Jones than an old man in a dress. The finger of God is a laser, and with it He writes the Tablets.
Midrash—the wonderful more contemporary tall tales and explanations that enlighten us about the even taller tales in the ‘Scriptures—wax more valuable than the ‘Scriptures, themselves. It is through Midrash that we can begin to make meaningful sense out of non-sense and old-fashioned legends from too long ago. The whole set of Judaic beliefs and teachings gets a facelift and a classy, updated makeover. What was once a stale leftover from bygone times becomes an accessible, workable presentation for young and old in the twenty-first century.
Or not.
This is ultimately what Transformation 2000 needs to be about. It is not about having a swimming pool next to the synagogue sanctuary, or congregationally written services and prayers. It is not about the rabbi being a shrewd businessman as well as a Judaic scholar. It is not about glitzy Torah covers or the import of hand-painted talit for women as well as men. Before individuals and families take advantage of all the perks available as a part of synagogue life, there has to be a desire to be practicing Jews, in the first place.
What Transformation 2000 is about is making a deliberate choice: One, withdraw from this century and live in the cloistered, protected, eternally preserved old-world Jewish culture; another, accept the separation of Judaism, its practices, traditions, and beliefs from non-Judaic society (This is with the understanding that this very separation limits the population who will either seek it, and/or who will want to continue to identify with Judaism in accordance with his/her birthright. It no longer becomes a matter of re-packaging, re-inventing, and marketing, but of accepting the basic strengths and weaknesses of Judaism as they are.); or third, take the core of Jewish beliefs and re-present them in an updated fashion, so that Jews will no longer look for an easier path outside of Judaism, but will find contemporary meaning within their own cultural teachings, instead. They will thrive upon a way of life that was the old but has become the new.
These are the choices for Transformation 2000: Judaism may isolate from the world; separately co-exist with the world; or, embrace the world. There can be blending, modifications, combinations of all three. But these are essentially the three distinct paths from which Jews must choose to travel if we intend to preserve our heritage. One is about spirituality, ritual, and tradition. Another is about a kind of dual world belief where two views of reality coexist side-by-side, complementing, but not necessarily infringing upon one other. (This path is the toughest, because it demands highly disciplined, educated minds which, for the sake of preserving tradition, may alienate those who are less than determined to handle such responsibility.) The third choice is about success—the continued success of a religion and culture that has made it across the chasm of antiquity and time by meeting the needs of its people. All are right, none is wrong. It will be interesting to see which way the pendulum will swing.
Postscript
Levi Strauss & Co., by the way, had profits that were up $45 million, second quarter this year. There are still difficulties to overcome, but it is hopefully on its way again. What did it do? It restructured. It still makes the same fine product it always did, but in smaller numbers. Instead, there are fashionable new lines and high-tech marketing—the company’s focus is now on the future instead of the past.
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