Conservative Currents: What is Conservative Judaism?

As a Conservative Rabbi, and, for those who know my background, as a former orthodox Jew as well, I am confronted with this question quite often by orthodox, reform and secular Jews alike.

My own congregation members sometimes ask me this question, trying to delineate that elusive boundary which differentiates them from members of other streams of Judaism. One would imagine that by now I would have a set answer all fashioned out, but the truth is that a clear-cut definition of Conservative Judaism is not so simple to provide, and I find myself revising my answers time and time again. I am not sorry that this is so, since formulaic answers are often less challenging than dynamic ones. 

• Orthodox Opinions: 'Core Judaism'
• Reform Reflections: Nouns and adjectives 

So what have some of my answers been?

At first I used to give the easy answer, which is that Conservative Judaism lies somewhere in the vicinity between orthodox and reform Judaism, being neither as severe as the one nor as lenient as the other. However, this simple retort is very problematic.

To start with, it defines us by who we are not, and Conservative Judaism is very much about what we are, what we do and believe, rather than who we negate. Also, this definition makes us seem like a compromise, a “supermarket of values” some say, and that is not my feeling at all.

A slightly more sophisticated response is that we adhere to tradition while accepting modernity. Although this is true, I don't think we can use it to define our uniqueness.

As I mentioned, I grew up in an orthodox household, and my parents certainly saw themselves as traditional as well as modern Jews. Few Jewish sects today wholeheartedly reject modernity – and I don’t mean only the acceptance of modern technology; I am speaking of some internalization of modern humanistic values, as well.

I have recently had a chance to read Simcha Cohen’s influential guidebook for the Haredi couple, called “The Jewish home”. In it he admits: “It would be a transgression of truth if we were to state that we have been entirely uninfluenced by the non-Jewish perception of work and working out of home [for women- A.], and so it would be untrue to say that [Haredi] women go to work only to help support the household” (p.57). In other words, from ultra-orthodox to secular Jews, we all deal with the same tension between modernity and tradition, neither of which any of us can shrug off.

I then came up with the answer that a Conservative Jew is one who is obligated both to Halacha and to the concept of pluralism. This usually raises an eyebrow or two: Can the twain ever meet? Although it is relatively easy to show how pluralism is an integral part of the Halachic system (Just think of the dictum “Elu V’Elu Divrei Elohim Haim” – “both these and those [differing opinions in Halach] are the voice of a living God”), it is more of a challenge to demonstrate how a Halachic Jew can hold a pluralistic stance toward non observant Jews, holders of other faiths and non-believers. I deeply believe it is not only possible but also imperative that we do so, and if you are looking for a philosophical foundation for this claim I urge you to read David Hartmann’s “A heart with many rooms”. However, the problem I have with this definition is not with the pluralistic side of the equation but rather with its counterpart. It is a fact, lamentable perhaps, that many Conservative Jews do no consider themselves as Halacha observers. To be honest, I’m not sure they all aspire to be Halachic either.  

Recently, over the past high holidays, in fact, as I was looking over the very diverse crowd of people who came to pray at our synagogue, another definition of Conservative Judaism occurred to me, rising out of the previous one, and I would like to share it with you:

I think that Conservative Judaism is  a Judaism for everyone and that it makes a positive effort to be accessible to all. I will try to explain what I mean.

Professors Jacob Katz and Moshe Samet define orthodoxy as a phenomenon of reaction. They argue that orthodoxy is not a direct continuation of Judaism as it was before the age of enlightenment. Part of orthodoxy’s new character is the fact it struggles against those who choose modernity over tradition. This reaction led leaders of Orthodox Judaism to decrees such as the need to avoid eating a secular Jew’s cooking, not counting him in a Minyan (no chance of counting a woman in any case…), and not allowing a secular Jew to marry an orthodox one.

Thus, orthodoxy chose the route of borders, of gate-keeping and of preserving Judaism “safe” for those committed to it by highlighting its structure of hierarchy. Many sociologists would argue that one of the most effective instruments for creating a community is to mark those who don’t belong by some sort of indication. Clearly, Orthodox leaders make good use of this tool.

To continue this line of thought, I would like to argue that the unique and challenging thing about Conservative Judaism is that it is traditional Judaism with open borders. When Solomon Schechter, one of founders and leaders of Conservative Judaism in the States, was trying to define his task he spoke of “Judaism of the whole Jewish peoplehood”, thus restricting the need for a specific movement, since he saw his potential audience as “everyone”.

This concept of Conservative Judaism as tradition with open borders came home to me through seeing the Masorti (aka Conservative) movement in Israel in action:

One of the most moving projects which the Masorti movement in Israel has initiated is the Bar/Bat Mitzvah for the Special Child project. When Judith Edelman Green established this project ten years ago under the auspices of the Masorti movement, she wanted to express how Judaism should be accessible - literally and figuratively - to everyone, no matter what limitations he or she might have. By now this program has helped thousands of children with Cerebral Palsy, Down syndrome, mental retardation, hearing impairments, autism and blindness to find innovative ways of having their own “Aliya” to the Torah. No one is turned away on the basis of the severity of his or her disability. People who participate in one of these ceremonies for the first time are frequently moved to tears in view of the deep excitement and joy on the faces of these children. Through the ‘opening of borders’, children who might not have been eligible to celebrate their coming of age in any other Jewish setting, found a spiritual home. This, for me, is Conservative Judaism at its essence: the conviction that the common base for all of us is the will to be part of the Jewish religion, and the fact that our hearts face God.

This concept means that we must not turn people away from our movement and synagogues, nor discriminate among them, on basis of gender, sexual preference, or level of observance. I am aware that my last sentence might infuriate some readers, among them Conservative Jews.

Where does one draw the lines? Some might ask, not unjustifiably. Well, my answer is that is all has to do with what we choose to focus on. Drawing lines is something the Judaism has a pretty good reputation for doing. Why don’t we focus for a change on the flexibility of those lines?

I readily admit that this concept raises major challenges for us. For starters, it does not enable us to differentiate ourselves from any fellow Jew since we want any fellow Jew to feel he has his or her share in Judaism. It also makes it impossible to reward the more observant among us even though we see observance of Halacha as one of out most cherished values. In other words, we can’t use our congregations to make sinners less welcome. And, of course, it is so much easier to feel “we belong” because others can’t. The challenge of forming a group which doesn’t define itself in mirror terms of “the other”, yet retains a sense of community and commitment, is anything but simple.

However, these are challenges that I'm proud to take upon myself, since they allow me to apply the value of mutual responsibility to all my brethren, and since it allows me to enrich my Judaism with an enormous variety of views, which challenge it and help it to continuously grow and develop.