Autonomy

I've been going through some of the books I read when first exploring Judaism and came across One People, Two Worlds: A Reform Rabbi and an Orthodox Rabbi Explore the Issues That Divide Them by Ammiel Hirsch and Yaakov Yosef Reinman. I highly recommend it for anyone who is just beginning to read about Judaism and is curious about the differences between Orthodox and Reform. And I encourage people who already know where they stand to read it as well. It is basically a book-long conversation through e-mails between a Reform rabbi and an Orthodox rabbi. As I re-read sections a number of things that I've been mulling over recently seemed to become coherent strands of thought, which is what's below.

“You misunderstand the concept of autonomy in the non-orthodox world. It is not ‘legitimized nonobservance as a final destination,’ as you describe. Rather it is an effort to encourage people to become more observant with greater and longer-lasting commitment, through their free and voluntary acceptance of the yoke of commandments. This is what freedom means in the Jewish sense. It is no the ability to do, or the desirability of doing, as we please, but the exercise of free will so we can better serve God.”

--Ammiel Hirsch, in response to Yosef Reinman, One People, Two Worlds, p. 236

That is the best argument (or at least the most coherent and straight-forward one) for Reform autonomy that I have read. I am a big believer in autonomy, in making informed choices, not only about your personal observances, but about what you believe. I think all Jews by Choice value autonomy to a certain degree, whether they are Reform, Conservative, or Orthodox. Because we all made very clear efforts to make a a break with our upbringing, to educate ourselves, and with that information make a choice about what we believe and where we would seek out God and community.

Beyond that I believe that God likes people who are able to challenge things, challenge God, stand up for what they believe—our best examples are two of our most revered figures in the Torah, Moses and Abraham. We learn early on that non only is it okay to argue with God it is practically encouraged. Why should we, as modern Jews, heirs to the same covenant that began with Abraham, behave differently?

It all comes back to how you view the transmission of the Torah and the Talmud–were they transmitted as a whole to Moses directly from God? Were they revealed progressively over many years and to future sages? Was it all man-made? Divinely inspired? Do we accept the absolute yoke of the commandments or do we accept the yoke of responsibility to try to live as good Jews with the mitzvot as a guide and our source? Do we accept the idea that fences should be built around and around these Torah laws and never taken away? Or do we acknowledge that so many of these laws were additions as reactions to the times and places in which the commentators lived?

I do not deny that the sages of the Talmud were great, beyond the scope of any ordinary scholar. However, I hold that they were still men of their times who faced challenges of faith and religion that were unique to them in some ways and universal in others, but that they were still citizens of a particular time and place. And as such were writing and responding in reference to that time and space. They did not exist in a vacuum and they were not prophets who could envision future times. They saw the world around them and they responded to it. And over the years more sages responded in light of their own time until we have this amazing conversation through the ages–a great one to be sure– but one that can, and must, continue today. I’m not saying that we add to the Talmud. I’m saying that Judaism has valued commentary that comes out of your particular moment in the past, so why should we abandon that today? Perhaps the early Reform movement responded too drastically to modernity, but they were responding and adapting just as our ancestors did in t he days after the destruction of the 2nd temple. It could be argued that the trauma of the Temple’s destruction could be paralleled with the trauma of escaping the ghetto and experiencing freedom for the first time in years. I say trauma because just as in the 1st century when our sages had to envision a Jewish world without the Temple and without sacrifice, envision ways to hold people in their faith, so too did our modern rabbis need to adapt our practices to help the non-ghettoized Jews remain connected to Judaism. And maybe some of their choices were overly dramatic, but as a movement and a people we are seeking a balance and a continued answer to modernity. We are not done with our conversation in the Reform movement. Just as the conversations of the Talmud last generations, so will ours.

Yosef Reinman states that the Reform movement that is “constantly defining and redefining itself, constantly interpreting and reinterpreting according to the dictates and demands of the people” (p. 69). I would argue that this is exactly what the rabbis of the Talmud did. They were constantly interpreting and reinterpreting Torah and midrash. Today we have thousands of years more of Jewish thought to draw on, but we are doing the same thing, and I believe it is just as legitimate. The Orthodox do not have a monopoly on holiness, on the mitzvot, on Torah, the Talmud, and other texts. I am just as free to study these and to make my decisions about what I feel commanded to observe. I have written a number of times about my views on autonomy and recently on my views of keva and kavanah. But what it comes down to is my belief that you must figure out your own observance for yourself. Be consistent with your process and serious with your efforts, but it is still a personal choice. In the end it is about God and trying to honor God and bring holiness into both your life and the entire world.