I am on vacation–and predictably I am breaking my own rules. Oh, to be sure I slept a little later (7AM) and I had a massage before dinner last night. I sat outside on my deck, something I had dreamed of enjoying all summer, and ate my breakfast. And I read.
And that is why I am writing. I finished reading Rabbi Kerry Olitsky’s Playlist Judaism. I have heard him lecture before, most recently when he was at the Chicago Board of Rabbis. I own any number of his books including Preparing Your Heart for the High Holidays (which is probably the book that inspired me to write my own book!). Two of my congregants and I had a very enjoyable lunch with him in February when he was in Chicago. I have participated in two workshops that Big Tent Judaism has done–one on warm and welcoming congregations sponsored by JUF and one more recently on interfaith families. You might say I am a groupie!
So why did I decide I needed to write today? Because, even though there is little in the book I disagree with (if anything), there is much that is challenging. The book has nine chapters. In fact, the book is pretty short. But I think it is radical. It recognizes what I have been saying–that Judaism, particularly what I call American suburban Judaism, is experiencing a seismic shift. This is not your grandparents’ 1960s suburban synagogue. It can’t be. The world is fundamentally different. What isn’t clear is what will emerge in its place.
At first I saw a tension between what Olitzky says in this book and what Ron Wolfson says in Relational Judaism. Ironically Wolfson, who worked together with Olitzky in the Syngogue 2000 project, wrote the forward for this book. Olitzky says that Jews have gotten accustomed to picking in choosing what parts of the synagogue programming they want to buy. He uses Apple’s iTunes as the metaphor. We only need to buy the song we want, not the whole album. I think this was probably always true. Another generation might have called it, (especially on Christmas day) a Chinese menu. With six you get egg rolls. Wolfson talks about the idea that it is not individual programming that people want–they want a deepening of the relationship, with the community, with each other, with G-d. An I-Thou relationship.
On the surface that seems contradictory. But I think what it really is complimentary. People want to feel they belong. That they matter. That they count. They want to be listened to and they want to be heard. They want to know that others will be there with them to celebrate. And to mourn. They want to have meaning in their lives. They want to make the world a better place. These are all about being in a relationship. A deep, committed, caring relationship.
And yet we are a nation of rugged individualists. This is a term coined by Herbert Hoover during and about the Great Depression, but it remains true in a wider context. We want what we want when we want it and we don’t want to wait. That is back to our ability to instantly download a song and play it now. It is about how and where we experience spirituality. I am just as likely to have a powerful spiritual moment watching a Lake Michigan sunset and waiting for the green flash or a Cadillac Mountain sunrise than in the four walls of the synagogue I lead. I can have a spiritual moment by myself on a run or with a minyan. I don’t want to be fenced in. Neither do my congregants.
What is so important about Olitzky’s book is that not only does he lay out what I have been saying (and agreeing with) but he adds a section to the end of each chapter, thought questions and implications. These are where the wrestling begins. These are what will enable synagogues, my own I hope, to navigate the churning waters today.
Chapter One has a list of the 10 principles of Playlist Judaism. They are worth repeating here:
1. People want to control their own religious life.
2. The center of their Jewish life is built around them as individuals, rather than around an institution, especially a singular one.
3. There is no intrinsic value in membership.
4. People want to shape their own participation in religious life.
5. People want their Jewish life to be voluntary rather than obligatory.
6. Free does not imply that the object or service that is free has no value or investment. Instead, free access is a positive value.
7. People want to choose (and pay for) only those things that speak to them.
8. People do not want the things that meet their needs bundled with other things that they don’t think meet their needs and thereby are forced to buy the entire package.
9. Synagogues have to be flexible enough to welcome such personal choices and offer individuals a panoply of options to engage in Jewish life.
10. Options for participation must emerge from the interest of individuals rather than the needs of the synagogue so that individuals can freely create their own Playlist Judaism.
Wow!
Chapter Two talks about turning the synagogue inside out. In Elgin, there are people who do not know there is a synagogue here. Even though our synagogue just celebrated its 120th anniversary. Some of our leadership through the years were afraid to tell people we are there. For instance, there is no sign on the front of the building! Better not to rock the boat too much. And there are plenty of Jews who felt burned by previous synagogues, rabbis and leaders and do not want to be in the building–but want Judaism. My approach, long before reading this book, is to be “out there”: at coffee shops, on non-profit boards, writing articles, blogs, books, anything to make people aware that we are there, we are welcoming and accessible. I need to do more of it–particularly as Olitzky calls it, “Public Space Judaism.” That is why events like the I-Fest where we will exhibit our Congregation and play Israeli games as part of celebrating Elgin’s ethnic diversity are so important.
He talks about the market place of ideas. I remember a class I took with Rabbi David Gordis at Hebrew College on pluralism (yes, that was his word). He said that if Judaism is not meaningful, we should fold up our tents and go home. Judaism has to be more about meaning and less about obligation. As tragic as the Holocaust was, it is not enough to continue to be Jews in memory of the victims. That alone is not enough to sustain us. Judaism has to survive in the marketplace of ideas. In the 60s, Judaism lost many young people to eastern religions. They were looking for a deep sense of spirituality and they did not find it in their home synagogues. They found meditation and yoga and tai chi without realizing that some of those things exist within the 5000 year tradition we call Judaism. That is sad. Similarly, there are many people who have found Judaism appealing. Its theology, its philosophy, its moral values, its culture. There are many entry points to Judaism and yet we tend to push people away. Judaism has to be able to stand on its own in the market place of ideas. We need to warm and welcoming and encouraging of all who want to enter. We need to lower the barriers of entry–for Jew and non-Jew alike.
In our congregation we have a number of people who either have converted or would like to. Tradition dictates that you should refuse someone three times. Being a Jew, even in today’s world, carries with it risk. You must be sure that the person understands that risk and that the feelings to join are real. But once someone has converted, it is inappropriate to refer to him, to her as a convert. Once a Jew, you are a Jew. Sounds simple, no? The question continues to come up, who is a Jew? Will your conversion be recognized by Israel, by all rabbinic authorities, by individuals within your own community. This topic is anathema to me–and concerns me greatly–but is a subject for an entire blog.
It leads perfectly into his next chapter about intermarriage. I agree that this is an opportunity–not a disaster. We have to find ways to be more welcoming and accepting. Period. More on that one later too–except as many of you know I’ve been leading up to it. Think about Zipporah, Ruth, Maneshe.
At some point, Judaism became pediatric Judaism. Let’s educate the children even if we don’t know much ourselves. Let’s get them through Bar Mitzvah (or Confirmation). Even though I hated Hebrew School (I did not!), I expect my child too. But let’s show up for Purim, a child centered celebration. Olitzky is right–we cannot ignore the baby boomers (wait, I resemble that remark!). I was glad to participate in Me’ah at Hebrew College, a 100 (Me’ah) hours of serious adult Jewish learning. Limmud, NewCAJE, Elat Chayyim (Now at Isabella Friedman) have all provided ways for boomers through the years to engage deeply in Judaism on their terms. We need more, not less, depending on individual interest. Love hiking, try the Adventure Rabbi. Care passionately about environmental issues, check out Hazon or Ma’yan Tikvah. Want to feed the hungry–look at Mazon or Pushing the Envelope Farm. Care about women’s issues, try Women of the Wall. The list is limitless.
And then there is Israel. What can we say about Israel, especially this summer. Again, that could be an entire blog post or book. Me, I care passionately about Israel. And I worry about Israel. I worry about the friends that I have that live there. I worry about rockets and sirens. I worry about a nation that has never known peace. I worry and I hope. I pray for peace–every single day and I work for peace. I try to create an environment of, as Olitzky said, civil discourse. A place, that even if it is, and it is, polarized, it is still permissible to express your views in a safe, non-judgmental way. That requires patience. It is a balancing act. One that I am willing to risk–especially now. And still I dream. I dream of day when Israel can live with her neighbors in peace. When everyone can sit under their vine and fig tree and none shall make them afraid.
Ultimately Olitzky is right. He is asking the same question Rabbi Gordis asked in class. The same question that I decided to ask as the shell of my high holiday sermons. Why be Jewish? We are all Jews by choice. There is so much that competes for our attention in the marketplace of ideas. Why does this matter so much? What do we want to pass down to our children and grandchildren. Read the book.
Olitzky has a great model, that has yet to be fully proven. One question he leaves hanging becomes how do we pay for it. Congregations are wrestling with bold dues models. Some with success. Others, like the congregation in which I met my husband, never had high holiday tickets. My current one does not either but that is still a new experiment for them. It is working thus far. If I read the recently presented end of year numbers we took in more last year for High Holidays than we did when there were tickets. But it still feels risky and it still takes courage.
So what is on my dream list. Opportunities for people to engage deeply with Judaism, to wrestle with text, to celebrate together, to davven (pray) together, to hike together. To explore Judaism in a way that in non-judgmental. To meet people where they are. To build bridges between peoples.
To provide meaningful observance, opportunities for lifelong learning, embracing diversity and building community. Then we will have deepened relationships and engaged in Playlist Judaism–a big tent for all, open to all–young and old, born Jewish and not, handicapped, gay or straight, multi-racial, cultural, secular, religious. Maybe my president is right–we are all–Just Jews.
