I agree with Rabbi Hoffman that, in an open society, a sense of mitzvah cannot be a priori. It flows, as he put it, out of relationship. That has been my experience on my own religious journey, and the premise of my rabbinic work. The sense of shared responsibility that defines a spiritual community emerges out of the connection among searching individuals.
So, if Rabbi Hoffman and I agree that building true community means breaking with fee-for-service thinking in favor of something deeper, and we also agree on where that something deeper comes from – that it flows out of relationship – then what is this debate about?
I have to say that I am not sure. Rabbi Hoffman accuses me of having an “authority-centered” worldview that is all about obedience. It is hard to figure out why he would think so. Perhaps he is expressing visceral discomfort at my call for synagogues to build a culture of shared commitment and responsibility. When he writes about religious commitment, he tends to qualify the concept rather than celebrate it. Perhaps that need to qualify is the difference between us.
I recognize that words such as “commitment,” “responsibility,” and “mitzvah” can touch raw nerves and conjure up authoritarian associations. But reacting defensively to those words has its own costs. It limits our horizons, narrowing our range of options. For example, when presented with a promising congregational model, we may find ourselves unable to take yes for an answer.
If we cannot celebrate religious commitment, then we will have no way to reach those who have the greatest potential to revitalize non-Orthodox Judaism. Such Jews are looking for a way to speak the language of mitzvah. They have no intention of submitting to external authority. Obedience is not in their DNA. But the language of responsibility, of being needed – by each other, and by God – resonates deeply with them, and they are ready to make serious choices. If we speak only about personal freedom per se, and not about the joy of mitzvah that flows from the connections that we choose, then we will lose them.
Does Synagogue 3000 have a message for those Jews?
I appreciate Rabbi Brill taking the time to respond to my piece. It is true, as his title says, that “choice does not always mean consumer choice.” But it is Rabbi Brill, not I, who is guilty of conflating the two. He suggests that challenging the Starbucks model of religious life means calling for a return to the conformist 1950s – i.e. limiting choice. But surely one can criticize religious consumerism without opposing the idea of choice.
My point was not that spiritual options should be limited. My own shul represents an attempt to move beyond existing categories. Like other emergent communities, it represents an expansion, not a limitation, of choices. My point is that true spiritual community cannot be bought. It can, and in many cases must be chosen. But it requires a different kind of choice, deeper than the choice between a mocha and a caramel frappuccino.
Beyond Spiritual Consumerism. . . Or Not
October 29th, 2009 at 10:46 amI agree with Rabbi Hoffman that, in an open society, a sense of mitzvah cannot be a priori. It flows, as he put it, out of relationship. That has been my experience on my own religious journey, and the premise of my rabbinic work. The sense of shared responsibility that defines a spiritual community emerges out of the connection among searching individuals.
So, if Rabbi Hoffman and I agree that building true community means breaking with fee-for-service thinking in favor of something deeper, and we also agree on where that something deeper comes from – that it flows out of relationship – then what is this debate about?
I have to say that I am not sure. Rabbi Hoffman accuses me of having an “authority-centered” worldview that is all about obedience. It is hard to figure out why he would think so. Perhaps he is expressing visceral discomfort at my call for synagogues to build a culture of shared commitment and responsibility. When he writes about religious commitment, he tends to qualify the concept rather than celebrate it. Perhaps that need to qualify is the difference between us.
I recognize that words such as “commitment,” “responsibility,” and “mitzvah” can touch raw nerves and conjure up authoritarian associations. But reacting defensively to those words has its own costs. It limits our horizons, narrowing our range of options. For example, when presented with a promising congregational model, we may find ourselves unable to take yes for an answer.
If we cannot celebrate religious commitment, then we will have no way to reach those who have the greatest potential to revitalize non-Orthodox Judaism. Such Jews are looking for a way to speak the language of mitzvah. They have no intention of submitting to external authority. Obedience is not in their DNA. But the language of responsibility, of being needed – by each other, and by God – resonates deeply with them, and they are ready to make serious choices. If we speak only about personal freedom per se, and not about the joy of mitzvah that flows from the connections that we choose, then we will lose them.
Does Synagogue 3000 have a message for those Jews?
Beyond Spiritual Consumerism. . . Or Not
October 6th, 2009 at 5:29 pmI appreciate Rabbi Brill taking the time to respond to my piece. It is true, as his title says, that “choice does not always mean consumer choice.” But it is Rabbi Brill, not I, who is guilty of conflating the two. He suggests that challenging the Starbucks model of religious life means calling for a return to the conformist 1950s – i.e. limiting choice. But surely one can criticize religious consumerism without opposing the idea of choice.
My point was not that spiritual options should be limited. My own shul represents an attempt to move beyond existing categories. Like other emergent communities, it represents an expansion, not a limitation, of choices. My point is that true spiritual community cannot be bought. It can, and in many cases must be chosen. But it requires a different kind of choice, deeper than the choice between a mocha and a caramel frappuccino.