Second Day Rosh Hashanah, 5786
What does it mean to be a “c” conservative Synagogue?
Rabbi Robert L Tobin, Bnai Shalom, West Orange NJ
L’Shana Tova.
I knew a man once who, before putting on his tallit and tefillin, would take out his siddur, his prayer book. This was no ordinary siddur. Its cover was frayed, and its pages were soft and brittle from a lifetime of turning. I spoke with him about the possible need to put the book in genizah, and find a new siddur. So he told me why the book was so important.
For generations, this book had been passed down in his family. Its pages were filled with notes, small, handwritten comments in faded ink, written by his grandfather and his great-grandfather. “Remember to focus on this blessing,” one note might say. “This prayer helped me when I was struggling,” another might offer. The pages looked like a miniature version of a page from the Talmud: the core text in the center, and the personal, deeply felt commentaries filling the space around it.
His grandfather, a thoughtful man, had filled its pages with his own insights and struggles. And when he passed it down he said, “This is not just a book of words. It is a record of our family's conversation with God. Your job is to continue the conversation. Add your own notes. Grapple with the words. Make it your own.” No, that book should definitely not be in the genizah.
That siddur is a tangible link to a chain of tradition that went back generations. Its value was not in its official printing, but in the personal, living wisdom that had been added to its pages. It was a witness to the idea that our faith is not a static document, but a vibrant, ongoing conversation.
For as long as I have been your rabbi, and for a lifetime before, this synagogue has been a beacon of Conservative Judaism, with a Captial “C.” We have been a proud member of a movement, the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, that has defined our Jewish lives, a movement that taught us to honor tradition while embracing the modern world. We have been a part of a beautiful, messy, and deeply meaningful family.
But the reality of our congregation has changed. The financial commitments required of us, year after year, in order to remain formally in the movement have become a significant burden. We’ve managed it for years, but now, a decision has become unavoidable. Over the past 5 years or more we have diminished our offerings to the USCJ, and they have cashed the checks under protest. We have trended down, and they have held fast. As a result, I am here today to announce that we will likely be de-affiliated from the formal United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism this year, after many years of trying, for financial reasons. Our lay leadership feels that we simply can’t justify the allocation in light of the cuts that we have already had to make and anticipate making in the future.
So let’s be absolutely clear: this is a change in our corporate structure, not in our communal soul or religious beliefs. Our commitment to the values, principles, and spirit of Conservative Judaism is not changing. Our mission is not changing. We are simply continuing the path that we have been on for several years, and accepting the inevitable consequence of those decisions. We will continue to live the essence of what it means to be a Conservative Jew and carry it forward, not because a central body approves it, but because our hearts and minds require it.
For me, I will always be a Conservative Rabbi. Not only because I am a member of the Rabbinical Assembly of America, but much more because of my training at JTS and my world view.
You may know the old joke about the three major Jewish denominations in America: that the Orthodox are “crazy”, the Reform are “lazy” and the Conservative are “hazy.” Crazy, Lazy and Hazy don’t accurately describe any of them, but the poke at the Conservative movement for being hazy has a touch of truth about it. Because we have been defined by a process of change more than a milepost to defend, it may be difficult to define what we believe. Certainly it is harder than a movement that is preaching Moshiach as their core identity.
So I am going to dust off an old document, commissioned by the movement in 1985 - the year the first woman was ordained at JTS - and published 3 years later in 1988, called Emet ve'emunah, “Truth and Faith,” the Statement of Principles of Conservative Judaism. I want to ground our conversation today in this document, not as a dry theological text, but as a living, breathing guide for our community. Because in its pages, we find the true essence of what it means to be this synagogue.
The Core Principles of Our Faith
Introduce Robert Gordis, Conservative Judaism, an American Philosophy; Neil Gillman, Conservative Judaism; and, 100 Years of the Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly.
The first principle of Emet ve'emunah is belief in God and revelation. The document affirms a monotheistic God and God’s revelation of Torah, while at the same time allowing for a variety of intellectual interpretations. This is our foundation. It's why we gather here every week, why we open our hearts in prayer, and why we listen for God’s voice in our lives.
This principle has always been the genius of our approach. Our tradition is not a single, monolithic pillar, but a vibrant, living library. Think of a page of Talmud. The central text is surrounded by the commentaries of Rashi and Tosafot—the core tradition, the layers of ancient wisdom that have been added over time. We don't discard the central text, and we don't ignore the commentaries that came before us. We see our task as adding the next generation's insights to the margins. We teach our children that the Torah is God’s word, but we also teach them to ask questions, to grapple with the text, and to find their own meaning in its lessons.
I remember a few years ago, a young student in our Hebrew school came up to me and asked, "Rabbi, if God made everything, who made God?" I could have given a simple, pat answer. But that’s not who we are. I told him, "That is one of the most important questions a person can ask. It’s a question that has been asked by rabbis and philosophers for thousands of years. Let's study it together." That is what this principle means. We don’t demand blind faith; we celebrate an inquisitive faith. We don’t ask you to leave your mind at the door. We ask you to bring your full self—your doubts, your questions, your intellect—and add your commentary to the sacred text. And yet, there also are clear answers that we come to understand better for having gotten to them eventually, rather than directly.
The next principle is our commitment to the Jewish People (Klal Yisrael) and Zionism. Emet ve'emunah emphasizes the unity of the Jewish people and our unique covenantal relationship with God. It affirms our deep connection to the State of Israel. Our commitment to the Jewish people is not bound by a membership fee. Our belief in Klal Yisrael, the idea that all Jews are responsible for one another, is a core value, not a bureaucratic one.
I think about the relationships we have formed with the other shuls in this town, and in the neighboring towns. We didn't do it because our movements told us to, and we didn’t avoid the ones that were different from us. We did it because we are neighbors. We did it because we are family. We put aside our differences in ritual practice and theological understanding, because we are all part of one family. And we are able to get along so nicely precisely because we have our different houses to pray in in different ways. We need each of them and the community needs us.
And our deep, passionate connection to Israel is not changing either. I'll never forget a night we gathered here two years ago on Chanukah for a vigil on the front lawn We didn't agree on every aspect of Israeli policy, but we were united in our concern and love for the people of Israel and the fate of the hostages. I looked out and saw a tent large enough for both love and critique. Our children will still learn Hebrew and Jewish history as part of a global, united people. We will be a place where conversations about Israel and Zionism are honest, passionate, and rooted in love for our people, even when we disagree. This is a difficult path, but it is the righteous path, and it is the path we will continue to walk, proudly and independently.
The third principle is Halakhah, Jewish Law. Emet ve'emunah asserts that halakhah is normative and binding, but also a developing system. This is the very core of our identity, the intellectual and spiritual discipline that sets us apart. We are not Orthodox, because we believe that Jewish law can and must evolve to meet the needs of a living people and that it always has. We believe that Maimonides was a Conservative Jew. Not so sure about Rashi most of the time, but hey. But we are not Reform, because we believe that the wisdom of our tradition and the structure of halakhah are the necessary guideposts for our lives.
Think about the journey we have been on. I want to take a moment and reflect on a pivotal time for this community. It wasn’t that long ago, when our synagogue made the decision to count women in the minyan and to offer women the opportunity to be called to the Torah. I was not your rabbi then, but I have heard the stories. There were passionate, deeply held disagreements. Some people left the congregation. There were concerns that we were abandoning tradition. But the majority held firm. They were guided by the scholarship that demonstrated that this was not a rejection of halakhah, but an evolution of it, rooted in the values of equality and inclusion. I have heard people talk about the goosebumps they felt the first time a woman chanted from the Torah in this room. That was an act of faith. It was a halakhic decision that changed the very fabric of our synagogue. It was a change that honored our tradition by making it more vital and inclusive.
More recently, we have opened our doors to the full participation of interfaith couples in the life of the synagogue. This wasn't a rejection of tradition; it was an act of faith, a recognition that the Jewish future depends on welcoming families where they are, guided by the principles of kiruv (bringing close) and love. Our decisions, then and now, have always been about being true to who we are, not because of a mandate from above, but because of a moral conviction from within.
Moving forward, I remain the mara d’atra - the sole halakhic decision maker for the congregation. Yet I have always invited our ritual committee to study the latest responsa on Jewish law, as the need arises. We are not breaking from our standards. We’ll still count women in our minyan. Just as we explored the application of halakhah to issues like technology on Shabbat, the status of a bat kohen or bat levi, or the use of cannabis for medical and non-medical purposes, we will continue to treat halakhah not as a static, rigid code, but as a living, breathing guide for our lives, adding our own generation's commentary to the sacred pages.
And what about Social Justice? The principles of Emet ve'emunah highlight the Torah's call for a moral commitment to social justice. This commitment is a moral imperative, not a political one.
Finally, the document values the sanctity of the home and family. The truth is, the synagogue can't be the only place where Judaism happens. The strength of our community is built one Jewish home at a time. I remember a family who, after a year in our Hebrew school, told me that for the first time, they were lighting Shabbat candles and blessing their children on Friday nights. They told me it was the single most meaningful change in their family life. Our Hebrew school and our adult education programs will continue to be the heart of our community. We will still encourage families to light Shabbat candles, to make a Seder at home, and to put up a mezuzah on their doors. We will invest even more in programming that supports Jewish families, from b’nai mitzvah preparation to parenting classes, because we know that the strength of our community is built one Jewish home at a time.
Looking to the Future: The Challenges and the Promises
So, what does this new reality look like? I see three potential traps that we must avoid.
First, the Financial Trap. The temptation will be to cut corners. To say, "Now that we don't have to pay dues to the movement, we can do things on the cheap." This would be a profound mistake. Our commitment to high-quality education, beautiful tefillah, and engaging programming must remain unwavering. I want to express our profound gratitude to the many families who have contributed so generously to our annual campaign and to the new chapel. Your generosity has ensured that we will be able to cover anticipated budget deficits for the next five years, assuming with God’s help, we continue on track as we have. You have literally ensured our future. That is an act of faith, and it is an act we must all continue to participate in. We must be fiscally responsible, but never at the expense of our soul.
Next, the Membership Trap. Without the formal movement to bind us, we might be tempted to become insular. To cater only to ourselves. We must resist this. Our core value of Klal Yisrael—of being part of the broader Jewish people—must be our constant goal. We must find ways to connect with other shuls and organizations, to maintain our strong ties with the other Conservative shuls, to support Israel, and to engage with the wider Jewish world. We are not an island. We will continue to make a point to host joint events with our local partners in the coming year.
And finally, the Leadership Trap. As many of you know, I won't be here forever. This is not a conversation for a long time from now, but it's one we will start thinking about in the next few years, looking forward. It is well known that my current contract runs through June of 2031, and then, who knows? When it is time for me to retire, you will face a critical challenge: how do you find a new Rabbi? There will be those who say, "We can hire anyone now." They will be wrong. When you hire a plumber, you want to hire someone who has been trained in the craft, someone who understands the system and the code. When you hire a rabbi, you need someone who understands our values, who is committed to halakhah and its evolution, and who can lead a community that is deeply rooted in the Conservative spirit. They must be someone who studied at a place like the Jewish Theological Seminary, and not just someone who found a way to slap the word Rabbi on top of their resume as so many are able to do in the internet world today. Someone who has been shaped by the intellectual and spiritual discipline of this movement. Our continued identity will depend on your continued commitment to find a leaders who is, in essence, a Conservative Rabbi, regardless of our affiliation status. That should mean, a member of The Rabbinical Assembly. The RA is not a business card; it is a seal of quality. It is a sign that a person understands the unique balance of tradition and change that has defined our Jewish lives.
And the same is true of the community’s leadership. To be a Conservative Jew is a point of pride. A principalled and important decision in one’s religious, familial and communal life. It is an acceptance that things change, yet most things remain unchanged and both for good reason. It is the understanding that when change happens, it is in order to live the true teaching and value that the original customs also believed in. Women are rabbis now to teach talmud in a new voice, but not to teach a new talmud. Our services offer inclusion to mixed families, not new rituals. We adapt in order to preserve, or as the founders of the movement would say, in order to Conserve Judaism. Our volunteer leaders need to be role models for our practices and standards in every way possible to inspire our congregation and to prove that Judaism is not just what the Rabbi says, but what the people do.
Conclusion
So, let's bring it all back to that siddur in my opening story. Its value was not in its official binding, but in the wisdom and effort of those who used it, who added their own commentary and insights to its pages. Our de-affiliation is a financial necessity, but our values remain the same. Our commitments to God, our people, and our unique approach to halakhah are what truly define us. We have been shaped by the Conservative movement, and we will carry its best parts with us into the future. We are no longer defined by a label on our website, but by our beliefs and our actions.
This is not a time to be afraid nor to forecast doom for our future. This is a time to be courageous and proud of being a Conservative Jew. A time to take ownership of our identity. We are the keepers of this legacy now, not because we belong to a formal group, but because we believe in it with our whole hearts. We are the ones who will continue to add our own sacred scribbles in the margins of the eternal conversations of our people.
May we go from strength to strength. L’Shana Tova.
No comments:
Post a Comment