on "chinese-menu judaism"

[balmofgilead]

This is for my reference. I found this article awhile ago and then I couldn't find it again, so I've eliminated such issues by pasting it in here! But in case anyone's interested...




He even uses the words "sovereign" and "chinese-menu Judaism." And secular humanism, and not allowing guilt to be a major factor in things. That's what made me interested.

In re-reading this quickly, the best I can conclude is that I disagree with him because I'm a person first, I'm into and for successful personhood (for myself and others), not religion. Personhood might include religion, or parts of religion, or borrow some things from various religions, but personhood itself is the main dish. I don't live to perpetuate a religion. (I might say that I live to perpetuate humanity, but I haven't thought that through all the way.)

(from http://www.societyhillsynagogue.org/shskeshjune02.html)

FROM THE RABBI...
Avi Winokur

"It's like trying to fit a round peg in a square hole." That saying aptly describes what we mean when we are speaking of two incompatible things, like the 76ers and a high three-point shooting percentage. One with a similar meaning is: "They're like oil and water." We could describe Iverson and Larry Brown that way, and certainly we could describe Sharon and Arafat that way.

This is the first of two or three messages that could read something like: "To be an American and a Jew, or an American Jew, is that like trying to fit a round peg in a square hole?" Alternatively it could be entitled: "Judaism and Americanism? Can they mix or are they oil and water?"

This may seem like an odd topic. After all, there is clearly an American Judaism. In fact, even with all the hand wringing over assimilation, it may be argued that the American Jewish community is one of the strongest in history, not only from a political or socioeconomic point of view, but also if measured against traditional Jewish criteria. Still, the topic is not at all odd. In fact, the argument may be made that, at their very core,Judaism and Americanism may be a difficult fit at best.

A little over a year ago, two of the most astute observers of the American Jewish scene, Steven M. Cohen of Hebrew University and Arnold M. Eisen of Stanford University (ne Philadelphia) published a book entitled The Jew Within: Self, Family and Community in America, Indiana University Press (2000). The book is in some ways (for those of you who care about these things) a Jewish version and extension of Robert N. Bellah et.al.'s Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life, University of California Press (1985, 1996).

Cohen and Eisen studied a particular group of Jews, the "moderately affiliated" who account for the bulk of the Jewish population, or about 60%. They studied baby-boomers (then aged 36 to 54), the most significant demographic group (and coincidentally, both Cohen and Eisen are baby boomers close to my age). It is these Jews, they argue, who must be the target group for Jewish communal outreach policy. The core group doesn't need it, and it is not cost-effective to put our resources into wooing the utterly unaffiliated. Through a combination of in-depth interviews and questionnaires Cohen and Eisen were able to put together a profile of the American Jew.

The New American Jew (NAJ) does not affiliate because of institutional loyalty, whether it is to a denomination or to something like Hadassah or B'nai Brith, nor do they affiliate out of loyalty to Israel, the shadow of the Holocaust or anxiety about anti-Semitism. "Nor do they manifest any sort of traditional religious commitment. We rarely met individuals who said they came to Jewish commitment (parenthetical omitted) because of particular beliefs in God or revelation or the chosenness of Israel. Nor did we meet many individuals who expressed their Jewish commitment primarily by performing a fixed set of behaviors."

Cohen and Eisen call this NAJ "the Sovereign Jewish Self." This NAJ, they argue, is very different from their parents, even when their parents were born in this country and are native English speakers. Through their study, Cohen and Eisen were able to isolate several characteristics that describe the NAJ. If we were to summarize these findings in a nut shell it would be this:Judaism is becoming privatized, as is all American religion.

1) Personalist: Personal meaning is the "arbiter" of the NAJ's Jewish involvement. Their Judaism "is focused on the self and its fulfillment rather than directed outward toward the group." Loyalties tend to be highly localized: the self, then the family, then the local community (synagogues, local federations), then any larger group (Anti-Defamation League, Hadassah, Israel, a denomination). The NAJ observes those traditions and practices that are personally meaningful.

2) Non-judgmentalism: "Each person interacts with Judaism in ways that suit him or her. No one is capable of determining for others what constitutes a good Jew." The NAJ and his parents may both practice a "pick-and-choose" or "Chinese menu"Judaism. However, to the NAJ, this is the natural way one practices Judaism . Parents, on the other hand, knew there were things that "good Jews did" that they themselves may not have always done, and they therefore, often felt guilty. Guilt is not a major factor in the NAJ's psyche.

3) Jewish meaning is personally constructed: Not only is meaning the arbiter of Jewish involvement, but the source of meaning is often personally constructed. "They feel free to borrow selectively, and perhaps only temporarily, from traditional Jewish religious and cultural sources. They also–routinely and without embarrassment–combine these Jewish elements with others drawn from the larger cultural milieu, including non-Jewish religious or spiritual traditions."

4) Spirituality, yes; organized religion, no: This goes along with a trend toward the privatization of religion. Post-modern theorists partially explain this as a shift in consciousness from the "grand narrative" (in this case, the exalted story of Jewish peoplehood and destiny) to the "local narratives" and "personal stories" of family and self. Most of us know (and many of us are) people who say, "I'm into spirituality, but not organized religion." Many Americans brought up in main-stream religious paths have abandoned them, at least temporarily, to explore more exotic spiritual paths, whether they be Eastern (Zen, Buddhism), more intense versions of their mother religions (the phenomena of the born-again Christian and the Jewish ba'ali tshuva/newly traditional) or even more exotic Native American and New Age practices.

5) The Journey: For the NAJ, Judaism is an exploration, and one's Jewishness may change at any moment. One may go to Jerusalem and become a "born again" Jew, studying in a Yeshiva and proclaiming one's Orthodoxy one year, return to America and become a Reconstructionist Jew, try out Buddhism next, return to Orthodoxy for a while, raise one's children Conservative, drop out altogether and later become the president of a Reform synagogue.

6) Permeable boundaries between one's Jewish and non-Jewish worlds: As Cohen and Eisen indicate, "Fully two-thirds of our survey participants agreed that `my being Jewish doesn't make any different from other American.' Intermarriage, interdating, and close friendships with non-Jews have left their mark. The self is more and more composed of multiple parts. One does not demand they hang together neatly, need not for example sacrifice particularity in the name of co-existence with the otherness in one's home or one's self. Jews rather seem content with a piecemeal approach to selfhood as life: an interior `bricolage' to match the cultural diversity of the surroundings."

Many of you may react to this description of the NAJ with a shrug of the shoulders, "Yeah, so what else is new and what's the big deal?" If so, it is likely that you are an NAJ. Others of you may find your anxiety level on the rise, skeptical either of the description itself (it's not really accurate) or skeptical about the future of American Jewry.

If so, you either are probably not an NAJ, or are on a more involved end of the NAJ spectrum.

My suspicion is that Cohen/Eisen NAJ accurately describe a great number of American Jews, and that this is deeply problematic for Judaism . Why is it problematic? To go back to our initial images: If this portrayal of American Jews is the square peg/water, then next month I will describe the round hole/oil that is Judaism.

And the second installment...
(http://www.societyhillsynagogue.org/shskeshjuly02.html )

FROM THE RABBI...
Avi Winokur

TOWARDS AN ECOLOGY OF JUDAISM

In last month's Kesher I stated that to be an American Jew or a Jewish American may be an oxymoron—that at their essences Judaism and Americanism may be incompatible—an observation some would say is at odds with the fact that Judaism is flourishing in America. Last month I described the NAJ, the New American Jew, described by Steven M. Cohen and Arnold M. Eisen in their recently published book, The Jew Within: Self, Family and Community in America. This month I reflect on Judaism, looking at it from an ecological or systemic perspective.

About twenty years ago I read an article in The Inner City Express, a weekly that served the Berkeley-Oakland area. The article describes the fight of a young Yuppie jogger to keep the U.C. Berkeley campus from cutting down some beautiful eucalyptus trees that lined a fire trail on which she jogged and replace them with less attractive low lying shrubs that provide no shade. My sympathies were with the lone crusader against the big institution as I began the article. Once again, big business was running roughshod over the environment. Also, I love eucalyptus trees.

They lined many of the streets where I grew up. But as I continued to read, it turned out the issues were not as simple as I had thought. Eucalyptus trees are not native to Berkeley. They are imports (from Australia—think Koalas). They are also highly flammable, whereas the low-lying shrubs that were to replace them were native to the area and contained some sort of fire retardant qualities.

I think about this article in relation to Judaism. There is an ecology of Judaism, and it may be that some of the more attractive and interesting imports may not always be healthy for that ecology. This ecology of Judaism is not something that I control. When I think about Juda-ism ecologically or systemically, as an ecosystem, I am forced to conclude that some of those things that I value most in Judaism are not nearly as important to the health of the ecosystem as things that I value less.

Despite liberal Americans' romance with ecology, thinking ecologically about Judaism is utterly alien to the NAJ. The NAJ asks, "What is attractive to me about Judaism? What Jewish values and traditions are most meaningful to me? How can I make Judaism meaningful to me?" The ecological question is quite different. What ingredients are essential for a healthy Judaism? That is the ecological question. That is, I don't ask of a particular eco-system, what are its most attractive features to me, or what would I like to see there (e.g., like a beautiful redwood house right on the Big Sur beach . . . but what if everyone else did the same thing?). The ecologically conscious question is, what is healthiest for the particular eco-system?

Of what does this ecology of Judaism consist? In my opinion it consists of Hebrew, Torah study, Shabbat, the Jewish calendar, God, public prayer and perhaps most importantly mitzvot. Conspicuous by its absence from this list is Tikkun Olam/social action—something in which I passionately believe. Needless to say that does not mean that we should not engage in Tikkun Olam. Of course we should. Nor does it imply that it is a secondary value in my life. It is not. But Judaism is likely to survive longer and more vigorously in the absence of Tikkun Olam than it is in the absence of Hebrew. That does not square with my values, yet I am convinced that it is true.

Hebrew: The more English a service has, the less effective it is as a general rule. Clearly this makes no sense. It would make more sense that prayer in the vernacular is more effective than prayer in a language that we don't understand. Are there exceptions? Of course. Many exceptions? Of course. Still, the observation stands. After decades of battling against the centrality of Hebrew in worship services here and in Europe, the Reform movement has come to the same conclusion. I like Hebrew, but I do not value it as I value Tikkun Olam. Yet it is clear to me that Hebrew literacy is far more important for the long term survival of Judaism than Tikkun Olam.

In Manhattan, the synagogue that regularly gets 2,000 people each week for Kabbalat Shabbat services (including many 20 and 30 somethings) is an independent Conservative synagogue (sound familiar?) that uses far more Hebrew and far less English than our services here. The attendees are no more conversant with Hebrew than those who attend our synagogue. This reflects the general trend. More Hebrew, more attendance, less Hebrew, less attendance. Counterintuitive? Perhaps. True? Without a doubt.

Torah study: The more a community studies classic Jewish sources the more likely they are to visit the sick, show up at shiva minyanim, and invite newcomers to lunch on Shabbat than if they study modern and contemporary Jewish literature—the more at home they are likely to feel in their Judaism. Can I prove this? No, but I trust my observations. My observation is that a Talmud-studying community is more likely than a Nathan Englander-studying community to be more internally cohesive—an ecological strength. To substitute Nathan Englander for Talmud and Saul Bellow for Torah is to plant eucalyptus where fire retardant shrubs are needed. Consequently, classic Jewish studies should routinely trump contemporary subjects in synagogue adult education programs.

Shabbat: It would be so much more convenient to move it to Sunday, and make it less ritualistic, a little closer to Protestant-style Judaism. It's been tried. It doesn't work. Communities that are weak Shabbat observers are generally weaker in other areas as well. Ask anyone who has experienced a heavy-duty Shabbat community (it does not have to be Orthodox, by any means) and a light one. Ninety percent of them will agree with this observation.

The Jewish calendar: A community that gets a decent turnout for Shavuot is more likely to be a strong community than one that does not.

God: Prior to the Enlightenment there was little secular Judaism to speak of. Yes, there was secular Jewish poetry during the Golden Age of Spain, and that poetry is anything but an insignificant blip in the history of Jewish literary output. It is however, the exception. Since the enlightenment, secular Jewish movements have exploded: Zionism, Jewish labor movements, Yiddishism/Hebraism/Haskalah. They have all faded. Of course movements come and go. But other significant secular Jewish movements have not replaced these 1850 to 1950 movements, unless one wants to claim that the burgeoning interest in Klezmer music is a harbinger of a significant secular Jewish cultural revival. I think not. Indeed, in Israel today, most thoughtful secular Israelis will tell you that they are not really sure of what their Jewish identity consists. On the other hand there has been plethora of religious movements that have come and gone and continue to come and go even today—from New Age/Renewal to Ultra Orthodox/H.asidic. In Judaism, God has staying power. Secular humanism does not.

Does that mean that one cannot be a good Jew and a secular humanist? Of course not. Many a Jewish atheist has furthered the cause of Judaism, and many a believer has been an embarrassment to Judaism. Still, a secular humanist identity does not seem to transmit over time as well as a God-centered identity.

Public Prayer: Certain critical prayers require a minyan, 10 adult Jews, according to Jewish tradition. Though the ancient rabbis did not have the benefit of modern social sciences, they intuited what we know: that in the absence of community-binding primary activities, Judaism could not survive. Should the synagogue die, Judaism will not be far behind. Jewish book clubs, Jewish theatre groups, Jewish social activism will not keep Judaism going in the absence of Jews coming to synagogue to worship. Jews coming to synagogue to worship will keep Judaism going in the absence of the other activities.

Mitzvot: Obligation/heteronomy is deeply Jewish, far more so than autonomy/individualism, the hallmark of Americanism. By Mitzvah I do not mean a good deed. I mean an obligation imposed by our tradition. The clash between these approaches to life is a clash at the most fundamental of levels. But surely, the growth of liberal Judaism calls into question any gross overgeneralization concerning the centrality or essentiality of obligation to a healthy Jewish eco-system.

I think not.

In a society, like America, that places paramount value on autonomy, individual choice, and freedom of conscience, the failure to fashion a Judaism that likewise prizes these values would have been tantamount to suicide. All strong eco-systems adapt. Indeed, until about a quarter century ago, the continuing Americanization of Judaism was assumed as both necessary and good. In the past twenty-five years, this trend has been called into question for a number of reasons: first, Orthodoxy, which was supposed to fade and die, not only refused to do so, but is now stronger than it has ever been in America; second, Reform Judaism has concluded that its strongest communities are those that are returning to tradition; third, the failure of secular Judaism to renew itself through the creation of major cultural or intellectual traditions embodied in Jewish institutions with staying power; fourth, the general disillusionment with progressive values that assumed as bedrock truth the superiority of individual conscience over imposed obligation. In other words, it seems as if liberal Judaism has reached the limits or perhaps even exceeded the limits of its ability to adapt Americanism to Judaism.

A return to obligation/commandment poses a tremendous challenge to liberal Judaism. It is so at odds with what has been called our "primary language of individualism." It is anathema to the NAJ. Yet among Reconstructionist and Reform leaders, the issue of how to sell a return to a Judaism of obligation/mitzvot to their "do-your-own-thing" constituencies is widely discussed—something that was unheard of a quarter century ago. Likewise Conservative Judaism, which downplayed its adherence to Jewish law, substituting the term "tradition" for "law" has begun to reemphasize the place of H.alakha/Jewish law in its ideology.

In addition to the conspicuous absence of Tikkun Olam from this list, absent also is the study of history, sociology etc. I value these disciplines, but many, including me, have overrated their ecological importance for Judaism. I'm in good company. Mordecai Kaplan also attached a great deal of importance to the social scientific study of religion. But in the final analysis, the study of Judaism is less important to the health of Judaism than whether Jews can negotiate Hebrew prayers or go to Torah study.

Indeed the premier Jewish historian of our time, Y.H. Yerushalmi implies that the study of Jewish history is a sign of the decay of Jewish life. Yerushalmi notes that the enterprise of Jewish historiography is a relatively recent invention, and until recently, surprisingly unsophisticated, in comparison to non-Jewish historiography. He then writes: "The modern effort to reconstruct the Jewish past begins at a time that witnesses a sharp break in the continuity of Jewish living and hence also an ever-growing decay of Jewish group memory. In this sense, if for no other, history becomes what it had never been before—the faith of the fallen Jew." This conclusion flies in the face of my own values. Still, I believe it to be a correct conclusion.

It is a sobering exercise to ask the ecological question of Judaism. Perhaps, the question is a paraphrase of John F. Kennedy's famous question, "Ask not what Judaism can do for me, but what I can do for Judaism." Try it. It's quite a challenging change in perspective.