Post-Denominational Judaism?
by Rabbi Don Levy
I recently re-connected with an old friend on, yes I’ll admit it, Facebook. This friend is an accomplished musician who writes, performs and records wonderful songs on Jewish themes. At some point a few years ago, she became an Invested Cantor by apprenticing herself to a professional cantor and learning the ropes, then passing a comprehensive exam. When we reconnected, she told me she had more recently been ordained as a Rabbi through a program designed to help Cantors to further become ordained as Rabbis. I asked her if the program she’d gone through was independent, or sanctioned by one specific movement in Jewish life.
“It’s Post-Denominational,” she said, then proceeding to opine that Post-Denominationalism is the future of Jewish life.
I’d heard the term ‘Post-Denominationalism’ before. One particular rabbinic seminary in New York, with no specific movement affiliation, began describing itself as ‘Post-Denominational’ years ago, and I’ve read a number of breathy articles that asserted exactly what my friend had: that outside of Orthodoxy, most of the significant growth and energy in Jewish congregational life is today happening outside the conventional, strictly identified structures of Conservative, Reform, and Reconstructionist Judaism. But I never thought too deeply about the subject. On reflection, I was just too busy being…Post-Denominational.
The concept is a product of the new millennium. In the Jewish world of the USA, Reform grew into a powerhouse beginning in the late 19th century as a kind of antithesis to traditional Judaism (which, at that point in history, didn’t even use the descriptor ‘Orthodox’). To the proponents of Reform, traditional Judaism was seen as ‘rigid’ and out-of-synch with American life in general. Reform, in contrast, was seen by its proponents as ‘progressive,’ as having the flexibility to create a workable Jewish programme in a country where Jews who had immigrated from the lands of their birth had to find their own way ‘in the wilderness.’
Later, in the early 20th century, came the rise of Conservative Judaism, seen as splitting the difference between the Orthodox and Reform streams. It was more traditional in practice, and therefore easier for newer immigrants from the lands of Eastern Europe to adopt. For these immigrants, the Conservative path was seen as an antidote for Reform which seemed so non-traditional as to be inauthentic, yet also for Orthodox which was seen as being too burdensome for Jews trying to make their way in a land very different from their parents’.
Somewhat later came Reconstructionist Judaism, at first a splinter from Conservative but based on radical ideas that would ultimately put it to the left of Reform on many Jews’ continuum of tradition. It remains small to this day; I frequently meet Jews who have either never heard of it or who have heard of it, but don’t know what it is. Despite this, educated progressive Jews consider it important because its founder Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan, is considered by many one of the pre-eminent thinkers of 20th century American Judaism.
A generation ago, if one asked a Jew to ‘define’ their Jewish identity they would probably prefix ‘Jewish” with ‘Orthodox,’ ‘Reform,’ Conservative, ‘Reconstructionist,’ or some variation. Even if they had no particular affiliation, a Jew was likely to identify with one of the three major, well-defined, approaches of Judaism. Today however, many Jews – some 40 percent of Jews in the USA, the world’s largest Jewish population outside that of the State of Israel – when asked ‘what kind of Jew are you?’ would answer ‘just Jewish.’
This ‘Just Jewish’ label can mean a number of different things. For some, to be sure, it is a code-phrase for their rejection of any affiliation with organised Jewish religion. For them, to refer to themselves as ‘Just Jewish’ is certainly a way of saying ‘I’m Jewish, end of the story, now leave me alone.’ But for other Jews, the label ‘Just Jewish’ should not be construed as a rejection of organised Jewish life. Rather, it can be taken as a sentiment expressing a desire to transcend the limitation of a specific Jewish ‘label.’ It’s a statement that their Judaism, ultimately, cannot be placed neatly into a box, sealed and strictly defined by a word or a phrase.
Evidence abounds that such Post-denominationalism is the future of Judaism. Again in the USA where all diaspora Jewish trends start, there is significant growth in congregations that are not only unaffiliated with a major Jewish movement, but see that non-affiliation as a permanent part of their identity. To be sure, in some cases such congregations avoid affiliation to avoid having to pay significant dues to a national organisation. But in many cases, such congregations decide not to affiliate in order to remain dynamic in the way they conceive and practice Judaism in their group. Many of these independent congregations are large and healthy, and employ rabbis and other professional staff. They see the large Jewish movements as too strictly defining, or too political, or as unnecessarily bloated bureaucracies.
Then there are other groups; one might call them congregational alternatives. In the 1970’s there was a movement to create intimate mini-congregations, some of which even lived communally in co-housing, which were called ‘havurot’ But today’s small, do-it-yourself congregations are more likely to use the moniker, ‘minyan,’ meaning simply, a prayer-group because there is no intention to create an extended family or commune. Such groups are usually based on a core group of members who are Jewishly-educated and who have the requisite skills to conduct worship – Hebrew reading, singing, chanting Torah and haftarah – so that they do not need to grow and hire professional staff. In the past, such groups tended to be relatively short-lived, because whilst the core group are capable, others attracted to the concept are looking for a way to avoid synagogue subscription fees. Such Jewish ‘consumers’ tend to wear out the core members, who find themselves taxed to provide for them as rabbis, cantors, educators, and administrators do but without a professional salary for their efforts, whilst they still must earn a living and pay attention to their own families.
The Jewish movements, for their part, consider the post-denominational mindset to be a threat to their ‘market share.’ They want the strength that larger numbers of affiliated congregations bring by their contributions, financial and otherwise, to the larger movement. On the other hand, they sometimes find themselves in the pitfall of failing to see the larger picture, of wanting to preserve their denominational identity – and its trappings – without worrying nearly as much whether, as a result, more Jews’ needs are getting served.
I’ve never seen the various Jewish movements as being natural competitors. What I mean is that a particular Jew will affiliate Orthodox, Conservative, Reform or whatever based on their particular Jewish sensibilities. Oh, there is some overlap; there are, to be sure, some Jews who could probably see themselves as affiliating, say, Orthodox or Reform, based on qualities of the local congregations representing those streams of Judaism. These Jews will choose their congregation based on their preference of the comparative singing, teaching, social fabric, or the vibrancy of the different congregations in question. But this describes only a small number of Jews; most who would join an Orthodox congregation could not see themselves joining a Reform group and vice versa.
In this sense, Post-denominational Judaism poses a certain threat to the major movements and the congregations representing them. A non-affiliated congregation can define itself, can mould its rituals and its teachings to fit the sensibilities of its members.
In any you haven’t yet picked up on it, I find the post-denominationalism trend interesting and beneficial. Perhaps a little background information will explain why.
My own family background is in Conservative Judaism. But over more than a decade of serving in the US Navy, I didn’t worry about the denominational identity of the Jews with whom I sought fellowship. I knew I was not an Orthodox Jew, but I didn’t not have a strong attachment to the Conservative brand. In my late 20’s I met my first Reform Rabbi, and I found his approach to Jewish life and learning, refreshing. It was another Reform Rabbi who, several years later, influenced me to become a Rabbi. Because of this, I felt it was natural for me to attend Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion, the training seminary for Reform Rabbis. But I became a US Air Force Chaplain, where denominational identity is not important. During the 12 years that I served as an Air Force Chaplain, the fact that I was specifically a Reform Rabbi was tangential to my rabbinate. It was only later, when I worked as a congregational rabbi three years in Colorado and then two years in Queensland, that it mattered. Since then, I’ve been running Jewish Journeys, an unaffiliated Jewish outreach. For me, denominational identity whilst not meaningless, has hardly been important to my identity as a Jew. I don’t define myself as a ‘Reform Jew,’ not because I’m ashamed of the label but simply because I don’t think it fits.
In my own estimation, the vibrancy of Judaism outside the major movements is as positive for Judaism as are the conventional choices between Orthodox, Conservative and Reform. The majority of Jews today eschew affiliation altogether. For every Jew who does not affiliate, there is a different reason, or at least some days it seems so! But to be sure, many Jews avoid religious life because their own religious sensibilities cannot be captured by a two-word phrase. And at the same time, many of these Jews perceive – with more than a little accuracy – that the different movements and congregations can be more self-serving than seeing themselves as serving the needs of individual Jews. Because not all Jews can fit neatly into four, or five, or six neat little packages, the post-denominational phenomenon is something, about which to be excited.