In this entry I have no intention to discuss the history of Reform Judaism. Furthermore, I am not interested in the details that distinguish the narrowly defined “Reform Judaism” from “Conservative Judaism,” and all other specific forms of non-Orthodox Judaism. To me, here, Reform means a philosophical rejection of the traditional self-segregating Jewish religious and social orthodoxy, maintaining a wall against the inroads of the outside Gentile world, and effectively preventing observant Jews from an active participation in the lives of the nations among whom they sojourn as a result of the Jewish Diaspora.
Thus, “Reform” becomes to me a collective expression of the whole line of Jewish thought that opposes the social self-imposed restrictions of Jewish Orthodoxy, particularly strict observance of Shabbat and Kashrut, as well as many other rules of social conduct imposed by the Jewish Law. It is mostly in this sense that I am using the term “Reform” in this entry.
The philosophical question now is whether this “Reform” thing is positive or negative? After all, it does not fit the basic distinction between assimilationist and dissimilationist ethnic Jews. The assimilationists hardly need Judaism, traditional or “reformed.” But those who want to fit in the Gentile-majority world without the unpleasant split with their Jewish roots, do!
In this sense, I see “Reform Judaism” as a positive thing. No one striving to liberate himself from a severely limiting restriction of his roots, yet unwilling to renounce these roots altogether, can be condemned for such a desire. No one striving to integrate into the host culture, without cutting off his ties to his native culture, is to be reproached. Philosophically, a man does not have to be an extremist. I see “Reform Judaism” as such an attempt to be free from the necessity of choosing between the extremes.
Yet “Reform Judaism” is a compromise. An understandable compromise, a positive compromise, but still a compromise between two different worlds, two different cultures. All cultural symbiosis is a compromise of sorts, and Reform Judaism is no exception. Interfaith marriages give a good illustration of this. If one wishes to adhere to two different and frankly incompatible religions, to belong to two different cultures, to observe two different traditions, one ends up with none. Or, rather, one ends up with an artificial semblance of a new type of culture, superficial and not serious enough to be accepted as a bona fide culture. With all my respect for Moses Mendelssohn, and he was the best among the Maskilim, it was hardly a coincidence that his son converted to Christianity, apparently unable to maintain the balance between the two worlds. His father had been a philosopher, a loner, whose balance had been sustained by a deliberate intellectual effort and a sense of mission, whereas Abraham Mendelssohn had no such determination.
By the same token, so many non-Orthodox and non-religious Jews today are feeling the urge to attend Yom Kippur religious services at a shabby Ultra-Orthodox shul, rather than at a resplendent Reform Temple with some very well dressed and pleasantly smelling fellow Maskilim who do not segregate men and women and, generally and aesthetically, offer a far superior and thoroughly civilized substitute for the real thing.
Such is my attitude to Reform Judaism. I have little love for compromises, even if I like “Reform” Jewish music and consider Reform religious service perhaps the most aesthetically pleasing, albeit the least religious, of all religious services of today.
Thus, “Reform” becomes to me a collective expression of the whole line of Jewish thought that opposes the social self-imposed restrictions of Jewish Orthodoxy, particularly strict observance of Shabbat and Kashrut, as well as many other rules of social conduct imposed by the Jewish Law. It is mostly in this sense that I am using the term “Reform” in this entry.
The philosophical question now is whether this “Reform” thing is positive or negative? After all, it does not fit the basic distinction between assimilationist and dissimilationist ethnic Jews. The assimilationists hardly need Judaism, traditional or “reformed.” But those who want to fit in the Gentile-majority world without the unpleasant split with their Jewish roots, do!
In this sense, I see “Reform Judaism” as a positive thing. No one striving to liberate himself from a severely limiting restriction of his roots, yet unwilling to renounce these roots altogether, can be condemned for such a desire. No one striving to integrate into the host culture, without cutting off his ties to his native culture, is to be reproached. Philosophically, a man does not have to be an extremist. I see “Reform Judaism” as such an attempt to be free from the necessity of choosing between the extremes.
Yet “Reform Judaism” is a compromise. An understandable compromise, a positive compromise, but still a compromise between two different worlds, two different cultures. All cultural symbiosis is a compromise of sorts, and Reform Judaism is no exception. Interfaith marriages give a good illustration of this. If one wishes to adhere to two different and frankly incompatible religions, to belong to two different cultures, to observe two different traditions, one ends up with none. Or, rather, one ends up with an artificial semblance of a new type of culture, superficial and not serious enough to be accepted as a bona fide culture. With all my respect for Moses Mendelssohn, and he was the best among the Maskilim, it was hardly a coincidence that his son converted to Christianity, apparently unable to maintain the balance between the two worlds. His father had been a philosopher, a loner, whose balance had been sustained by a deliberate intellectual effort and a sense of mission, whereas Abraham Mendelssohn had no such determination.
By the same token, so many non-Orthodox and non-religious Jews today are feeling the urge to attend Yom Kippur religious services at a shabby Ultra-Orthodox shul, rather than at a resplendent Reform Temple with some very well dressed and pleasantly smelling fellow Maskilim who do not segregate men and women and, generally and aesthetically, offer a far superior and thoroughly civilized substitute for the real thing.
Such is my attitude to Reform Judaism. I have little love for compromises, even if I like “Reform” Jewish music and consider Reform religious service perhaps the most aesthetically pleasing, albeit the least religious, of all religious services of today.
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