ReCharging Reform Judaism

Israel represents both the most pressing, most challenging, most consequential realm

More than 140 years ago, a group of rabbis met in Pittsburgh to discuss the future of Judaism in America. Chaired by Isaac Mayer Wise, who thought of himself as the creator of American Judaism, the group adopted an eight-point platform transforming liberal Judaism to meet the needs of the current generation.

The Pittsburgh Platform, which emerged from that conference, reflected the thinking of Kaufman Kohler, who believed the time had come for Judaism to turn sharply from the particularistic practices of the Old World toward a more universal understanding. Gone were many of the traditions that defined Judaism for millennia, including both ritual practices and a deep connection to the land of Israel, replaced with a Judaism built on universal ethics rather than the historic core of God, Torah and Israel.

The shift defined a generation or two of American Jews, but by the 1930s things had changed, and when the Reform movement gathered to reconsider American Judaism at a conference in Columbus, Ohio, in 1937, the gathering adopted a platform which, while recognizing the power of universal ethical understandings, also re-embraced the particularism and deep connection to the land of Israel that has animated Jewry from Sinai onward.

Fast forward to the early 21st century. Another group of Reform rabbis began to gather to reimagine Jewish life in America. Through countless Zoom meetings during the pandemic, a movement emerged. American Judaism had changed. Twentieth-century models needed to be reimagined. Spirituality, an embrace of God and our relationship with the Divine needed to be emphasized. Torah, understood broadly, deserved more attention, more deep study. And Israel, both the land and the people, needed to be reprioritized. The first Recharging Reform conference opened the debate more widely, and the third conference, just recently concluded, extended the conversation.

Just as before, events of the day have shaped our outlook as Jews. The growth of threats from both the far right and the far left, attacks on the North American Jewish community, the vociferous attacks along with bloody conflict in Israel and the continuing rise of assimilation combine to change Jewish life. Today’s Jews cry out for a new vision for 21st-century American Judaism.

Modern Jews desire a stronger sense of connection and purpose. We crave a return to the core beliefs of God, Torah and Israel, not just as we move further along generationally into our American identities but as we grow as Jews. God, as we Jews understand, can be active or passive, followed or challenged. Today’s Jews desire a robust embrace of the sacred, encounters that are deeply spiritual, a willingness to wrestle with God.

Today’s Jews have more opportunities than ever to engage in study of Torah and Jewish text. The internet overflows with options, but our congregations and communities long for physical in-person learning experiences. Modern Jews recognize that Torah can be viewed as the Five Books of Moses or more expansively to the entire corpus of Jewish thought and text. And modern Jews are hungry to explore all that has been written.

And Israel represents both the most pressing, most challenging, most consequential realm. We Jews have always understood that our connection to Israel includes both landedness and peoplehood. We know that our theological connections to Israel stand as an essential piece of our identity. The push for nationalism in the 19th century saw the growth of political Zionism, which helped to create the modern state of Israel. But at its heart, Zionism shines not as a political or divisive concept but rather one of theology, inclusion, togetherness and hope for all people.

At the Recharging conference, Rabbi Ammi Hirsch declared forcefully that Israel stands as a core element of our sense of Jewishness and demands a particular approach from our seminaries — namely that our movement schools refuse to admit or ordain students who proclaim their anti-Zionism. His words were met with an equally forceful response from President Andrew Rehfeld of the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion. Rehfeld argued that as an open liberal institution of higher learning, HUC-JIR was committed to open debates without litmus tests. He suggested the free market would respond, hiring or refusing to hire those with views deemed to be outside the boundaries.

In a sense, the discussion at Recharging returned the Reform movement to earlier debates. But in the post-Oct. 7 world, these debates carry different weight. A generation or more of Jews equates the policies of a particular administration as the essence of Jewish connection to the land. As Americans, we understand that the American ideal and the American reality may be poles apart. But as Jews, too many of us miss this deep truth.

We may disagree with a particular policy, party or administration, but our connection to the land stretches back thousands of years. And nowhere in the history of our connection to the land do we see a denial of the sanctity or security of anyone else who calls that land home or holy. We are called to be Zionists and also to recognize that other folks of other faiths also deserve safety, security and sanctity.

The return to God, Torah and Israel provide a path forward, a vision for a new generation of American Jews. Our people long for a Judaism robust with exploration, a Judaism committed to tikkun olam, the repair of the world, as a Jewish ideal and not just a general act of social justice — a Judaism filled with joy, a Judaism which honors our history but encourages us to look beyond the walls of our synagogues to see how we can continue our sacred partnership with God to continue creation.

This cry for reimagination rings particularly clearly in Pittsburgh, home to many significant advancements for American Judaism. The creation of Beit Kulanu, a unified Reform congregation, represents a bold and fearless willingness to reimagine our Jewish lives, to commit to building anew, to rethinking and recreating a stronger, more inclusive, more engaged Jewish community.

As we embrace and celebrate the emergence of Beit Kulanu, we do so with a renewed commitment to sacred covenant, a shared understanding among ourselves and with the Almighty. That covenant includes land, people, text and God. To backtrack on any one piece is to weaken the entire covenant. Debate and argue we must. Honor our history and traditions we must. Explore, learn, grow, and change we must. Demand the best of our leaders — both political and religious — we must.

Our call today — and Beit Kulanu’s call — rings clear: Embrace an extraordinary opportunity to return, rethink, reimagine and redefine Jewish life in America as we re-engage with God, Torah and Israel. Our ancestors and our descendants demand no less. PJC

Rabbi Daniel J. Fellman is senior rabbi at Beit Kulanu.