Pirkei Avot 4.2

Ben Azzai said: Run to perform even a minor mitzvah, and flee from sin; for one mitzvah leads to another mitzvah and one sin leads to another sin; for the reward of a mitzvah is a mitzvah, and the reward of a sin is a sin.

In their book, The Jew Within, Arnold Eisen and Steven Cohen write that most liberal Jews approach their religious obligations based on their level of comfort or appreciation for that particular form of observance. Those for whom a family experience is meaningful, which describes most Jews, will observe Passover and other family-oriented religious traditions. Those for whom a prayer experience holds value will find themselves at a synagogue on a more regular basis. Those for whom social action is a central part of religious activity will gravitate towards those kinds of activities and the communities that promote them.

Most liberal Jews, according to Cohen and Eisen, reject the idea that they are commanded to observe, and that in that commandment lies its own obligation. For most liberal Jews, the idea of sacrificing their autonomy to choose those activites that are most relevant to their lives and core beliefs is anathema. To sacrifice one's autonomy, especially to something as amorphous as a religious community, is to give up what is best about being a member of the American experience. It is our ability to choose our particular path, the one that speaks to us, that defines the modern experience, not only of Jews, but of all Americans in the beginning of the 21st century.

The Rabbis, by contrast, neither knew nor would they have understood the centrality and priority of autonomy. What they understood was that there were those who are in a position to command - kings and gods - and those who are subject to those commands. G-d may have given us free will (see Pirkei Avot 3.19), but that does not change the fact that we have been given a command, indeed 613 of them, and that our choice is only whether to obey or disobey the command and the Commander.

The essence of Halacha is the notion that we are commanded in the Torah, both the Written and the Oral Law, and that our only choice is whether we will obey the command. We may, in fact we must, study in order to fully understand the nature and the form of the command. We may understand these commands in a historical, theological or sociological context. We may apply modern notions sensibilities to these commands to observe them in ways that are consistent with our moral and social framework. What we may not do is reject them as irrelevant , unnecessary, or anachronistic. To do so is to reject the very framework of positive historical Judaism, the claim of the Conservative movement. When Conservative Jews choose automonmy over commandedness, Conservative Judaism sacrifices its claim to be a Halachic movement.

As Conservative Jews, we have an obligation that calls out to us. We are commanded to observe. As Ben Azzai says, in doing one Mitzvah, another will follow and that, in itself, is the reward.

Pirkei Avot 4.1

I am way behind on my posts, so I am going to skip to where we are currently and catch up on the older entries over the next few weeks.

Ben Zoma says: Who is wise? He who learns from every person, as it is said: From all those who taught me, I grew wise (Psalms 119:99). Who is strong? He who subdues his personal inclination, as it is said: He who is slow to anger is beter than a strong man, and a master of his passions is better than a conqueror of a city (Proverbs 16:32). Who is rich? He is happy with his lot, as it is said: When you eat of the labor of your hands, you are praiseworthy and all is well with you (Psalms 128:2). 'You are praiseworthy' - in this world; 'and all is well with you' - in the World to Come. Who is honored? he who honors others, as it is said: For those who honor Me I will honor, and those who scorn Me shall be degraded. (I Samuel 2:30).

Last week, I wrote about a friend who asked about my reaction to an article by Vanessa Ochs and the response that the newspaper received. To summarize, Ochs wrote that going to church on occasion can be an invigorating experience. There is a palpable sense of G-d's love for each individual person that pervades the atmosphere of the most exciting chuch services. (I suspect that this feeling is much more subdued in more mainline Protestant churches than in the Black Baptist or Methodist AME churches.) Readers, especially Orthodox readers, responded that she might find a similar level of intimacy with G-d in the Orthodox service and that a Jew would be better off looking at authentic avenues of Jewish expression than trying to seek something in the church experience.

I think that this response misses the critical point that Ochs raises, which is that each tradition brings something special and unique to the worship of G-d. To say that the church experience brings something that Ochs finds missing in her experience of synagogue services is not to disparage the synagogue, but to point to a uniqueness that is found elsewhere. Those who are threatened by such comparative approaches are diminished; those who understand the value that comes from understanding that which is Other are enhanced.

How does this relate to our Mishna this week? Ben Zoma says that the one who is wise is one who learns from all who would teach. How better to understand this point than to see that learning from the Other, those whose traditions and sensibilities are different from ours, is contained within the verse From all those who taught me, I grew wise. There is no limitation on who may teach me and I am encouraged to learn from all who have something to say. Conversely, we might say that he who limits his learning to only those who he would wish to teach him can not hope for wisdom.

Continuing in Ben Zoma's framework, strength is found in mastering one's passions. The passion that says that my tradition, my community, my prejudices, my preferences are right and correct and that those of the Other that are different are wrong weakens me. It weakens my ability to interact and grow through the Other. It weakens my community by denying it access to other truths. This does not mean that we need descend into relativism, but there are many more paths to truth than the one that I follow. I am strong when I can master the passion that would say that only my path can be the true path.

I am rich when I recognize that my path is also a path of truth. The Psalm says, When you eat of the labor of your hands... The fruit of our labor is the path on which we walk, made from the traditions of our people and the revelation that we have received. Our path is a path of peace and our Torah is a tree of life. To acknowledge that the Other path is also truth in now way diminishes the value in my path. My path to G-d makes me rich and it is the only path on which I can walk.

Finally, who is honored, one who honors Others. Can I truly serve G-d when I deny that Others too serve G-d, albeit differently. As I wrote here, we are all created b'tzelem elokim and we are all unique and equal and inifinitely precious. When I not only acknowledge and learn from Others, but honor them for their uniqueness, then I too am worthy of honor.

Going to Church?

A friend sent me an email suggesting that I read Vanessa Ochs' article in the New Jersey Jewish News (link here). Ochs writes, "It was Bishop Krister Stendal who illuminated the blessings of interfaith conversations with the concept of 'Holy Envy.'” The idea was to articulate what we admired about other faiths. Here is what I envy: the feeling I get when I go to church." Ochs' goes on to write about the feeling that G-d loves each individual churchgoer that is palpable in the church experience and is so missing from synagogue. She envies the deeply ingrained sense amongst church goers that they are, as specific individuals, the object of G-d's love. She writes that when she goes to synagogue, "I am so busy saying all the words of the prayers and noticing all the people I care about that it never strikes me that I have blown an opportunity to feel I am loved by God."

The point of my friend's email was that there were a several critical letters to the editor suggesting that church is no place for a nice Jewish woman. The letter writers, perhaps unfamiliar with Ochs' extensive knowledge of and commitment to her own tradition, suggested that she spend more time learning about Judaism and less time in the place of the Other. My friend wanted to know what I think.

My response to this is nonsense. I welcome, indeed I want to celebrate, all true expressions of faith in G-d. It is not enough to recognize that there are other paths to G-d, we should seek to understand those paths that are different from our own. Each path has something to teach us about G-d's love for the world G-d created and each of us in it. Understanding and celebrating those paths can broaden and deepen our appreciation for our own path.

In understanding the paths of the Other, we learn what is truly transcendent about G-d. We learn that there are foundations to faith that are independent of a particular ritual or community or tradition. We learn that a true faith is one that leads us, in Karen Armstrong's words, to an "active compassion." We learn that any faith that does not build up the world around us is not a true faith. That any faith that would tear down another in a selfish need to claim ascendancy as a truer faith is no true path to G-d.

We also learn about what distinguishes us. We learn why the Other is Other and why that path is not the path that leads us to G-d. We learn why our path is true for us by understanding the truth in other paths that do not speak to us. And we learn that there is much that other paths can teach us that strenghten, energize, and enliven the path that we have taken.

Ochs clearly understands that we have passed through a time when Jewish suspicion of the Other as stronger and bent on our destruction is warranted and necessary. There are still incidents that should concern us (growing anti-Semitism in Europe, hate in the Arab world, Israel-bashing in the world press), but here in North America, we have built a society in which the open exploration of traditions other than our own is not only possible, but will lead us to new understandings that will enrich us for years to come. So, I would say to my friend, go to church. You may find you are a better Jew for it.