An Orthodox rabbi’s struggle with pluralism

Orthodox rabbis writing about their experiences in pluralistic spaces often come across as cringe-worthy: Why wasn’t the food kosher enough when no one here keeps kosher as strictly as I do? What’s wrong with valuing others without validating their Jewish identities or practices?

Why, then, am I writing this blog post? Because Jews of all backgrounds need to be better pluralists now more than ever.

Who am I?

I grew up in the Conservative movement, valuing halakhic pluralism throughout my religious development. My first-cousins on one side of the family were staunchly Reform and my uncle on the other side was Orthodox. Members of my family had every conceivable range of Shabbat and kashrut observance. We all got along, shared in each other’s celebrations, and understood that not all Jews had to do or believe in the same ways. While in university, I sat on the board of both the Conservative and Orthodox communities, helped found a partnership minyan, and proudly worked with Hillel as a Leadership Engagement and Development Fellow. To this day, I still fill-out alumni surveys identifying as “post-denominational, Orthodox-practicing.”

Pluralism was more than a value to me. It was simply who I was.

Several experiences, however, have made me deeply suspicious of institutional pluralistic engagement. I share two of them publicly not to suggest that pluralistic endeavors are not worthwhile, but as a plea for us to generate better pluralistic opportunities. If we wish to be a united Jewish community, we need those now more than ever.

The Retreat

When I was in rabbinical school, I applied to join a retreat with peers from other denominations. The head of the retreat (a respected rabbi) told me that I would be welcome aboard as long as I would actively participate in the retreat’s egalitarian minyan. I was unprepared to do so and concluded that particular retreat was not for me after all. What struck me was the response I received from there:

I understand your predicament and respect your decision. Going forward you will have to examine whether the policies of the system of which you are part advance the larger ‘shlaymut’ we want in the world or not. These are the decisions that will determine the kind of rabbinate you develop.

The Networking Event

Several years later, I attended a networking event for community leaders put together by the local federation. The event included a speed-dating segment which involved sitting down with another organization and brainstorming events that could be held together. I sat with the representative of another congregation (a lay leader, not their rabbi) and we had an upsetting, though perhaps predictable, conversation:

“Rabbi Gotlib, I don’t think there’s anything we can do together because our synagogue has a feminist woman rabbi.”

“That’s not a problem at all! I’m happy to work with anyone who will work with me!”

“But surely you wouldn’t want to do anything with us. We have women wear tefillin, read from the Torah, and count in the minyan!”

“None of these are issues for me.”

Things continued from there with a similar pattern. A point would be raised as a reason why I would surely never want to do anything in partnership with that congregation, I would respond that there was no problem with planning something together as far as I was concerned, and a new issue was raised.

I contacted the rabbi of that synagogue after the event, who informed me that the treatment by her representative was unsurprising. Members of her community had “been burned enough times by some of the Orthodox world” and thus were suspicious of any partnership. I offered to have a public discussion with her, on her own terms and in her own space, about that which divides and unites us as a people but never received a response.

What Went Wrong? 

Both of these cases (only two examples of many conversations I’ve personally had and heard about from others) demonstrate a lack of trust in good-faith partnership between Orthodox and non-Orthodox Jews. Orthodox rabbis who wish to engage in such conversations or projects tend to be seen as insufficiently committed to pluralism, assumed not to have interest, or simply not considered for such projects from the get-go. I remember when I once asked a colleague why the book he had published was advertised as “representing all of American Jewry,” yet had no representation from Modern Orthodoxy outside of its left-most institutions. I was told that “no one to their right would have had interest in the project,” so it hadn’t been worthwhile to look for anyone. He was genuinely astonished to find that I would have contributed had I been asked to.

Of course, we must also be willing to call a spade a spade. Orthodox rabbis, as my colleague correctly pointed out, tend not to have the best track record when it comes to pluralism. That is clearly its own problem which must be addressed, but it should not bar those who truly do wish to be involved with the broader Jewish community for its own sake in the meantime.

Orthodox Jews, even those outside of specific institutions, represent a large part of the world’s Jewish community. Yet those of us who genuinely want to be part of a unified Jewish conversation are so often shown the exit before even being allowed to enter.

Where Do We Go From Here? 

We are living in a time of unprecedented interest in embracing Jewish identity, while facing levels of antisemitism not seen since the Holocaust. Now, more than ever, we need to have a unified Jewish community. Unity, though, need not entail uniformity.

My gold standard in this regard is Rutgers Hillel. The community was united in every meaningful way, with large degrees of interaction amongst individuals. People would daven at whichever minyan they felt most comfortable and then go to dinner and sit with their friends who had davened elsewhere or perhaps did not daven at all and had only arrived for the meal. Everyone spoke and socialized with each other, even as differences in religious opinion were obvious.

Perhaps it would be beneficial for the global Jewish community to operate like Hillel. Normalize interactions between leaders and laypeople while acknowledging sincere religious disagreements. Get to know Jews of other denominations who are interested in getting to know you even, and especially, if they challenge your assumptions about what such Jews are like. If you’re interested in talking to Orthodox rabbis who wants nothing more than to foster such environments, reach out to us. We’re easy to find.