Taking the Plunge

Much has changed since our greatest generation was liberated from Egypt, but the challenges and opportunities that come with being an emancipated mixed multitude remain ours to address. Ours is an age where the nature of Jewish identity and the boundaries of communal definition are becoming more complicated, not less. The numbers speak for themselves: of non-Orthodox Jews who marry, more than 70 percent marry non-Jews. The age-old definition of defining Jewish identity by way of the mother was upended decades ago by the decision of the Reform Movement to accept patrilineal descent. Whatever the conventions of Jewish definition may have once been, any study of Jewish demography makes clear that Jewish identity is shifting from an objective top-down religious or inherited definition to a subjective bottom-up matter of cultural, ethnic, or other identification. “Jews by religion,” “Jews by no religion,” Madonna-like non-Jews who quite like the Jewish religion, and whole lot of other categories that our ancestors could never have imagined. Ours is the era of ancestry.com. The pie chart of Jewish DNA is getting more porous and the question of what does and doesn’t constitute Jewish identity and who does and doesn’t get to decide, more fluid.

And in this new world of shifting terrain – one constant remains – and that constant is love. Love is a powerful thing, and time and again, young people find themselves, as the song from Fiddler on the Roof goes, wanting to build a home with a person not from the home they love. For a rabbi, this conversation is not matter of theory, but of deep personal and pastoral consequence. Aside from the sociology and the statistics are the real life stories that walk into my office all the time. What to do when a child of our congregation wants to marry a non-Jew? Or, as is increasingly often the case, when a child of our congregation has fallen in love with a patrilineal Jew who grew up in a Reform synagogue, had a bar mitzvah, and participated in youth groups and Birthright. Am I really expected to tell the couple that the patrilineal Jew must convert for me to officiate? Or when a woman descended from a family from the Former Soviet Union, whose Jewish origins lay shrouded under decades of communist rule, walks into my office seeking to reconnect with her roots – am I really to tell her that her Jewish journey is less authentic than another’s? Or when a child born to a non-Jewish mother seeks to enter our Congregational School wishing to celebrate her bat mitzvah on this bimah, would I dare derail that child’s emergent Jewish identity by suggesting that she isn’t really Jewish? As a Conservative rabbi, I have a commitment to uphold Jewish law, including, as I have stated on multiple occasions, not to officiate at interfaith weddings. As a rabbi, I also have an obligation to meet people where they are and to serve the Jewish future by helping build Jewish identity. So what, you may ask, is a Conservative rabbi to do?

It is a question that, as many of you know, I have been wrestling with for some years. This month, under the leadership of Rabbi Zuckerman and a committee of lay leaders, we will begin a cross-communal conversation on this subject that will continue in the months and undoubtedly years to come. I hope that everyone has a chance to study the issue and to help shape our shared future. In the spirit of highlighting this conversation, I would like to offer a proposal – call it a trial balloon for your consideration – for our community, and for anyone listening, the Conservative Movement as a whole.

By my read of the sources, from the Talmudic period onward, there is an established position permitting conversion to Judaism by way of mikveh immersion for a woman, and by circumcision and mikveh immersion for a man, when those acts are coupled with a course of study. A mikveh, for those who do not know, is a pool used for the purpose of ritual immersion. Mikveh immersion is the Jewish act ritualizing a sacred transformation from one state of being to another, be it to follow the laws of family purity, prepare spiritually for Shabbat or holidays, mark lifecycle transitions, ritualize loss, recovery, or the need for healing, or to effect conversion to Judaism. For the conversion of newborns or minors the requirement of study is of course waived; being called up as a bar or bat mitzvah signals a willed acceptance of an adolescent’s Jewish identity. The duration and content of the course of study is not specified in rabbinic sources; the requirement is to teach the would-be Jew some of the strict and some of the lenient commandments along with the obligations and misfortunes that can accompany being a Jew. On the question of the degree to which that would-be convert must become observant of the totality of Jewish law, in Hebrew kabbalat ol mitzvot, there are multiple opinions among respected authorities, ranging from comprehensive observance to a sincere assent to the ideal of living an observant Jewish life.

Because I am eyes wide open to the demography of American Jewry, because my read of the tradition is what it is, and, most of all, because everything I do as a rabbi is done on behalf of the Jewish future, I believe that the same body of Jewish law that mandates that I only officiate at weddings of one Jew to another, may also be leveraged towards a maximally embracing approach as to who is or isn’t a Jew according to Jewish law. The needs of the hour call on us to invoke the rabbinic principle of koha d’heteirah adif, the power of rendering a lenient ruling is preferable. In a world where there are no guarantees regarding whom our children will fall in love with, it is incumbent upon us to lower, not raise, the barriers to becoming a Jew. As I stated years ago, when I join a gym they don’t tell me, “get in shape and then join,” they say, “join and then we will get you in shape.” This attitude should be our approach to would-be Jews. If a non-Jew desires to build a Jewish home with a Jewish partner, my job is to nurture that desire, draw them close, and make the onramp to Jewish life as inviting and accessible as possible. How long should the process take? That is up to the rabbi. I have yet to meet a non-Jew who is so cavalier about the faith in which they were raised, the faith of their future spouse, and most of all their own personal integrity, that they have walked into my office asking to be converted the following day. Jewish identity takes hold not by some magic number of classes, but by way of warm and invested rabbinic mentorship, strong and appropriate curriculum, and earnest communal engagement. As for the argument that only those who will be fully observant may convert, we would do well to acknowledge that this is a self-validating criterion imposed upon the Jewish world by those who would limit the definition of what it means to be a Jew only to those who are fully observant, a definition that devalues the Jewish authenticity of pretty much everyone in this room. Jewish identity can be measured by observance, but it can also be measured by way of culture, nationality, communal affiliation, philanthropy, and otherwise. In our community and like-minded communities we must invest in outreach, education, and programming toward creating as many pathways to Jewish life and living as possible, all with the aim bringing the maximum number of people into the definition of a Jew as defined by Jewish law. The Conservative Movement should be the movement of conversion. That should be our mission. There is a need to be met and a market share to be had were we to have the courage and wherewithal to take it up.

As to the question of weddings of patrilineal Jews, Jews of uncertain descent, and any other shades of Jewish identity, I would like to explore the possibility that mikveh immersion become a requirement for rabbinic officiation. As it stands now, if you want me to officiate at your wedding, I require brides and grooms to get genetic testing, see a couples counselor, and be a member or child of a member of this synagogue. I am proposing that we add another requirement. Regardless of whether or not you can trace your lineage back to Moses, every bride and groom immerses in the mikveh prior to the huppah. I did so before my wedding. It was an incredibly powerful experience that enabled me to reflect on my past and prepare for the exciting chapter to come – a transformative ritual that many brides and grooms remember as the most spiritually inspired aspect of their wedding preparation. Such a requirement would level the playing field of Jewish identity – which is, incidentally, what Israel should have done when hundreds of thousands of Jews of uncertain Jewish descent emigrated from the Former Soviet Union. No vetting, no making someone feel “less than” – the same rule applied to all. An affirmation to create a Jewish home and raise Jewish children plus mikveh immersion – everyone equal in the eyes of Jewish law.

So too, with our children. Owing to the legal status of a minor in Jewish law, it is actually easier to address matters of Jewish identity prior to a child’s reaching maturity than after. What if we were to explore the possibility that every child who wants to celebrate a bar or bat mitzvah here at Park Avenue Synagogue or elsewhere, matrilineal or patrilineal – my kid or anyone else’s – took a dip in the mikveh? A colleague of mine has successfully instituted this policy in her synagogue, and it has transformed not only the bnei mitzvah process but the culture of her community. Once a month at her shul, the children “on deck” for their bnei mitzvah immerse in the mikveh, each individually, thereby announcing that their Jewish identity is not an accident of birth, but a willed choice to be a stakeholder in the Jewish people and destiny. For those whose Jewish identity is not in question, it is a day they will long remember, certainly as much as the rabbi’s words or the obligatory game of “Coke and Pepsi” at the party. For those whose Jewish past calls on them to affirm their commitment to the Jewish future, mikveh immersion would be a beautiful ritual of affirmation with the added benefit of dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s of their identity for their bnei mitzvah and for the remainder of their lives. If adopted by our community and world Jewry, this policy would, over time, obviate the question of who is and who isn’t a Jew by the time these bnei mitzvah kids are ready to get married.

There is much more to say, thousands of details to work out, and our communal conversation hasn’t even begun, but we have to begin somewhere. In broad brushstrokes, here is what I am suggesting we consider:

1. A conversion process whose length is left to the discretion of the sponsoring rabbi
2. Mikveh immersion becoming part of the pre-wedding preparation for all couples 
3. Mikveh immersion becoming part of the bnei mitzvah process.

It would be a policy that enables us to affirm our position on intermarriage while being as halachically embracing as possible to the would-be Jew.

Such a policy would not, to be clear, meet the needs of every interfaith relationship. As I stated two weeks ago, there are a million good reasons why a non-Jew may not want to convert to Judaism. Nevertheless, such a policy, all the more so if combined with strong educational offerings and robust engagement with interfaith couples, would enable us as a community to sleep peacefully knowing we are doing everything we can, in spirit and in deed, to meet people where they are, all the while remaining within the bounds of Jewish law. Will those on the religious right accept our conversions? Of course not. But they never did and do not now. Nevertheless, I do believe that if the collective arms of the non-Orthodox Jewish world, in the diaspora and in Israel, embrace such an inclusive approach to Jewish identity, it may, in the long term, shift the politics on the age-old question of “Who is a Jew?” redounding to the benefit of the Jewish people as a whole.

“This month shall mark for you the beginning of months.” Today we announce the new month of Nisan, and with it Passover sits just over two weeks away. Soon enough we will sit down at our seder tables and declare, Kol dikhfin yeitei v’yeikhol, “Let all who are hungry come find a seat and be satisfied.” This year, let our focus turn to include those who have a spiritual hunger and desire to sit at the table of our people. I hope you will be part of the communal conversation to come. If nothing else, Passover reminds us that every child – wise, wicked, simple, and even the one who does not know how to ask – has a seat reserved. Let us fulfill our obligation to bring as many as we can into the narrative and covenant of our people, and in so doing, fulfill our obligation to the Jewish past by building a very bright and inclusive Jewish future.