My friend and colleague Rabbi Steve Greenberg taught me a bit of Torah about ger and ger toshav in the late 1990s.  Just as we are instructed to embrace the ger, the convert among us, and avoid shaming the ger in any way, we are also taught to embrace the ger toshav those who “dwell with us.” In particular, Steve used the example of Uriah the Hittite as someone who stood in solidarity with our people. He felt that much of the tension around intermarriage could be dealt with if there were a clear articulation of the status of the ger toshav for our times.

Why bring up the ger and ger toshav?

When a couple approaches me as a rabbinic officiant about an intermarriage, I still hope for a best case scenario in which the non-Jewish partner falls in love with the Jewish folkways and desires to convert. Sometimes that is exactly what happens when people start to get serious about creating a family – and I have had the honor a few times to be on the bet din as we welcomed new Jewish folks into the community.

But what about the cases when someone has a strong aversion to conversion? Or simply would like to convert eventually but does not want to feel rushed? In those cases, I think that Liberal rabbis should ask the non-Jewish partners who are getting ready to spend their lives coupled with Jews: If you are not planning to convert before the wedding, are you comfortable with publicly allying yourself with the Jewish people?

This kind of ally-ship happens in a myriad of ways. I know one rabbi who has the person sign a document when the ketubah is signed.  Another rabbi requires a public declaration of creating a Jewish home under the chupah that is affirmed by the couple, and another has a series of films, books, and experiences that they require during the pre-wedding months to spark a rich conversation about what it means to be an ally. Here’s what I have learned from those who take creative approaches: Even people who are not open to conversion (for whatever reason) are open to becoming a ger toshav, and to seeing themselves as part of a Jewish ceremony, a Jewish home, and a Jewish family. 

Unfortunately, the recent ruling by the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College, permitting rabbinical students to be partners with folks who actively practice other religions or with folks who are religious leaders in other religions, potentially undermines these creative options. 

I’m hoping that by sharing some of the words that I wrote to my colleagues in the rabbinical association before the decision was made that I can contribute to a discussion that needs to be had not only in the reconstructionist movement, but in the entire Liberal Jewish world.

Reflections on Conversion, Public Leadership, and the Non-Jewish Partner Policy of the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College 

Rabbi Daniel Brenner

 

Seven years ago, when I taught in a Protestant seminary in Manhattan (New York Theological) one of the Black Pentecostal students in my class pulled me aside after class and asked a question about traditional Jewish attitudes towards conversion. “The Muslims want me, ” she said “they set up in my neighborhood and tried to get me to join. The Mormons want me. They moved in last year. And I know a dozen churches that want me. Why don’t you want me? I just don’t understand why you don’t want me to be a Jew. Is there something wrong with me? Maybe the reason most people don’t like Jews is because you think that you are better than everyone else.”

This was the first time in my life that I considered the flip side of the Jewish stance against proselytizing.  Ever since I was a kid I’d been told that Jews are different (and maybe a little better) because we don’t try to push our beliefs on others. I laughed at the story told by Ruth Messinger about how a group of African children she worked with thought of Jews as “the White people who didn’t make us sing about Jesus.”  Jews just want to be left alone to do their thing in peace and we just let other people believe what they want to believe. Want to become a Jew? We like to turn you away – or at least tell you a few reasons why you shouldn’t be a Jew – before we start you on a course of study. And that’s a good thing, right?

Lately I have begun to think differently about the role of Jewish people in this world – and the role of rabbis – in promoting the positive impact that modern Judaism might play in a multifaith context. In short, I think that a Kaplanian approach to Judaism is exactly what the planet needs in terms of coming into balance between the old and the new. It is a framework that values the thousands of years of philosophic, spiritual, and legal thought that precedes it and values the new ideas (democracy, equality) inherent in post-Enlightenment thought.  It is a counter to both traditional religion that aims to take us back to a strict patriarchy and to universalism which threatens to blend every tradition into the mush of sweet aphorisms that sociology of religion scholar Christian Smith labels “therapeutic moral deism.”

What we have in Kaplanian Judaism is a perfect balance of past and present. And while I may not have all the tactics clearly thought out, I think the time has come for us to be much more welcoming of non-Jewish seekers in a way that helps the many folks who fall in love with individual Jews to seriously explore Judaism. 

Even though I have spent years devoted to multifaith work and I have found many aspects of other faith traditions to be compelling, I think that Judaism offers a spiritual path and ethical code of unique worth. I respect other faiths – I speak out against those who denigrate them – but as a rabbi I advocate for Judaism. I care that my children continue on the same reconstructionist and pluralist Jewish path we have celebrated and marked in our home and that they are someday in committed relationships with others who walk that path, and that they help to bring up children – of their own or of the community – in that path.  I do this not because I have ideas about race that I want to perpetuate, nor because I value continuity of tradition for its own sake, or because I value Jewish peoplehood for the sake of peoplehood – but because I think that a Kaplanian approach to Judaism – an approach that brings modernity (democracy, feminism, multiculturalism, queer thought, etc.) into dialogue with Judaism (the religious civilization at the root of the religious systems practiced by half the planet and a system with three thousand years of discussion and praxis behind it) is something the world needs more of. Such an ideology can only survive within the context of community and I think it is time that we advanced our ideology beyond our tiny corner of the Jewish world.

What will it take to do that?

One thing it will take is placing a high value on the experiences, pedagogies, and classes that lead people to choose the path of conversion.

Here is a snapshot of how valuing conversion can work: I am an active member of a Reconstructionist community with a Reconstructionist rabbi who is married to someone who chose Judaism. This fact is known to just about everyone in our community and makes our congregation a strong attraction for intermarried couples and families. One of the side effects of having a rebbetzin who is a convert is that non-Jews who are active in our synagogue consider conversion seriously. I have been very fortunate to have celebrated some of these conversions and heard stories about the process. I know that conversion is valued in my community in large part because the rebbetzin and others are a positive force in making conversion accessible. Having a rabbi who understands what it is like for their partner to go through conversion is also a major plus.

Does that mean that every non-Jewish partner converts? Of course not. We, like most Liberal congregations, have many active non-Jewish members. But those non-Jewish partners see other non-Jews who do choose to convert and see how conversion leads to a deeper embrace in the community. They get that it is a value to convert…and a possibility. We have, as a result, a wonderfully active adult education program, including Hebrew language classes.

I say this half-jokingly, but in my dream scenario for expanding reconstructionism beyond its current scope, I would want to deploy a large cadre of reconstructionst rabbis who themselves are converts or who are married to converts. The impact that such a group would have on non-Jews interested in Judaism would be enormous.  If we patterned our outreach on the model of the 92Y’s Derech Torah “Introduction to Judaism” course and offered ongoing classes led by such a cadre in every major U.S. city, we would triple the size of our denomination in five years. This would benefit every graduate of RRC. But let me get back to reality.

One of my friends from my synagogue grew up in the Church of Latter-Day Saints. He became a Jew after falling in love with a Jewish woman and finding a rabbi in New York who had, herself, converted to Judaism and was teaching an intro to Judaism class. “She knew what I was going through” he told me when he first relayed his spiritual journey, “I couldn’t have done it without her.”

I love what converts have brought to our community – such joy, such a desire to learn, such an affirmation of Judaism. The spirit they bring is especially needed by a people that is still, in many ways, wounded.

All this brings me to the discussion at hand – the policy of the RRC vis a vis non-Jewish partners.

Before I say anything about the policy, I think that I need to acknowledge that I have two wonderful reconstructionist rabbi colleagues who I know are in long-term interfaith relationships for complicated reasons and I respect their decisions and wish them only happiness. I know that their paths in the rabbinate have been challenging and that it will likely be difficult for them to read an opinion in favor of the current policy. But I hope that they will consider my words and my approach.

I think that it is important for the RRC to actively encourage and support conversion with the message: if you are partnered with a non-Jew we expect your partner to accompany you on your path to the rabbinate by beginning a process of conversion. 

I say this primarily because being a reconstructionist rabbi is not simply about fulfilling a personal spiritual journey, but about taking on the mantle of public Jewish leadership. You don’t need to become a rabbi to fulfill mitzvahs, or care for others, or to study – you can happily do all those things without a rabbinic title. But to be public Jewish leaders, rabbis have to take on responsibilities that are professional, spiritual, symbolic, and otherwise – and take on responsibilities that go beyond being a typical Jew. Religiously speaking, we hold power on a Beit Din, professionally speaking, we are in a particular type of power relationship with those we pastor.

Rabbinic formation is premised on creating literate and compassionate leaders for the Jewish people. And like it or not, every rabbi who is partnered brings their partner along for the public aspect of the ride. Unlike counseling professions that explicitly disconnect all professional relationships from personal ones, rabbinic work takes place within community – and calls on rabbis to do the difficult dance of finding their place within the communities that they serve. This reality puts many demands on the partners of rabbis, and while those in the Orthodox world invest a great deal of time in preparing partners of rabbis for this reality, for many years we in Liberal circles have ignored the role of partners of rabbis to our detriment.

So, given the public nature of the rabbinate and the value that being in a committed partnership brings, a goal of the college, in my mind, should be to generate as many strong Jewish rabbi/partner pairs as possible. It is also a wonderful thing that we graduate some stellar single rabbis (though I hesitate to use the word “single” – sorry, wish there were a better word) – in fact, I would even say that it should also be a goal of the college to graduate a cadre of single rabbis.

But let’s stop and ask: Why does it matter that we graduate partnered rabbis?

In part, because a large part of the population that we serve is partnered and in need of our emotional and spiritual support in navigating those partnerships. Rabbis with years of partnering experience have something unique to offer in terms of their counseling and spiritual guidance.

Can you build a Jewish home with a non-Jewish partner? Yes. And some people seem to be doing it rather well. But we have to be honest and say that for every success story there is also the flip side – Jewish folks who would like to be building a Jewish home with their non-Jewish partners but are stuck with a parade of compromises, silences, and quarrels.

Conversion – or I should say the option of conversion – is a part of that story. There are thousands of couples that have had a serious conversation about conversion at some point in their relationship and thousands of non-Jewish partners who are on the fence about it. In communities where peers are choosing conversion, conversion classes are an option, and rabbis encourage it, those on the fence organically find themselves getting a Hebrew name and celebrating. In communities where conversion is not that important, well…uh…why bother?

In other words, we may be setting up a scenario that leads indirectly to thousands of Jewish folks saying:

“I’d like to encourage my non-Jewish spouse to consider becoming a Jew but I’m not really sure I’d get support from my rabbi.”

So now let’s talk about the current policy. I certainly don’t like the fact that it is worded in a “negative” rather than in a “positive.” But I do think it points us in the direction we should be heading in.

Allow me to articulate a positive vision of rabbinic training that would address the issues underlying the non-Jewish partner policy:

What if every first year student who was partnered was required to bring their partner to an RRC shabbaton, an RRC community shacharit, and a selection of classes?  How would that change rabbinic education? What if there were training for all partners in couples counseling and the role that partners play in supporting the rabbi in the family?

Now let’s take this even further – what if we offered a conversion class at RRC or part of RRC’s distance learning that is specifically for partners of prospective rabbinical students? What if there were a “prep year” track modeled in this way? What if we took baby steps in this direction by offering an open house or shabbaton in which partners were welcome?

What if in the final year of RRC there was a preparation for partners that took into account the challenges they would face as they supported the launching of a new rabbi?  My sense is that there would be both Jewish and non-Jewish partners who feel a little uncomfortable with this approach but over the long-term it would be a very good thing for our colleagues and our movement. 

We have a long way to go in our efforts to welcome intermarried folks and in our efforts to make conversion an attractive option. Changing the current policy will mean small gains for a handful of well-intentioned Jewish people today but losses for thousands of folks who could use a rabbis guidance in moving towards being a ger toshav or a ger in the many types of Jewish circles we call home, community, and kehillah.