
Rabbi Dr Jonathan Romain MBE speaking at Maidenhead Synagogue
It may not be flattering to describe Progressive Judaism as an elephant, but if you are aware of the old story then it might be an appropriate image.
The story is about a group of people who were put in a room in which there was no light at all and, unbeknown to them, there was an elephant standing in the middle. They could not see it and they were asked to identify what it was.
One felt its legs and declared it was a tree. Another felt its trunk and said it was a snake. A third touched its tusks and reckoned it was a spear. All were wrong, of course, because they had focused on one aspect and not the whole elephant.
How does that relate to Progressive Judaism? Because it too can appear in many guises to different people.
We see that regularly at the Beit Din, where those who are converting to Judaism have remarkably varying motives for doing so.
Some cite spirituality and see us as a God-centred movement that believes in the one Deity who is both creator and revealer, and with whom one can also have a personal relationship.
Without God, they feel, the world lacks purpose and order. They also latch on to the way we worship God, be it through the regular rhythm of the Sabbath services or daily observances like keeping kosher. Prayers and rituals are what makes us so compelling.
Not so for others. For them, it is not so much belief itself but the practical application of belief that Progressive Judaism preaches that attracts them. Tikkun olam (healing the world) is a cry for personal engagement, by turning the jungle in which we find ourselves into something more resembling a garden.
Social action – or godly action – means helping others, both within the Jewish community and equally outside it.
This may be through projects in one’s local neighbourhood (such as providing facilities for children with special needs), national campaigns (such as housing refugees) or international concerns (such as protecting the environment). These are Progressive Judaism’s key glories in their eyes.
For yet others, the great pulling factor is the sense of community that Progressive synagogues offer.
We live in a cold and lonely world, where individuals can feel lost. For them, like a Chanukiah glowing in the window, the warmth that comes from being part of a vibrant community is our main selling point.
Most of our synagogues are not just a house of prayer but a community centre, brimming with film evenings, walking groups, bridge clubs, mothers and toddlers, friendship clubs, book circles, and much more.
It may take a little effort to go along the first time, though hopefully one is invited, but once you are involved it becomes a new home where you feel valued and at ease. That is very powerful and should not be underestimated.
Of course, not every Progressive synagogue has such a range of activities, and not all operate at peak levels of welcome – but those that do are enormously attractive. Our national Movement is also here to help with advice, resources and connections.
There are also those who define their Jewishness as observing the values promoted by us: justice, integrity, honesty, charity, hospitality – and carried out with humility and kindness. As they might put it: to be a good Jew, you don’t have to believe in God… just do what God says.
Does this mean that converts who are motivated more by the tikkun olam or by the social and cultural aspects are less sincere or worthy than those whose route is solely religious?
The answer is a resounding ‘no’ – for they are merely mirroring born Jews, who also have very different points of connection with Jewish life.
The discrepancy between the number of people who attend services every Shabbat and those who come on the High Holy Days screams out that many do not feel the pull of regular prayer.
Even our periodic attempts to revise the Prayer Book to make it more meaningful or relevant, while enriching existing worshippers, rarely produce an influx of new ones.
To be even more blunt, the old assumption that most Jews are ‘two-times-a-year’ Jews is no longer true. Many never come to services at all, and the difference between the number who might be expected on Yom Kippur and the number who actually appear can be up to 50%. Yet the missing half still pay hundreds of pounds to be members.
It is not that they are hypocrites or delusional, just that they focus on other parts of being Jewish.
They may not attend services but might religiously participate in the knitting group or poetry circle, if not be essential to its success.
It would be a mistake, though, to simply say they are non-religious. Their standpoint is much more pronounced in that many are agnostic or atheist, either holding there may be no God or being sure there is none.
This is a uniquely Jewish phenomenon. You cannot be a Christian atheist because if you do not believe in the ‘Father, Son and Holy Ghost’, you are not a Christian. But a Jewish atheist can still look Jewish, eat Jewish, laugh Jewish, speak Jewish, act Jewish or think Jewish… and still want to belong to a synagogue and actively contribute in various areas of interest.
I recall a member at Maidenhead who never came to services but was crucial to the synagogue’s endeavours. Why? Because he was the wicket keeper for the shul’s cricket team and each summer would guard our Progressive Jewish stumps every Sunday with ferocious pride. That was his way of being Jewish and we won many a match thanks to him.
It is clear, therefore, that there are many ways of Jews being Jewish and the best synagogues allow them to do so, regarding themselves as a house with many doors. It does not matter by which one people enter, so long as they come in somehow, and our job is to keep all doors wide open.
• Rabbi Dr Jonathan Romain MBE is Convenor of The Movement for Progressive Judaism’s Reform Beit Din. This article first appeared in The Movement for Progressive Judaism’s magazine Voices.

