A tough conversation on the Jewish conversion debate - opinion

Some respond with palpable shock and pain. “I’ve been Jewish for years,” they protest. Then there’s the confusion. “My mother converted, why am I not being accepted as a Jew?” As a rabbi committed to Halacha, Jewish law, it is a conversation I would prefer never to have. However, living in a diverse community, far from the streets of Brooklyn and Jerusalem, it is a reality I face all too often.

How do you explain to a goodhearted, sincere person who converted years ago under the guidance of a non-Orthodox rabbi, or someone whose mother converted that way, that their conversion is not valid according to Jewish law, and is not accepted in the majority of Jewish communities around the world? It is heartbreaking.

But it’s the hard truth that must be said.

Today, members of Reform congregations make up just 14% of US Jews. Conservatives are just 11%. Outside of the US, the vast majority of Jewish communities are Orthodox and only accept Orthodox conversions.

What’s the problem with non-Orthodox conversions?

Some will try to make the case that it’s all just politics. Or that the Chief Rabbinate is a power-hungry oligarchy. But the truth is, it’s about theology, belief and responsibility.

Some years ago, a prominent Conservative rabbi asked me why I can’t accept a Conservative conversion. I responded simply, with one line that sums up the entire issue: “How can I accept the conversion from a rabbi who does not believe in the first of the Ten Commandments, ‘I am the Lord your God who took you out of Egypt?’” I was referring to the rabbi of LA’s largest Conservative congregation who says he doubts that the Exodus actually happened.

It’s not power or politics. It’s about the core beliefs and teachings of Judaism.

Prior to the 19th century, development of the liberal Jewish movements’ disagreements about religious beliefs were centered on customs, such as whether or not one may eat rice on Passover (as Sephardim do and Ashkenazim don’t), and strategies about engaging the broader society. All subscribed to the foundational premises of the divinity of the Torah, the Exodus, and the centrality of the Jewish homeland. 

Of course, there were Jews who walked away from tradition, but they did not attempt to change the core beliefs. This all changed with the Reform movement’s seminal document, the 1885 Pittsburgh Platform, which rejected those core principles. (To its credit, the movement has drawn closer to tradition in recent years.) Then they created the idea of “religious pluralism,” claiming that just as Jews argued in the Talmud, so too we argue today. The fallacy in this debate is that while Hillel and Shammai debated how a person should lay tefillin, the liberal movements say you don’t necessarily have to don tefillin in the first place.

Only when we acknowledge the unbridgeable theological issues between traditional and liberal Judaism can we have real dialogue. Only when we lay all our cards on the table can we have a true relationship on stable footing. It’s with that standard that I begin my annual remarks to the graduating class of rabbis at American Jewish University, the West Coast Conservative seminary. It’s usually a wonderful, refreshing conversation. The students are young Jews seeking Jewish meaning in their lives. 

I START the conversation with blunt honesty saying, “I don’t believe in pluralism. I believe in the tradition of Torah from Sinai.” The idea is simple, and instead of dancing around the real issue, I lay it out. And it leads us into great discussions.

Traditional Jews are not going to abrogate a commitment to thousands of years of Jewish legal precedent and the upholding of classical Jewish beliefs, as articulated beautifully by Maimonides in his Principles of Faith. They are not going to endorse a belief system that rejects those ideas. Not because they want to control others, nor are they looking for religious hegemony. We simply believe in God, and in His Torah as it’s been taught since the dawn of history.

That does not mean observant Jews are absolved from speaking to those across this theological divide with dignity and respect. Sadly, many voices portray liberal Jews with no understanding or appreciation of their own journey and struggle with belief and identity. Arguing about ideas is fine, degrading others is unacceptable.

At the same time, liberal Jewish leaders need to take some responsibility for the consequences of their decisions. Time and again I have heard a non-Orthodox convert react with shock at the idea that their conversion isn’t valid according to Halacha. Why aren’t they being told this to begin with? Why don’t these rabbis give the disclaimer that the conversion they are about to perform is not accepted in the majority of Jewish communities? Even if these converts are told, these real issues are being dismissed as politics: “The Orthodox want power.” Liberal rabbis need to be honest with their communities and say, “Yes, we changed basic Jewish beliefs and many Jews do not agree with our unilateral changes.”

But no, instead we have the absurd spectacle of the Reform movement time and again suing in Israel’s Supreme Court, demanding “equal rights,” when the real question is about religious theology. Then the court, of which the majority of judges are secular, respond by attempting to impose Western liberal democratic values into a debate over religious ideology. Judges with little background in Jewish law, Talmud or Jewish philosophy compel their temporal vision on Jews who follow the tradition of millennia. The result is just more tension and recriminations.

These are real, tough issues, and clearly theologically unbridgeable. When one Jew says he or she truly accepts the belief of the divinity of the Torah and the other says they don’t, we are at an impasse. And only when we are honest about that impasse can we find a way to live together. Calling liberal Jews “goyim,” as some religious Knesset members have, or religious Jews “extremists out for power,” as many liberal rabbis have done, only raises those divides. Realizing that even those you cannot not agree with are Jews who care about Jewish life, respecting those differences, and looking beyond them to the spiritual dignity of each person is the only way to move forward.

I struggle with this issue daily, practicing as a rabbi following Halacha in a community where most don’t. What I have discovered is that many on the sincere and authentic quest for Judaism will take the next step and seek a proper halachic conversion, with the acceptance of Torah law and ideals. But the time has come for potential converts to know the difference between an Orthodox and non-Orthodox conversion, and for those on both sides of the issue to recognize this divide and acknowledge it for what it is and what it’s not.