My Personal Statement

I believe in Judaism. I admit that this might seem to be a strange choice of words at first read, but they are the truest for me. Usually you’ll hear about someone practicing Judaism, or believing in God, and I do both of those things, too. I have chosen these words—that I believe in Judaism—carefully. I believe in Judaism the way that loving parents believe in their infant children—and, similarly, it’s likely that Judaism has and will continue to shape me far more than I have or will shape it. I believe that Judaism—this complex civilization of tastes artistic and culinary, of sounds folksy and operatic, of thoughts playful and philosophical, of laws binding and loosely guiding, of languages dead and living and resurrected, and of people of myriad homelands, heritages, ages, politics and abilities—has limitless potential to change the world for good.

At first, I wanted to be a rabbi because I loved studying my civilization. There were of course the added benefits of being able to be intimately involved with the lives of families and enjoy meaningful moments, good and bad, with them. These, though, were only extras. I craved being immersed in the textual study of my people whether it was the study of texts from my tradition or modern Jewish thought or scholarly analysis from the modern day. I needed to know as much as I could, because somewhere, hidden within these words, was my vision for the perfect Judaism; if I could study enough perhaps I’d find that perfectly balanced equation for Jewish life: just the right amount of halakhah, just the right amount of deviation from it, just the right course our community should plot toward a redemptive future worthy of the descriptions of Amos, Micah, and Isaiah. Then I spent five years in rabbinical school, and since then a few years in the field, and I learned a few things that have completely changed my perspective.

First, that a Judaism of integrity and beauty can’t be achieved by the power of intellect alone. Judaism needs to be chosen, acted out, lived in the most physical sense. Jewishness demands your intentionality, that you raise your standards and act out your values, and that you love life and show respect and decency to the people you’ll meet while living it. It’s not a thought experiment.

Second, that the question of “which came first, chicken or egg?” is an absolute fallacy—both in its own terms and when applied to Judaism. Judaism is evolving. It has been in dynamic shift and flux since its earliest days. There have always been pulls to the right and to the left, and an individual Jew can no more completely alter its course than an individual member of a species can alter the course of evolution. We are all on a journey toward our own most authentic Jewish expression, and our community is on the same journey as a collective.

Third, that we should all embrace the Talmudic aphorism “Teach your tongue to say: ‘I don’t know.’” I have discovered that the most important attributes for every student of Judaism are humility and curiosity. There is so much I don’t know but want to, and, if I let them, my tradition and its many teachers will guide me toward the right path. My conversations with kids, teens, conversion students, congregant families, sick people, grief-burdened folks and our non-Jewish community members and neighbors have all reified for me the old cliché: “The more I learn the less I know.”

            My idea of being a rabbi has moved from being the expert in the room who is immersed in Torah, to being a guide for others who strive to master the art of saying “I don’t know.” Those interpersonal elements that I once considered to be the perks on the side of a rabbinic career have been radically shifted toward the center of my focus. The core of my rabbinate is about being there for people in their moments of deepest questioning of God, of life, of truth; helping to empower my people to create community thereby amplifying our impact on the course our people plots into the future; using everything I am—all the music, the philosophy, the goofiness, the seriousness, the enthusiasm, the love—to help bring Judaism to life for the members of my community in its fullest capacity, because I believe in it. I believe in Judaism.