The Jewish Religious Union A Hundred Years On

by Rabbi John D. Rayner

'We have met here for a solemn and sacred purpose.' With these words Claude Montefiore began his address at the first service of the Jewish Religious Union on 18th October, 1902.

This too is a solemn and sacred occasion. Solemn, because centuries are a rare occurrence on this side of St John's Wood Road. Sacred, because our purpose today, as then, is a religious one. That is to say, we want to ask ourselves how God might judge the hundred years we have come here to recall and to celebrate.

Surely God's judgment would not be wholly favourable. For our founders were human and fallible and children of their age, as we are of ours, and none of us can step outside our skins. The danger of conceding too much to the Zeitgeist - the spirit of the age - is real. But so, too, is the danger of failing to take it sufficiently seriously, for through it, perchance, the Eternal God may speak to us.

We know that in our zeal for the new we have sometimes undervalued the old; that in our emphasis on ethics we have sometimes underestimated the importance of ritual; that in our enthusiasm for the universal we have sometimes paid too little attention to the particular; that in our concern for the individual we have sometimes neglected the community. And we know, too, that sometimes we have erred in the opposite directions. Sometimes we have been slow to respond to new developments in Jewish history, such as the creation of the State of Israel, and in human thought, such as post-modernism, and sometimes we have embraced them too uncritically.

Today, in retrospect, we confess our errors, and from the One whose judgment alone matters, we ask forgiveness.

Nevertheless, there is cause for sober satisfaction. In many ways, the story we have come here to recall is a success story. It was not a foregone conclusion when the JRU was founded that it would be. Our detractors decried it as misconceived and predicted that it would fail, and even our founders were only cautiously optimistic. As Montefiore went on to say, ‘Whether the religious services, of which the first is being held today, will prove, according to the stereotyped phrase, a success, we do not know. How long they may endure, we cannot tell. Humbly and reverently ... we dedicate them to God.’

A hundred years later I think we may claim, equally humbly and reverently, that the venture has succeeded. At least it has stood the test of time. In Jewish, tradition, it has been jocularly said, a foetus is not considered viable until it passes its law exams. Surely a religious movement may be considered viable when it passes its centenary.

Not only have we survived, but we have grown from small beginnings to a union of thirty congregations with a membership of ten thousand and a host of activities. And though our numbers have remained more or less static for some years, we have at least maintained ourselves in a demographically declining community and therefore continued to grow as a proportion of it.

What is more important, our Movement has succeeded in retaining or regaining the loyalty to Judaism of countless individuals and families who, without it, might have drifted beyond its gravitational pull. Far from being a force for assimilation, as its enemies used to allege, it has proved itself to be a goder peretz a 'repairer of the breach' (Isa. 58:12), a restorer of the fractured or attenuated relationship between the Jewish people and their heritage. In the great majority of cases, when people have joined our synagogues, the effect on them has been to strengthen, not, Heaven forbid, to weaken their Jewish commitment.

What is perhaps even more important, our Movement has exerted a considerable influence on Anglo-Jewry as a whole, and beyond. Many of the positions it has taken have come to be accepted far beyond its borders.

Take, for instance, Bible Criticism, that is, the study of ancient Jewish history and literature by the methods of modern scholarship. A hundred years ago Claude Montefiore was virtually the only Jew in this country to take it seriously and to draw from it the inescapable conclusion that Scripture comprises both eternal truths and antiquated notions. Today only fundamentalists deny that this is true, and only obscurantists deny that it is important.

Or take the hope that at some future time the Temple with its sacrifices will be restored. This is a major motif of the traditional liturgy but one which our founders rejected in favour of the conviction that the Synagogue represents a more advanced form of worship which has permanently replaced the older form. Today prayers for the restoration of the sacrificial cult are still recited in many synagogues; in others they are modified or obscured; only in our Movement is the liberal view consistently affirmed. But if an opinion poll were conducted, surely it would show that in this matter the vast majority of Jews think as we do.

Or take the Jewish liturgy more generally. A hundred years ago it was an official dogma that Jewish worship must remain forever, unchanged. Since then we have demonstrated how it is possible to combine the best of tradition with the best of modernity: to modify inherited texts when honesty so demands, to supplement them with previously unutilised gems of Jewish literature, to write new prayers and compose new music In all these respects our example has been followed by other Progressive movements in this country and throughout the world.

Or consider the position of women. A hundred years ago they were strictly debarred from equal participation with men in Jewish worship. The JRU, from its inception, introduced mixed seating; and its first synagogue, the LJS, almost from the beginning, allowed women to preach and read. Since then we have taken other steps to grant women equality with men in synagogue worship and marriage law. In most of these respects the Reform movement has followed our example. But other branches of Anglo-Jewry are still debating whether women may sit on synagogue councils and vote in synagogue affairs.

Can there be a shadow of a doubt that in all these matters we have done what will sooner or later come to be generally seen to have been right? Surely, then, Liberal Judaism, has abundantly vindicated itself. Surely we are entitled to look back on our first century as a success story.

But if that is so, we need to ask, what have been the causes of our success? For on the answer our continuing success will crucially depend. Let me suggest four causes.

First, the JRU was from the outset a religious movement. Its founders were religiously motivated. Claude Montefiore and Lily Montagu especially, 'walked with God' (Gen. 6:9). God dominated their universe, and all questions, to them, were ultimately about God's will. They were not always right, but nobody who knew them, or has read their writings, can have any doubt that this is what drove them. Because they imbued the JRU with such a spirit, people were drawn to it.

Secondly, the JRU was, as its name also implies, a Jewish movement. Its founders were very zealous for Judaism. True, they believed that Judaism would grow and develop in the future, as it had in the past. But they never doubted that it was the truest and best of all religions, and that the contribution it had to make to the religion of humanity was vitally important. That is why they did what they did. As Montefiore said in his inaugural sermon (probably in allusion to the rabbinic phrase, shev v'al ta'aseh, Eruv. 100a) 'it would have been much easier to sit still and do nothing'.

Thirdly, the JRU was a union. It did not seek to impose uniformity, but accommodated a broad range of options in belief and practice, and generated a spirit of mutual understanding, respect and friendship transcending individual differences. And on the whole that spirit has endured. Of course we have had our episodes of turbulence. But we have remained a united movement. Come to our residential conferences and you will experience a spirit of camaraderie, even a family atmosphere, which is perhaps unique in Anglo-Jewry.

In all three respects, therefore, we have remained a JRU: Jewish, Religious and a Union. But pervading all of them, and inseparable from there, is a fourth quality which has from the beginning distinguished our Movement, and that is integrity.

Integrity is inseparable from religion, for, as the Rabbis said, chotamo shel ha­-kadosh baruch hu emet, 'the very signature of God is truth' (Shab. 55a). Nobody understood that better than Claude Montefiore. As he said in a famous sermon, 'There can be no truth which is not Divine, there can be no falsehood which is Divine' (Truth in Religion, 1906, p. 3).

Integrity is also inseparable from Judaism. For how can we affirm Judaism unless our understanding of it is in harmony with what we believe to be true, and how can we practice it unless what we practice is in harmony with what we believe? In Judaism, as in any religion, honesty is paramount. Who may dwell on God's holy mountain? Only those, says the Psalmist, 'who speak the truth in their hearts' (15:2).

Integrity is also inseparable from unity. Precisely because we insist on the right and duty of every individual to seek the truth, we accept the diversity of perceptions which, given the diversity of human beings, is the inevitable consequence. And ‘unity in diversity' is what the 'U’ in JRU stands for.

Integrity was perhaps the outstanding quality of our founders. They imprinted it deeply on our Movement, and we have tried, more or less consistently, to maintain it ever since. It is our greatest asset, and if we wish our Movement to endure, we had better be careful not to fritter it away. As Rabbi Israel Mattuck said in his Induction sermon at the LJS in 1912, 'To sacrifice principle to conformity would jeopardise our cause'.

The temptation to do so is ever present: to follow fashion; to swim with the stream; to court popularity; to play to the gallery; to swallow scruples for political gain. All these temptations we must resist, fully knowing and fully accepting the cost. For integrity is not cheap. It may involve refusing a request or declining a gift. It may cause us to be misunderstood and misrepresented It may entail accepting a lower rate of numerical growth than we should have wished. It may mean remaining a minority for a long time to come, or even forever. That too is a price we must be willing to pay, for it is better to be few and right than to be many and wrong.

An ancient rabbi taught: Kol k'nesiyyah she-hi l'shern shamayim, sofah l'hitkayyem, 'Any assembly that is convened for God's sake will ultimately vindicate itself' (Avot 4:11.). In centennial retrospect, I think we may safely say that what took place in the Wharncliffe Rooms of the Great Central Hotel on 18th October 1902 was such an assembly. That is why we are here today, and it we remain faithful to that spirit there will be many more anniversaries for us and for our children, and children's children to celebrate in times to come. Ken y'hi ratzon Please God, and let us say: Amen.

Rabbi Rayner is the Hon. Life President of the ULPS and Emeritus Rabbi of The Liberal Jewish Synagogue

This sermon was given on Sunday 20th October 2002 at the Centenary Service of Liberal Judaism in the UK and Ireland at The Liberal Jewish Synagogue, St. John's Wood, London