“There seems to be a lot of talk that non-Orthodox Judaism is Chillul Hashem. Is Hashem angry?”
–D.B., London, U.K.
That’s a great question—and one with a messy answer.
First off, let’s come to an understanding about what Chillul Hashem actually means. In Vayikra (Leviticus) 22:31-33, following an extensive legal document that dictates the terms of the relationship between God and Israel, God explains through Moses that Israel is not only to adhere to specific commandments, but is to avoid certain actions as well—chief among them the profaning of God’s name, either by word or by deed.
In essence, God’s name and honor become tied to the integrity of Israel, so that if one is compromised, the other is likewise compromised. The reverse is equally true: Kiddush Hashem is the elevation of God’s name and, by association, the people with whom God made a covenant. Good so far? Excellent.
How does one desecrate God’s name? Since the commandment comes toward the conclusion of Leviticus (22 chapters into a 27-chapter document), it’s safe to say that God has essentially tied the glory of God’s name to the acts of holiness outlined in the agreement. These acts permeate all the spheres of life: sexual, psychological, healthful, ethical, political, and social. In short, God’s name remains holy as God’s people maintain the stipulations of the social contract. To deviate is to profane the sacred.
In that case, what of reforms? Has Israel abandoned its initial contract to the detriment of God’s name?
If so, this is a phenomenon across the historical and denominational board, as Jewish history has shown us a wide range and scope of liturgical, theological, philosophical and practical changes in Judaism throughout the centuries. While fundamental elements of Jewish life remain intact after ages, one generation’s heresy is another’s dogma. From Maimonides to the advent of Chasidism, entire lines of thought have been rejected as dangerous and volatile, compromising the integrity of Torah, Israel—and by default, God—only to be embraced in subsequent years. Maimonides, whose “Moreh Nevuchim” (“The Guide for The Perplexed”) and “Sefer haMadda” (“Book of Knowledge”) were once burned by fellow Jewish scholars, is now among the most respected thinkers in history; his work is well-regarded within and without Orthodox Judaism. The early Chasidic Jews (a largely poor and uneducated rural group) was placed under cherem (ban of excommunication) by the Mitnagdim (literally, the Opponents, a more wealthy and better educated group with more presence in urban areas) is now one of the most widely recognized forms of Jewish practice.
But this in itself doesn’t answer the question, which is specifically related to the liberal Jewish movements (Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist, Renewal, etc.). Let the record show that the ideas espoused by many of these movements may not be so radical. Many have in fact renewed interest in ancient, traditional Jewish philosophy and deed. However, other changes—from a different perspective on mitzvot to, in some cases, the reimagining of human sexuality, gender and the family model—have many concerned that liberal Judaism has gone too far.
Whether or not the liberals have collectively failed to understand some of the fundamental tenets of Judaism—if it can even be said that these various factions think collectively—doesn’t automatically indicate that Chillul Hashem has occurred. From certain Jewish legal perspectives, Chillul Hashem takes place when a Jew leaves his or her religion for another, engages in unethical sexual practices or commits murder. For Maimonides, Chillul Hashem occurs when a Jew fails to recite the Shema. Other more modern commentators argue that Chillul Hashem can be produced from even the smallest of offenses, like being rude to a neighbor or getting caught in a white lie, to the greater offenses catalogued above. In a broader sense, it can probably be agreed that Chillul Hashem occurs when the presence of God, or God’s honor, is somehow reduced or wounded through the actions of Jews.
Do the liberal streams commit this last interpretation through their modernized, often liberalized mode of Jewish expression?
The short, easy answer is no, as precedents for exploring, questioning, or even changing the Jewish legal code exist in great numbers.
The long answer is maybe. If reevaluating Torah and Jewish law means disregarding Torah and Jewish law entirely, then that is certainly tragic and could fit the traditional definition of Chillul Hashem. To wrestle with God as Jacob did, to grapple with the places where traditional Judaism and new observations about our world intersect, is consistent with the very spirit of Israel itself. However, to take ritual, liturgical or spiritual shortcuts from lack of sincerity, to avoid wrestling with God at all, and instead take a different path through the night, is very much Chillul Hashem.
But the fault doesn’t lie with the existence of liberal Judaism itself, but with the attitudes of individual Jews across imaginary denominational lines. From a legal perspective, I can’t find an instance where an entire group of people commit Chillul Hashem by virtue of existing in tandem together, nor through merely attempting to better understand the covenant. Individuals commit the sin, not denominations. Yes, a cherem has in the past been made on a sect or movement, but that act is tied more closely to how individual sects relate to one another, a process of distinction-making, not necessarily a desecration of the name of God. Moreover, this excommunication process has almost entirely been discontinued, even among the staunchest of Jewish legal experts. (The occasional, unfortunate conversion revocation notwithstanding.)
To answer your question more simply: God’s name is honored when we engage with God. Ignoring God, or disregarding Torah, or failing to fulfill an individual’s sincere understanding of ritual: These are shameful, and far lesser offenses have been designated Chillul Hashem. But it also doesn’t mean that adapting Jewish law is an inherent sin either. I don’t believe Hashem gets angry at the first sign of social change, or by our attempts to secure greater equality for others, often a central premise of liberal Judaism. If so, Hashem has been angry since the beginning of time. But this perspective sells God short.
Moreover, to unfairly accuse another Jew of Chillul Hashem, or to propose a cherem unjustly, is itself a grave sin, as Maimonides reminds us. For Jews on the journey, particularly as the Diaspora learns and celebrates Jewish identity anew following one of the darkest periods of our history, love and patience should be the order of the day, not inter-denominational feuding.
Hopefully that helps. As an independent Jew myself, with a non-traditional background, I understand the deep-seated emotions that often come into play when discussing something like this. Continue to explore the answers, and feel free to ask another question.
John Wofford is a junior at Aquinas College in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He is the current editor of an upcoming interfaith arts hub, a Neo-Hasidic nerd and music journalist of five years. His column, The Godblogger, appears here on alternating Thursdays.
If you have a question you’d like answered in the next column, post it in the comments below for consideration.
