WASHINGTON — It’s Shabbat, the seventh day of the creation. At the start of the Jewish equivalent of the Catholic sermon, the “adjunct” rabbi warned the congregation that the discussion he would lead might not be proper for children’s ears.
The toddlers were in another room. When none of the few kids who looked like pre-adolescents left the synagogue, the rabbi began the discussion on whether sex outside marriage could be permissible under certain circumstances, in contravention of God’s commandment against adultery. He cited surveys showing the high percentage of American men who admit to cheating on their wives.
For example, if a woman suffers from a degenerative illness that is sexually incapacitating, and it lasts for years with little hope for a cure, will she allow her husband to have sex with someone else even as he continues to take care of her? Such questions are relevant, the rabbi noted, as people live longer and feel they must satisfy their needs after many years of sacrifice.
Several members of the congregation took turns giving their views. A man pointed out that strictly speaking, adultery is committed only with a married woman. The members raised their hands, stood up when recognized, and spoke through a microphone. Most of the women thought that regardless of the circumstances, it was still betrayal, and even some of the men said if a man wanted sex outside marriage, he should just divorce his wife.
At the end of the discussion, the rabbi, whose wife was present, concluded that in his opinion, marital infidelity or adultery is wrong, but is permissible under certain circumstances. His conclusion is not binding on the congregation.
It was the Sabbath Service of the Adat Shalom Reconstructionist Congregation, located in an upscale neighborhood in Bethesda, Maryland.
The weekly service lasted more than two hours, but there was never a boring moment. Maybe the novelty of attending a Jewish Service and entering a synagogue for the first time kept me fascinated.
The congregation adhered to tradition, and yet the discourse was thoroughly modern. I was told that it was not a typical Jewish Service, but then the congregation would not be called reconstructionist if it practiced traditional Judaism. The members were interpreting the teachings of an ancient faith and applying it to daily life in the United States.
It was not just the free exchange of informed ideas that struck me, but also the active participation of women in the Service. A woman with a voice that reminded me of Barbara Streisand served as cantor. No musical instruments were used, but the songs were lovely and moving, like the music in one of my favorite movies, “Fiddler on the Roof.” The songs reverberated in the spacious synagogue on Persimmon Tree Lane, which was built through funds contributed by the congregation. The members are mostly from a wealthy neighborhood, and clearly highly educated, as shown in the level of discourse.
Cantor Rachel Anne Hersh presided over much of the ritual, which was partly in Hebrew. Other women assisted her throughout, from reading passages in the equivalent of their Holy Book to taking out the Torah and then putting it back.
After the service, the congregation gathered for lunch. Each member is required not just to pay dues to the congregation but also to tithe, and contribute to Shabbat lunch about twice a year. Every food contributed must of course be kosher. For last Saturday’s lunch, the congregation shared with visitors vegetable salad, bagels, chocolate cake and other sweets.
Adat Shalom welcomes visitors from all faiths. The Muslims in our group observed that there were many similarities in their religious traditions with those of the Jews, including the requirements for preparing and choosing kosher food (halal in Islam).
Among the Muslims in our group is an Iranian journalist who resettled in New York after being put behind bars by the repressive regime in his country. Another is an Indonesian, whose country does not recognize Israel, but at least unlike Teheran, Jakarta is not calling for the annihilation of the Jewish state.
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American Jews tend to be wealthy, highly educated and organized, although like Christians, they have many denominations. But they have a strong sense of their Jewish identity, and they wield strong political, intellectual and cultural clout in this country.
US support for Israel, especially in national security, is often invoked by Islamic extremists in their attacks. The funds raised by Jewish congregations including Adat Shalom go not only to charities but also to efforts supporting Israel. There is a strong umbilical cord connecting Jews worldwide, arising from centuries of being oppressed, which culminated in the Holocaust.
After attending the Sabbath Service, I visited the Holocaust Museum here for the first time. Most of the images I have already seen in film documentaries and books, and I am familiar with the story of the Jewish diaspora. But these made the Holocaust exhibit no less horrific. It depicted pure evil, and it was even more depressing than the museum dedicated to the bombing of Hiroshima. The only group that could come close to the Nazis in inhumanity was Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge, but even Cambodia’s mass murderers were no match for Adolf Hitler’s racial exterminators.
That kind of shared suffering makes the targeted community unusually tight-knit, and defensive of their settlement in the Promised Land. But while they believe in the Jewish state’s right to exist, members of Adat Shalom said there are Jews in the US and even in Israel who also believe the Palestinians have the same right to their own land. These Jews disagree with the hawks in Tel Aviv.
They are “ba’alei she’elah: Jews with questions,” according to the Adat Shalom’s statement of principles. “Our ties to our Jewish past and our sense of the secular present often pull us in opposite directions. We seek to find ways to merge those two sensibilities while remaining true to both.”
Tradition, according to the statement, is beautiful but does not represent divinely ordained commands. “We accord tradition ‘a vote but not a veto,’ especially in matters of personal status,” the statement of principles declared.
Even if it was not traditional, that was a strongly spiritual gathering that I witnessed. Those were people trying to make sense of the modern world through the prism of an ancient faith.