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How Disruption Shaped Jewish History: Rabbi Stanley Davids and Dr. Leah Hochman on ‘Re-forming Judaism’

Rabbi Stanley M. Davids and Leah Hochman, PhD, are coeditors of Re-forming Judaism: Moments of Disruption in Jewish Thought, recently published by CCAR Press. In this interview, they discuss the book’s development, the unique topics addressed by contributors, and the future of Judaism.

What was the inspiration behind Re-forming Judaism?  

Rabbi Stanley Davids: I am proud of my place within Reform Judaism, but I remain amazed and frustrated that so many of our people, lay and professional alike, don’t really understand how we fit within the flow of Jewish history. It is in the very DNA of Judaism to be able to encounter the shifts and changes in religious thought and within the lands where we live—and to dramatically reposition Judaism. The status quo was always a potential death knell; flexibility, creativity, and devotion to our core values allowed us to rise above both physical and intellectual rubble and to move our mission forward. When I found a true partner in Leah Hochman, I knew that we could craft a message that would have significant value and resonance.

Dr. Leah Hochman: Stan has long been interested in the multiple paths by which Jews and Judaism have come to be where and how they are. The book is his brainchild; he put together an exploratory committee of really smart people to think through some of the ways Jews tell the story of intellectual growth (and decline). Using disruptions in Jewish religious thought as a framework brought the project together. Nothing in history happens in a straight line; Judaism’s (and Jews’) ability to pivot, re-form, respond, and grow has ensured its vibrancy and continuance.

What was the editing process like? Did you learn anything new from working on this book?

SD: Our wonderful collection of authors represented widely diverse fields of expertise. They had a true passion for their subject matter. The editing process was at times quite grueling. We had to reduce the chapters to an acceptable size. We had to point out where many of our potential readers would not have the skill set to understand technical allusions. We knew that we were creating a book that did not have to be read chapter by chapter, but still, the chapters had to be in conversation with each other. I treasure what I learned—and the inspiration that I gained—from each chapter and from each author.

LH: We were extraordinarily lucky that so many talented thinkers were not only interested in the project, but were generous with their participation in its completion. Stan and I, along with the deeply committed CCAR Press editorial team, met several times to think through the organization of the book, who might contribute, and how to ensure a balance of topics, authors, and themes. The entire process occurred during the COVID shutdowns—pre-vaccine to post-Omicron—and was marked by disruptions of illness, personal loss, and changes in the CCAR office. I learned that Stan is a fierce champion of what matters and that persistence requires a whole lot of effort. It was a long haul, but thankfully, also an enormously fruitful one.

Are there any disruptions discussed in the book that readers may find surprising?

SD: I can speak only for myself, not for our readers. Surprising? So many. How the Torah emerged as a massive response to disruption. How Pauline Christianity helped shape post-Churban (destruction of the Second Temple) Judaism. How the world of Sephardim confronted very different disruptions—and thus shaped a culture quite different from the world of the Ashkenazim. How an understanding of the dynamics of gender and of synagogue music was dramatically enhanced by our own camp movements. And how adaptations to previous disruptions must be carefully studied so that we can navigate tomorrow’s world.

LH: I think all of them are surprising! I have learned an enormous amount from each of these chapters—they zero in on precise moments of growth and adaptation and unpack those moments to showcase how ingeniously our forebearers have created and preserved a sense of Jewish purpose and intentionality. Stephen Smith’s article on Holocaust witness testimony might be the most immediately surprising, but honestly, there is something for everyone in these essays.

Why is it important that we, as Jews, understand the various disruptions that have gotten us to this point in our history?

SD: Disruptions keep on coming. Sometimes they are products of natural disasters. Sometimes they are products of radical internal challenges to how we interface with the non-Jewish world. Sometimes they are the product of radical shifts in how the Western world understands the meaning and purpose of existence. Sometimes they arise as responses to horrible wars and to brutal assaults against us. We cannot understand who we are and where we are going if we cannot understand how we got “here” from “there.”

LH: We are currently living in a time period of deep concretization of story—such and such happened, in so and so way, and that’s that. And we are deepening the trenches between multiple versions of similar stories. I think it’s crucial for all of us to remember that we have choices in how we respond to the disruptions of today and that we can learn a lot from a careful and thoughtful look at our pasts.


What disruptions are we experiencing today?

LH: What a question! It feels ineffective to call the October 7 massacre, and the ongoing war in Gaza, a disruption. We had barely understood our losses from the pandemic and the full nature of the threats to individual autonomy in the US, when American Jewry needed to shift its focus to the crises in Israel and the exponential rise in antisemitism here. The twenty-first century has been wildly disruptive in virtually every way.

SD: October 7 is a disruption that will reshape Israeli understandings of themselves, American Jewish understandings of ourselves, and what Israel will mean to us tomorrow. The political climate in America represents a massive shift in Jewish comfort in this, our home. We are being forced to confront a resurgent antisemitism, along with a sense that we are being marginalized from groups and communities that once were our greatest allies. Denominationalism is rapidly diminishing as a key factor differentiating one Jewish community from another. The role and purpose of synagogues and the notion of a discipline of worship are fading. Cross-generational commitment to what once was considered normative is weakening. And here’s the key point: history teaches us that we have no idea as to what major disruptions lie just beyond the corner. We dare not confront such uncertainties unprepared. This book is both a warning and an enormous source of hope.


Rabbi Stanley M. Davids is rabbi emeritus of Temple Emanu-El of Greater Atlanta. Leah Hochman, PhD, directs the Louchheim School for Judaic Studies at the University of Southern California and is an associate professor at Hebrew Union College–Jewish Institute of Religion. Rabbi Davids and Dr. Hochman are coeditors of Reforming Judaism: Moments of Disruption in Jewish Thought (CCAR Press, 2023).

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CCAR Convention General CCAR Israel Rabbis Reform Judaism

Celebrating the Class of 1965: Shaping What Tomorrow Will Bring

At the upcoming CCAR Convention, we will honor the class of 1965, those who have been CCAR members and served our movement for 50 years. In the weeks leading up to convention, we will share and celebrate the rabbinic visions and wisdom of these members of the class of 1965 and their 50 years in the rabbinate. 

As with all of my jubilee classmates, life has brought me much undeserved joy: Resa, my life partner who shares with me a nurturing, forgiving, healing, joyous love; children for whom I am still a desired part of their world; grandchildren who regularly turn to me with challenging questions and unsolicited hugs; and a career of meaningful, often satisfying sacred service, rich with human interactions.

As with most us, life has also brought me much undeserved pain: sitting by my young mother’s bedside, helpless before the malignancy that was consuming her brain; confronting a professional failure that challenged my too fragile self-worth; bearing the agonizing burden of deciding whether my sister should be administered sufficient morphine to quiet her pain, morphine that would also stop her heart; trying to internalize what it meant, what it really meant, when for over ten years – every six months — my physicians would tell me that I had only three more months to live.

In the pursuit of meaning in the presence of such a mixed bag of life experiences, I have dedicated my rabbinate to the Jewish People. It wasn’t a conscious choice. It just happened. I came alive to our world in the ’60’s; I embraced the anti-war movement while still in uniform; I entered into the struggle by African Americans for human and civil rights; feminism; choice – yet through all of that I found myself inexorably drawn to my people’s right and obligation to secure its own future. The Six Day War. The Soviet Jewry Movement. The birth and flowering of Reform Zionism. High school kids at Kutz. College kids. Israel. The Aliyah that Resa and I embraced as full partners.

For four decades as a congregational rabbi and now for one decade as a retiree – the meaningful survival and evolution of the Jewish people have been at the center of my day-to-day concerns. Over the years that struggle became a unifying theme around which I could organize my thoughts and actions. Even today, even now, it ignites within me hope and purpose. To put it simply, that struggle keeps me alive. Perhaps it is not the most worthy of causes, but it infuses my being with a shot of metaphorical adrenaline.

Maybe that is why I find myself today still trying to shape our people’s tomorrows. Maybe that is why so many of my classmates have made similar choices in their own ways, in their own lives: refusing to give up on trying to have an impact on the future.

It’s not that I see better or know more than anybody else. I know that I don’t. But I believe based upon what I have seen and learned and experienced that the survival of Israel as a Jewish democratic state is a sine qua non for the survival of North American Jewry, even as the reverse is equally true. And that belief for me is a mandate for meaningful action.

So when I received a call from a close colleague and friend in early January, asking me to help him raise some funds quickly so that he could effectively compete for a position on the Labor slate in the forthcoming Knesset elections, I could not refuse. That election has a real possibility of overturning what I consider to be an intransigent government incapable of launching positive initiatives which might, just might, move us closer to a two state solution. If a new government is formed this Spring linking parties of the political right with the ultra-orthodox parties, many of the recent ground-breaking achievements in easing the stranglehold of the Rabbinate over matters of personal status and life cycle events will be reversed. To shape the future, outspoken advocates for religious pluralism like my friend are needed by the Knesset. There is a job demanding to be done. I tried to help.

Elections for the World Zionist Congress are currently on-going. A victory for ARZA in these elections will pour more than $20 million into the activities of the IMPJ and the Hebrew Union College over the next five years. Israeli Reform Judaism now tracks support from more than 7% of the population. We are growing, evolving, changing. We offer new definitions as to what a synagogue could be; we demonstrate how the manner in which we treat the stranger in our midst helps determine our relationships with an increasingly hostile world. With a western understanding of democracy and with a liberal and embracing vision of Jewish identity both embedded in our Reform DNA – Israel needs us to win and to win big in the Congress elections. Another job yet to be done. By us. We can still help. We are very much alive. We are relevant. We are needed.

I don’t know how many quality months or years that I have left. The door to that mystery is firmly shut. And I am painfully aware of my own personal limitations and weaknesses. But like many of my classmates, I am not yet willing to turn my back on how the future will emerge. Being in a struggle the outcome of which will not be known for many years after I am gone doesn’t diminish the vitality that I feel today because I am still engaged.

So whatever the worthy issues that command each of us: Israel or environmentalism or racism or economic justice or the strengthening of our families or writing that book that really needs to be written — we who are growing old can continue to find what Frank Bruni recently called in The New York Times, “slices of opportunity” awaiting us. So long as our hands can reach, so long as our souls can yearn and our minds can comprehend – so long can we yet have a vital role in shaping what tomorrow will bring. We who were once the future and then were the present are not ready to lay down our burdens. Not yet. Not now. We have too much to do. We are needed. You see, there is life to be lived. And we are still choosing to live it.