I had written on this before, as part of another post, but I wanted to separate this idea out.
Here’s your brief journey into the history of Judaism for the day, courtesy The Story of Judaism, by Bernard J. Bamberger, which I pulled off the basement bookshelf (where books get exiled*), and past reading (and which may not be wholly correct, as I only skimmed the relevant sections of the Bamberger book and am relying quite a bit on my faulty memory).
(* Today my husband and I were talking about how we’d like more room in the house, but the number of years that we’d really benefit from it are comparatively few, before we’re empty nesters and can repurpose the rooms of moved-away kids. So someday, he’ll have his hobby room, and I’ll have a sewing room, and we can move the exercise equipment up from the basement, and I’ll also finally be able to buy a dozen more bookshelves, and as many books as I want without having to apply a “one-in, one-out” approach. But anyway. . . )
European Jews in the Middle Ages, as you likely know, did not have an easy time of it, what with getting blamed for the Black Death, and periodically getting expelled from one country or dukedom or another, whenever the ruler wanted to default on loans. Ultimately large numbers of Jews were welcomed to Poland and Eastern Europe, but, in general, Jews were second-class citizens, or, rather, not even citizens at all, and subject to various restrictions and, in many cities, confined to ghettoes, from which they could travel freely, but were subject to curfews.
And this state of affairs continued into the early modern period — the essentials of life were not much changed for Jews, in such a way that, in terms of European Jewish history, the “middle ages” is considered to extend to the 18th century, when the Enlightenment, the development of modern nation states, the politics of the Napoleonic era, and other factors combined together to bring about a movement of what was called “Jewish Emancipation,” in which, country by country, Jews received full citizenship rights.
And throughout the early 19th century, a reform movement began in Jewish practice and theology, primarily in Germany, which became known as the “Jewish Enlightenment.” In some respects, this was born of the same desire to assimilate, as also marked a marked trend towards Jews choosing baptism.
The initial reform movement was led by laypeople, and one of the starting points was a movement towards modern education for children. Part and parcel with the attainment of citizenship rights in their countries was an acceptance that they were, in fact, not citizens of Israel in exile, longing to return, so one of the first reforms was to remove prayers that referenced this desire, as well as the hope for a messiah to come. Services were modernized, with the local language rather than Hebrew, and with organ-based hymns, the invention of a Confirmation ceremony for boys and girls, and even moving services to Sundays. (When keeping Kosher and the strict Sabbath rules were abandoned, I don’t see with my quick skim.)
To quote Bamberger, “in the spirit of the Enlightenment, it was asserted that the essence of religion is the belief in God, human freedom, and immortality, and the practice of the moral law. Ceremonial is of secondary importance.” (p. 267)
Bamberger later says, “Writers often distinguish two stages in the history of German Reform Judaism — the early period, when laymen took the lead in modifying the externals of worship; and the second period, guided by rabbis, who dealt with more fundamental issues” — that is, developing a theology that allowed Jews to still “be Jewish” despite these innovations.
The initial project was go to back to the Talmud and other sources to find interpretations that supported their new innovations, but new ways of understanding Scripture came to the fore (as for Christians, who began to abandon a literal interpretation of Genesis somewhere along the way, too). The scholar Dr. Abraham Geiger was key here. Here are the key paragraphs:
Instead of one fixed and changeless revelation at Sinai, Geiger proclaimed a progressive revelation, which continues to the present in the discoveries of science and the insights of wise men. The Bible and Talmud are glorious and permanently valuable records of an early and decisive stage in this process. But since the revelation came from God through men, all the documents of revelation are a mixture of the divine and the human, of the eternally valid and of the temporary and transient. Judaism is a living, growing organism, evolving gradually from earlier and more primitive forms to the full flowering of its universal spiritual message.
Central and changeless is the belief in the one and holy God, who is to be served through righteousness and mercy. God’s law is basically ethical; ritual and ceremony, as the prophets declared long ago, are not the essence of the religion. Moreover, historical study reveals that ceremonial practice has been constantly subject to change. Ritual is, indeed, not without value: it is a means of making religious truth more vivid and inspiring to the worshipper. But the forms are not sacrosanct. If they fail to instruct and uplift those who practice them — still more if they repel or disgust — they may be modified or discarded. (p. 281).
You can see what I’m getting at by now, can’t you?
Islam is often said to “need a Reformation,” but that’s not really correct. The Protestant Reformation was intended to return to “true” Christianity and discard all of the “innovations” of the Catholics; the Catholic/Counter-Reformation was more oriented around revitalization, elimination of corruption, and the education of the laity. It is, in fact, often said that Islam has indeed already had a “Reformation” — that what is happening now in the Islamic world, and has been happening for some time, a return to greater strictness, implementation of Islamic legal codes, and so forth, is an attempt to return to a “pure” Islam of a millenium ago.
What Islam really needs is an “Enlightenment” such as Judaism experienced, as the genesis of Reform Judaism, and Christianity experienced in a less pronounced way that led to modern concepts of religious freedom and a more modern understanding of scripture (e.g., a non-literal reading) for most Christian denominations, and an abandonment of even more of “traditional Christianity” for a few groups (endorsing gay marriage and abortion, and questioning the divinity of Christ).
Now, of course, how to get from here to there is another question. In the Middle East, this is made all the more difficult because Islam, being the state religion, has state-controlled governing bodies which effectively control theological interpretation. Perhaps it’s up to reform-minded, enlightenment-minded Muslims in the United States and in Europe (again, I will remind readers that I’m taking the approach that such Muslims do exist, though their numbers may be in doubt), to come together as one unified group, rather than working at the margins.
So now I’ve said pretty much everything I have to say, and will go back to sulking at being prevented from commenting at National Review, and more generally, trying to figure out, as usual, how to communicate my thoughts the outside world.
UPDATE: the Chicago Tribune, on Sunday, had a report on local Muslim leaders’ and parents’ attempts to keep their children on the straight and narrow and away from hate-spewing “Internet sheikhs.” There’s no easy answer, but the article describes these Muslims’ past practice of simply avoiding, not explaining the “arcane” passages advocating war which Islamists now use to recruit to their cause. It’s hard to summarize here, but there seems to be a general approach of saying, “you have to understand the context behind these verses” and an insistence that these local leaders, not internet sites, have the authority to pass on their interpretation.
AlQaisi said the mosque and school rolled out a campaign, urging youths to bring their questions to him or a dozen other scholars in the community instead of Google. Not only does that guarantee children will get authentic answers in an American context, it keeps the lines of communication open and preserves the “chain of narration,” the traditional transmission of Islam from person to person since the time of Prophet Muhammad, he said.
It all just feels as if they haven’t worked out a comprehensive theology that explains to the next generation why they interpret verses the way they do, other than a version of “because we said so” that gets easily trumped.