The theology of conservative Judaism

Judaism, Spring, 1998 by Arnold Jacob Wolf

Our military victory over the Nazis prevented the collapse of democratic civilization in the face of an imminent threat of one form of totalitarianism. That victory has not eliminated the peril arising from another and stronger form of totalitarianism. But it has given to the free peoples a breathing spell, to lay the foundations for permanent, continuous growth of peace and freedom throughout the world. . . . The straggle to make the word safe for democracy is now transferred in fact from the battlefields to our own consciences. . . . This is the task which falls, with especial weight, on the religious leaders of America - Catholic, Protestant, and Jewish.

Alas, it is too late to try to stop the galloping catastrophe once it has covered itself with the cloak of patriotism, glory, and idealism. Therefore I do not have to tell you, dear colleagues, that the place to change the course of human events is not in the chancelleries of the world, but in the homes, the schools, and the houses of worship. . . . Your task and mine, it seems to me, is to initiate the kind of thought, study, and religious development which would make such an approach to the problems of life not a dream, but a reality. Let us begin then with the consideration of our central institution - the Seminary - as a potential moral force in the world. (II, pp. 190 95.)

The Seminary itself was the center of concern. Faculty and Administration were deeply concerned about moral issues, provided they had no partisan political implications. The United States was not to be only one of two foci of the Jewish spirit. Israeli-centeredness was neither permissible nor thinkable, except in romantic terms.

We at the Seminary regard ourselves and American Jewry neither as one of the foci of a great ellipse of Judaism nor the center of a circle, with only mystic connections with a similar circle surrounding Jerusalem. We recognize that we stand on the periphery of Jewish inspiration; and if we are content with our position, it is only because we believe that the service we can render God, Torah, and mankind from this stance is one to which we have been called and which we cannot neglect. Yet always we turn to Zion not only in prayer but also in the hope of instruction. We gladly assume the role of amanuensis to our brethren who have been given the superior privilege of serving God and studying Torah in the land in which both were uniquely revealed. If the experiences we have garnered in our efforts . . . may prove of some use, they are at the disposal of our masters and teachers in Israel and Zion. If we can labor with them toward a solution of the vast human problem, that in itself will be a privilege. (II, pp. 195f.)

This seems like false modesty. All that one could say for certain was that the school and the movement were not Reform (definitely) and not Orthodox (but always more authentic than Orthodoxy).

Chapter 29 deals with the crucial question of Halakha. The Seminary was committed to acceptance of Halakhic standards of observance and interpretation. Students were monitored for strict Sabbath observance and were carefully disciplined in Kashrut. In the forties, a student I know was rejected for admission unless his parents would begin to maintain a kosher home; he was offered money to make their kitchen strictly acceptable.