Reflections on Meeting the Pope

The theme of the Pope’s visit is “heart speaks unto heart”, a reminder in the midst of all the controversy about his visit that it is about connection. Lost in the debate about whether the Pope is a good thing or not, is the simple truth that it is often easier to access the soul through the heart than through the head. As Walter Benjamin said about speech, “It does not abolish the distance between human beings but brings that distance to life.”

It feels right to support this visit because of what it promises all of us, Catholics and non-Catholics, those with a religion and those with no religion. I want this Pope to be different and challenge us – that is his strength, and our opportunity.

His meeting with religious leaders is billed as “a celebration of faith and of cooperation between the religions.” For too many political and religious leaders, all that matters is finding common ground. What matters equally is accepting some differences and working through others. The 20^th century was a century of fighting for this or that “ism”, or finding some compromise that avoids tackling the difficult issues. The 21^st century should be about understanding the other- especially in what makes the other different from us. It must also be about rediscovering the fixed points which make humanity unique. We can only do this working with and through the other.

We are blessed as a human race in having different perspectives and different traditions. Through difference comes possibility. On this basis, as a Liberal Jew, I agree with the Pope on some issues, agree to differ on others, and want to work though some issues where we could yet agree. Faith leaders need to be strategic in their relationship to believers and non-believers, and distinguish between different layers of agreement and disagreement. I agree with the Pope on tackling climate change, reducing poverty and the dangers of moral relativism. I disagree with him on equality of women and gay rights. This is the basis of a meaningful cooperation – everything else puts off genuine engagement and meaningful collaboration.

When my father landed a job in Paris when I was five years old, my first education was not at just any French school, but a Jesuit one. I was a lapsed Catholic in my twenties and thirties. I explored a broad range of spiritual and religious literature, undoubtedly inspired by contact on my professional travels with people from different cultures and backgrounds. Over time, Jewish people and Jewish stories become a connecting thread, and in my early forties, Judaism became my fixed point around which I found and created meaning.

I kept an audit of what went into my decision to become a Jew. That journey made me reflect on how I make decisions. Depending on time pressures, I came to realise that for me at least, three ways of deciding usually reached the surface in different degrees: strength of intuition- gut instinct blended with experience and emotion; rational calculation -weighing up the pros and cons, benefits and costs; and finally, a sense of deep mystery- what Einstein alluded to when he said that at the cradle of true art and science lies a "mystery".

At the rabbinic board for my conversion, perhaps to the amusement or horror of some of the rabbis, I said that there was a connection between my Jesuit education and Liberal Judaism. The different ways to read the Torah resonated with me very early on - not just because this put a value on interpretation, but what I have long felt goes on beneath and beyond interpretation. It is what accounts for the autonomy of intention, when reason is exhausted and cannot provide any answer. None of us – the Pope, Hawking, Dawkins, even Lieutenant Columbo- has cracked that mystery.

With Judaism I found a faith that was inherently questing and questioning. It allowed me to seek out and celebrate a higher self, without losing sight of the whole self- the mineral, vegetable, animal, as well as the human, and something more than human. Dawkins and others are right to say that being human is enough- more than enough. But the beauty- and invariably the ugliness- of organised religion is that a collective and social space is preserved and nurtured where we can all explore a deeper mystery.

The Pope's visit reminds me that much as life is about variety and variation, there is something profoundly welcome about our civilisation being grounded in tradition and a renewed commitment to absolutes.

Reflections on the Flotilla and Floating Supporters

The Jewish Chronicle is to be congratulated for its coverage last week of a significant article by one of the most impressive leaders of British Jewry, Mick Davis. The article was entitled, “Open debate is our best way of defending Israel in the Diaspora.” Less than a month ago, even before the Gaza flotilla incident, I said that now is the time to adopt a policy of constructive and critical engagement with Israel.

I also observed that the British Jewry has yet to cross the Rubicon, and be more open and honest about its concerns, while not feeling it is letting down its own side. Of course we cannot help but take sides: but “taking slides” is plural- there is more than one side to any argument. Yes, we need to support Israel, but we will be more effective if we relate at a human level to what is going on, and not lose ourselves in abstractions. That is why I have nothing but praise for Israel’s ambassador to the UK, Ron Prosor, in his interview with the Today Programme, when he took the trouble to strike – and keep- the right tone and acknowledge the sadness of the loss of life. His counterpart in Dublin did just the same when he held an impromptu news conference at the time. These were heartfelt positions – not bullet-points in a statements handed down from the Prime Minister’s Office. There is a time for robust defiance in press releases, and forensic factual defence of a position – but there is also a time – which is most of the time- to acknowledge our shared values. Respect for humanity is the core one. Without it, we cannot access God, let alone anybody –or anything- else. Israel only harms itself in the battle for hearts and minds by just accentuating its machine-like ruthlessness instead of emphasising its common humanity.

Mick Davis leads both UJIA and the Jewish Leadership Council, of which I am a member. The JC also carried two other reports- one on a visit to London of Ido Ahorani, an ideas-led man of action who is rethinking the development of Israel’s brand, and another on a speech by the President of the New Israel Fund, Professor Naomi Chazan. Naomi spoke of World Jewry undergoing a “progressive surge”. “I see it very strongly in the US and I feel it in Europe, “ she notes.

One of our senior vice-presidents drew my attention to Christopher Caldwell's article in the Financial Times, which, briefly summed up, argues that Israel had no choice.

It is a different point of view, and one of the more thoughtful pieces I have read. It can form part of the jigsaw that we are trying to piece together on how we as a movement can give expression to our concerns, be progressive and influence positively the debate within Jewry and with the wider public. This is an opportunity for Liberal Judaism to go beyond a sterile historic debate in its ranks about whether we are mainstream, maverick or marginal. The fact is we exist, we’re not going away, and we want to live up to universal values.

I particularly appreciated the line "If there is one attitude that some of Israel's sincerest friends share with the extremists... it is that perfection and omniscience are both to be expected from the Jewish state." If we are to move forward, we need to get beyond black-and-white assumptions about the other.

The core of the article makes a useful point that one needs to distinguish between the principle of the blockade and its enforcement. It is not surprising that sovereignty will be enforced. This is separate from questioning the merits of the blockade.

Its conclusion resonated with me, "That Israel has lost the battle for public opinion is unfortunate. More troubling is that the battle was lost before the facts of the case had even emerged".

I am engaging with the Israeli embassy to ensure that Israel taps the breadth and depth of perspectives available. When under siege, it is not surprising that a siege mentality can develop, but it makes good strategic and tactical sense not to perpetuate isolation but build constructive engagement.

Danny Rich, our Chief Executive, and I are very keen that we should create the opportunity over the next year both to highlight our ongoing commitment to Israel and to explore as a movement the more difficult issues. As a member of the Jewish Leadership Council, I want to support British Jewry to take a more strategic position. Mick Davis and its full-time supremo Jeremy Newmark understand this better than most.

A more strategic approach would in my view enable us to focus on the positive, be honest about our concerns yet engage constructively with Israel and the Diaspora.

Israel's strength and potential as a vibrant democracy and economy risk being overlooked if we unduly focus on the unresolved conflict. There is no escaping the politics, but there is a bigger picture. Israel as a brand should equal creativity and energy, not conflict.

What we need to do is ensure that this generation of leaders connects with Jews and non-Jews and does not become one that failed to take a lead when times were the most difficult and turbulent. So silence and British reserve are not the solution.

I am very concerned that we risk losing the interest and therefore the commitment of the "floating" supporter, and before we know it, Israel ends up sleepwalking into an even worse position that could have been avoided had we built bridges earlier. We have to act with both the head and the heart, and though these days it seems less fashionable to say so, with the soul. In his collection of essays and lectures, "On the Idea of Zion", Martin Buber spoke of the spiritual and political dimensions of Zion and the key relationship between God, humanity and land. It is time that we reconnected at so many more levels than the eye can see.

Liberal Judaism and "wicked" problems

A "wicked" problem in my line of business (consultancy) is defined as a problem that does not lend itself easily to a solution, and might never do. Even if a solution is possible in one area, it produces consequences which make any solution fraught with a new set of problems. It is to tackling wicked problems that I feel much of my professional life is committed. If the problem were easy, we would not need to worry about it. Maths, and a mathematical brain, can help us with a lot of problems, simple and complex, but one needs more than a mathematical brain to work on wicked problems. As one of my heroes, Einstein said, "At the cradle of great science and art lies a mystery."

With its questing and questioning disposition, Liberal Judaism is the Jewish movement which is most unabashed in working with wicked problems. Sometimes before we can have peace, let alone lasting prosperity, there must be trouble. Liberal Jews exist to make trouble, trouble-shoot and take the trouble in areas where others might be reluctant to go. All Jews can identify with this sentiment- but in my view, I believe that Liberal Judaism is particularly well-placed to fulfil this historic role.

Liberal Judaism has began its two-year process to produce a strategy for its future at the 2012 Biennial Weekend. Whatever content emerges, the very act of engaging more purposefully internally and externally will enrich our tradition and explore what we are for ourselves and for others at a time of great change for Judaism.

When anybody asks why Liberal Judaism needs a strategy, I draw on some of the comments that have been made to me in the course of my visits and meetings. At last December Channukah reception at Number 10, I was introduced to one of the PM's senior policy advisers who said with a straight face, "Liberal Judaism? That's a ginger group, isn't it?" Then last month, as I sat opposite a distinguished former Church of England bishop, who exuded in erudition, I was asked, "Liberal Judaism? Are you Tony Bayfield's lot?" When I told him that though Rabbi Bayfield was a most esteemed colleague who worked tirelessly for Anglo-Jewry cross-community collaboration, he was in fact Reform, my Bishop elegantly redeemed himself. "Aah, now I remember," he reflected, "You are strong on values, aren't you?"

I over-schmoozed, even by my own standards. I said something like, "Liberal Judaism stands to learn a lot from the Church of England." By this I meant that far from joining the predictable critics of the C of E and accusing it of not settling some key issues once and for all, we should see the genius of a church that puts value on evolution rather than blind application of doctrine. Communities and individuals evolve over generations and tradition is not set in stone but in the lives of the people who live that tradition.

Liberal Judaism is a movement that befriends anxiety. Anxiety is a most healthy thing, particularly when handled constructively. We see a world riddled with anxiety, and the challenge is not to deny or suppress it, but give it creative and useful expression.

As we prepare for Pesach, we are blessed with reminders of its significance- everything from the birth of freedom, to the power of spiritual transformation right through what do we tell our children (and in the case of the "wicked" child, what children can tell us!).

One of the joys of preparing for joining Judaism (my conversion was 5 years ago this coming month), was becoming more familiar with the main festivals. Pesach has always held a special place since I started my Jewish journey, and particularly this year as it coincides with my first Pesach as Chairman of the movement, and, roughly, with Easter. As a former Catholic, and one who had the benefit of a French Jesuit education (and in Paris to boot- a triple-whammy of an education!), part of the journey has been about bringing together the different influences that have shaped my own sense of identity. When I was asked at my Rabbinic Board about my Jesuit education, I think that I must have shocked, amused and puzzled the Board. Because I emphasised that what I thought my Jesuit education and Liberal Judaism had in common: a realisation that human reason must be tested to destruction, yet allow for the limits of human rationality as something inexplicably positive.

I visited Kingston Liberal Synagogue last week. Rabbi Charley Baginsky, one of our most inspiring and inspirational rabbis, asked to speak on the theme of Jewish Identity. I was the last of outside speakers who had spoken at her evening institute this term, so I chose to speak less about definitions of Jewish identity, and more about what I find particularly intriguing - and often difficult- about identity. Is identity about what makes us the same as others, or different? Is it something we choose for ourselves, or something that chooses us?

If we take our inspiration from Jews who have made Jewishness problematic, not just for themselves, but for others - and my preferred selection is Moses, Jesus, Spinoza, Marx, Freud and Einstein (and that's just for starters) - by the time we reach the 21st century I wonder whether what was marginal and edgy in the history of our people now has the power to be mainstream. Being Jewish is more than one thing. A movement which can accommodate those who follow a tradition and those who question that tradition yet still define themselves in relation to it can only add to the survival of Judaism. Humanity after the collapse of overt ideologies is looking for positive examples of what it is to be human and to have a purpose. Tapping the power of different ideas can give us a renewed sense of purpose.

This past week we had a row erupt over our decision to let out a meeting room to another Jewish organization which invited a speaker who is unacceptable to some other Jews, including the venerable Board of Deputies of British Jews.

Interestingly, the Jewish Leadership Council -of which I am member- was publicly silent on this controversy, but from what I could discern expressed two perfectly compatible views: first, some of its members may well have questioned the decision; but secondly, they also see Liberal Judaism holding a special place in Anglo-Jewry, reaching -as in the old Heineken beer advertisement- parts that others cannot reach.

So I conclude this reflection with two ideas for Liberal Judaism and those with whom we engage. Liberal Judaism is a movement that puts value on having values, and by extension, only freedom of speech guarantees respect for those with views different from our own. We cannot carry on being children of the Sixties where freedom is seen as an unqualified good - but in setting limits, we think hard about the consequences of setting those limits, and we err on the side of freedom. In a contest between security and freedom, if we are to be realistic, security must always win. What is a bigger prize, however, is security with freedom.

For Liberal Jews, it is not enough to hold a principle (that is, take a position): one has to hold a space (that is, give a space in which the other, as well as oneself, finds expression). Understanding the tension that freedom brings is also to understand its unforeseen opportunity.

As we marvel over the leadership shown at the time of the Exodus, as Chairman of Liberal Judaism, I ask what is today's leadership challenge for us Liberal Jews. I suggest that the leadership challenge of our time is to give up on a false or forced coherence. Rather it is to embrace an emerging coherence born of a real and patient commitment to work through differences: sometimes to accept them, but more often than not, to appreciate them. And that's when we will achieve a lasting peace.

Death... and Life

My thoughts in this entry are on death and dying for two reasons. I have attended commemorations to mark the Holocaust, and next month the Dying Matters Coalition will promote greater national awareness of the needs of patients requiring palliative care.

The Mayor of London hosted a touching ceremony at City Hall. On display were violins that had been retrieved from the concentration camps and carefully restored. When played, they brought to life a message of hope for that lost generation, as well as our own.

The Holocaust message is universal and it crosses generations. At Northwood's commemoration, our rabbi, Hillel Athias Robles, spoke of a "factory of murder".

For progressives, tradition rather than modernity was subject to scrutiny. Looking back on the past century, and looking ahead, I think that modernity will become more of a problem. Modernity produces great advances but also unprecedented evil. Humanity has always had tools, but we now have the technology to enslave and destroy on a vast scale. Some of this technology is visible, but much of it is imperceptible and all the more powerful.

Nothing compares with the Holocaust or other genocides since. But the systematic and almost robotic nature of the killing gives us pause for thought about small and pervasive ways modernity cuts us off from one another. And gradually dehumanises our response so that we too, now, ignore the suffering of others.

Liberal Judaism supports the Dying Matters Coalition because in confronting issues about death and dying, it can appreciate all the more what makes life and living special. Understanding the suffering of others connects us, and is the ultimate engagement. Judaism has always valued the life-cycle, and the responsibility that each generation has for another. In recent years we have rightly seen growing importance attached to sustainable communities. We increasingly face a challenge in promoting caring communities.

Rabbi Alexandra Wright led the first ever community blessing at the Liberal Jewish Synagogue. It was a joyful experience to watch twenty children being blessed. The children, who range in age from a few months all the way to seven years old, were given for the first time their Hebrew names. Speaking to students after World War 1, Leo Baeck recalled the teachers and students who had died, and listed their achievements. But his final words were put to the students who had survived, "An earth goes, and an earth comes, but the generations of mankind endure for ever."

To Boldly Blog

The thought of writing a blog conjures up a sweet childhood memory of watching Star Trek with my younger brother. For years I thought that Captain James T. Kirk said, "Captain Slog- Star Date ..." Maybe it was a burgeoning work ethic, or just poor hearing.

Over the years, I have been lucky to do interesting work. Four months into this job- which is unpaid, and done in my spare time- I realise that when work is really productive and rewarding, it is also enjoyable. That, I am sure, is not commonly felt. One impressive thinker I occasionally turn to is the late Donald Winnicott, the child psychologist, who said that play is not the opposite of work, but of coercion. In a stroke, he not only made play, but work, potentially liberating.

Some of the best moments so far as Chairman have been enjoying our movement at play, particularly in Winnicott's sense. Our youth movement's Veidah was a brilliant example of this: young people discussing and debating, agreeing, disagreeing, proposing and voting on resolutions. They used this transition in their lives both to have fun and try for size the scope and limits of political leadership.

Getting around our communities, where I see so much enterprise and fun, I sometimes feel that we don't learn enough from what we do really well, and focus too much on what doesn't work. I hope that this year even more of our congregations engage with our youth workers. And in the same spirit, I am drawing more on our elders, rather than trying to reinvent every wheel. You don't have to sit on a committee to explore ideas or continue to shape the movement.

Limmud I attended only towards the end, but the enthusiasm of the participants was contagious. I would like to have seen a few more Orthodox colleagues, because as a Liberal Jew, I want more, not less, challenge. Take the recent decision by the Supreme Court on the JFS: I see it as very healthy that we all have to learn lessons from that- even if the whole episode was also an ordeal.

Questions about Jewish identity are never set in stone. We all have been changed by that ruling, whether we recognise it or not. I think this means giving an even bigger push for JCoSS. Whatever one thinks of faith schools, let this one be really successful.

At the weekends, reading some of the work of Leo Baeck and John Rayner serves as effortless inspiration. For all the depth and seriousness of their approach, they played with ideas, and explored different perspectives even if their conclusions were clear and discerning. The sermon David Goldberg gave this month on Moses and the burning bush reminded me of how much we learn by exploring what is mysterious, because it keeps us guessing. Was it Einstein who said that at the cradle of science and religion lies mystery?

As we work with our 35 congregations, I realise that with so much change in society, tradition will become more important. But genuinely engaging with what is really happening inside and outside Judaism will be even more important, and this can and should shape the developing character of Judaism. So with our officers and rabbis, we're wrestling with how we become even more outward-looking, and make a difference.

Speaking of character development, I am learning a new part as next month I make an appearance in a Purim production being performed at LJS. The part they've chosen for me: Haman! Well, leadership is not about popularity, they say. The director has told me to practise an evil laugh that has impact but doesn't scare the children...