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.