But rather than reacting by raising the drawbridge even higher, there has been a wide range of dramatic changes in response by Reform and Liberal rabbinic bodies in recent years.
Jews with non-Jewish partners are no longer seen as traitors who have turned their back on Judaism, but as part of an inevitable pattern in a pluralist society, still Jewish, while their partners are treated with every courtesy.
They are also no longer shunned on their wedding day, the time when they deeply want to assert their Jewish connection, and instead mixed-faith blessings in synagogue can take place. So too with those who are LGBTQ+. They are not forced to hide their identity, but are welcomed as they are, while same-sex weddings can now occur under a chupah.
Singles are not regarded as “on the shelf” any more, or the responsibility of the rabbi to find a match. Yes, if that is what is wanted, but not if they are happy as they are, while single parents and divorcees are counted as individuals, not as problems.
The prayer book now accepts the fact that not all are firm believers, with the addition of passages that talk of “our uncertainties” and “sometimes being bewildered”; or that admits that “we often do not recognise it when God speaks to us, and God must steal into us, like a thief in the night”.
Meanwhile, those who wish to convert to Judaism are not refused three times in the hope they will go away, but are treated as welcome additions, especially if they are marrying someone Jewish and will help unify the family faith and ensure it is passed on to the next generation.
As for matrilineal descent, which discriminates against those with a Jewish father, Jewish education and Jewish identity — and which is post-biblical (in the Torah, Jewish descent goes through the patrilineal line) — this has been changed to equilineal: a person is Jewish if they have one Jewish parent, irrespective of their gender.
Each of the above changes made ripples, noticed primarily by the individuals they affect, but taken together they add up to a religious tsunami and are detailed in a new book entitled Inclusive Judaism.
But are there dangers in this approach? Will too much inclusion risk lack of commitment? If we blur boundaries, will we lose our sense of identity?
Given the new social norms of modern life, Judaism has to adapt. The changes should be seen not as a grudging concession, but as a continuation of the dynamic evolution of Judaism that has always happened. The Jewish lifestyle of the Lubavitch today would be unrecognisable to that of Hillel, while his practices would be totally alien to those of Abraham.
The reality is that those who wish to drop out of Judaism need no excuse. They can leave at any minute. These changes are for those who strongly want to remain Jewish, but whose personal situation meant they felt unwelcome.
Instead, we need to shout out: “Stay, you are valued and have a place”. Inclusive Judaism is about reclaiming Jews who we have forced to into the margins, or to exit. It is noticeable, for instance, that of the 3,000 mixed-faith couples I counselled as part of the annual “I’m Jewish, My Partner Isn’t” seminars, never did any say: “Rabbi, shall we get married?” Instead they said: “Rabbi, we are getting married; can you help?” To reply “no” achieves nothing; to reply “yes” brings them into the fold.
Jewish tradition created the concept of the eruv to extend the domain of one’s home for the purposes of carrying on Shabbat. We now need to take it a stage further, not for carrying items, but for including Jews in danger of being lost because of the barriers of the past.
Let’s make Judaism inclusive not just for Shabbat, but all year round.
Inclusive Judaism:The Changing Face of an Ancient Faith by Jonathan Romain and David Mitchell is published by Jessica Kingsley at £12.99 (and available from admin@maidshul.org)
