To hold the centre has become increasingly challenging, but it is now no longer a choice. This is the message I would like to bring you from my attendance at the two day Sephardic Rabbinical Conference in New York recently.
The words above, are a paraphrase of a much more eloquent interjection by Rabbi Joseph Dweck, who served as Senior Rabbi of the Spanish and Portuguese Jewish community of the United Kingdom, during a presentation at the conference.
The conference, the second of its kind, organised by Avi Garson of the Habura and Ethan Marcus of the Sephardic Brotherhood of America, and hosted by the UJA-Federation of New York was notable for both its scale and attendance, as 150 rabbis and community leaders from eleven different countries and from a diverse range of Sephardic backgrounds gathered to hear presentations on the theme of “The Art of Rabbinic Leadership.”
The programme included presentations on the challenges specific to a Sephardic Rabbi in 2026, methodologies of teaching Torah, supporting congregants in crisis, and more.
Standard fare for a rabbinical conference perhaps, but this meeting of attendees from across the globe was a particularly powerful and inspiring moment for those of us who had the privilege.
Sephardi communities for a long time have wondered why we are so misunderstood, why it is that the Jewish world at large seems to think that what defines us is exotic food or a musical tradition that sounds a bit different. That we are lenient about certain things where Ashkenazim
are strict, or that we take a long time to finish services on Shabbat.
As a sephardi Rabbi who has also studied in Ashkenazi yeshivot, I can tell you that these idiosyncrasies, while true, are not definitive features. Rather, there is an absolutely distinct approach to Torah and Jewish life that I learned from my teachers, and that is sadly rare to find in the wider Rabbinic world these days. An approach that ironically is perhaps precisely what we all need right now.
Whilst preparing for Kippur this year, I rediscovered a booklet that I had produced more than 20 years ago. In the foreword, my teacher Rabbi Dr. Abraham Levy OBE wrote:
“We are living at a time when little difference of opinion or dialogue is tolerated in the practice and interpretation of Jewish texts.”
He was proud that in his synagogue, we could publish a pamphlet that had diverse opinions and very different interpretations. He hoped that this diversity of approach would itself bring readers closer to their God.
His words were true 20 years ago, but they are even more true today. And yet, the conference in New York is thankfully a sign of a movement in a different direction. The Sephardi world is not monolithic. We have different liturgies, distinct practices, and even different rulings in halacha. And yet, we sat together in an atmosphere of acceptance and mutual respect.
The phrase – Hine Ma Tov Uma Naim, Shevet Achim Gam Yachad – How good, and how nice it is for brothers to sit together! was a constant refrain. And this for me was balm for the soul.
So often in the context of Rabbinic meetings, I find myself nervously justifying my presence. Orthodox Rabbis these days seem predominantly concerned with their Orthodoxy, in what has become an apparent arms race of Frumkeit.
There is little room for us to consider what the real meaning or impact of Jewish practice is on ourselves and our communities, let alone to advocate for a centrist and rational Judaism. In the context of the dominant Chareidi world view, a move to the centre is seen as a move to the left, and thus unacceptable. It is surprising how an innocuous statement can quickly lead to reputational annihilation for a Rabbi in our current environment.
But to hold the centre is not a lurch to the left. It is to navigate the wisest course through difficult waters. As Rabbi Dweck noted, to be extreme is easier, it requires less thought. Whether to the left or to the right, one need not consider the merits of the other side.
Yet to even find the centre, the point of balance, requires great consideration, deep thought and understanding. It is this balanced, thoughtful approach that my Rabbis taught me, and that they exemplified. And it is also the way of thinking that we saw so clearly embodied in the conference.
In this time of extremes, where it seems that in every part of society people are holding more and more extreme views, to spend time with colleagues who also navigate the Maimonidean middle path of our teachers was simultaneously invigorating and relaxing.
Sephardim have been somewhat quiet for a long time. It is an integral part of our culture to be modest, to wait to be invited to speak, and this has led to a certain lack of confidence.
We certainly do not think that everyone must behave like us, or think as we do, but the wider Jewish world might take heed that another way is possible. A way that does not see halacha at odds with modernity, rationality or science.
What might appear to many as modern or progressive Orthodoxy, is not for us at least, particularly modern. It is precisely the ancient and venerable tradition of our Sephardi Hachamim, and I am grateful to have been raised in it and to be part of its resurgence.
Rabbi Eiran Davies is lecturer at Paideia, the European Institute for Jewish Studies in Stockholm, and is a graduate of the Montefiore Endowment
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