A few weeks ago, I was invited to chair a panel discussion at Bristol and South-West Limmud about the impact of Covid-19 on the Jewish community. It will not be taking place — because the United Synagogue panellist had withdrawn, owing to the presence of a Liberal rabbi.
Or rather, had been withdrawn. The decision had been taken on his behalf by the US.
I confess to being surprised. The subject did not seem controversial, and I had believed such denominational politics were behind us, especially since the taboo-breaking visit of the Chief Rabbi to Limmud in 2013.
Limmud head office has acknowledged a mistake, in that the US had not been consulted about the composition of the panel before details of the session were circulated.
Bristol is one of the smallest communities to host a Limmud and I doubt the volunteers were aware of such a protocol. Even so, the US could still have given the panel the go-ahead.
The usual rationale for non-participation is to draw a distinction between “authentic Judaism” and the theologies of other movements which are considered invalid.
We don’t use words such as “heresy” in polite Anglo-Jewish society. By not sharing platforms, Orthodox rabbis send the message that Torah should be taught only by those who uphold traditional beliefs.
But the effect of that is to reinforce perceptions among the public of religion being a source of disunity.
Differences between denominations are real and substantial — the frequenters of a guitar-strumming Liberal service or a shockeling Chasidic steibl might think each other’s service belongs to another religion.
Nevertheless, we share a heritage rooted in the Hebrew Bible, Sefer Hasfarim (the Book of Books), as Israel’s Declaration of Independence puts it. We need sometimes to assert the common ground rather than to accentuate the divisions.
In 1997, the then-president of the US, Elkan Levy, appeared on a platform with Liberal, Masorti and Reform representatives at Limmud — and made a point of doing so. It was a time when most US rabbis shunned Limmud under the influence of the London Beth Din, although Chief Rabbi Sacks had given them a green light to go.
Making known his displeasure at the absenteeism, Mr Levy remarked: “I cannot accept the concept that if you sit round the table with someone who is Progressive, you are legitimising them. I have come here because I wanted to show as publicly as possible my support for Limmud.”
The following year, Mr Levy was one of the architects of the “Stanmore Accords”, which were intended to create a framework for inter-denominational peace after one of the worst episodes of communal friction.
It clarified that US rabbis would not take part in non-Orthodox services and non-Orthodox rabbis would not be invited to take part in Orthodox ones.
There was nothing about joint panels — though the accords did say that “no section of the community should ask or expect any other to act against its convictions or embarrass it for being consistent with its principles” and “when shared activity or common ground is sought, the search for it should be with due recognition for the sensitivities of the various participants”.
Since the cancellation of the Bristol session, the US has apparently reassured the Liberals that it will continue to share platforms on areas such as antisemitism, Israel, interfaith, refugee support and the environment.
But that begs the question: if the US is prepared to take part in a joint activity on the environment, what is the problem with a discussion about Covid-19?
True, it might bring up religious differences, primarily over the fact that Progressive synagogues were able to stream services on Shabbat and Yomtov during lockdown whereas the Orthodox could not. But the pandemic also forced the US to innovate online, including the launch of a pre-Shabbat Friday afternoon service.
Communities across the religious spectrum are now wrestling with the question of whether Zoom Judaism is wholly a good thing — or whether it has its drawbacks, too. While digital activities might reach those who for whatever reason are unable to get to a synagogue, it might loosen people’s connections with a congregation in preferring virtual participation rather than mixing with others in person.
At any rate, no great theological principle seems at stake, so it remains hard to fathom the United Synagogue’s reasoning.
To get more from opinion, click here to sign up for our free Editor's Picks newsletter.