By Mordecai M. Kaplan

WHAT is Judaism if not an ethical monotheism? The answer is that it is not an "ism" at all, despite the last syllable in its name. It is a living soul or consciousness; it is the soul or consciousness of the Jewish people. We are not interested in names, and we should not quibble about terms; it is reality that we are after. We want to know what is involved in being a Jew and living a Jewish life. The main reason for our finding fault with the usual presentation of Judaism is that it does not enlighten or inspire us. If the term Judaism does not direct our minds at once to the living energy that operates in the Jewish people, if it has not the power to launch us upon the stream of Israel's active thought and spiritual striving, then it is a word without content, and had better be deleted from our vocabulary. We did well enough without it until very recently, and should it prove an insuperable obstacle to the solution of our spiritual problems, we shall have to throw it into the scrap-heap of obsolete terminology. We shall begin to call our religion "Jewishness" instead of Judaism. The former designation has at least the advantage of connoting consciousness, and nothing is so important for understanding the essence of any religion as the identification of it with a form or state of consciousness. If Jewishness will mean to us Jewish consciousness and not merely "gefillte fisch" or some other Jewish dish, it will serve our purpose.

Let us not lose sight of the main issue in these discussions. We Jews refuse to have our life quest confined to the satisfaction of our material needs. Our souls are hungry; and whether we call it Jewishness or Judaism, what we want is religion that will help us get our bearings in the world, that will keep down the beast in us and spur us on to worthy endeavor in the field of thought and action. Under normal conditions we should find all this in the faith of our fathers. But, unfortunately, all that most of us know about that faith is what we acquired from some old-fashioned "rabbi" who taught us when we were small children and who made us recite Hebrew by the page. At home our parents would insist upon our conforming to routine observances and ceremonies which meant nothing to us. When we grew older and occasionally asked questions about the Bible, we met with cold and evasive replies. No wonder that later on, when we entered the academic world, we grew accustomed to look upon Judaism as out of touch with the realities of life, and far removed from the elemental needs that agitate the masses of active, enterprising humanity. We could see no connection between the few humble ceremonies in our homes or in our synagogues with the social, political and industrial problems upon which was riveted the attention of the men of light and leading. To most of us the faith of our fathers seemed little more than a medley of needless restraints, other-worldliness, and hostility to all progress.

Religion Indispensable to the Human Race

BUT a change has come over us. We have begun to realize that Judaism could not have transformed the spiritual history of mankind, as it did, if it were the negligible and insignificant thing we thought it was. We have been unable to discern its true character, because we did not know how to probe beneath the outward and often unattractive surface which it presented to us in the limited circle in which we moved. We have begun to surmise that the Jewish life we are familiar with is nothing more than a devitalized fragment of what, under auspicious circumstances, becomes a life that is spiritually healthful, joyous and invigorating. We have at last learned to take into consideration the inevitable difference in mental scope and outlook that must mark two generations, one of which had its life formed amidst the oppressive atmosphere of Eastern Europe, and the other in the bracing atmosphere of America. This being the case, nothing could be more unreasonable than to expect that the spiritual heritage be transmitted from father to child with ease and naturalness. But who is in a better position to smooth out the roughness and overcome the angularities—father or child? Should we demand of our elders, who are burdened by numerous cares, and whose lives are for the most part hurried and difficult, that they adapt themselves to our attitude of mind? Is it not meet that we, who still retain the plasticity of youth, make advances? Without surrendering an iota of our own individuality we might cultivate that sympathetic insight that would reveal the inestimable worth of our spiritual heritage. Not merely reverence for the past, but a regard for our own future prompts us to achieve a proper understanding of Judaism.

It is well to realize at the outset that the problem of religion is not confined to the Jews alone. Every great world-faith experiences nowadays the throes of transformation and readjustment. Mistaking them for the final struggle, the believer wrings his hands in despair over the impending doom, and the doubter contemplates a religionless future with a great deal of glee. But both will be disappointed in their reckoning. Religion, as we shall see, is entirely too inherent in human life to be dispensable. The belief that it has served its purpose in the evolution of the race, and that it can only survive as a troublesome vestige in the organism of human society, is based upon a misunderstanding of its function. In view of the deeper insight into human nature that has been acquired of late, as a result of the progress made in psychological and social research, there is good reason to believe that a better understanding is not far distant. These investigations have not merely led to new theories about religion, but have essentially changed the method of approach. They have rendered superfluous the subtleties and refinements of metaphysical arguments. A new reservoir in human nature has been tapped, and discovered to be the inexhaustible fount of religion.

The Adaptation of Judaism to Changing Conditions

THIS new way of looking at the problem of religion gives promise of helping us also to get a better comprehension of Judaism. We shall find by means of it that there is much more substantial nourishment to the faith of our fathers than can be obtained from the tabloid form in which the textbooks mete it out to us. The previous article on "What Judaism Is Not"[G] did not argue that Judaism could forego such doctrines as the unity of God, the brotherhood of man and similar principles, or that it should glory in remaining vague and inarticulate. The main objection to the ordinary way of conceiving Judaism was that it lacked the means of preventing its teachings from degenerating into dull platitudes. But if Judaism is essentially the self-consciousness of the Jewish people, these doctrines will be viewed as some of its characteristic expressions. As such they forthwith become instinct with life. To be a religious Jew, accordingly, means not merely to profess the unity of God in cold philosophical fashion, but to live over again by means of thought and symbol the divine intuition, the backslidings, the temptations, the defiance, the threats, the tortures and the final victory implied in the "Shema Yisroel." The Jew who does not thrill with exaltation when he sings the world's most stirring paean, "Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One!" is either ignorant or has the blood of a fish.

Whether Judaism is an ethical monotheism or the consciousness of Israel is not merely an academic question. These two conceptions represent widely divergent ways of dealing with the practical problems of self-adjustment to the novel situation with which Judaism is confronted. Whether the one or the other view shall prevail will make a difference in the fight for existence. We protest that if Judaism will be armed with nothing stronger than the conventional platitudes, it must succumb. By knowing itself for what it really is, Judaism will muster new heart and strength. The need for self-adjustment is not of today; Judaism has been going through that process ever since it saw the light. But during the past hundred and fifty years, Judaism has been wrestling with the problem of self-adaptation which both the redistribution of Jewry and the incursions of materialistic secularism have called into being. In this comparatively short period of a century and a half, Judaism has lived through all that the other religions have experienced within the last three or four centuries. If we were to compare the different stages in the process of Jewish self-adjustment we should find them analogous to those through which European religion in general has passed. These different steps in the process seem to have been unavoidable because they are the concomitant of the natural development of the human spirit. A review of the salient phases in the self-adaptation of religion to the changing conditions of life and thought will throw light upon the significance of that vital method of viewing Judaism which has of late worked its way into Jewish life—for the most part unawares.

The Storm and Stress Period in Religion