Humanistic Phase Two
New leaders bring eNfferent perspectives
on Judaism without God
LYNNE MEREDITH COHN
Staff Writer
a
abbi Sherwin Wine knew, when the
Humanistic Jewish movement was created 34
ears ago, that someday it would need new
leaders. Well, that day has come. And as Wine's
impending June 30, 1998, retirement approaches, the ques-
tion remains: Who will take the reigns of Humanistic
Judaism?
At least locally, Wine has groomed assistant rabbis Stacie
Fine and Tamara Kolton and rabbinic intern Adam
Chalom for the takeover.
"From the very beginning, the big question was how to
arrange for the continuation" of the movement, says Wine.
"The movement can only exist if it has strong professional
leadership."
Wine first sought to build a congregation, second to orga-
nize a national movement and then an international one.
By 1986, it was time "to establish a training program ... for
future leadership," he says.
Known as the International Institute for Secular
Humanistic Judaism, the movement's rabbinic training pro-
Adam
Chalom, 21
f
If you spend any length of time
with Adam Chalom, 21, you may
see glimpses of his mentor, Rabbi
Sherwin Wine — perhaps one rea-
son that Wine suggested while
Chalom was still in high school
that he consider the Humanistic
rabbinate. "I don't believe in a just
universe," Chalom says. "It seems
pretty random to me." The son of
an Ashkenazi mother, whose family
came from Lithuania and
Byelorussia, and a Syrian Orthodox
father, Chalom says his parents had
a sort of intercultural marriage.
"My mother had a labor, liberal,
Reform upbringing. My father's
family was Sephardic Orthodox."
They were married by Rabbi Wine.
gram is housed at the Birmingham Temple in Farmington
Hills. Its responsibilities include creating educational mate-
rials and events for the movement as well as training leaders.
The faculty includes about 25 academics from North
America and Israel who fly in to give seminars.
Humanistic clergy ascend the ranks through three levels.
First, the madrich level allows an individual to function as
a ceremonialist, teacher and leader of small communities. To
be a moreh am, or teacher of the people, requires a master's
degree in Judaic studies.
The rabbinic program, established in 1989, requires a
doctorate in Judaic studies for ordination. In 1992, five stu-
dents enrolled.
On Sept. 12, the Birmingham Temple will install Kolton
and Fine as assistant rabbis and Chalom as a rabbinic
intern. Fine and Kolton have completed the five-year rab-
binic training program and are currently involved in doctor-
al work. Chalom recently graduatedfrom Yale University
and is beginning the University of Michigan's graduate pro-
gram in Judaic studies.
His sister is figure skater Eve
Chalom.
While teaching at a Reform
Sunday school years ago, his father
realized that he didn't believe the
ideas he was teaching, Adam
Chalom says. "He used to pro-
nounce [our] name different, so [it
did not sound like] 'Shalom.'"
Photo by Daniel Lippitt
who feel the way I do," that he started
to wonder why they should be "forced
to say things they don't believe."
The answer, for Wine, was to "cre-
ate an alternative to experience Jewish
identity with integrity."
In the summer of 1963, Wine and
a group of eight Detroit couples orga-
nized the Birmingham Temple. By the
next June, "we had a name for what it
was we believed."
Today, the secular Humanistic
Jewish movement involves 30,000
people across the United States and
Canada. The Birmingham Temple
building also serves as the movement's
international headquarters, housing
the Society for Humanistic Judaism
and the International Institute for
Secular Humanistic Judaism.
The movement estimates that close
to 20 percent of world Jewry embraces
secularism, although most are Jewishly
unaffiliated.
The humanistic movement has not
been well received by mainstream
Jewry. Unlike the early non-Orthodox,
God-centered movements that later
gained credence, Humanistic Judaism
has yet to be widely accepted, perhaps
due to its rejection of God.
But, "I've seen a very considerable
change," says Wine. When the move-
ment first organized, there was a "great
uproar" from the rest of the Jewish
community, he recalls. It took about
10 years "for the major hostility to
dissipate."
About 20 years into its existence,
Humanistic Judaism became "fully
involved in the Jewish community,"
Wine says. But not until this fall has
the movement received money from
the Jewish Federation of Metropolitan
Detroit — for its Colloquium '97:
"Reclaiming Jewish History:
Separating Fact from Fiction."
"Does that mean everybody likes
us? No."
Still, the idea seems to be catching
on. Today, there are Humanistic
groups in more than 50 North
American communities, totaling
30,000 individuals who embrace the
ideology.
Israelis struggle with the same
issues, Wine suggests, as "the majority
of Israelis are secular." But while he
sees the hostility toward Humanistic
Judaism declining, Wine says, "it will
never disappear.
"We have a fundamental commit-
ment to the survival of Judaism," he
insists. "Judaism can't survive without
pluralism because there is no single
Jewish temperament."
The teachings of the
Birmingham Temple reinforced
what the young Chalom learned at
home. For his bar mitzvah —
Humanistic b'nai mitzvot are
required to write a report on a
"hero" — Chalom chose Holocaust
hero Raoul Wallenberg. His confir-
mation thesis was titled, "Even an
atheist is entitled to some
happiness."
During his college sum-
mers, Chalom worked at
the temple. A Judaic
studies major at Yale, he
says, "The more I did,
the more I liked it."
Senior year at Yale,
"my friends began to find
me insufferable. I had a
multi-year plan; they did-
n't know what they want-
Adam Chalom: Encouraging a diversity of ideas
ed to do."
within Humanism.
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9/12
1997
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