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. GUARD next page 9/12 1997 9