So, I read the selection, “Disturb us, Adonai…” and I was disturbed. “Why was that included in our new prayerbook,” I wondered? As many have said, “I come to the synagogue to get away from the world, not to be beaten over the head with it.” Of course, that’s the point of the selection, we shouldn’t use the excuse of spirituality to sleep when the problems of the world are our religious issue.
As usual I googled the author. While I came to learn he was a Reform colleague I had never heard of him. I usually can recognize those who were our rabbis by name, not him, not Mitchell Salem Fischer. Once I learned about his life, I understood a bit better what this was all about and why Rabbi Fischer wrote what he did.
He was born in 1903, was ordained at 22 from the Jewish Institute of Religion (the NY seminary before its merger with the Hebrew Union College, Cincinnati to become HUC-JIR with both campuses), and served in one congregation for three years before being called to Rodeph Shalom Congregation in New York City. He was instrumental in their construction of the beautiful edifice that remains their building on West 83rd Street. Just two years after his tenure began, he wrote a letter to the president of Rodeph Shalom resigning from the pulpit. In his letter of resignation, Rabbi Fischer wrote, he wanted to speak out on issues “without institutional restraint.” He continued,
Preachers enunciate ideals, but these must remain so indefinite, so unpointed, so
unchallenging, so completely removed from the real issues of everyday living and
struggling, that these ideals become patently and utterly vain. The rabbi becomes
an exalted lecturer, entertainer and institution promotion agent.
Rabbi Fischer graduated from the Columbia University School of Law in 1933, and while he never returned to the rabbinate he served as counsel for the New York Board of Rabbis. He specialized in marital law and wrote much of the family law for the State of New York. Throughout his career he was a strong voice for social justice, was a major voice against the German-American Bund and represented the Anti-Nazi League. Interestingly following the defeat of the Nazis, the League infiltrated the KKK, exposing their operations
His piece found in our prayerbook reflected that passion Fischer had for the prophetic spirit believing that it couldn’t be put on a shelf to be removed only at certain moments. The message of religion, he believed, not just Reform Judaism, required vigilance against oppression from Sunday through Saturday, as it were.
So, while this selection bothered me at first, and while I had written a piece for my Wilmington congregation indicating my objections to it, I knew I had to write yet another piece. I hailed its place in our siddur and praised Rabbi Fischer for his candor and ultimately for his stance against inaction that resulted in his resignation from the congregation and his decision to leave the rabbinate so he could pursue those ideals in an unfettered manner.
(Speaking of Reform rabbis, a rabbi of a more traditional bent was expounding on different biblical interpretations when he heard argument in the back of the class. “What’s going on here?” he asked. “We were just arguing about Reform and Orthodox Judaism,” a student said. “What’s there to argue about?” asked the rabbi. “He says there’s no difference of real importance, but I think there is,” said the student. “OK, I’ll settle the dispute,” said the rabbi who was eager to continue his lecture. “The difference is very small,” the rabbi said. “Orthodox Jews believe Pharaoh’s daughter found Moses in the bulrushes. Reform Jews believe that the Pharaoh’s daughter only said she found Moses in the bulrushes!”)