by Rabbi Yisrael Rutman

The “independent minyanim” have arrived.

According to the Jewish Telegraphic Agency, there are some 55 of them today around the United States, small groups of self-described “unaffiliated” Jews who gather together in prayer on college campuses, private homes, and wherever is comfortable. They pledge allegiance to none of the established streams of American Judaism; and on principle, they employ no rabbis.

Official Jewish leadership reportedly finds the phenomenon challenging. How to bring these “Don’t-Tread-On-Me” types into the fold of Jewish communal life? The future of Federation fundraising depends on finding ways to reach out to what JTA calls “that elusive cohort of 20- and 30-somethings.”

But surely the independents are an encouraging sign. Young Jews who are seeking meaningful spiritual life, not just a membership, a “Make Payable” for their philanthropic check-writing. They are looking for the real thing, and are determined to find it on their own.

Finding it on their own, though, poses its own challenges. For if the “it” you’re looking for bears any resemblance to the traditional mode of Jewish prayer, you need somebody who knows how to run a minyan. The rabbi-resistant independents are often lacking in the necessary synagogue skills and are forced to turn to rabbinical types for help.

There is nothing wrong with this, per se. Truth be told, there is no requirement for a minyan to have a rabbi. On the contrary, participants in these minyanim will, to some extent, be forced to learn more about Judaism than they would have had they attached themselves to an already-existing synagogue, where the rabbi decides everything and the congregants just follow along.

But the aversion to rabbis is not so benign. It bespeaks a broader antagonism toward religious authority. Many don’t want a rabbi for the minyan; they don’t want a rabbi for anything else, either.

In this lies a certain irony. For the formation of a “minyan,” however independent, pre-supposes certain links to tradition. The very idea of a minyan, a quorum of ten for prayer, comes from the Sages of the Talmud. Although the Torah narrative contains many references to prayer, it is always that of Abraham or Sarah, King David or Hannah, or the Jewish people en masse, as at the Splitting of the Sea. Minyan is a much later development. Likewise, the definition of Jewish prayer—silent, in a standing posture, facing Jerusalem—is all rabbinical in origin, and codified in halacha. Anyone who belongs to a “minyan” is, like it or not, paying homage to the rabbis who designed the mode of Jewish prayer.

And while a minyan does not have to have a rabbi, a Jew does. Thus, the injunction in Pirkei Avot, “Make for thyself a rav.” The Sages are telling us that nobody can do it on his own. Not only because he lacks knowledge, though that is usually the case. But even those who have studied for many years are in need of someone to answer their questions, to take counsel with, because it’s so hard for a human being to be objective. Whether it’s a matter of how the Torah reading should be conducted, or how to prioritize one’s charitable donations, or kashering the kitchen, my own subjective views get in the way. How can I be sure that what I want is what God wants? How can I be sure that I am truly serving God, and not myself?

And how can my spiritual adviser, ordained or otherwise, know what God wants? Isn’t he/she also susceptible to personal bias? The answer is: an authoritative tradition, one that lays down the rules for all to follow, and thereby eliminates much of that personal bias.

It’s not a palatable answer for the average independent minyan-goer. But if what is sought is authentic Jewish experience, then the independents will, one way or another, have to relinquish some of that cherished independence. There just ain’t no other way.

Related posts:

1. A Tale of Two Rabbis