Below are what I consider some of the advantages of non-Orthodox practice and some of the advantages of Orthodox practice, in terms of the values that they hold.
Non-Orthodox (hey, I'm Conservative, so I'm starting with my own folks first):
Okay, the Conservative Movement's Rabbinical Assembly does
not approve, but even most Conservative Jews use means of transportation other than their feet on Sabbath and major holidays. However, before my Orthodox brethren and sistren get too exercised about this, please understand that some of us have serious reasons for doing so. Consider my friend with
Multiple Sclerosis, who can't even get to her building's entrance/exit door, much less to a synagogue, without using an elevator, or my parents, who, even before my mother
broke her hip last week, couldn't go to synagogue unless someone drove them there. Perhaps I'm misinformed, but my understanding of halachah/Jewish religious law is that it shows little mercy for those with mobility challenges. If a person can't walk to a seder, or to a synagogue or sukkah on a Sabbath or major holiday, the person just can't go, period. An Orthodox Jew with limited mobility is basically a prisoner of his/her home every Sabbath and major holiday.
Update and correction: Thanks to commenter Miami Al, I've discovered the existence of the
Shabbat scooter. [Mon., Oct. 27, 2014: Try
this link, or, better yet,
this one.]
An Orthodox Jew who, by the spin of the genetic lottery, happens to be born gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender is just plain out of luck. That person can stay in the closet and find excuses not to marry, stay in the closet and marry someone of a gender other than the preferred one, or, well, leave the Orthodox community. Frankly, if there are any other options, they're either extremely difficult and taken by the brave only, or I just don't know them.
Our Orthodox brethren and sistren take so literally the Biblical verse "p'ru u-r'vu, be fruitful and multiply," that a married Orthodox Jew simply does not have the option of remaining childless, if fertile. There are even questions as to the minimum number of children permissible, the answer depending on one's interpretation and/or rabbi, I presume.
I've blogged about this before, but, at the risk of repeating myself, let me just say that there are certain things that an Orthodox Jew can't say without being deemed a kofer/apikorus/heretic. An Orthodox Jew can "finesse" it, to a certain extent, saying, for example, "Rabbi X rules this way, but I don't follow that ruling, I follow Rabbi Y's interpretation." But, in the final analysis, only on an anonymous blog can an Orthodox Jew admit to having doubts about, for example, whether HaShem really gave us the Torah on Har Sinai or whether it was written by inspired human beings. You have to buy into the belief system, or at least, give the members of your community the impression that you do, if you wish to remain within the community and/or if you don't wish to jeopardize your children's marriage prospects.
Anyone who's been reading this blog for more than about 2 1/2 minutes has already figured out that I'm not only a feminist, but an egalitarian, as well, believing that women and men should have equal opportunities in all aspects of Judaism. As I've blogged previously, it's not the
mechitzah that's the problem, it's everything that
doesn't come with it: being counted in a
minyan, being allowed to lead any part of a public religious service, etc. Some of us just can't reconcile ourselves to the idea that the separate roles assigned to men and women by the rabbis over a thousand years ago are still binding on us today and can't be changed.
Orthodox
- A sense of structure and permanence in an ever-changing world
The Torah's been around for a good while. Maybe the rabbis knew/know a thing or two, and we don't have to reinvent the wheel in every generation.
This is, to a certain extent, the flip side of the "freedom of movement" argument--nothing is more likely to engender a sense of community than knowing that you can visit any member of your congregation on foot on a Shabbat/Sabbath or Yom Tov/holiday because they all live within walking distance of the synagogue.
- A shared commitment to observance
No Orthodox Jew (except a medical professional who needs one for life-saving purposes) would dream of even
bringing a cell phone to synagogue on the Sabbath, much less leaving it
turned on. It's also nice that an Orthodox Jew doesn't have to worry about going to the neighbor's house for dinner because everyone in the community keeps kosher. In fact, families of the more observant Conservative variety have been known to leave the Conservative Movement for Orthodoxy because Shabbat observance among their Conservative counterparts is often such a low priority that many kids go to soccer practice, ballet class, piano lessons, etc. on Saturday, leaving the children of the more observant Conservatives without Shabbat playmates.
For me, the chief advantages of being non-Orthodox are that I can travel to the synagogue or seder of my choice, discuss my true beliefs (or lack thereof) without worrying that my frankness will make it impossible for my son to find a wife, and lead the weekday morning minyan. The chief drawback is the relative lack of shared observance. I
hate it when people's cell phones ring in shul on Shabbat!
Kindly read the comments here first, then see part 2, the "tachlis" (nitty-gritty practical details) version,
here.