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I love the word “iconoclast.” It means to break idols.

It is the subject of my book, The Gods Are Broken! The Hidden Legacy of Abraham, published by the Jewish Publication Society.

The first iconoclast in history was young Abraham – who, according to an ancient legend, broke his father’s idols and therefore, found God. At some point in their early Jewish education, most Jewish children learn that story, and they are disappointed to learn that it is, in fact, not in the Bible.

The story is so powerful that a version of it appears in the Quran. The Muslim Sufi mystic poet Rumi devoted several poems to it.

The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was a fan of iconoclasts — who, by definition, are maladjusted people. Most parents go ballistic if they think that their child is maladjusted. Dr. King thought that maladjustment was, well, a mitzvah, a religious commandment. (OK. so he didn’t exactly use that word).

He said: “There are some things in our society to which we should never be adjusted. We must never adjust ourselves to racial discrimination and racial segregation. We must never adjust ourselves to religious bigotry. We must never adjust ourselves to economic conditions that take necessities from the many to give luxuries to the few. We must never adjust ourselves to the madness of militarism, and the self-defeating effects of physical violence…”

That is why I have titled this blog – “Martini Judaism: for those who want to be shaken and stirred.”

At its best, Judaism — and any religion  — should shake our pre-conceived conceptions of the world and of society. Our religious faith might ask us to shake our heads over the conditions of the world and society. Our faith might shake us to the very depths of our beings.

And yes, our faith might stir us as well — stir us into contemplation, action, and repairing the world. Faith should be aspirational. It should compel us to refuse to leave the world the way that we found it.

What’s the “job description” of the Jewish people?  Here is a short list: to teach, to encourage, to discourage, to persuade, to cajole and influence.  As a congregational rabbi, I have always sensed that one of the items on my job description is “community iconoclast.” There are many idols out there in the religious world today — and I am not talking about gods of wood and stone.

And…you don’t have to be Jewish to be an iconoclast.

• The search for spirituality — when it becomes overly-individualistic and takes us away from the demands of history and from authentic community.
• Life cycle ceremonies — when people simply sleepwalk through them, and fail to think about the life passage that those ceremonies embody. I see this all the time with bar and bat mitzvah, but it’s certainly not limited to those rites of passage. My Christian colleagues often express frustration that kids (and parents) are not “getting” the real meaning of first communion or confirmation. It’s not just cakes and parties.
• Worship and ritual — when they are totally devoid of any inner devotion. That was what the ancient prophets were screaming about. As the Christian author Frederick Buechner once said: “There is no evidence whatsoever of a prophet being invited back a second time for dinner.” They were tough customers. The Jewish theologian, social activist and Dr. King’s compatriot, Abraham Joshua Heschel, wrote: “The prophet is an iconoclast, challenging the apparently holy, revered and awesome. Beliefs cherished as certainties, institutions endowed with supreme sanctity, he exposes as scandalous pretensions.”

Oh, yes, by the way – even our God-talk can become an idol, when we start believing that our names for God and imagined descriptions of God are, in fact, unchangeable.

I am writing “Martini Judaism: for those who want to be shaken and stirred” for you, especially if you are interested in asking the hard questions about faith, God, and society. I am inviting you to become a fellow iconoclast (T-shirts to follow!)

Why bother? Because Judaism stands for that which is more than simply easy and convenient. It is not the Jewish goal to make the world Jewish, but it is the Jewish goal to make the world different.

That is the ultimate goal of religion — to make us maladjusted to the dysfunctions of society.

And, on the way, becoming adjusted to God.