My new-found freedom as a freelance Jewish educator provides me with a new approach to pluralism.

From the perspective of an organized, democratic and inclusive communal body, it behooved me to show full respect for all constituent communities, groups and denominations. Now, I feel free to criticize with a moderate modicum of disrespect where and when required! Perhaps this is a form of pluralism more people can abide by.

Of course, other values kick in, and I cannot permit myself a public airing of the various and varied weaknesses of any one denomination or group. The arrogance required and the resulting isolation of putting myself outside the Jewish camp would be intolerable – to me and to others. For one thing, I still belong to a few of these groups.

I do, however, wish to criticize one aspect of contemporary Jewish life that plagues all of us. At a time of economic lows, it is strange to speak of overwhelming affluence, and yet, it might be precisely the right time to consider what 20th- and 21st-century wealth has done to Jewish life.

The most obvious sign of over-wealth has been the ridiculously lavish events that bar and bat mitzvah parties and weddings have become. At a recent 700-guest affair, a friend of mine remembered a British Christian wedding he attended some years back. It consisted of a brief morning service in a country church followed by a wedding breakfast with 30 guests. After a few speeches, everyone went home.

One can guarantee with full certainty that the traditional Sheva Brachot recited at a similarly modest Jewish wedding would be more than acceptable to God, and probably a major relief to family and friends. It would be a major blessing, too, if the rabbis of all denominations had the power to issue some form of sumptuary restrictions on these foolish wastes.

On another occasion, I was talking to a friend who expressed some shock at the idea of a kosher home that did not have two sinks in the kitchen. (There must already be homes with six kitchen sinks. Think meat, dairy and pareve, times two to accommodate Pesach!) Thankfully, my friend’s close relative pointed out that their grandparents had fully kosher kitchens with one small sink.

Kashrut at home and in industrial plants has been completely exaggerated by the affluence of Jews who can afford luxuries that have become necessities. Some of the leniencies of meat and milk separation have been neglected because of our ability to have two and three of everything.

Tfillin that are worn in morning prayers are yet another example of the influence of big dollars on what was once affordable to all Jews. It is extremely difficult to find simple, inexpensive tfillin like the first pair I was given when I became a bar mitzvah. The more money, the more hidurim (pious embellishments – nice, but not necessary) we include, and the less available these things become to poor Jews, of whom we have many.

But, are not all of these examples trivial, one-time expenses that only affect very observant Jews? Not entirely. Most Jews still have a Jewish wedding, but there are other, less obvious examples that affect more Jews and will have an influence on the Jewish future. I refer to the institutions of Jewish education: schools and camps. The majority of Jews who use these facilities are demanding more luxurious settings, assuming that the fancier the equipment, the better the education.

In times like these, it is worth reassessing that assumption to determine just what makes a camp or a school a great place of learning. Will my old Camp Massad buddies please come forward to testify that the run-down facility on Black Lake was a place that moulded our Jewish and Zionist characters for life? The more we insist on every hiddur, ritual or educational, the more we restrict Jewish life to those who can afford it.

Even worse, the more we add ostentatious consumption to Jewish life, the less we appreciate the essence of our faith, our values, and our cultural legacy.