National Scholar Updates

Upcoming Classes with Rabbi Hayyim Angel

There are several upcoming learning opportunities with Rabbi Hayyim Angel.

On Tuesday, June 16, from 8:00-9:00 pm ET, Rabbi Angel will teach a Zoom class on The Revelation at Sinai. The class sponsored by the Ben Porat Yeshiva Day School in Paramus, NJ. It is free and open to the public. Here is the Zoom link:

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/5413950938?pwd=dSszMGFUNEgrQlY3blc2K1hzYzdCUT09#success

 

On Mondays July 6 and 13, from 10:00-11:00 am ET, Rabbi Angel will teach Zoom classes on the theme of the destruction of the First Temple. Yirmiyahu and the Hurban, and Iyyov: Addressing the Hole Created by the Torah. These classes are sponsored by Lamdeinu, and registration is required. Here is the link to registration:

https://www.lamdeinu.org/donations/monday-yirmiyahu-and-the-hurban/

 

On Sunday, July 19, Rabbi Angel will teach a Zoom class on the Book of Lamentations. The class is sponsored by Sephardic Bikur Holim in Seattle, Washington. Time to be determined.

 

On Shabbat, July 24-25, Rabbi Angel will serve as scholar-in-residence at Congregation Ahavas Achim in Highland Park, New Jersey.

 

 

The Haredi Draft Crisis in Israel

The ­Haredi Draft Crisis and the October 7th

Gazan Israeli War  

The war between Israel and Hamas that began October 7, 2023 had evolved into a war of attrition with Israel being attacked by Hamas terrorists from Gaza, Houthis from Yemen, Hezbollah from Lebanon, militias from Syria and Iraq, and theocratic, Islamic Iran, the instigating patron of  Middle Eastern terror aimed at conquering, destroying, and ultimately ending Western civilization. 

The Israel Defense Force’s [= IDF] urban warfare response to the October  7th pogrom extended hostilities and suffering.  IDF’s reoccupying Gaza  required activating additional reserves, some of whom had served more than 400 days away from their civilian responsibilities.[i] The war bloated Israel’s military budget by 65%,[ii] necessitating a 3.3% cut in  public sector salaries, recovering 5 NIS billion[iii] while leaving Israeli society frustrated, weary, depressed, and very angry.[iv]

In order to relieve its immediate manpower shortage, the IDF asked to recruit more inductees to address the increased manpower demand, and sought to  draft Haredi [= “ultra” Orthodox]  military age men,[v] with Israel’s  Supreme Court’s concurrence.[vi] In the wake of February 28, 2026’s IDF Operation Lion’s Roar,  when the IDF, in cooperation with the American military’s Operation Epic Fury, joined together to end the Iranian nuclear threat, the IDF mobilized 60,000 reservists of its citizen army, straining Israeli strength, endurance, and patience even further.[vii] The elite Haredi Great Rabbis protested vehemently,[viii] claiming that Haredi men’s yeshiva learning protects the Jewish state and its residents from danger.[ix]  R.  Avrohom Karelitz, better  known as the Hazon Ish, opposed drafting both Haredi men[x] and women.[xi] But instead of referencing a supporting legal norm, Hazon Ish spoke of and wrote about the greatness of young Haredi men’s yeshiva study, which to his view may not be interrupted.  And disagreeing with the Great Rabbis’ rulings is not only an insult to those rabbis, but is  also seen as an implicit rebuff of the Divine Lawgiver Who is believed to have inspired those Great Rabbis,[xii] a topic to be addressed below. By claiming divine inspiration for themselves alone,[xiii] these  Great Sages grant themselves a virtual if not actual infallibility as well as immunity from critical review.[xiv]  Consequently, questioning these Great Rabbis’ power to intuit divine prescriptions is taken to be disrespectful both to Torah and to God.[xv]         

The canonical Oral Torah’s military conscription mandate is unambiguously clear:

“In the case of a Mitsvah War [a war of conquest or defense of the Holy Land, including the annihilation of Amaleq or a war in defense of Israel’s borders and population],[xvi] everyone goes out [to battle, i.e. is subject to conscription], even the groom from his room and his bride from her wedding canopy.”[xvii]

According to this Oral Torah norm, when Israel is at war with an invading enemy attacking its population, all Israel  is subject to the draft, Hazon Ish’s vigorous opposition notwithstanding. Since Hamas called for and acted upon its expressed intention to destroy the Jewish state,[xviii] this declared and waged war fits the canonical definition of a Mitsvah War, for which there are no exemptions.[xix] Hazon Ish glosses  the bSotah 44b passage cited above with the unsupported claim that the bride and her Torah-learning groom may be drafted only if the war cannot be won without their participation.[xx]   By attaching this particular  condition to an unattested but presumed Oral Torah norm, Hazon Ish boldly declares that the exemptions  halakhically approved for political or discretionary wars[xxi] also apply to Mitsvah Wars, implicitly justifying the relieving of Haredi men of their military obligation.[xxii]  When objecting to a  Haredi female draft, Hazon Ish appeals to “purity,” “holiness,” and the “religious conscience,” again without referencing any Halakhic norm or explaining why bSotah 44b’s compulsory draft norm should not be enforced.[xxiii] In his very next letter,[xxiv] Hazon Ish explains that morally pure Haredi  women may not participate in non-Haredi culture, which will not insist upon the gender segregation required by Haredi convention but not by any formal Oral Torah norm.[xxv]  For optional or political wars, there are designated exemptions from military service that are public record,[xxvi] including newlyweds [=who are first establishing families], vineyard planters [= people starting a new business venture, or engaging in other  productive, livelihood generating work], and arguably, even a confession of cowardice may qualify a petitioner for an exemption.[xxvii] Yeshivah students may claim their exemption from military service for an optional war. The Urim and Tummim oracles must approve initiating pre-emptive discretionary hostilities.[xxviii]  Their current and apparently permanent inaccessibility may indicate a Halakhic disapproval of all offensive or political wars.[xxix]

The Haredi elite selectively references Maimonides,[xxx] who maintains that in addition to the ancient Levites, every adult Jewish male is entitled to engage in full-time Torah learning. But this apologia ignores Maimonides’ vehement disapproval of learning Torah for financial consideration, who declares that

“anyone who takes upon oneself to be [exclusively] occupied with Torah, and not engage in [income generating] work, and [expecting to] be supported by charity, that person profanes God’s name, despises the Torah, extinguishes the light of the Law, brings ruin upon oneself, and removes oneself from the Eternity to come.”[xxxi]

While an individual has a right to be a full-time learner, there is no Halakhic  entitlement to financial compensation for that learning. These two Haredi positions, [a] avoiding military service when the Jewish homeland and/or its population are under attack, and [b] demanding   public funding for full-time Torah learners, conflict with the canonical Oral Torah norms cited above.  The claim that all Jewry ought to be full-time, salaried Torah students is plainly incompatible with the norm that outlaws receiving financial compensation for “professional” Torah study,[xxxii] because Torah learning is a sacred enterprise that precludes secularizing  instrumentalization. 

Second, as noted above, military service exemptions only apply for political or discretionary wars. Since the Hamas Charter calls for the destruction of the Jewish State, the October 7th conflict is a Mitsvah War, from which neither men nor women are exempt from service. Ironically, the seemingly most fervent, or “ultra” Orthodox, deny the legal validity of the explicit, legislated Oral Torah norm requiring universal conscription.[xxxiii]  We now turn to Jurisprudence, i.e. the “science” of law, to explain how and why fervently religious, Halakhically committed Jews ignore these explicit halakhic norms.

Jurisprudence is now dominated by Legal Realists who maintain that judges create law by filtering the legal order’s norms with their own enlightened, intellectually privileged intuitions, ideologies, and preferences to the cases brought before them. In contrast, Legal Positivists, also known as Legal Formalists, interpret and apply those norms as they are preserved in the legal order’s canonical library, based on the most compelling or reasonable reading of the norm’s syntax and semantics. Legal Formalists and Realists are found on both the political Right and Left. In American legal history, the Legal Positivist is the strict constructionist, Constitutional originalist “conservative” who is bound by the statute as it was initially formulated because the Constitution that validates the statute articulates the social contract by which the polity’s convening members had consented to be governed. Alternatively, the American Progressive Legal Realist applies his or her intuition informed conscience to advance a social justice agenda which, according to its advocates, is the Law as it ought to be. In the Orthodox Jewish orbit, leading rabbis have adopted a Legal Realism that invokes an  amorphous  “Tradition,”[xxxiv] or Mesorah, which for them is the Halakhically mandated, inherited religious ethos that the living community transmits from generation to generation, from parent to child, and from teacher to student.[xxxv] This “Tradition” celebrates the policy-driven, sectarian “otherness” that the living community deems to be sacred. R. Moshe Feinstein candidly concedes that he does not necessarily issue rulings based upon the pure, i.e. positive law, but he adjusts his rulings in order to be situationally appropriate.[xxxvi] Hans Kelsen’s Legal Positivist Pure Theory of Law[xxxvii]is anticipated by Maimonides’ Introduction to the Yad Compendium, which views Torah Law as an ordered, logical hierarchy of legal norms.[xxxviii]

Both Maimonides and Kelsen maintain that a legal order postulates its Basic Norm, the rule that actuates the legal order’s validity.[xxxix] The “orthodox” reading of the Oral Torah canon determines what the Torah’s norms and precedents oblige, forbid, and when silent, in fact permits. God is posited to be the Author of the Torah law, the Basic Norm[xl] of which is “obey the Commander of the [Oral and Written] Torah[s].” Rabbinic jurists apply  what H.L.A. Hart identifies as Rules of Obligation[xli] and Rules of Recognition[xlii] to the Torah’s legal order.  Rules of Obligation are the norms, or rules of the legal order. In  the case of Judaism, these are the mitsvot which require or forbid specific acts.[xliii]  The Oral Torah’s Basic Norm is called “the yoke of Heaven’s [=God’s] kingdom,” which in turn authorizes the canonical hierarchy of norms called the “Halakhah,[xliv] the “walk/way of Jewish life.”

 

In addition to the Oral Torah norm hierarchy, the Haredi rabbinic elite erects additional isolating culture barriers in order to preserve the countercultural otherness that it maintains the Oral Torah promotes.[xlv] In contrast to Haredi innovations that conflict with Oral Torah legislation, such as insisting upon  the yeshiva student exemption from military service  because it  fears  that its communal social cohesion will be compromised, other Orthodox rabbis  require military service,[xlvi]  even though this service requires a change in contemporary Jewish culture,[xlvii] like establishing and mandating IDF service that results in Shabbat violation. The fact that an act was not practiced in the past preserved in Israel’s collective memory does not imply that the act must be  forbidden in the present.[xlviii]  A Modern Orthodox Legal Positivist would likely postulates that Torah Law is initiated by God butis exegeted and applied by the human  members of the Bet Din ha-Gadol, or Halakhic Supreme Court, the norm creating body  authorized by the Torah to legislate the norms that carry the legal valence of God’s word.[xlix]  An Orthodox positivist observes the formal rules and norms of the Halakhic order, thereby acquiring holiness, or sanctification.[l]Holiness is notgenerated by performing rites in the present just because they were observed in the past by the community.  Canonical Oral Torah Law does not authorize a commandment blessing recitation unless an actual positive, or “to do” Toraitic or Rabbinic command is about to be performed. This principle is inferred from the Hoshanah Rabbah “beating the willow” rite, which only carries the valence of custom, is not prefaced by a commandment blessing, its antiquity notwithstanding.[li] Unlike mitsvot, which are commanded norms that generate sanctity, customs are human conventions that do not generate sanctity, rendering the commandment blessing contextually inappropriate.  However, the great  medieval Legal Realist, R. Jacob b. Meir Tam, permits the commandment blessing to be recited on some occasions when an actual commandment is not being performed. He extends the commandment benediction’s application to acts not required of the person by formal enactment [= taqannah].[lii] R. Jacob Tam also extends the minor fast day obligation until dark, as opposed to sunset.[liii] According to the Oral Torah rule of recognition for resolving conflicts between opposing  views of equal standing, Torah doubts are resolved stringently, while rabbinic disputes are decided leniently.[liv] Since the minor fast day observance is a rabbinic obligation, and this day’s dusk is a time that is doubtful day and doubtful night, the rabbinic fasting obligation would logically lapse at sunset.[lv]   Extending the fast until dark is  irregular because rabbinic doubts are usually resolved leniently. R. Jacob Tam justifies  extending the fast until nightfall,[lvi]not by appealing to a canonical legal principle or precedent that might serve as a legitimating rule of recognition, but by invoking his own self-validating rule of recognition, “our [=his] ancestors' customs are Torah,”[lvii] an idiom that recurs in his Responsa,[lviii]and which should be taken literally, seriously, and not be dismissed as mere hyperbolic flourish. This bold claim, that what Israel happens to practice is what Israel ought to practice, because this behavior carries the valence of “Torah,” which as noted above, is also “the word of the Lord.”[lix] R. Jacob Tam’s approach is perplexing because it assumes that sacred people, i.e. his own rabbinic elite, do not err.  However, Hebrew Scripture teaches that “there is no human so righteous who does [only] good and [who] does not sin,”[lx] “the entire community may be in error,”[lxi] and there is a specific sacrificial offering made when all Israel violates  certain Torah prohibitions.[lxii] The Oral Torah also entertains the possibility that all Israel  may indeed be at fault.[lxiii]

 

R. Jacob Tam’s doctrine,  that what Jewry actually practices, if accepted by “our” ancestors, is reified into Torah, i.e. the “word of the Lord,” is incompatible with Maimonides’ view, that a custom assumes the valence of a Rabbinic norm only when it is adopted by all Israel because, like the Babylonian Talmud’s rulings,[lxiv] it was accepted as binding by all Israel.[lxv]  And such a universally practiced custom will still not trigger a commandment blessing obligation,[lxvi] at least 

according to Maimonides.[lxvii]  After Ravina I and R. Ashi, the rabbinic authority to issue apodictic legislation had lapsed,[lxviii] with the validating benchmark being the cogency of the claim [da’at notah] regarding the actual meaning of the canonical norm, but not in the charismatic, intuitive insight of any  rabbi, however “great” that person may be.[lxix] If unvetted oral traditions, popular usage, and an individual’s rabbinic charisma are sufficient to render and reify social conventions into Torah, we have identified  two Orthodox iterations, the Maimonidean normative order described above, and the alternate Tosafist Orthodoxy that has been  studied by Urbach,[lxx] Ta Shma,[lxxi] Reiner,[lxxii] and Faur, who focused on the  Tosafist scholastic use of word play[lxxiii] that justifies a Legal  Realism by redefining the words in which the legal norm is cast.[lxxiv]

 

Maimonides’  Orthodoxy is popularly accepted by the living community in principle, is logical, accessibly readable, and understandable when  read according to its plain sense semantic meaning. This Orthodoxy maintains that Israel committed itself at Mt. Sinai to uphold the Torah, which is its constitution, and which nullifies any subsequent legislation that contradicts this constitution’s provisions.[lxxv]  The other Orthodoxy, championed by the Tosafists and seconded by Nahmanides, is binding in practice, it does not subject its leaders to assessment, and its canonized texts are understandable and applicable  only by its own rabbinic elite.[lxxvi] This alternative Orthodox elite is so charismatically endowed that it assumes a canonicity sufficient to override, and the case of the Haredi draft, ignore problematic Oral Torah norms. In order to empower the communal will to override canonized norms, the charismatic great rabbi becomes a canonized person.[lxxvii] But when a human elite assumes canonicity, it becomes hierarchically superior to its constituent and now subject population.[lxxviii] Hierarchical communities do not tolerate a reading public because reading empowers readers to think independently of the society’s hierarchical leadership.   According to Maimonidean Judaism, Jewish political sovereignty is limited, unlike pagan political thought and hierarchical Judaism for which “[t]he Rex’s authority is absolute.”[lxxix] 

R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik’s academic historian son, Prof. Haym Soloveitchik, astutely observed that

“[t]he classic Ashkenazic position for centuries, one which saw the practice of the people as an expression of halakhic truth. It is no exaggeration to say that the Ashkenazic community saw the law as manifesting itself in two forms: in the canonized written corpus (the Talmud and codes), and in the regnant practices of the people. Custom as a correlative datum of the halakhic system. And, on frequent occasions, the written word was reread in light of tradition. This dual tradition of the intellectual and the mimetic, the law as taught  and the law as practiced, which stretched back for centuries, begins to break down in the … closing decades of the nineteenth century.”[lxxx]

As a disciplined, emotionally detached academic observer, H. Soloveitchik concedes that the Ashkenazi Orthodox world into which he was born maintained that Torah law appears both [a] in the logical reading and parsing of the written tradition as well as [b] the socially appropriate and communally acceptable prescriptions of the mimetic culture tradition. He also concedes that these two normative orders occasionally conflict. 

While Prof. H. Soloveitchik  concedes that these two traditions occasionally conflict, his father, modern Orthodoxy’s elite Great Rabbi, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik,  also adopts a “dual Orthodoxy” doctrine,[lxxxi]  presenting the issue much more lucidly than his Haredi counterparts, but does not address the conflict directly.  Like the Haredi leaders who claim but do not demonstrate that or how their Great Rabbis possess ru’ah ha-Qodesh, usually rendered “holy spirit,"[lxxxii]  R. Soloveitchik exegetes the passage “Moses commanded us [=the people who constitute “Israel”] a Torah [= Law], an inheritance [=possession, Hebrew “morashah”] of the congregation of Jacob,”[lxxxiii]  by citing an aggadic midrash that playfully emends “morashah” to me’orasah,”[lxxxiv]the Halakhic engagement period during which a couple is legally married, but physical  intimacy remains forbidden until after nesu’in, which is the concluding marital rite.[lxxxv]  R. Soloveitchik then suggests that while most rabbis are only “engaged” to Torah, the very greatest of rabbis, like R. Yitzhak Ze’ev[lxxxvi] and R. Hayyim Soloveitchik[lxxxvii] of Brisk, possessed intimate and therefore precisely accurate understandings of Torah. Their intimacy with Torah both affirms and informs their Torah mastery, protecting them from error and immunizing them from assessment by lower grade sages who are not endowed with the charismatic greatness that nourishes the requisite intimacy that insures inerrancy.[lxxxviii]  R. Soloveitchik’s  bold rendering of  “[r]emember the days of yore, consider the years of many generations; ask your father, and he will inform you, your elders, and they will tell you,”[lxxxix] refers to  his second type of Tradition that does not appear among the Oral Torah’s validating rules of recognition.[xc]  This passage’s plain sense asserts that a Jewish child imbibes Israel’s foundation narrative from one’s father and grandfather.[xci] R. Soloveitchik maintains that  the “elders” in this context not only refers to the canonical library’s Sages,[xcii] but includes post-R. Ashi latter-day Great Rabbis as well. For R. Soloveitchik, the first type of Tradition, which we will call “Tradition I,”[xciii] was the single sense of Tradition initially and duly defined by Maimonides.[xciv]  But according to Maimonides, those [Oral] Torah laws not memorialized in the Pentateuch which were given to Moses at Sinai are the only Torah norms that are not subject to exegetic dispute.[xcv]  R. Soloveitchik boldly and creatively[xcvi]  equates the inherited Orthodox mimetic culture with the Torah laws said to be transmitted to Moses at Sinai that do not appear in the Pentateuch, contending that neither  set of laws are subject to dispute. We name this mimetic culture “Tradition II.” The urbane Orthodox lawyer, R. Avrohom Gordimer, regards this second type of “tradition” to be the essential “uncodified part of Torah”[xcvii]  that while cognitively accessible only to the rabbinic elite, it obliges all who profess an Orthodox identity.  Since [a] the Orthodox rabbinic elite are virtually if not actually infallible, and [b]  its patrician rabbis may not be subject to plebian, rabbinic review, it is gauche at best and  impudently heretical at worse to expose this inconsistently, because the exposure of these facts will expose these rabbis to criticism. The  Orthodox Legal Positivist focuses on the Torah’s memorialized legal norms, while Orthodox Legal Realists in general and Haredi Great Rabbis in particular will ignore positive Oral Torah norms if their implementation might undermine communal coherence, or stability. 

As noted above, according to both Written[xcviii] and Oral Torah[xcix] accounts, human sanctity is generated solely and only by complying with the Torah’s norms.  However, Nahmanides claims that one may also become holy by doing more than the Law requires, by avoiding impurity, and by “not being a law-abiding scoundrel.”[c] How Nahmanides “knows” or intuits that God expects this particular set of unlegislated behavior of Jewry is unaddressed. And R. Joseph Soloveitchik’s loyal and learned disciple, R. Menachem Genack, reports that R. Soloveitchik placed himself in the Nahmanidean “tradition”[ci]  according to which a Great Rabbi’s charismatic intuition is indeed a validating normative source. But the Oral Torah canon does not recognize unvetted intuitions or unaccountable  charisma to be sources of normative law.[cii] Furthermore, Nahmanides makes the remarkable claim, also unattested in the Written and Oral Torah libraries, that the remains of righteous Jews do not defile[ciii] because these persons died by the kiss of God,[civ] and not as punishment for an original sin or for succumbing to the evil impulse.[cv]  This doctrine, that the remains of righteous Jews do not defile, did find its way into the Zohar.[cvi] Ever exquisitely consistent, R. Soloveitchik does not consider Maimonides to be an Halakhic Man[cvii] because Maimonides opposed including unvetted, intrusive poetry [piyyut] into the canonical liturgy.[cviii] Since Maimonides regards Halakhah to be a  systematically pure, positive law, he would not likely recognize R. Soloveitchik’s second, mimetic folk Tradition II Orthodoxy as carrying significant normative valence in his jurisprudence.[cix]

We are now in a position to explain both how and why Haredi Orthodoxy opposes its adherents’ military service, while ignoring the Oral Torah norm requiring that service. Hazon Ish’s not only disapproves of pressuring full-time yeshiva students into mandatory military service, he also demands an unquestioning deference to the Haredi rabbinic elite’s virtual infallibility regarding practice, belief, and social policy.[cx] This Orthodoxy also requires that its contemporary elite rabbis be regarded as angelic by the faithful, further immunizing themselves from peer review by those Orthodox rabbis who are not charismatically endowed.[cxi]   Because those rabbis lack the requisite religious charisma, they are not really peers who are capable of assessment.  While R. Soloveitchik maintains that one may argue with the canonical texts of Tradition I, he insists, by affirmation but not by demonstration, that Tradition II does not tolerate dissent, disagreement, or dispute. Jewry is obliged to defer to the leading Sages of the age in social policy matters as well as ritual Halakhah.[cxii]  Like R. Jacob Tam and Hazon Ish, R. Soloveitchik is also a Legal Realist for whom the Law is not limited to the canonical norm’s dry letter; it is the charismatically endowed, exceptional rabbinic person who, with God’s guidance, is empowered to intuit a suitable synthesis of official religion Oral Torah norms  and socially accepted, folk religion expectations. 

  In their zeal to preserve the unchanging “traditions” of mimetic culture's collective memory, Orthodox Legal Realists can be boldly innovative.  R. Soloveitchik’s most outstanding living disciple,   R. Herschel Schachter denounces women prayer groups for violating the putative principle that he calls  “ziyyuf ha-Torah,” the counterfeiting, forging, or distorting of Torah.[cxiii] While this idiom is unattested in the Oral Torah canon, it does appear in R. Moses Isserles’ writing as “mezayyefei ha-Torot yatsriah [sic],[cxiv] which may be rendered “the [Written and] Oral Torahs’ falsifiers will scream [in protest].” R. Isserles does not identify the persons  to whom he refers or to what falsification he is addressing.  This idiom recurs in R. Ahron Kotler’s lectures collected by his students, where the idiom serves a polemical function, to identify and condemn those Orthodox rabbinic “accommodators” or  persons who cooperate with non-Orthodox rabbis, whom R. Kotler calls “zayyafanim,”[cxv] or habitual falsifiers of Torah, and whose Orthodox bona fides he forcefully rejects.  The Orthodox rabbis who interact professionally with non-Orthodox rabbis argue that their conduct is a matter of policy, which allows for discretion and disagreement. R. Kotler contends that only a Great Sage, like himself, is authorized to interpret Torah normativity precisely, accurately, and with presumed or assumed infallibility.  Justifying opinions solely on the basis of a logical reading of the canonical text, i.e. any act that is not formally forbidden is in fact implicitly permitted,[cxvi] is to his view a misrepresentation of Torah. The classical idiom, "megalleh panim ba-Torah shel-lo ke-Halakhah," or one “who interprets the Torah contrary to its true intent,”[cxvii] is appropriately not referenced.  The issue is not the meaning of the positive Oral Torah norm, but the divinely guided charismatic sage’s ability and authority to intuit what God, through the medium of the Oral Torah, really intends and truly requires.  Accordingly, Jewish propriety may not be determined by the legal norms memorialized in accessible compendia alone.  For both Rabbis Kotler and Soloveitchik, this propriety is revealed in and by the communally accepted and rabbinically approved mores, habits, and expectations. When expressed by Rabbis Isserles and Kotler, the word “mezayyef” refers to persons who falsify Torah. R. Schachter appropriates the idiom to formulate an abstract noun, “ziyyuf,” to refer to a principle that expresses his own unwavering disapproval of the women’s prayer group institution, which violates the socially conditioned expectations of Tradition II even though it may not violate any identifiable norm of Tradition I.

R. Schachter presents a brilliant rhetorical strategy that reifies social policy into what he is convinced ought to be accepted as a legal norm.  In order to realize this end, he invents a novel rule of recognition that empowers its implementor to veto dissenting voices by invoking his own charismatic authority. However, according to Tradition I Orthodoxy, as noted above, no body and nobody has the legal authority to promulgate apodictic Oral Torah norms after Ravina I and Rav Ashi’s Bet Din ha-Gadol.  Simply put, Tradition I  Orthodoxy is unaware of this suggested norm.

Since IDF military service inevitably removes the young Haredi man or woman from Haredi authority, supervision, and most critically, social control, the Haredi elite must formulate a legitimating apologia to keep its young adults in its community. The innocent Haredi adherent may not be permitted to find a place outside of Haredi social control. The IDF is a military organization, not a religious institution.  It is led by generals whose mission it is to defend the polity and people of Israel, but not to test God’s patience by relying on miracles.[cxviii] The military’s mission is to provide protective, deterrent lethality, not reverential piety or religious revival.[cxix]  The Haredi young man and woman will find military life challenging, if not hostile, to the social reality in which she or he are raised.

Haredi Orthodoxy presents itself as a religion of law, and attaches the force of Halakhic norm to its policies. Its legitimating authority is located in the personal charisma of the ruling’s author.[cxx] R. Jacob Tam’s claim that “the customs of our [=his] ancestors are [also] To[AY1] rah,”[cxxi] invests those customs with the status of the “word of the Lord.”[cxxii] While this doctrine is unattested in the canonical library, it appears in what is claimed to be the divinely inspired intuition possessed by post-Talmudic charismatic Great Rabbis, initially and most prominently by R.  Jacob Tam. Even though the compulsory conscription norm is memorialized at mSotah 44b, it must be disregarded, superseded, and essentially repealed because the divinely inspired Great Rabbis have, with the authority generated by their charisma, so declared.[cxxiii]

For the Haredi world and those modern Orthodox who view the Haredi approach to be the Jewish religious ideal,[cxxiv] authentic authority is vested in the gavra, the charismatic person who is presumedly inspired and guided by God, providentially protected from error, and thus immune to review. However, other Orthodox voices find normative Jewish teaching in the canon’s peshat, the plain sense heftsa, or object, of the canonized Written and Oral Torah readable libraries. This Orthodoxy allows its adherents to read, think, and apply Torah if they are able to do so.[AY2] 

This classical understanding of Torah, maintains that the Law is no longer in heaven, and dismisses ad hoc oracular legislation as invalid.[cxxv] What God had to say [or command] has been memorialized in the canonical library, and concurring with R. Soloveitchik’s Tradition I’s rule of recognition, that there are no valid secret or oracular laws in the Halakhah and all claims to the contrary are invalid. Authentic Jewish normativity is discovered by reading, explicating, and applying canonical Torah norms to everyday life.


According to R. Jacob Tam’s Orthodoxy, the Great Sage possesses the charisma that empowers him to read, discover, and decode God’s will,  without being subject to account for the accuracy or consequences of his rulings. By disregarding the troublesome norm requiring universal military conscription for a defensive war, this Orthodoxy applies Legal Realism to reify the charismatics’ normative intuition into Torah law.  Alternatively, Maimonides’ Orthodoxy, grounded in Legal Positivism, locates legal “truth” in the Covenantal canon’s readable, public, human language words.  Therefore, if one adopts the Tradition I Orthodoxy encoded in the sacred library, one commits to the legal norm memorialized in the canon that requires universal` conscription.  But according to R. Jacob Tam’s Legal Realism, Torah truth is located in the living, sacred community, vetted and approved by the Great Sages, who is guided by God to issue legally and theologically correct rulings, even if those rulings conflict with the textually memorialized  canonical norm.

By placing the locus of Jewish normative value in the object of the readable,  sacred text, Tradition I Orthodoxy posits an understandable Torah, a capable laity, and a leadership that empowers its population to read and to discover Torah  peshat, or plain sense meaning.[cxxvi]  Institutional Orthodoxy affirms Tradition I Maimonidean legal theory in principle but applies Legal Realism in practice in order to respond immediately and effectively to disruptive social challenges. R. Jacob Tam would likely regard Maimonides’ approach to be incomplete, because it denies the post-Talmudic Legal Realist the authority to create necessary law.[cxxvii]  R. Jacob Tam, R. Joseph Soloveitchik, and Hazon Ish all agree that mimetic Orthodoxy, with its laws, values, and attitudes, makes valid, mandatory demands of Jewry.[cxxviii] Maimonides, the formulator of  Tradition I and R. Soloveitchik’s first  type of Tradition, focuses on legal norms, not attitudes, principles, or values.  And R. Soloveichik very correctly did not associate  Tradition II mimetic Orthodoxy, his second type of Tradition, with Maimonides, who would view R. Jacob Tam’s Orthodoxy to be in error.[cxxix] 

In sum,

  1. Because the State of Israel has been at war since October 7, 2023, and its armed forces consists of a citizen’s army that constantly musters its reserves to meet the needs of the moment, there is an outcry that the Haredi world share the military service burden.

  2. At bSotah 44b, the canonical Tradition obliges both women and men to perform military service when Israel is under attack. Haredi Judaism ignores this Oral Torah mandate, appealing instead to its subculture’s ideology to justify its position.

  3. In Judaism, “Tradition” appears in two forms, Tradition I, the transfer of the Written and Oral Torah library object [heftsa] from one generation’s Bet Din ha-Gadol to the next, and Tradition II, the inherited mimetic culture Tradition that is lived and transmitted by the community of the committed from one generation to the next, guided by a charismatic rabbinic elite that proclaims the ability  to “read between the Torah’s lines.”

  4. Maimonides regards Tradition I to be the necessary and sufficient boundary marker of normative Jewish propriety, viewing Tradition II as a fact to be described, but not as an “ought” that commands compliance.

  5. The medieval R. Jacob Tam and Nahmanides and the 20th Century’s R. Ahron Kotler  and R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik all assign a normative valence to Tradition II, that valence being determined by the Great Sage’s intuition. By assigning a normative valence to Tradition II conventions and regulations, Haredi religion and its more urbane admirers believe that it is better equipped to respond to immediate challenges because its rabbinic elite is empowered to intuitively read the mind of God.
  6. The institutional Orthodox community professes and confesses commitment to the normative order of Tradition I but lives its life according the popular religion sensibilities of Tradition II.  Tradition I locates authority in the saved Book; Tradition II finds this authority inf the charisma of the sacred person.


 


[vi]http://timesofisrael.com/ultra-orthodox-incensed-as-idf-chief-orders-boost-in-communitys-conscriwwption/ and ”[t]he court ruled that a government decision from June 2023 instructing the army not to begin drafting eligible Haredi men — issued after the law allowing for blanket military service exemptions expired — was illegal, and that the government must therefore actively work to conscript ultra-Orthodox recruits to the IDF.” https://www.timesofisrael.com/in-historic-ruling-high-court-says-government-must-begin-drafting-haredi-men-into-idf/#:~:text=The%20court%20ruled%20that%20a,Orthodox%20recruits%20to%20the%20IDF. The Haredi parties                  hope to protecting the yeshiva learning exemption by enacting a Basic Law in order to raise  the exemption policy to a Constitutionally protected institution. See https://www.timesofisrael.com/liveblog_entry/haredi-parties-seek-to-enshrine-torah-study-in-basic-law-to-protect-draft-exemptions/.

[vii] YNET reports that “The IDF Chief of Staff warned yesterday [3/25/2026] in a cabinet discussion that the IDF will collapse from within in light of the fact that the government has not passed a law to regulate ultra-Orthodox conscription, has not amended the reserve duty law and has not acted to extend mandatory service. 'The reserves won't hold up, I'm raising 10 red flags,’ Zamir added, in remarks first reported by Channel 13 News.” (Ynet) https://www.ynetnews.com/category/3089 .

[viii] “[I]n  changing its longstanding draft policy, the Israeli government is engaging in religious persecution and threatening the continued existence of our people as the nation of Torah, and putting the entire nation in danger.” https://www.shtetl.org/article/u-s-haredi-leadership-consensus-lamenting-israel-yeshiva-draft. Former Sefardi Chief Rabbi Yitzhak Yosef threatened 
“If the government arrests yeshiva students for dodging the draft, then the ultra-Orthodox community will be forced to leave Israel.” https://www.timesofisrael.com/ex-chief-rabbi-if-haredi-draft-dodgers-arrested-ultra-orthodox-will-leave-israel/. Natan Slifkin reports that "[l]eading figures of the major chassidic sects - Gur, Tzanz, Vizhnitz, Belz - along with a major Sephardic authority and R. Machpud have signed an announcement - a halachic ruling! - that is is forbidden for any religious Jew to enlist in the IDF, period. It is specifically addressed to those who are not involved in Torah study. While there is no letter from Litvishe rabbinic leaders, they have made it clear that their position is the same.” https://www.rationalistjudaism.com/p/the-charedim-officially-secede.

[x]Hazon Ish, Orah Hayyim, 6:3. 

[xi] “It is known that there exists, against the prevalent [cultural] current, modest young women under the ethos of their parents, who are a holy seed, glaring as the sky. Their fathers are in [constant] enjoyment from the splendor of purity of their offspring, who have neither taste nor flavor of sin. The damage to their daughters in forcing them [to join the army], in any possible way, would, in the present situation, cause unparalleled heartbreak for both the fathers and daughters, on the one hand, and truly endanger the entire path of purity and sanctity of our precious students who remain for us as a remnant. The feeling of my soul rules that it is a matter of ‘yehareg ve’al ya’avor’ (that one must die rather than transgress), and maybe this is also true from the halakhic point of view.” Avrohom Karelitz, Collected Letters [Hebrew], )B’nei B’raq: 1948) 1:112 [my italics], translation by Benjamin Brown. N.B. that for Hazon Ish, the “feeling of his soul” is attributed to God’s presumed gift of charisma.  The Written Torah argues otherwise. Deuteronomy opens [1:1] with demonstrative pronoun, “these are the words,” implying that Deuteronomy’s Mosaic soliloquy is no more and no less than what the text reports. Deut. 4:2 outlaws both adding to and subtracting from the Law, Deut. 13:1-6 proclaims that prophets and dreamers, i.e. charismatics who profess the ability to read God’s mind, are judged by “these [same exoteric, readable] words,” which “are not in Heaven” [Deut. 30:12].  To mystify the Written Law is to mis define it.

[xii] Benjamin Brown, “Lightning Responsa: Toward a Halakhic Realism [Hebrew],” Dine Israel 35-36 (5782), pp. 127-128.   Brown’s keenly insightful observation that the implicit authority assumed by the laconic responses to the “lightning queries” addressed to carriers of Da’at Torah charisma, is inconsistent with classical Rabbinic legal doctrine. As a  critical scholar in search of “objective” truth, Brown applies ideologically neutral  analytic tools and methods when explicating his data.  By calling attention to the differencs between Da’at Torah “orthodoxy” and the Orthodox religion encoded in the canonical Rabbinic library, Brown is also a participant observer in the struggle to define Orthodoxy’s normative parameters.   At “Orthodox Halakhah and Custom: The Decisions of the Hazon Ish as a Case Study” (Hebrew),  in  Orthodox Judaism: New Perspectives, ed., (Hebrew) Yosef Salmon, Aviezer Ravitsky, and Adam Fergizer (Jerusalem: Magnes, 2006),  p. 221, B. Brown summarizes his findings regarding Hazon Ish’s position, that [a] the Oral Law sages define Jewish Orthodoxy, but [b] only the great rabbis of the generation have a right to express a legitimate opinion.  This  finding anticipates our conclusion, that we are dealing with two distinct iterations of Jewish Orthodoxy.

[xiii]  Benjamin Brown, “Jewish Political Theology: The Doctrine of ‘Daՙat Torah’ as a Case Study,” The Harvard Theological Review, 107:3 (July 2014) , p. 282, “[I]n the view of those who attribute to Da'at Torah a halakhic status, such as the Hazon Ish and the Brisker Rov, there is no feasible way to criticize Da'at Torah, since it exists on a plane completely above that of the test of outcomes: the Great Torah Sages rule on the proper course of action, and believers must follow their guidance, without any expectation of a reward in this world.” See Natan Slifkin, ”R. Elefant, in his presentation [at the Agudah Yerushalayim Yarchei Kallah], claimed that nobody, including himself, is actually allowed to have an opinion on this [drafting yeshiva students into the IDF]. Only the Charedi Gedolim are allowed to have opinions, because it’s ‘the ultimate Klal Yisroel issue… it’s about the clash of right and wrong and good and evil’ (which, ironically, I think we all agree on), and only the Charedi Gedolim have pure Daas Torah views.”] https://www.rationalistjudaism.com/p/the-elefant-in-the-room.

[xiv] Brown, Ibid. and Bernard Weinberger, ThRole of the Gedolim," Supra., Jewish Observer (October 1963), p. 6. This idiom is properly rendered “spirit of holiness.”

[xv] “The [Daas Torah] doctrine posited a special kind of divine inspiration with which great Torah scholars were endowed, which enabled them to offer the best solutions for political and social problems of the day,” in Gershon Bacon, Daas Toyre, https://encyclopedia.yivo.org/article/1427 . See also   Yitzhak Blau, “’Daas Torah’ Revisited: Contemporary Discourse about the [Orthodox] Rabbinate,” Tradition 48:2-3 (2015), pp. 8-28. See also Benjamin Brown,  “Jewish Political Theology,” p. 285,  “the fact that the ‘Great Sage of the Generation’ was expected to employ Daat Torah on a daily basis and not just once in several decades. As a result, the doctrine was expected to withstand the test of outcomes. Although it would still be possible to defend Daat Torah by means of a dogma of infallibility, it was clearly more palatable to defend it through more nuanced, even banal means, such as those of Rabbi Dessler: we, who are so ‘small,’ simply cannot comprehend the thought processes of the Great Torah Sages; even more so, we cannot [=may not] judge them.”

[xvi] See Maimonides, Laws of Kings  5:1.

[xvii] bSotah 44b, Sifri Deuteronomy 198:9, and Maimonides, Supra., 6:4 [my italics]. At Hazon Ish, Even ha-‘Ezer, Hilkhot Ishut, 27:20 adopts this position.

[xix] Hazon Ish only intended to exempt full-time Torah students, not every individual Haredi person. Benjamin Brown, “The Chazon Ish —The Decisor, the Believer, and the Leader
of the Charedi Revolution” (New York  and Jerusalem: Magnes and Yeshiva University Press,2011), p. 304. 

[xxi] Deuteronomy 20:5-7 and 21:10  as understood by Sifri to Deuteronomy 21:10, pisqa 211.

[xxii] which requires that “everyone goes out (to battle).”

[xxiii]Collected Letters  1:111, p. 123.

[xxiv]Ibid. 1:112, p. 124.

[xxvi] Deuteronomy 20:5-7.

[xxvii] Deuteronomy 20:8.

[xxviii] bYoma 73b.

[xxix] In Alfred Cohen, “On Yeshiva Men Serving in the Army,” Journal of Halachah and Contemporary Society 23  (Spring 1992), conveniently at https://www.daat.ac.il/daat/english/halacha/cohen_1.htm, takes pains  to avoid addressing the conflict between the pure law that requires wartime military service and Haredi policy, that opposes Haredi Jews living under non-Haredi authority.  This apologia is not the only Orthodox opinion. See Chaim Jachter, https://www.koltorah.org/halachah/should-yeshivah-students-serve-in-the-israeli-army-part-two-by-rabbi-chaim-jachter: “There does seem to be a strong Halachic basis for claiming that there is a Mitzvah to serve in the IDF, as it defends the Jewish people. Nonetheless, many rabbis argue that service in the Israel Defense Forces  is a Mitzvah that others, who do not study full-time, are able to perform. However, there are prominent rabbis, such as Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, who view army service for Yeshivah students as a moral imperative.” See also https://etzion.org.il/en/halakha/studies-halakha/laws-state-and-society/should-yeshivah-students-serve-israeli-army.   Jachter locates legal authority in both the canonical text and, when the canon’s legal conclusion is indeterminate, turns to the charisma of authority person to reach his conclusion.  At Jerusalem Post, June 28, 2024, Israel ha-Yom, June 30, 2024, and     

https://davidmweinberg.com/2024/06/28/haredi-draft-ideology-debunked/, David M, Weinberg presents a passionate polemic based on fairness and exposing self-serving Haredi hyperbole. Our study examines the contours of an Orthodox Judaism that ignores its defining legal system that it proclaims to be God-given and immutable.

 

[xxx]Sabbatical and Jubilee Years 13:13.

[xxxi]Talmud Torah 3:10.

[xxxii]  mAvot 4:6.                                                                                                                                    

[xxxiii]Deuteronomy 17:11 as understood by Sifre Shofetim 154:11, s.v. ‘al.

[xxxiv] The first Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik (1820-1892) disallowed the renewal of the blue tallit tassel on the tallit “despite the presence of convincing evidence otherwise, rabbinic authority has no right to either introduce or reinstate practices without a tradition that attests to its legitimacy. Thousands of years ago there was a tradition that identified the dye but that was lost long ago and we are powerless to restore it, regardless of the evidence. Perhaps it will be revealed to us in the future, but for now we cannot resurrect this tradition.” Chaim Burman, “The invocation of mesorah in contemporary Orthodox Jewish legal discourse: polysemic and reified usages,   Journal of Modern Jewish Studies 20:1 (2021) p. 24.

[xxxv] Joseph B.  Soloveitchik,   “Two Types of Tradition [Hebrew], in Shi’urim le-Zecher Abba Mori [Jerusalem: Aqiva Yosef, 1983), p. 226.

[xxxvi]  Introduction to Iggerot Moshe, Orah Hayyim vol. I.

[xxxvii]  Hans Kelsen, Pure Theory of Law, trans. Max Knight (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London, University of California, 1967), p. 1, the “pure theory of law…only describes the law and attempts to eliminate from the object of this description everything that is not strictly law. Its aim is to free the science [=in the sense of systematic study]  of law from other elements [like theology, sociology, or politics].”

[xxxviii] See Alan J. Yuter, ”Positivist Rhetoric and its Functions Haredi Orthodoxy," Jewish Political Studies 8:1 & 2 (Spring 1996).

[xxxix] Kelsen,  Supra., p. 194.

[xli] H.L.A. Hart, The Concept of Law (Oxford: Clarendon, 1979), p. 73.                                       

[xlii] The Rule of Recognition provides “the criteria by which the other norms of the system are assessed.” Ibid., p. 103. These are the rules that validate the norms, or Rules of Obligation, of a legal order.

[xliii] Kelsen, Supra., p. 5.

[xlv] According to this view, the holiness referenced in Leviticus 19:2 is achieved by being “other,” as evidenced by the Halakhic Midrash Safra Qedoshim Parashah 1 1:1 and Rashi to Leviticus 19:2.

[xlvi] Aharon Lichtensstein, “The Ideology of Hesder,” at https://www.haretzion.org/about-us/ideology-of-hesder.

[xlvii]Bet  Yosef to Yoreh De’ah 1:1, where Maran Qaro  contends that absent  an explicit, restrictive norm, one may not infer that a restriction is attended.  The fact that in Ashkenazi Judaism women did not perform ritual slaughter does not imply that women are in fact forbidden  by statutory norm  to perform that rite. 

[xlviii] See Gm’Eduyyot 2:2 for the Halakhic rule of recognition that requires evidence of a duly promulgated    norm is required in order  to argue that a prohibition is in fact present. The fact that an act was not done does not mean the act is prohibited.  

[xlix] Deuteronomy 17:8-12 and Isaiah 2:3. The designated, legislative assembly is sanctioned by the  Written Torah  to legislate what became known as “Oral Torah,” and is what Isaiah calls a “Torah” that originates  from Zion—and not Sinai—is also the “word of the Lord.”

[l] See Numbers 15:40. The rabbinic commandment blessing formula praises the Lord “Who has sanctified Israel by means of the commandments.”  A halakhic norm’s features are determined by the legislation by which it was enacted as  legal commandment norm, but not by its antiquity.

[li]bSukkah 44a.

[lii] Tosafot to bBerachot 14a s.v. yamim  and Tosafot to b’Arachin 10a, s.v. yod het See also R. Jacob Tam’s gloss to bRosh ha-Shanah 43a, s.v. ha Rabbi Yehudah, where the license for permit women to say the commandment blessing for rites that men are obliged to perform but women are not. R. Jacob Tam regards faulty blessings less severely than the plain sense of the Oral Torah as memorialized at Maimonides, Hilkhot Berachot 1:15 and Shulhan Aruch Orah Hayyim 215:4. R. Jacob Tam argues that the exegesis of "not taking the Lord's name in vain" should be read as a rhetorical flourish and not be taken literally.  As Faur, Supra., has shown, this argument is a powerful tool for jurists who claim the authority to legislate, and declare that the statute’s plain sense semantic meaning need not be taken literally.

[liii] Tosafot to bMenahot 20b,  s.v. nifsal.

[liv] b’Avodah Zarah 7a.

[lv] bTa’anit 12a.

[lvi]Tosafot  to bMenahot 20b, s.v. nifsal mi-sheqiyyyat ha-hammah.

[lvii] Sefer ha-Yashar 48:6. Tosafot  to bMenahot 20b, s.v. nifsal mi-sheqiyyat ha-hammah. See Ta Shma Supra., p. 21. Like Brown, Ta Shma is not just a disinterested, academic scholar.  By contrasting R. Jacob Tam’s Judaism with the “orthodox” Judaism encoded in the Oral Torah library, both Brown and Ta Shma call attention to the fact that the canon they describe is incompatible with the Judaism R. Jacob Tam prescribes. For a magisterial explication of R. Jacob Tam’s immense legacy, see Avraham Reiner, Rabbebu Tam: Interpretation, Halakhah, Controversy [Hebrew] (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan, 2021). Reiner is Ta Shma’s doctoral student and continues his mentor’s project, of understanding the Halakhah in its historical contexts. 

[lviii]Tosafot  to bMenahot 20b, s.v. nifsal mi-sheqiyyat ha-hammah.

[lix] Isaiah 2:3.

[lx] Ecclesiastes 7:20.

[lxi] Numbers 15:26.

[lxii]  Leviticus 4:13.

[lxiii] mHorayyot 1:1-3.

[lxiv] See bSanhedrin 33a, where it is reported that an act of Rabbinic legislation does not shed its force if  the circumstances that motivated the legislation are no longer present. An act of legislation by a Bet  Din ha-Gadol, or Halakhic supreme court. requires a legislative act of repeal by a Supreme Court that is greater in wisdom and number than the court that issued the legislative act in the first place.

[lxv] Introduction to the Yad compendium.  This doctrine maintains that a custom that is universally accepted by all Israel has the force of din, or settled law. See  R. Yitshaq ibn Jiyyat, Hilkhot Pesahim 327, Shulhan ‘Arukh,  Orah Hayyim, Megillah u-Furim 690:7,  and R. David Ha-Levi, ‘Aseh Lekha Rav 3:21.

[lxvi] See bTa’anit  28b for the Oral Torah rule of not reciting a commandment blessing for the Hallel [Psalms 113—118] prayers on the New Moon semi-holiday.  There are 18 days in the Holy Land [and 21 days in the Diaspora] on which one is obliged to complete the Hallel. By deleting two section passages of Hallel on the New Moon, [a] one is not saying “’the’ Hallel,” because [b] there is no claim being made that this practice is a commandment. At bSukkah 44b,  the Amora Abayyee reports that R. Isaac [4th-5th generation Babylonian Tanna] observed the beating of the willow rite of the 7th day of the Sukkot festival without saying the commandment blessing. The Sukkot willow rite is a “practice” or  custom, and not a positive commandment, which does not occasion a commandment blessing because the observance does not generate sanctity. See discussion, see https://etzion.org.il/he/halakha/orach-chaim/prayer-and-blessings/berakha-al-minhagim-2.

 

[lxvii]  At Hilkhot Megillah Ve-Hanukkah 3:7, Maimonides synthesizes the two Gemariyyot: “In Places Where The Festivals Are Celebrated For Two Days, Hallel Is Recited On 21 Days: On The Nine Days Of Sukkot, The Eight Days Of Chanukah, The First Two Days Of Pesach, And The Two Days Of Shavuot. In Contrast, The Recitation Of Hallel On Rosh Chodesh Is A Custom And Not A Mitzvah. It Is Observed Only Communally. To Emphasize That It Is A Custom, Passages Are Skipped When It Is Read. A Blessing Should Not Be Recited Over This Reading, Since A Blessing Is Not Recited Over A Custom. A Person Praying Alone Should Not Recite The Hallel At All On Rosh Chodesh. If, However, He Began Its Recitation, He Should Complete It, Skipping The Passages The Community Would Skip As He Reads It. Similarly, On The Other Days Of Pesach, The Hallel Is Read While Skipping Passages”[sic].  This translation is found conveniently, at https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/952008/jewish/Megillah-vChanukah-Chapter-3.htm#v7. The capital letters are original to the essay.

 

[lxviii] bBava Metsi’a 86a and R. David Halivni, “Introduction to Bava Batra,” ‘Introduction to “Sources and Traditions: Studies in the Formation of the Talmud”[Hebrew], (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 2009), pp. 2-4, who suggests   that the idiom not be taken literally, but is hyperbolic praise of Ravina I and Rav Ashi by their Amoraic students. The Amora’im died out one hundred years before the anonymous [Setamma’itic] Talmud emerged.

[lxix] Maimonides, Introduction to the Yad Compendium.

[lxx] E. E. Urbach,  The Tosafists: Their History, Writings, and Methods [Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Mossad Bialik, 1968), pp. 80-91.

[lxxi] Ta Shma, Early Franco-German Ritual and Custom [Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1994),  p. 28. This position, that apodictic Daat Torah declarations are binding Jewish law, is deemed by Brown, Supra., pp. 257-259 to be an innovation, and not a canonized Oral Torah doctrine.    

[lxxii] Reiner,  Supra., pp.  290-299, for a  description of the authority claimed by R. Jacob Tam. By describing the gap between the canonized Rabbinic norm and popular mimetic practice, both Ta Shma and Brown imply that Tosafist Orthodoxy is incompatible with the canonized benchmarks of normative Jewish teaching.

[lxxiii] This phenomenon may be present  in Nahmanides’ thought, as well.  R. Michael  Rosensweig in “Mesorah as Halachic Source and Sensibility,” at   http://www.ou.org/jewish_action/05/2011/mesorah_as_halachic_source_and_sensibility/:  “According to the Ramban [=Nahmanides], the letters of the Divine text embody metaphysical significance as well, recombining into different manifestations of the Divine name. The oral tradition…equally of Divine origin and authority, was entrusted to Moshe Rabbeinu and by extension to his successors, the chachmei hamesorah [the wise men of Masoretic tradition, i.e. the rabbinic elite] of each subsequent generation, as a received oral tradition consisting of principles, details, and values.”  This is an  eloquently lucent reformulation of the Nahmanidean doctrine of revelation,  according to which God’s will cannot be derived from a pedestrian reading of a divine text, but requires a  charismatically inspired reading of an otherwise unreadable text. 

[lxxiv] Conveniently at Jose Faur,  http://moreshetsepharad.org/media/-The_Legal_Thinking_of_the_Tosafot_A_Historical_Approach_by_Jose_Faur.pdf.,  pp. 19-21, originally  published at Dine Yisrael, 6 (1975), pp.  43-71.     By applying philology to the semantic sense of statute that prescribes the norm, one discovers the norm by reading. 

This is why, for Prof. Faur, tyrants forbid reading and in some Orthodox circles, only Great Sages are   authorized to read or render an opinion. 

[lxxv] Deuteronomy 28:69 begins with a demonstrative pronoun, “These are the words of the covenant, which the Lord commanded Moses to make with the children of Israel in the land of Moab, besides the covenant which he made with them in Horeb.” “These,” and no other words, constitute the Torah covenant. At bShavu’ot 27a, it is taught that oaths undertaken that impinge upon Toraitic priority and obligation do not take effect because the Sinai pact [a] went into effect first and [b] is in effect forever.  The Torah commitment supersedes subsequent legislation that would negate the Torah’s requirements.  See https://etzion.org.il/en/talmud/seder-nezikin/massekhet-shevuot/already-bound-oath-mount-sinai-supercedes-later-oaths.

 

[lxxvi] Herschel Schachter, Divrei Soferim: The Transmission of  Torah Shebe’al Peh (Jerusalem: Magid,  2024), p. 20, maintains that elite   rabbis are able to “read between the lines of the [written] Torah” in order to discover embedded laws, thereby describing these elite rabbis as oracles.                                                                                                                                                                         

[lxxvii] According to the popular, second version of orthodoxy, dancing on Simhat Torah  is an accepted,  and expected, positive religious practice. But at bBetsa 30a and bBetsa 36b,  the Oral Law forbids clapping hands, slapping thighs, and dancing on Jewish holy days, lest someone forget the norm or the holy day’s obligations and repair a musical instrument.    Tosafot, ad. loc., s.v. tenan,  explain that these three acts are permitted in the Tosafot’s time because that Jewry was no longer adept in broken instrument repair. Faur,  http://moreshetsepharad.org/media/-The_Legal_Thinking_of_the_Tosafot_A_Historical_Approach_by_Jose_Faur.pdf, p. 14, reports that the Tosafists      argue that “the norm automatically lapses when, in the judge’s judgment, the circumstances that initiated its promulgation have lapsed,” appears among Christian scholastics.  But  an act of rabbinic legislation requires a formal act of rabbinic legislation for its repeal. See Ibid., Faur, p. 15, “Abelard made explicit reference to the davqa methodology when he declared that one must determine a whether a precept “is general [ =lav davqa] or particular [ =davqa]. When interpreting a legal text, the Tosafot were especially concerned with validating local custom. This concern was particularly true in the German communities, for whom ancestral custom was always right, even when contradicting rabbinic or biblical law.”

[lxxviii]Jose Faur. The Horizontal Society: Understanding the Covenant and Alphabetic Judaism (Boston: Academic Studies Press, 2008), The divine lawgiver requires its public “to generate meaning from the written word of God.” p.  8.

[lxxix] Ibid., pp.  146-147. Accordingly, for Maimonidean Judaism, ”the [pagan] king is god and in all circumstances his will is supreme…. The norms and administrative  rules of government do not have the force  of law in regard to the sovereign…. The Rex is a supernatural being, the possessor of n=magical powers, not shared with ant other human being. ” p. 147.

[lxxx] Haym Soloveitchik, “Rupture and Reconstruction: The Transformation of Contemporary Orthodoxy,” Tradition 28;4 (1994), pp. 66-67. 

[lxxxi] These two “orthodoxies” are the two senses of “Tradition that are identified by Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “Two Types of Tradition” [Hebrew], in Shi’urim le-Zekher Abba Mori (Jerusalem, 1993), pp. 220-239.

[lxxxii] Bernard Weinberger, “ThRole of the Gedolim," Supra, and Brown, Supra., p. 258. The idiom should be better rendered “spirit of holiness.”

[lxxxiii] Deuteronomy 33:4.

[lxxxiv] Deuteronomy Rabbah, Ve-Zot ha-Berakhah, n. 345, s.v. davar aher.

[lxxxvi] Joseph B. Soloveitchik, “Mah Dodekh mi-Dod” in   In Alone, In Togetherness: A selection of Hebrew Writings ed.   Pinehas Peli [Hebrew] (Jerusalem: Orot, 1976), p. 209-211, and Soloveitchik, “Two Types of Tradition,” pp. 228-229.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

[lxxxvii]Ibid.,  pp. 212-214.

[lxxxviii] See  Yosef Gavriel Bechhofer. “Mezuzos, Machlokos and Eilu va'Eilu Divrei Elokim Chayim,” at https://www.aishdas.org/rygb/eilu.htm:   “Obviously, prowess in Lomdus and Halachic methodology is a precondition for acceptance as a Posek. Sometimes semicha recognizes that prowess. More often, haskamos or verbal recognition of universally accepted Gedolei Hora'a validate the positions of aspiring Poskim. Reb Tzadok (ibid.), however, addresses an additional qualification. Once upon a time Shevet Yissachar (who were "yod'ei bina l'ittim" (Divrei Hayamim 1:12), i.e., they understood what Halachic behavior was suitable for each generation) and Shevet Levi decided what Halachic approach was suitable for whom when (Yuma 26a). Rabbi Yochanan in Chagiga 15b identified their qualification. He explains the pasuk in Malachi: ‘For the lips of a Kohen guard wisdom and they will seek Torah from his mouth, because he is a malach of Hashem Tzevakos.’  Said Rabbi Yochanan: ‘Only if a Rov is like a malach of Hashem Tzevakos may one seek Torah from his mouth.’ A malach is an agent (a shaliach) of Hashem. An individual who views himself only as an agent of Hashem and focusses on the fulfillment of that agency, is qualified to generate divrei Elokim chayim. The Gemara (Yuma ibid.) explains the description of Dovid HaMelech as ‘Hash’em imo,’ to mean that Halacha always followed his opinion.” Bechhofer believes that

the Torah is readable, understandable,  and applicable by the Haredi elite alone, who by dint of their holiness are not be subject to review by those lacking their sacred charisma. 

[lxxxix] Soloveitchik, Two Types of Tradition, p. 228, commenting on Deuteronomy 32:7.

 [xc] Hart, Supra.

[xci]Onqolos, loc. cit., who translates “your elder” as “your grandfather.”  [Aramaic, sabakh]

[xcii]Kallah Rabbati 4:3. The Hebrew “va-yomeru” should be understood according to the root’s Aramaic and Arabic meaning, which is “command.” This reading yields “your [Oral Torah] Sages will [issue  Oral Torah] commands.” This Rabbinic Hebrew understanding of zeqenekha/elders also occurs at Seder Olam Rabbah 30, Sifre Deuteronomy, Ha’azinu, n. 310 , s.v. she’al  avikha, and Pisqta Zutarta,  Qohelet.12:12, p. 21b.

[xciii] Following R. Soloveitchik penchant for dialectic binaries, as evidenced by First and Second Adam of Lonely Man of Faith, conveniently at https://traditiononline.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/08/Lonely-Man-of-Faith-original.pdf, I refer to his two traditions as Tradition I and II.

[xciv] Soloveitchik, “Two Types of Tradition,” p. 220, references Hilkhot Mamrim, 2:1-3 and 5-7.

[xcv] Maimonides, Introduction to his Commentary to the Mishnah and Hilkhot Mamrim 1:3,

[xcvi] See Daniel Rynhold and Michael J. Harris, Nietzsche, Soloveitchik, and Contemporary Jewish Philosophy

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2018), and Alex Ozar’s book review at https://thelehrhaus.com/scholarship/nietzschean-man/. Rynhold and Harris have discovered the creative life-affirming vitality that R. Soloveitchik’s Halakhic Man and Nietzsche’s Overman share, their undeniable, significant differences notwithstanding.   Because Tradition I  is democratic in that it fosters collegial debate, only Great or Masoretic Sages are allowed access to the conversation. And since R. Soloveitchik's Tradition II, like the Oral Torah laws given at Sinai but go unreferenced in Hebrew Scripture do not tolerate dispute,  the masses, the Nietzschean  "Undermen"who live Tradition II  ought to defer to the Great Rabbi  "Overman" aristocracy should rule the Jewish polity, by dint of their superior morality, piety, learning, and wisdom. 

[xcviii] Numbers 15:40.

[xcix]Safra Qedoshim 10:2.

[c] See Jose Faur’s trenchant critique of Nahmanides’ position at  In the Shadow of History:  Jews and Conversos at  the Dawn of Modernity (Albany: SUNY Press, 1992),  pp. 12-13. Acutely aware of Prof. Faur’s Maimonidean –and devastating—critique of Nahmanidean theology,  R. Shalom Carmy, a passionately devoted disciple of R. Soloveitchik, invokes the  position of the American Legal Realist, Oliver Wendell Holmes, to dismiss the legal positivist who is committed to only uphold  the letter of the legal norm, as a “bad man.” Shalom Carmy, "If You Want to Know the Law and Nothing Else," Tradition 42:2 (Summer 2013), pp. 1-7.  Like R. Soloveitchik, Carmy seems to maintain that official religion Orthodox Judaism posits  that nobody is authorized to make normative claims about Judaism except their own elite rabbinic leaders who, being “married to Torah,” are singularly able and authorized “to read between its lines” and discover, recover, or impose the living, mimetic Tradition II upon the canonical library.  In his eagerness to parry this assault upon his own Nahmanidean Orthodoxy,  Carmy does not consider the possibility that, like Maimonides, Prof. Faur only regards duly promulgated norms to be binding law, thereby validating individual autonomy and personal discretion when the law is silent on an issue. And designating a scholar to bea bad man” based upon a superficial or incomplete reading of the available evidence  conflicts with the Oral Torah norm that requires that all humankind be judged as generously as possible [mAvot 1:6]  and the benchmark by which one judges others is the benchmark by which one will be judged.   Ruth Rabbah 1:1 teaches “woe to the generation that judges its judges, and woe to the generation whose judges need to be judged.”     However, Carmy is, however, consistent in his protesting  Eliezer Berkovits’ critique of Nahmanides’ attitude toward women, at Ross Singer,  https://seforimblog.com/2026/03/review-of-rabbi-eliezer-berkovits-jewish-women-in-time-and-torah/. Accordng to the Tosafist/Nahmanidean orthodoxy advocated by Carmy, both Berkovits and Faur are out order for subjecting Nahmanides, a great or Masoretic Sage, to assessment.  It is also unclear that Justice Holmes should be the judge of who is “a bad man,” given his tolerance for racial inequality. See Thomas Halper, Justice Holmes and the Question of Race https://reference-global.com/download/article/10.2478/bjals-2020-0025.pdf, abstract, “Notwithstanding his youthful dalliance with abolitionism, Holmes’ votes and opinions in Supreme Court cases involving race reveal a stubborn indifference to discrimination on a range of issues. Whether this reflects a cold personal aloofness, a preoccupation with life as struggle, a commitment to judicial restraint or merely an insensitivity pervading the enlightened opinion of the day, his performance will continue to stain his reputation.”

[ci] Menachem Genack, “Walking with Ramban,” in ed., Menachem Genack, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik: Man of Halacha, Man of Faith (Hoboken, New Jersey: KTAV, 1998), pp. 208-221.  When serving as a student aid to R. Soloveitchik, R. Stuart  Grant asked his mentor,  “who was his greatest rabbinic influence?”  R.  Soloveitchik answered him, “the Ramban!” Oral communication. 

[cii] This doctrine is articulated at bBava Metsi’a 59b, with the Ochnai oven narrative, according to which even intuitions reliably confirmed by a divine oracle lack legal legitimacy and are therefore rejected because  God’s unvetted opinion is not a recognized rule of the Halakhic legal order. We will return to this theme below

[ciii] Nahmanides to Leviticus 19:20. 

[civ] Deuteronomy 34:4, by the mouth of the LORD,” is homiletically taken to be a kiss, but the idiom’s philological sense is that Moses died at the “LORD’s command,” following Targum Yonatan,  an understanding likely grounded in the plain sense of Deuteronomy 32:50, where the Lord orders Moses to die, using the imperative form,  u-mut, “and die!”

[cv] According to Ecclesiastes 7:20, there is no human who is has not sinned.

[cvi] Zohar Genesis I Va-Yishlah 108b. See also Israel M. Ta Shma, ha-Niglah she-ba-Nistar: ke-Heqer Sheqiei ha-Halakhah be-Sefer ha-Zohar (Tel Aviv: ha-Kibbutz ha-Meuhad, 2001), pp.  35-37.

[cvii] Soloveitchik,  Halakhic Man (Philadelphia: Jewish Publishing Society, 1984), p.  58.

[cviii] Maimonides, Responsum 180. It  is no accident that R. Jacob Tam approved of including piyyutim in the liturgy. See Reiner, pp. 184-198.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

[cix] Maimonides, Introduction to the Yad Compendium.

[cx]Collected Letters, 1:15, pp. 42-43.

[cxi]Ibid., 1:32-33 and pp. 57-61.

[cxii]Ibid., 3:92, pp. 115-116.

[cxiii] Nefesh ha-Rav, (Jerusalem: Reshit Yerushalayim, 1994) p. 33.

[cxiv] Moshe Isserles, Darkei Moshe, Introduction, on line text, no page number is available. The subject is a plural participle and the predicate is a third person singular verb.

[cxv] Mishnat Rabbi Ahron, (1996) 3:153-155.

[cxvi] This doctrine was made explicit in Maran Karo’s Bet Yosef to Yoreh De’ah 1:1, cited above.

[cxvii] mAvot 3:11.  The Mishnah continues, “although he may possess Torah knowledge and good deeds, he has no share in the World to Come.” The operative norm is the prohibition of willful misrepresentation of Jewish law, bSanhedrin 99b reports that wicked King Menashe issued derashot shel dofi, false interpretations intended to mislead. 

[cxviii] Deuteronomy 6:16 and pYoma 1:4.

[cxix] A literary reading of I Samuel’s narrative advances the doctrine that ultimate power resides with God, Who gifts divine potency, the power of holiness [Psalms 150:1], to those whose belief and confidence in God’s Presence is steadfast.  Tall King Saul is the de jure Israelite Commander-in-Chief who lacks the nerve to face Goliath, his seasoned, giant, blaspheming, Philistinian adversary, which contrasts with the faith-filled confidence, moral authority, and principled restraint exhibited by both Jonathan and David, whose power was  a product of  their personal piety, not their professional prowess.

[cxx] David Halivni explains Judaism’s “predilection for a justified law” in his Midrash, Mishnah, and Gemara:  The Jewish Predilection for a Justified Law (Boston: Harvard, 1986).

[cxxi] Tosafot  to bMenahot 20b, s.v. nifsal mi-sheqiyyat ha-hammah.   The Tosafot are in way denying the sanctity of the Law; they contend that there are competing and conflicting norms in the Halakhic legal order. At Mamrim 2:4, Maimonides provides for the suspension, but not abrogation, even of Torah law,  “to restore the masses to the law.”

[cxxii] Isaiah 2:3.

[cxxiii] Citing Hazon Ish Orah Hayyim 67:12),  Burman, Supra., p. 24:  “The accepted mesorah, which is considered to be versions of texts currently prevalent amongst the rabbinic community, have been subject to generations of rigorous textual criticism by scholars who are guided by Divine intervention, which has assured its arrival to contemporary scholars in the state it was intended to be. Although these versions might reflect an inaccurate transmission of the original text, that too is the will of God as are the decisions of rabbis that will be made based upon these deviant texts.”

     See also Bacon, Supra.

[cxxiv]R.  Shaul Robinson defends this view at https://www.lss.org/lss-blog.html?post_id=19439. His personal view is found at https://www.lss.org/lss-blog.html?post_id=20402/ . 

[cxxv]  Deuteronomy 30:12 as understood by bBava Metsi’a 59b, which tells a story that clarifies a major Halakhic Rule of Recognition. The story is a structured triad. Opening with [a]  R. Eliezer the Great [= b. Hyrcanus]  citing “all the proofs in the world” [that a broken clay oven reduced to useless shards, is no longer a tool susceptible to acquiring ritual impurity]  and recalling that R. Eliezer was described as “a sealed cistern, who does not lose a drop [of Torah], that he enjoyed what  will come be known as a photographic memory.  The narrator is hereby informing the reader/listener [the Bavli was likely an oral literature before it was committed writing] that R. Eliezer’s description of the Oral Torah prescription is without question reliable.  The contending Sages rejected R. Eliezer’s position.   Having failed to win his colleagues with reason, [b] R. Eliezer offers three proofs from Nature, [1] a carob uprooted itself and moved 100 or 400 ammot, [2]  a stream/aqueduct reversed  its flow direction, and [3] the walls of the bet midrash tilted, not crashing to the ground, in deference to R. Joshua but not remaining erect, in deference  to R.  Eliezer. The wall’s indecision reflects divine discomfort with the dispute, anticipating the third element of the triadic pericope [c] where the Natural Law, reflected by reason, seconded by three confirming natural events, ultimately is summoned, “appears” as an oracle [bat qol] in support of R. Eliezer’s absolutely correct reading of Torah law. Even though God reveals to the Rabbis that R. read God’s mind correctly, R. appealed to Heavan [=God] for vindication.  By ruling that reconstructing the clay oven the with now not defiled shards defiles by rabbinic norm, [a] they acted within their Torah ordained authority [Deut. 17:8-11] and [v] by illegally appealing to God, R.  Eliezer violated a Rule of Recognition of the Halakhic order. The Sages remind God that the Law is no longer in Heaven.  The Torah’s Rules of Recognition may be revisited by the Bet Din ha-Gadol, but not by God and not by any individual rabbi, however great, even R. Eliezer the Great.

[cxxvi]  See Yehuda Rock, “Morechai Breuer,”
https://etzion.org.il/en/tanakh/studies-tanakh/biblical-commentaries/r-mordechai-breuer, who writes that R. Mordechai Breuer’s  “basic innovation was in disseminating the pursuit of peshat [plain  sense meaning, a.y.] within the community of those studying Tanakh. Before R. Breuer, the study of Tanakh, within the religious Jewish world in general and the yeshiva world in particular, was focused mainly on the Midrashic expositions of Chazal and more recent compositions of the sort (e.g. in the Chasidic world); or on studying the classical biblical commentators (e.g. following the method of Nechama Leibowitz). R. Breuer taught in Yeshivat Har Etzion and other places, and it is to his credit that it is now commonplace in the yeshiva world to study Tanakh by treating peshat as having independent and primary meaning. This approach to peshat is of course not the exclusive innovation of R. Breuer, but in practice it appears that the widespread adoption of the study of peshat in the yeshiva world is ultimately a result of his efforts, directly and through his students.”

[cxxvii] At Mamrim 2:4, Maimonides provides for rabbinic discretion in emergency settings.

[cxxviii] Rosensweig, Mesorah as Halachic Source and Sensibility,” Supra.

[cxxix] See https://www.chabad.org.il/Concepts/Item.asp?ArticleID=104&CategoryID=200 for a discussion of the 9th of Maimonides’ 13 root doctrines, that the Torah does not undergo change.  W.hile this unchangeable Torah does not forbid philosophical speculation, Maimonides’ opponents believe a laity capable of logical, philosophical, or critical thinking will be unwilling to defer to a leadership that is legitimated by charisma.

 

 


 [AY1]

 [AY2]

Paired Perspectives on the Parashah: Shelah

Shelah:

The Spies in Numbers and Deuteronomy

 

The spies narrative (Numbers 13-14) is among the most familiar and devastating stories in the Torah. In its presentation in the Book of Numbers, the narrative appears straightforward. God commands Moses to send spies to survey the Land of Israel. Moses agrees and instructs the spies regarding their mission. The spies themselves are distinguished leaders, divinely sanctioned representatives of the tribes. Everything about the mission initially appears legitimate and proper.

 

The catastrophe emerges only afterward. Ten spies return with a demoralizing report, the nation loses faith, and God decrees that the generation of the wilderness will perish before entering the land. In the plain sense of Numbers, the sin lies in the people’s faithlessness and despair after hearing the spies’ report.

 

However, the Book of Deuteronomy dramatically complicates this picture.

 

Moses’s retelling of the spies narrative in Deuteronomy chapter 1 is not an independent account. It plainly assumes familiarity with the original story in Numbers. Yet the retelling systematically shifts the emphasis of the narrative and redistributes responsibility in striking ways.

 

In Numbers, God appears to initiate the mission: “Send men for yourself, and let them spy out the land of Canaan” (Numbers 13:2).

 

In Deuteronomy, however, the initiative comes from the people: “Then all of you approached me and said: Let us send men before us” (Deuteronomy 1:22). Moses then states: “The matter was good in my eyes” (1:23).

 

Remarkably, God is not mentioned at all in connection with authorizing the mission until after the disaster unfolds and the decree is issued. In the plain sense of Deuteronomy, the mission appears to have originated with the people and to have been approved by Moses himself. 

 

This shift is not merely technical. It fundamentally alters the theological atmosphere of the episode.

 

Even the language of Moses’s rebuke differs sharply from Numbers. In Deuteronomy, Moses emphasizes the nation’s initiative: va-tikrevun elai kullekhem (1:22). The phrase can be translated neutrally as “you approached me,” though some commentators hear a more accusatory tone: “you pressed upon me” or “you demanded of me.” Either way, the emphasis falls upon the people’s initiative rather than upon divine command.

 

How, then, can Deuteronomy’s retelling coexist with Numbers’s original presentation?

 

Drawing on Midrashic tradition, Rashi argues that Deuteronomy reveals the hidden truth behind the story all along. The request to send spies was itself sinful from the outset. According to Rashi, the demand for reconnaissance reflected a lack of trust in God immediately after Moses had enthusiastically promised that God would give them the land. For Rashi, the very desire to investigate and verify the land after God’s promise already betrayed deficient faith.

 

Accordingly, Rashi reads Moses’s words in Deuteronomy sharply. Va-tikrevun elai kullekhem does not mean merely “you approached me,” but carries a critical tone: despite Moses’s encouragement and God’s promise, the people pressed for spies anyway.

 

Even more strikingly, Rashi explains “the matter was good in my eyes” (1:23) to mean that Moses only pretended to approve of the request. Rashi compares Moses to a salesman displaying confidence in a used donkey to discourage further inquiry. Moses hoped that by expressing confidence, the people would abandon the desire to investigate the land altogether.

 

When they persisted, however, God acceded reluctantly: shelah lekha anashim—send for yourself (Numbers 13:2). According to Rashi, the phrase implies divine disapproval: “I am not commanding this; if you wish, send them.”

 

In this reading, the downfall occurred before the spies even departed. The actual mission merely exposed the people’s already defective faith.

 

Rashi’s interpretation is powerful and coherent, but it comes at a significant textual cost. In Deuteronomy, Moses’s statement that “the matter was good in my eyes” sounds like genuine approval, not strategic pretense. Likewise, Numbers presents the mission as divinely sanctioned. God speaks directly to Moses, and the spies depart “by the word of the Lord” (Numbers 13:3). Nothing in the narrative overtly conveys reluctant divine concession.

 

Ramban therefore rejects Rashi’s reinterpretation. Although Ramban agrees that the people initiated the request and that God responded afterward, he insists that the request itself was entirely legitimate.

 

For Ramban, prudent military reconnaissance does not contradict faith. Moses himself later sends spies, and Joshua does so as well before the conquest of Jericho. Gathering intelligence is normal military behavior, not religious betrayal.

 

Accordingly, Ramban reads va-tikrevun elai kullekhem (Deuteronomy 1:22) neutrally: “Then you approached me.”

 

Likewise, shelah lekhah anashim (Numbers 13:2) is simply standard biblical idiom meaning “send.” The sin occurred only later, when the spies abused their mission and the people succumbed to panic and rebellion.

 

Ramban thus harmonizes the two narratives without fundamentally reinterpreting either one. The people requested spies, Moses approved, and God endorsed the plan. The catastrophe emerged only afterward through the spies’ panic-inducing report and the people’s loss of faith.

 

Ramban’s approach resolves the major textual difficulties raised by Rashi’s interpretation. It preserves Moses’s straightforward approval in Deuteronomy while also maintaining Numbers’s clear presentation of divine sanction. At the same time, Ramban preserves a broader theological principle: responsible human effort and strategic planning coexist with faith rather than undermine it.

 

Thus, while Rashi sees Deuteronomy as uncovering the hidden failure already present at the beginning of the episode, Ramban views Deuteronomy as supplementing—but not overturning—the original presentation in Numbers. At stake in the debate between Rashi and Ramban is not merely how to read one biblical episode, but a larger question about the relationship between faith and human initiative in religious life.

Facing Realities: Thoughts for Parashat Shelah Lekha

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Shelah Lekha

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel

 

Moses sent twelve spies, the leaders of each of the tribes of Israel, to go into the Promised Land and come back with a report. All twelve agreed that the land was wonderful but ten of them thought the inhabitants were too powerful to overcome. Caleb and Joshua called on the people to trust the Almighty who would help them conquer the opponents.

Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz describes the controversy between the two groups of spies. Ten of them thought the people were better off in the wilderness. Entering the land, after all, would entail war. Settling the land would require hard work—agriculture, building, creating infrastructure etc. In the wilderness, the people were provided with manna from heaven; they had no material responsibilities; they could devote themselves entirely to spiritual matters. 

Caleb and Joshua contended that the people could not fulfill their earthly mission unless they took responsibility for establishing their own country. God had freed them from Egypt so that they would become a self-respecting nation. The Torah is meant to be lived in this world, with all its challenges and opportunities.

Rabbi Steinsaltz points out that the argument of the spies can be heard frequently even today. “Why should we lose our abstract spiritual essence, our Torah, and our manna, solely in order to go to the Land of Israel? It is better to remain in the wilderness.” (Talks on the Parasha, p. 306).

The error of the ten spies was that they wanted an other-worldly spiritual perfection, free of the responsibilities of nation-building. Let God provide everything and let us avoid the nitty-gritty of running a society with all the challenges that entails.

Their error is echoed by many today—Jewish and non-Jewish—who expect the people of Israel to be absolutely pure, and who feel that Israel is tainted by having to deal with the everyday issues of war, economics, politics etc.  Wouldn’t things be better if Jews stayed in the wilderness seeking spiritual perfection, rather than getting their hands dirty in the real world?

Although Jewish critics of Israel are diverse, they seem to have one thing in common. They insist that the Jewish state be inhumanly perfect. For them, a Jewish state will never be satisfactory as long as Jews have to wage wars, kill enemies, rule over non-Jews, engage in political infighting, deal with social inequalities etc.  

Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook (1865-1935) noted that “the great idealists seek an order so noble, so firm and pure, beyond what may be found in the world of reality, and thus they destroy what has been fashioned in conformity to the norms of the world.”  Such people, through their unrealistic religiosity or idealism, in fact are part of what Rav Kook called “the world of chaos” rather than “the world of order.”  Misguided idealism is destructive. Insisting that Jews be “angels” rather than real human beings is also a form of antisemitism.

Already in the 19th century, Rabbi Yehuda Alkalai (1798-1878) lamented that rabbis of his time opposed resettlement of Jews in Israel until Messianic times. He rebuked those “who say with full mouth that Jerusalem was only created for the sake of Torah study. While their intention is acceptable, their deeds are unacceptable. It is impossible to conduct life in this world as though it were the world-to-come, where there is no need to eat or drink.”

The approach of the ten spies is still espoused by many today. But just as their error caused massive suffering to the people then, it can cause serious harm to us today. We need to hear the courageous and faithful voices of Caleb and Joshua. Reality is difficult; escapism is far worse.

The future of Israel and the Jewish People will be secured by those who share the dream of a Jewish homeland that strives to be a “light unto the nations.”  The goal is to make Israel as great as humanly possible, not to demand absolute perfection.

To demand the impossible is not only unrealistic: it is dangerous and self-destructive.

 

 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks on Difference and Human Dignity

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks on Difference and Human Dignity

 

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks was undoubtedly one of the greatest Jewish leaders and thinkers of the last generation. Born in London in 1948, Rabbi Sacks studied philosophy at Cambridge and Oxford and was awarded a PhD in philosophy from King’s College London in 1981. In 1976, Rabbi Sacks received rabbinic ordination from Jews’ College and Yeshiva Etz Chaim, London. Rabbi Sacks went on to serve as Chief Rabbi of the United Hebrew Congregations of the British Commonwealth from 1991 until 2013. Throughout his illustrious career, Sacks wrote elegantly and compellingly on all manner of Jewish topics, including the relationship between science and religion, religious violence, morality, and much more. 

 

I want to discuss Rabbi Sacks’ emphasis on what he called “the dignity of difference.” In response to increasing tribalism and parochialism, Rabbi Sacks warned against the other extreme: universalism. Articulated brilliantly in his book The Dignity of Difference, which was written in the wake of 9/11, Rabbi Sacks makes the case for a model of engagement with others that both recognizes and prioritizes the shared humanity across difference, without simultaneously insisting on a hegemonic sameness that, just like tribalism, easily shifts into violence and conflict. It is worth noting in passing the extent to which this view of Sacks’ parallels that of Bernard Williams, one of his teachers at Cambridge.

 

One of the preeminent moral philosophers of the twentieth century, Williams harbored a deep skepticism toward moral theories that claimed to provide a comprehensive and universal account of how all people ought to live. In a famous 1979 essay, “Internal and External Reasons,” Williams challenged the assumption that there are reasons for action that apply to all rational people regardless of their particular desires, commitments, and projects. Philosophers often speak as though moral obligations are simply there to be recognized, and that anyone who fails to recognize them is not merely mistaken, but irrational. Williams argued that this picture obscures an important truth: human beings act on the basis of particular histories, motivations, and ways of seeing the world. Appeals to supposedly universal reasons can therefore become a kind of moral bluff, allowing us to express disapproval of other’s actions while presenting that disapproval as if it were simply the necessary conclusion of “rational thinking.” The idea is that there is something wrong with you if you do not see the world as I do. 

 

Rabbi Sacks, like Williams, recognized that appeals to universality can easily become dehumanizing, particularly toward those whose identity and way of life differ from that of the dominant culture. If failure to respond to the “truth” of some claim indicates a fundamental deficiency—or worse, wickedness—then it is perhaps unsurprising that Jews, among others, have so often been persecuted for refusing to conform to a supposedly universal truth. 

 

Rabbi Sacks argues that is precisely the genius of our tradition. The Torah, he points out, moves in a counterintuitive direction. In considering the evolution of a society we tend to move from part to whole: we consider isolated man and his needs, on the basis of which he forms a family, which, in order to coordinate its thriving, joins with other families to form a town, and so on. We assume that the direction of development is ever extending outwards. But Genesis does the opposite. It proceeds from God’s creation of the cosmos to the creation of man, the world-wide catastrophe of the flood and then to the dispersing at Babel, all of which builds up to God’s covenantal relationship with one particular person, Abraham, and his family. While we must not forget the unity of God, and therefore the commonality of our origins, we learn how to live not through the contemplation of humanity in the abstract, but through the narrative of a particular family. It is precisely the transcendent unity of God, argues Rabbi Sacks, that sets God beyond any way of describing or being in the world. The difference manifest in the world reflects, perhaps paradoxically, the unity of the divine. 

The perspective of unified truth is limited to God, and any appeal to it from within God’s world fails to recognize the manifest particularity of God’s creations. As Rabbi Sacks puts it, “There is no universal language. There is no way we can speak, communicate, or even think without placing ourselves within the constraints of a particular language whose contours were shaped by hundreds of generations of speakers, storytellers, artists and visionaries who came before us, whose legacy we inherit and of whose story we become a part” (The Dignity of Difference, 54). We do not transcend our particularity in order to understand others; rather, it is through inhabiting a particular tradition that we become capable of appreciating those of our neighbors.

For Rabbi Sacks, then, the alternative to tribalism is not universalism but covenantal particularity. The universality of moral concern emerges not from abstracting our concrete commitments but from them. As Rabbi Sacks explains, “The universality of moral concerns is not something we learn by being universal but by being particular. Because we know what it is to be a parent, loving our children, not children in general, we understand what it is for someone else, somewhere else, to be a parent, loving his or her children, not ours” (The Dignity of Difference, 55). We come to recognize the humanity of others not by denying the significance of family, community, and tradition, but by understanding that others are attached to their own families, communities, and traditions in much the same way that we are attached to ours.

In light of this argument, it is notable that Rabbi Sacks, in his reflections on “the other” and how Jews ought to relate to non-Jews, turns first inward, back to the texts that comprise our language. In Not in God's Name, Sacks argues that the book of Genesis repeatedly returns to the theme of sibling rivalry: Cain and Abel, Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau, Joseph and his brothers. These narratives, he contends, are not merely family dramas, but meditations on the rivalry that naturally arises between siblings when paternal love (from their fathers or from God) is perceived to be scarce.

The story of Isaac and Ishmael occupies a central place in this argument. The Torah is unequivocal about Isaac’s status as heir to the Abrahamic covenant. Yet, Sacks observes, this does not mean that Ishmael is rejected. God hears Ishmael's cries in the wilderness, promises that he too will become a great nation, and remains present in his life. Sacks notes that Ishmael is portrayed with remarkable sympathy. His near-death scene in the wilderness is narrated with considerably more pathos than Isaac's binding, inviting readers to identify with his suffering.  While it is often overlooked, the biblical text actually hints at a relationship between Isaac and Ishmael. Isaac, we know from the biblical text, lives at beer lahai roi after the Akedah (Gen. 24:62, 25:11), which is precisely the location at which God intervened to save Ishmael and Hagar earlier in the narrative (Gen. 16:13-14). To Sacks, this hints at a reconciliation between Isaac and Hagar and Ishmael. In fact, there is a midrash, quoted by Sacks, which not only identifies Hagar with Keturah, Abraham’s second wife, but has Isaac act as their go-between. Finally, Isaac and Ishmael bury their father together.

These narrative clues (among others, not recounted here) indicate that, despite its central importance to the Torah, election is not the same thing as exclusion. To choose one path is not to condemn all others. The God who enters into covenant with Isaac is also the God who saves and blesses Ishmael. God's love exceeds the zero-sum calculations that characterize human rivalry. The covenant with one family does not imply the abandonment of all others.

This reading exemplifies the larger argument of The Dignity of Difference. Judaism does not ask us to abandon our particular commitments in the name of a universal humanity. Rather, it teaches us to see that the God who calls us into covenant is also the creator of those who stand outside that covenant. In recognizing the limits of universality, we return to our own language and our own texts. There we discover not a mandate to erase difference, but a model for honoring it—a way of engaging others that preserves the dignity of other ways of life without compromising our own covenantal commitments. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maimonides, Spinoza and Us: A Significant New Book Review

 

Maimonides, Spinoza and Us: Toward an Intellectually Vibrant Judaism, by Marc D. Angel, Jewish Lights Publishing, Woodstock, 2009

Reviewed by Francis Idris

 

Rabbi Dr Marc D Angel’s Maimonides, Spinoza and Us sits in a very specific intellectual tension that most books avoid on purpose. Published in 2009 by Jewish Lights Publishing, it does something slightly risky in plain sight. It puts Maimonides and Spinoza in the same room and refuses to let either behave like a museum piece. One is the rationalist inside tradition. The other is the excommunicated heretic who still somehow keeps influencing modern religious thought. That pairing alone already feels like a conversation that should not be polite.

And yet the tone is not academic distance. It reads more like a living argument that refuses to end. Reason and revelation are not treated as opposing camps to be safely labeled. They are treated like two people who keep interrupting each other mid-sentence. There is a quiet insistence underneath it all, that a thinking Jew should not have to amputate intellect to remain faithful. That line alone. It lands hard. Especially in rooms where questioning is already frowned upon.

What stands out, almost uncomfortably, is how direct the book is about superstition and authority. It does not whisper around the edges of religious discomfort. It names the problem of blind veneration and irrational belief without flinching. And coming from Rabbi Marc D Angel, Rabbi Emeritus of Congregation Shearith Israel in New York, founder of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals, that critique carries weight that is not theoretical. It comes from inside the system it is questioning. That is not a safe position. It never was.

There is something almost ironic here. A Sephardic rabbinic leader born in Seattle, with nearly forty books behind him, writes one of the clearest defenses of intellectual honesty in modern Judaism, and yet the book itself ends up living in a very narrow corridor. Too philosophical for casual religious readers. Too religious for pure academic philosophy shelves. It ends up in that strange middle space where thinking people quietly find it, and quietly pass it to someone else. No noise. Just transfer.

And that detail matters. Because the book is not abstract theory. It is aimed directly at the kind of reader who feels spiritually homeless while still wanting to remain inside tradition. That specific tension, loving Torah but refusing to turn off the mind, is not a broad audience. It is a very particular kind of discomfort. The kind that does not advertise itself. It just sits there. Quiet. Persistent.

There is a line in the work that essentially exposes the entire paradox. The idea that the Torah path is narrow, with fire on one side and ice on the other. That image is almost too precise for modern religious discourse. Not poetic decoration. A warning about balance that assumes constant intellectual pressure. Most readers do not realize how rare it is to see Spinoza and Maimonides used together without one being treated as an enemy of the other. Here they are collaborators in argument. Strange alliance. It works.

But here is the part that feels almost absurd. A book that explicitly validates the thinking religious reader, the one who refuses both extremism and silence, is still largely discovered by accident. Even though it is already praised by scholars like Menachem Kellner and Neil Gillman, it does not consistently reach the very people it describes. The ones sitting inside congregations thinking privately, am I allowed to think like this. Yes. But they never see the answer sitting nearby.

That gap is where my attention goes. Not changing the argument. Not reshaping the theology. Just making sure the book is not waiting in the wrong shelf space while the exact readers it was written for keep assuming they are alone in the question. Because right now, intellectual honesty in Judaism is being searched for in fragments, while this text already holds it in a structured form that feels almost unreasonably calm about difficult questions.

And there is something unfinished about that. A book about ideas that transcend time and space, still sitting slightly outside the line of sight of the very minds it was written to steady… almost like it is waiting for someone to notice it is already speaking their language before they even finish forming the question.

(The book can be ordered from Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/maimonides-spinoza-and-us-turner-publishing-company/1126846314?ean=9781683361848)

The Current State of the Modern Orthodox Community

  1. Do you sense that Orthodoxy has been moving to the right? To the left? Other?

 

I think it’s helpful to understand why we often discuss “rightward” and “leftward” movements within American Orthodox Judaism. In 2006, the sociologist Samuel Heilman coined the term, “sliding to the right.” It was the title of his important tome that, as the subtitle indicated, explored the “contest for the future of American Jewish Orthodoxy.” Heilman’s book studied everyday life: for example, college enrollment, yeshiva study in Israel, and attitudes toward culture and technology. His conclusion was that the rising generation of traditional-leaning Jews had moved the boundary lines of what is and what isn’t Orthodox Judaism. In each case, those lines “slid” further to the right, shrinking the acceptability of so-described Modern Orthodox practices and placing greater power in the hands of those who subscribed to the values and beliefs of the “rightward” yeshiva world. 

            Five years later, Yehuda Turetsky and Chaim Waxman authored an article that questioned Heilman’s findings. The pair interviewed 50 women and men who described their religious beliefs as in concert with Modern Orthodox Judaism. The interviewees expressed to Turetsky and Waxman a concern for how Hareidi (Israel) and Yeshivish (U.S.) rabbis had banned books and people; most notably, the “excommunicated” Rabbi Natan Slifkin. Those interviewed also expressed an openness for advanced Torah study for women, as well as some inclusion for women in synagogue rituals. They therefore found, in opposition to Heilman, a competing “slide to the left.” 

            Both approaches are compelling, making it difficult to easily plot the trajectory of Orthodox Judaism in the United States. Simply put, it seems a mistake to suggest that Orthodox practice (and belief) has moved from a “left-leaning” liberal attitude to a “right-pulling” conservatism and rigidness. This narrow view of history is too simple when we account for the variety of forces weighing upon Orthodox observance. The history of “change” is rarely binary. Change, I’d say, does not move two-dimensionally along an x-axis. Change moves in oft-unchartable strides. It does this because change doesn’t occur in a vacuum. It sometimes moves unconsciously, reacting to indigenous extratextual conditions. For Orthodox Judaism, a list of those external forces include culture, politics, technology, as well as legal and economic variables. 

Orthodox Judaism has bargained, to borrow a term from scholars of the American Amish, with modernity in complicated ways. Take, for instance, the gray areas of Jewish jurisprudence, as I have argued, from the rise and fall of peanut oil in Ashkenazic-practicing homes on Passover (it has been labeled “kitniyot”) to the emergence of bat mitzvah ceremonies in Orthodox spaces. Peanut oil was “the Passover oil” in the immediate postwar period, approved by all kosher certification agencies. There were no audible grumblings from more stringent Hungarian Jews until the 1960s. Bat mitzvah, on the other hand, was a decidedly Conservative Jewish practice in the 1950s and rarely done in Orthodox circles. In the case of peanut oil, the Orthodox community banned it and moved to the “right,” while in the latter instance, bat mitzvah rituals, we have moved very far to the “left.” Factor in consumerism (Passover vacations, boutique toys, and other Orthodox products), dating practices, and women in the workforce, and you will further bollix notions of linear movements to one direction or another.

Consider, as well, the uneven reception of Torah study and leadership opportunities for women. It is probably a fair assessment to conclude that most Orthodox communities have not warmed to women clergy but have expanded the scope of learning available to Orthodox women. But the notion of “clergy” is curious; and it is absolutely the case that women have been made leaders in some of the most ardently Orthodox communities, even if it hasn’t taken place on a pulpit. In 2015, two rebbetzins—rabbis’ wives—successfully argued in a courtroom in Portland, Oregon, that they were not required to testify in a divorce trial because they ought to enjoy “clergy privilege” and exempt from sharing conversations held in confidence with members of their community. The representatives of these women, belonging to what might be described as a “rightwing” segment of the Orthodox community, claimed that “it was reasonable to argue that despite Orthodoxy’s position that women cannot be ordained rabbis, the kollel wives were in fact officially hired by the Kollel to ‘minister’ to the community in vital ways that overlapped with the duties of clergy.” In all these instances, it is apparent that modernity has posed challenges and opportunities for Orthodox Jews to grapple with their own red lines and develop creative responses to how this community engages with their American environs. In some cases, change can be interpreted as a movement to the right. In others, it is altogether clear that change shifted things leftward. Upon observing this phenomenon, I argued in my recent book, that all American tradition-bound faiths, Orthodox Judaism included, are in search for “authenticity.” The quest for authenticity, a hard-to-describe sentiment, takes a group in a myriad of directions. 

 

  1. What would you consider the proper “center” and how is that center doing?

 

First, some history. The “center,” as in “Centrist Orthodoxy,” had a short shelf life. In the 1980s, Modern Orthodox Judaism rebranded itself as “Centrist Orthodoxy.” In 1986, Rabbi Norman Lamm, president of Yeshiva University, authored a visionary essay on Centrist Orthodox Judaism in the pages of Tradition. Two decades earlier, Rabbi Lamm had been one of the key figures to popularize the term, “Modern Orthodoxy.” By the mid-1980s, Rabbi Lamm believed that “modern” somehow connoted religious compromise, which was never his intention. Drawing from Rambam’s (and Aristotle’s) Golden Mean, Rabbi Lamm preached his movement’s belief in moderation and nuance in the areas of higher learning and Western culture. Centrist Orthodoxy, like Modern Orthodoxy before it, valued Religious Zionism. 

Others added to Rabbi Lamm’s list. For example, Rabbi Gilbert Klaperman, president of the Rabbinical Council of America, confessed to his colleagues at the rabbinical group’s Midwinter Conference in Upstate New York that he and other “Centrists” were “being drawn to the right by the adamant inflexibility of those who are at the right.” In time, by the end of the 1990s, Rabbi Lamm and others reclassified themselves as Modern Orthodox Jews. Since then, some have preserved “Centrist Orthodox Judaism” as a moniker that represents something a bit more religiously conservative while others have used the term interchangeably with Modern Orthodoxy. Sociologist Sylvia Fishman provided an interesting taxonomy in her Ways into the Varieties of Jewishness.

How is this subgroup of Orthodox Judaism faring? In terms of numbers, it’s clear that it is no longer the dominant community. In 2013, the Pew Research Center published “A Portrait of Jewish Americans.” The report was a landmark population study of Jews in the United States. Among its findings, Pew tabulated about 5 million Jews, about 10 percent of whom belong to the Orthodox group. Within that smaller group, 30 percent self-identify as “Modern Orthodox.” According to my math, this suggests that the Modern Orthodox number just 150,000 women and men. The more recent Pew survey completed in 2020 does not drill down on these figures but the dataset available online confirms that the Modern (or Centrist) Orthodox are no longer the mainstream of Orthodox Jewish life in the United States. 

            Why not? I’d offer that it’s because the tenets of Modern Orthodoxy are no longer all that distinguishable from the yeshiva world. The latter has softened its stance on Israel; the erstwhile anti-Zionists (save for Satmar) are by and large non-Zionists. The yeshiva world visits Israel, champions it, and votes for American politicians who they believe best serve Israel’s interests. In addition, the Modern Orthodox and Orthodox Right are much closer aligned in terms of higher education. The yeshiva world has developed partnerships with universities to help their children earn degrees in “practical” fields such as accounting and the health sciences. Their children enroll in top medical schools and elite law schools. With great ingenuity, the Orthodox Right produces manuals to help young people navigate the higher education system to obtain degrees through online programs. One of the most comprehensive is Reuven Frankel’s The Bochur’s Guide to College.

            Meanwhile, the Modern Orthodox have cooled to the liberal arts and the traditional undergraduate experience. Some (understandably) worry about how their children will do on a secular college campus, amid BDS and rising antisemitism. Even before this, though, about 20 years ago, two Ivy League graduate students, Gil Perl and Yaakov Weinstein, wrote a pamphlet titled, “A Parents’ Guide to Orthodox Assimilation on University Campuses.” The short tract with a Modern Orthodox audience in mind warned about the perils of the campus quad. It received significant attention; it was passed around in yeshivot and seminaries in Israel and discussed at many Hillels throughout the United States. 

It's not just the social and cultural aspects of college life. The Modern Orthodox—like so many Americans—have counseled their youngsters to forsake “impractical” degrees in the humanities in favor of business programs, computer science, and other professional-minded tracks. Consider the case of Yeshiva University. In 1987, YU opened the Sy Syms School of Business in response to student requests for “new areas of interest.” President Norman Lamm anticipated the criticism. Even as a minority of students pleaded for business programs, he was adamant that YU remain a liberal arts school. YU’s business school, therefore, trumpeted Rabbi Lamm, “insists on a liberal dose of the liberal arts.” He remained resolutely opposed to total vocationalism and intended for the business school to retain a small portion of the university’s total undergraduate offerings. Today, Sy Syms’ male student body is larger than (the all-male) Yeshiva College’s (Stern College for Women is still much larger than the women’s cohort at Sy Syms). Withal, and due to a lower birthrate than families belonging to the yeshiva world, it is little wonder that the Modern Orthodox community is not growing, at least not at the same rapid pace of the Orthodox Right.

 

  1. What are the three greatest challenges facing Modern Orthodoxy today?

 

First, politicization. By this, I do not mean that Modern Orthodox Jews have en bloc taken up a particular political party’s cause or voted in a monolithic way. Modern Orthodox Jews probably vote somewhere in between the GOP-leaning Orthodox Right and the majority of American Jews who have, since FDR, voted for Democrats. By politicization, I have in mind the recent discourse about Modern Orthodox Judaism that has centered on politics rather than faith. This is not new in the history of American religion. For instance, in the decades leading up to the Civil War, politics (slavery) split Baptists and Methodists into “northern” and “southern” sections. The United States’ democratic processes are contentious and deeply meaningful; as a result, they tend to absorb considerable discussion and secrete into other areas of life—education, sports, and popular culture, to list a few. Perhaps, then, it was inevitable that matters such as LGBTQ+ and First Amendment issues would eventually dominate the conversations of Modern Orthodox Jews in the media and around the Shabbat table. Yet, it has come at the expense of Modern Orthodoxy spending time on pressing religious concerns: These include refining its approach to Torah study, revitalizing its synagogues, and forming new agencies and ideas to better support its constituencies. 

            Second, expertise. A dozen years ago, researchers Randall Stephens and Karl Giberson authored a brilliant monograph on expertise in the American evangelical community. Their work, The Anointed, demonstrated how the Christian Right elevated self-taught and self-described experts to champion “Evangelical Truth in a Secular Age.” These men (few of these experts were women) published books, wrote articles and took to other forms of modern media to weigh in on science, politics, and history. Their goal was to provide an alternative and “safer” form of truth that could, in their minds, better jibe with their communities’ religious and social sensibilities. Very often, these evangelical exponents deployed rhetorical apologetics and made statements without the sufficient scholarly scaffolding to make cogent and compelling arguments—at least not the kind that would satisfy the most learned. While some within this group such as the historian Mark Noll, described this phenomenon as the “scandal of the Evangelical Mind,” many pious Protestants have felt more comfortable with internal experts, no matter how these individuals compare to scholars and researchers who had trained and received credentials from American universities.

            In the 1960s, the same was the case for the yeshiva world. Their magazines described “newfangled” research in psychology and education. They also worried about the research produced by women and men who were part of the nascent field of Jewish Studies. They often positioned these flawed disciplines against the flawlessness of Daas Torah, a term that denotes a belief in an unimpeachable form of rabbinic wisdom. 

More subtly and more recently, the Modern Orthodox have revealed the same concerns about elevating experts, even within their own community, who possess top credentials. More often than not, congregational rabbis and yeshiva heads are asked to opine on mental health, dating advice, and lecture in the areas of science, history, and philosophy. In some instances, these rabbis and religious leaders possess relevant credentials. Rarely, however, do they conduct research, write, or, I suspect, generally keep up with their peers in the field. Modern Orthodox communities have become much better about inviting a small (but growing) cluster of women leaders to speak on a myriad of issues. But, like their male counterparts, these women are often asked to speak about areas far beyond their specializations. 

            Confounding this further is social media and the relatively low cost of publication. On the one hand, social media has democratized discourse, permitting many people to obtain a voice on various platforms and podcasts. On the other hand, the phenomenon has short-circuited the vetting process. While it is hardly the case that all articles and books published decades ago were the finest works of scholarship, there are, at present, no controls on material produced for wide consumption and consideration. The result of this and the decline of expertise in the Modern Orthodox fold is that there is no very trustworthy forum for intelligent conversation about Modern Orthodox Judaism.

            Third, economics. It is very expensive to live a Modern Orthodox lifestyle. The cost of education is particularly painful. Day School and college are very expensive. Tuition for families, say, with four children enrolled in Day School and summer camp can run, easily, about $120,000 (and that’s after taxes). Rising mortgage rates and housing costs just add to the high cost of Modern Orthodox living. To be sure, it’s not cheap to live in the yeshiva world. Yet, the Orthodox Right, it is my sense, finds philanthropic and government resources (troubling exposés in the media, notwithstanding), to help subvent some costs. 

 

  1. What positive developments do you sense for contemporary Modern Orthodoxy?

 

It is too soon to speculate about our post-pandemic Modern Orthodox communities. No doubt, synagogues and their leaders have had to reconsider the needs of their congregants. Likewise, Day Schools, forced to pivot and improvise during the “shutdown” Covid period, have learned a lot about their capacities and their ongoing needs for professional development. As for economics, especially amid rising interest rates and inflation, it is far too soon to prognosticate remedies. However, it is heartening to observe the efforts of the Orthodox Union and other agencies who have worked closely with state-level lawmakers to find funding to support Jewish education. In short, the crisis wrought by the Covid-19 pandemic has forced all types of people to think differently about their communities and organizations. This has, no doubt, extended to the Modern Orthodox.

            There’s another reason for optimism. Even before the coronavirus pandemic, Modern Orthodox Judaism in the United States was the beneficiary of an exciting jolt of energy from their dati-le’umi counterparts in Israel. Israelis have inspired new and more advanced forms of learning for America’s Modern Orthodox women, introduced new thinkers and ideas, thanks in large part to Koren Publishers. Still, there are cultural differences between the Modern Orthodox in the United States and Israel’s dati-le’umi leaders. America’s Modern Orthodox community was fashioned by a Lithuanian rabbinic folkway. 

For this reason, traditional Talmud study (“yeshiva learning”) was the coin of the realm for leadership. Unlike in Israel, non-Eastern European exponents such as Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, did not gain a sturdy foothold in American environs. It’s also the reason that Tanakh scholarship is better appreciated among the dati-le’umi constellation Israel than it has been within the Modern Orthodox communities in the United States. This also may suggest why women’s leadership has developed differently in the two communities. If these realms are changing in the United States, it is probably because of Israel’s influence. Not everything from Israel will “take,” of course. The indigenous Modern Orthodox community will continue to privilege traditional Talmud learning, even as other areas of Torah scholarship gain increased reception. We’ll figure out what works best and redevelop the infrastructure to reimagine and fortify our Modern Orthodox communities in the United States.

 

 

Kohelet Chapters 1-3: A Commentary on the Human Condition

 

Introduction
These opening chapters introduce Kohelet’s central preoccupations: the tension
between wisdom and futility, the fleeting nature of pleasure, and the yearning for
meaning in a world that offers no permanence.
Kohelet begins with a name, or rather a title. The word appears seven times in the
book, most notably at the beginning: Divrei Kohelet ben David melekh bi-
Yerushalayim—“The words of Kohelet son of David, king in Jerusalem” (1:1).
Traditionally identified with King Solomon, the title Kohelet seems to derive from kahal,
to assemble. He is either one who gathers wisdom or one who gathers people to share
it—an ancient preacher-philosopher. The Greek translation, Ecclesiastes, reflects this
notion: one who addresses the assembled.
But why does Solomon speak through a nickname? As one midrash
(Deuteronomy Rabbah 1:5) observes, if anyone else had declared “havel havalim,” we
might dismiss him as bitter or impoverished. Only someone who had everything—wealth,
wisdom, success—could credibly proclaim the futility of it all. Kohelet becomes not
merely Solomon, but a stand-in for every person who reflects deeply on life, death, and
the search for meaning.
Though the persona is royal, the voice shifts. The early chapters describe kingly
accomplishments, but by the end of chapter 2 the royal framing fades. The epilogue refers
to Kohelet not as king but as a sage. This suggests a deliberate transition: from historical
monarch to timeless teacher. What begins as a personal account becomes a universal
meditation on the human condition.
“Havel Havalim”: The Motto of the Sefer (1:2–3)
The book’s opening declaration—Havel havalim…ha-kol havel—resounds as its
central motif. The word hevel appears 38 times in Kohelet (out of 73 in all of Tanakh),
often translated as “vanity” or “futility.” In biblical Hebrew, it literally means “breath” or
“vapor.” This metaphor, developed in Kohelet Rabbah and drawing from a related
meaning in Job 7:16, evokes ephemerality—life as a puff of air, hevel marks the
dissolution of coherence under suffering.
But the tone is more than ephemeral—it’s often painful. Hevel is paired with
ra’ah (evil), holi ra (grievous sickness), and inyan ra (troubling occupation). The theme
isn’t simply that life is short; it is incomprehensible, even unjust. This view emerges
sharply in 2:21–23 and 6:1–2: people labor with wisdom and skill only to have their
portion go to someone unworthy.
Michael V. Fox describes hevel as “absurdity”: not nihilism, but the intrusion of
the irrational into a world we expect to make sense. 129 Rashi and Rashbam (on
Ecclesiastes 8:14) adopt a similar interpretation. Yet critics like Mark Sneed push back,
noting that hevel in Tanakh typically means “worthless” or “futile,” not absurd. 130 Samuel
Goh suggests a mediating view: Vapor is vague, amorphous. Wisdom, enjoyment, and
divine justice—much like hevel—resist absolute definition. Life defies either/or

meaning, and is filled with contradictions. Goh affirms Fox’s insight into the ambiguity
of life, while preserving the word’s more traditional connotations of vapor, futility, and
impermanence. 131
Hevel thus marks the boundary between human longing and the ungraspable
nature of reality—a motif Kohelet returns to again and again.
The Quest for Yitron (1:3)
Kohelet’s great question is: Mah yitron la-adam be-khol amalo?—“What profit
does a person have from all his toil under the sun?” The term yitron, “lasting benefit,” is
key. While there may be helek, momentary portion or joy, yitron implies
permanence—and that is what eludes us.
Amal, “toil,” appears frequently—13 times as a verb in Kohelet and 22 more
times as a noun. It captures both the effort and its fruit. But everything “under the
sun”—a phrase unique to Kohelet (29 times)—is bounded by human experience.
Yonatan Grossman and Asael Abelman distinguish between tahat ha-shemesh
(human activity) and tahat ha-shamayim (a broader, divine vantage point, which appears
three times in Kohelet). Kohelet’s perspective is human, grounded in the temporal
world. 132
Nature, Memory, and Meaning (1:4–11)
Nature’s cycles—sun, wind, rivers—are described with rhythmic beauty in 1:4–7.
Yet for Kohelet, their endless repetition signals futility. As Ibn Ezra and Mordechai Zer-
Kavod note, nature’s constancy contrasts with human transience: the earth endures, but
people vanish. Rashbam, however, reads the passage as showing that even nature exhibits
no progress, only cycles.
Grossman and Abelman 133 add a subtle point: Unlike Psalm 104, which celebrates
the cyclical order of nature as divine providence, Kohelet sees these cycles as
oppressive—a beautiful machine that ultimately goes nowhere.
Everything is in motion, yet nothing advances. Just as the ocean is never full, the
human appetite is never satisfied (1:8). The prose in 1:9–11 reinforces the poem’s
message: everything that seems new has happened before, and human memory is
unreliable. People—and their deeds—are forgotten. History offers no redemptive
progress.
The Futility of Knowing (1:12–18)
Kohelet presents himself as a seeker: ani Kohelet hayiti melekh—“I, Kohelet, was
king.” His quest for wisdom becomes a burden. La’anot bo, refers both to pursuit and
affliction. The Targum and several later commentators, including Mordechai Zer-Kavod,
connect this phrase to inuy, suffering. Wisdom does not ease frustration—it intensifies it
(1:18).
The phrase re’ut ru’ah—“a chasing after wind”—appears seven times. Like trying
to shepherd the wind (Hosea 12:2), it is futile and maddening. Fox distinguishes between

re’ut ru’ah and ra’ayon ru’ah (1:17): the pursuit of wisdom may succeed, but it still
brings vexation.
The Limits of Pleasure and Achievement (Chapter 2)
Finding wisdom vexing, Kohelet turns to another domain—pleasure—but finds it
similarly fleeting. Kohelet turns from wisdom to pleasure: wine, gardens, wealth, music,
and concubines. He builds palaces and orchards, amassing more than any before him
(2:4–10). The repeated root asah (“to make”) underscores the scale of his
accomplishments.
Yet none of it endures. Though his wisdom remains intact (2:9), it offers no
ultimate advantage. The final verdict: ha-kol hevel u-re’ut ru’ah, it was all futile and
pursuit of wind (2:11). Kohelet’s unprecedented success becomes his proof text for the
futility of even the best-case scenario.
Notably, even wisdom itself contains complexity. It is certainly better than folly
(2:13), yet it cannot prevent death (2:16). The wise and the fool share the same fate.
Worse, one’s legacy may fall into the hands of a fool (2:18–23).
A Theology of Gratitude (2:24–26)
In response to life’s unpredictability, Kohelet begins to emphasize a more modest
joy: enjoying one’s portion. En tov ba-adam… ki im le-ekhol ve-lishtot—there is nothing
better than to eat, drink, and find satisfaction in one’s toil. This is not hedonism, but a
theology of helek, of recognizing the gifts that come from God, not from our own merit.
Kohelet Rabbah and Rashi spiritualize this verse—interpreting food and drink as
Torah and commandments. But the peshat, as Rashbam, Mordechai Zer-Kavod, and
others note, emphasizes the fleeting joys of life as God’s gift. Work hard, live
decently—but recognize that control is limited. The difference between the wise and the
fool lies in how they respond to life’s challenges and limitations. This shift recurs
throughout the book in similar refrains (e.g., 3:12–13, 5:17–19), reinforcing its role as a
kind of “practical theology.”
Time and Eternity (Chapter 3)
The famous poem in 3:1–8—“a time for every purpose”—underscores human
limitations. We do not control time. Kohelet recognizes that God “placed eternity in the
human heart” (3:11), yet withheld the ability to grasp it fully.
Ibn Ezra and Zer-Kavod interpret ha-olam as a yearning for eternity. We desire
permanence, but live in a fleeting world of change. This too, Kohelet says, is God’s
design: that we should be humbled, stand in awe, and learn our limits (3:14).
While some verses affirm divine justice (3:15–17), others question it. Kohelet
compares humans to animals—both die, both return to dust. The refrain mi
yode’a—“who knows?”—signals humility. He does not deny afterlife, but rather cannot
appeal to it to resolve the moral dilemmas of this world.

Kohelet 1–3 lays bare the soul’s aching tension: the yearning for permanence
amid life’s transience. In this opening meditation, Kohelet teaches not to resolve the
tension, but to live honestly within it.
Kohelet deliberately avoids any appeal to afterlife or resurrection in his account of
divine justice. His theological vision is entirely this-worldly. For a broader discussion of
afterlife in Jewish thought, and how later Jewish texts grappled with the same tensions
Kohelet raises, see the appendix essay, “Afterlife in Jewish Thought.”
Kohelet 1–3 sets the tone for a book that never settles for easy answers. In the
face of toil, impermanence, and uncertainty, Kohelet urges not despair, but
attentiveness—to fleeting joy, to moral humility, and to the awe of God that arises from
honest limitation.

The Grasshopper Effect and Other Defects in Modern Orthodox Leadership

 

 

Since the days of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, the Orthodox world has been blessed with many great leaders and thinkers who have scrupulously observed halakha (Jewish law) but who have, at the same time, adjusted to the modern world, including its science and technology. In more recent times, we have been fortunate to have Yeshiva University as guided by Rabbi Norman Lamm and more recently by Richard Joel. We have had a series of outstanding chief rabbis of the United Hebrew Congregations of the Commonwealth, most recently, Jonathan Sacks. There was the incomparable Joseph B. Soloveitchik, of course, whose inspirational teachings have generated numerous leaders across the globe.

I continue to be impressed with Jewish thinkers such as Menachem Kellner, David Hartman, Adam Ferziger, Marc Shapiro, José Faur, Joseph Telushkin, and many others. At the same time, we have inspiring congregational leaders who have assumed wider roles, such as Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, Rabbi Benjamin Lau, Rabbi Marc Angel, and Rabbi Avi Weiss. In Israel we have the example of Yeshivat Har Etzion, so ably led by Rabbis Aharon Lichtenstein and Yehuda Amital. One cannot help but be impressed with the textual skill of Rabbi Menachem Leibtag.

Notwithstanding our recent history of esteemed leaders and thinkers, the weaknesses in our Orthodox world cannot be ignored if they are to be mended. A variety of factors have resulted in a collapse of any meaningful application of the word "leadership" to Modern Orthodoxy. This collapse is mostly self-induced.

A few years ago I was walking on Ben Yehuda Street in Jerusalem. In the Jewish world there are not six degrees of separation but rather, only one or two for the most part. I was searching the passing faces for people I knew. There was something oddly familiar about a gentleman approaching me, but I assumed it could not be anybody that I knew because the man was decked out in a long black coat and big-brimmed black hat of the type rarely seen in my hometown of Seattle except for on the occasional meshulah (charity collector). As my brain adjusted, though, I could see that it was a rabbi I had known for many years. I knew him as a moderate, educated, Modern Orthodox congregational leader. My confusion was multiplied when I remembered that this rabbi was Sephardic, yet he was dressed as if he were someone from Eastern Europe in the high fashion of Polish gentry 200 years ago. We greeted each other and I asked him why he was dressed in Hareidi garb. He straightforwardly answered that, in order to fit in and be taken seriously as a rabbi, he felt he had to dress in that manner and conform to "the look."

This encounter was symbolic as it relates to the topic at hand, which is the leadership crisis. This brings us to one of the most distinct factors in the decline of leadership: a massive inferiority complex. When the Jews left Egypt, they left with the direct intervention of God, with all God's visible power and with the promise of continuing intervention in the conquest of the Promised Land. Moses assembled the leadership of the time and sent them to reconnoiter the land. Despite having all of the power of God behind them, the majority had a crisis of confidence. Ten of the twelve spies projected their own insecurities onto the situation with the Canaanites, and in a famous bout of self-criticism said: "We were like grasshoppers in our eyes, and so were we in their eyes" (Numbers 13:31-33).

In the context of this discussion, many in our Modern Orthodox world, including congregational rabbis and organizations, seem to frequently operate with one eye on the Hareidi world as if it consisted of giants. As a consequence, they seem to view themselves as inferior. It is time to stop this grasshopper effect.

We must ask ourselves: Who are these "giants," and what do they stand for? The Hareidi world is characterized not only by observance of strictures (humrot), but also by the baggage that generally (although not always) comes with the long black coat and wide-rimmed black hat. More often than not, that baggage includes a rejection of reality. For example, most Hareidim insist that the universe is strictly 5,768 years old, despite overwhelming proof from geology, physics, astronomy, and biology that the universe is approximately 14 billion years old, the age of the earth is approximately 4.5 billion years, and life on this planet dates from about 3.5 billion years ago. They reject any notion of evolution, making themselves look foolish in the eyes not only of scientists but also in the eyes all people whose worldview is grounded in factual reality.

In addition, most Hareidim hold that a literal interpretation of Midrashim is often the most accurate. Here, I quote extensively from Maimonides' Commentary on the Mishna. Rambam's wisdom, written 825 years ago, still resonates. Since this passage inspires me, I quote it in full:

It is important for you to know that there are three classes [of thinkers] who differ in their interpretation of the words of the Sages, of blessed memory. The first class comprises the majority among those that I have come across and whose compositions I have read and of whom I have heard. They understand the words of the Sages literally and do not interpret them at all. To them all impossibilities are necessary occurrences. They only do this because of their ignorance of sciences and their being distant from [various] fields of knowledge. They do not possess any of the perfection that would stimulate them [to understanding] of their own accord, nor have they found someone else to arouse them. Therefore, they think that the intent of the Sages in all their precise and carefully stated remarks is only what they can comprehend and that these [remarks] are to be understood literally. This is despite the fact that in their literal sense some of the words of the Sages would seem to be so slanderous and absurd that if they were related to the uneducated masses in their literal sense, and all the more so to the wise, they would look upon them with amazement and exclaim: 'How is it possible that there exists in the world anyone who would think in this manner or believe that such statements are correct, much less approve of them!' This class is poor [in understanding] and one should pity their folly. In their own minds, they think they are honoring and exalting the Sages, but they are actually degrading them to the lowest depths. And they do not perceive that, as God lives, it is this class of thinkers that destroys the splendor of the Torah of God into saying the opposite of what it intends to convey. For God said in His perfect Torah: This is your wisdom and your understanding in the sight of the nations, which shall hear all these statutes and say: Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people. [Deuteronomy 4:6] But this category [of thinkers] expounds the words of the Sages in their literal sense so that when the nations hear them, they will say: "Surely this small nation is a foolish and degenerate people." (Introduction to his commentary on Perek Helek)


Throughout rabbinic literature, our Sages note that God's highest gift to humankind is our intelligence and our ability to think. But in the Hareidi world, people feel that their highest duty is to turn off that brain and allow their "Rav" or a "Gadol" to do their thinking for them about even the simplest and most personal things, including occupation, residence, spouses, and politics. Despite the acknowledged disappearance of prophecy within Judaism, at least until messianic times, Hareidim all but import it back into our faith through the concept of "Daas Torah." Loosely defined, "Daas Torah" is knowledge of all things because of immersion in Torah unadulterated by any other knowledge. (See Lawrence Kaplan, "Daas Torah: A Modern Conception of Rabbinic Authority," in the Orthodox Forum, Rabbinic Authority and Personal Authority.) We see the spectacle of well-known Hareidi rabbis speaking with self-confidence as to why God did specific things as if they have spoken to God directly. God's supposed reasons for the Holocaust proliferate, for example. In more recent times, God's so-called reasons for the devastation of New Orleans by Katrina, or reasons for the debacle of the last war in Lebanon against Hizbullah have been expounded by these "sages." The more isolated a Hareidi leader is from science, current events, indeed any secular knowledge, the more that world considers that leader as holy. These are the "giants" before whom many in the Modern Orthodox world feel small.


I have to question whether we really need to "look up" to the Hareidi world which overwhelmingly rejects the legitimacy of the State of Israel. Should we really be in awe of those in Israel who avoid national service-yet accept state welfare in huge numbers? For that matter, if we all took on their lifestyle, who would pay for it? In Israel we would all live in abject poverty. In the United States, we would take state welfare. In both countries we would live in ever-increasing ignorance. How is this a long-term solution to world change?

Jewish self-confidence eschews any need to seek validation in the views, real or imagined, of others. The Torah was given by God and, accordingly, we must view God's system as perfect. Jews have always been an infinitesimal percent of the world's population but this minority status has never been a concern of ours. Historically, Christianity and Islam have sought through force and active proselytizing to convert as many people as possible to their respective religions. Islam continues to support, for the most part, these goals through violence, while Christianity continues to pursue these goals by softer methods. Mormons have honed the proselytizing skills to such a degree that there are now almost as many Latter Day Saints in the world as there are Jews-even though Joseph Smith incorporated the religion only in 1830. Each of these religions partially justifies itself by pointing to what each of them perceives to be proof of the inherent validity of their religion. They argue that their religions are true because they have attracted so many millions of adherents, as if truth is a matter of popular vote, or is self-validated by large numbers of members. Many of our Modern Orthodox leaders turn, in similar fashion, to the Hareidi world for validation. The fact that so many Orthodox leaders act (or refuse to act) with one eye over their shoulder to how they think the so-called gedolim of B'nei Brak or Monsey will perceive them is an acute demonstration of an endemic shortage of self-confidence. People who are self-confident are not afraid of the marketplace of ideas, nor do they need to be ideologues believing in the most ridiculous of things despite evidence and proof to the contrary.

Another manifestation of the weakness of leadership is in the proliferation of outreach kollels of all stripes around the country, including Kollel MiZions. (See the article by Adam Ferziger of Bar Ilan University: "The Emergence of the Community Kollel.") There are a number of reasons why Modern Orthodox rabbis welcome these kollels into their midst and, so often, actively promote them. One of the reasons is that Orthodox leadership has become lazy and has outsourced to the kollels one of its primary functions. Leadership would imply feelings of responsibility for all Jews. Leadership would also require the desire to promote greater levels of observance in all congregants. Leadership would include outreach to nonmembers. Yet instead of taking on the responsibility, our Modern Orthodox leaders all too often simply abdicate. They sit back and watch the kollel families do their work for them, not realizing that their own authority and effectiveness are undermined.


The outreach function of the kollels has one other drastic effect on the quality of Modern Orthodox leadership. Except for the Kollel MiZion movement, the rabbis chosen for these kollels are, more often than not, trained in Hareidi yeshivas. Therefore, directly and indirectly, these kollels promote the views of the Hareidi yeshivas to the people with whom they interact, many of whom do not have backgrounds sufficiently solid to aid them in sorting out the wheat from the chaff.


Are these kollels encouraging their adherents to ask questions of and seek guidance from their local Orthodox rabbis? Occasionally this does happen, but more often they themselves give the answers, or they seek the answers from their own teachers and relay them to their adherents. The kollels are a Trojan horse to Modern Orthodox leadership but, by the time they realize it, it is often too late. (See my article on the Seattle experience at the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals website, www.jewishideas.org [3] [1] [1], entitled "The Seattle Kollel: A Study of Unintended Consequences.")

Often, when sufficient numbers of supporters are achieved, the kollels then promote their own schools (as was done in Seattle) and promote their own synagogues-and pressure the communities directly and indirectly to adopt Hareidi standards. An example of a Hareidi takeover is the transformation of the Breuer's Community in Washington Heights, New York City. That community supposedly followed in the footsteps of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch. The legacy was "Torah im derekh erets," Torah with the ways of the world. Rabbi Hirsch promoted the idea that truth is unitary, and that Judaism should strictly adhere to halakha, while responsibly and selectively incorporating well-tested facts and truths that come to us by way of secular culture. That community's transformation into just another Hareidi community was documented by George D. Frankel in his five-part 2002 essay entitled "Dan Shall Judge His People."

Within the North American Modern Orthodox community, the very concept of what a congregational rabbi is supposed to be has changed, leaving many in the dust of practical irrelevance. It used to be sufficient for the rabbi to be a halakhic expert and a good Talmud teacher. Today he must be so much more. Many of our Modern Orthodox rabbis lack any training, or even much interest, in the kinds of skills necessary for successful congregational leadership. Earning semikha (ordination) from most yeshivas does not require (nor do they even offer) training in psychology, sociology, communications, educational theory, or many other prerequisites for effective leadership within the context of the modern world. Until the various yeshivot teach and promote real leadership skills there will continue to be a decline in the effectiveness and power of congregational rabbis.

Another factor that promotes a decline in leadership is the way we allow Modern Orthodox leaders to be maligned. Those vibrant rabbis within the Modern Orthodox world who do spend time and energy trying to find the tools to attract and mold greater levels of observance are often ostracized and heavily criticized for their efforts. This negativity is not only from the Hareidi world but also from the Modern Orthodox community, another sign of insecurity and the need to seek validation from the right wing. While the conga lines during Adon Olam in Riverdale might not be my cup of tea, one cannot argue that spirited services and displays of warmth and friendship have brought thousands of Jews closer to God and have inspired ever-increasing levels of personal and communal observance and involvement. The pillorying of those rabbis who are making valiant efforts to truly lead can only discourage others from even trying. Here the aforementioned generalized insecurity manifests itself. Why? Because even within the Modern Orthodox world many rabbis are quick to jump on the Hareidi bandwagon of criticism of their fellows. Each tries to outdo the next in tearing down a colleague to "prove" how much more "religious" he is.

Torah Judaism provides a structure for a moral life. We as a people have been inhibited from maximizing our specific function and job on earth by millennia of persecution. Nevertheless, without a mission, without a purpose, no organization can stay healthy. Jewish leadership entails responsibility to perfect our fellow Jews and to teach the world by word and by example the ways of God, in order to bring the world to ethical monotheism. However, there is a strange fact within observant Judaism, including Modern Orthodoxy. Generally speaking, the further to the right one goes, the less one is concerned about fellow Jews outside one's own particular group and, certainly, the less one is concerned about the non-Jewish world. It is interesting to note that the further left toward Reform Judaism one goes, the more of an emphasis can be found on tikkun olam (repairing the world)-but the less emphasis one can find on the rest of the phrase, b'malkhut Shaddai (under the kingship of God). For this reason the causes embraced by the left are sometimes contrary to Jewish law. The further to the right one goes, one finds that the emphasis is on the yoke of heaven, and recognition of a responsibility to fix the world fades to nothingness. True leadership would promote the sight of kippot in rallies against the genocide in Darfur and the other ongoing mass murders. We should see participation in the promotion of human rights across the globe, not only for refuseniks, but also for the downtrodden in Zimbabwe. Our synagogues should be visible pillars of support for local food banks and neighborhood watch committees.

"Leadership" makes itself irrelevant when it fails to vigorously and unequivocally condemn immoral or illegal behavior just because the perpetrator is part of the Orthodox community. We should not be silent about sexual predators within our midst and within some of our schools. We should not turn a blind eye to the abuse of children or the denigration of women. Leadership should insist that tax evasion is not just a game and that dishonesty in business is not to be tolerated. There should not be an automatic defense of a kosher meat processor who systematically violates the law and treats workers as disposable commodities. There seems to be a fear that the rabbi who speaks out on these issues will himself be criticized by those further to the right.

When is the last time that many of us asked a halakhic question of our local Orthodox rabbi? And when we do ask questions, do we get well thought-out, reasoned opinions? When our lay and local leadership attend yeshiva in the United States or in Israel and turn to their roshei yeshivot for halakhic guidance they thereby undermine Orthodox leadership by failing to take seriously the local community rabbis. This is especially true today because of the proliferation of cheap communications by telephone and email. Our roshei yeshivot should stop this practice and encourage decisions at the local level.

When we do ask questions, we see the grasshopper effect again, because often an opinion is given orally with the refusal to put it in writing. In Seattle there are, for example, extensive written guidelines by the local Va'ad for Passover procedures and products. Oral advice is sometimes at odds with the written advice because local Orthodox rabbis simply don't want to put in writing a view that they think is correct but that will draw criticism from those further to the right. We have become people of the look, rather than people of the book. (See the Jerusalem Post article by Michael Freund, 1/29/08, entitled "People of the Look.")

Another problem with maintaining moderation within the Orthodox world is structural. Often, as in Seattle, the local Orthodox rabbis organize, ostensibly for more strength. They join together in a Va'ad for the purposes of uniform community standards. Since these Va'ads operate by consensus, there is a shift in these community standards to the most extreme views of the furthest right member. The nature of consensus is often, in practice, that the most extreme views have to be honored or there will be no consensus.

The recent controversy over conversions is a good example of the partial abdication of Modern Orthodox leadership in the United States, and is a further example of the "grasshopper effect." Many Orthodox rabbis throughout the United States know how ineffective they are at inspiring observance. They therefore have gravitated toward political requirements for conversion, requirements that have only tangential relationship to talmudic requirements for conversion. Every generation adds strictures, partly to show how "serious" they are about their Judaism. They frontload the conversion process with demands and commitments far beyond any requirement for native-born Jews. (See the Rabbinical Council of America (RCA) geirus [sic] standards on their website.) One reason they do this is they hope it will mean they will not have to spend energy inspiring converts to greater observance after conversion. The RCA's effort to conform to the will of the now Hareidi-controlled Chief Rabbinate is another example of the grasshopper effect. The RCA's effort to appease the Chief Rabbinate was almost immediately mocked by the ruling in Israel invalidating (supposedly and only in their view) potentially thousands of conversions previously done under the Chief Rabbinate's own Conversion Authority.

I recommend the book The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements by Eric Hoffer (1902-1983). Hoffer was a longshoreman who wrote philosophy. In 1983 he was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom for this book. In it, he analyzes the nature of ideology. One of the chief components of his argument is that beliefs are held onto so strongly by the ideologue that reality and any evidence appearing to contradict the belief system is simply ignored. Jewish leadership will fail to the extent that it holds onto beliefs such as the literal interpretation of Midrash, and a less than 6,000 year history to the universe.

In the short term, those true believers who find it necessary to not only be trembling (hareidim) before God but to also be trembling before science and the unfolding nature of reality, will continue to gain strength. There is a certain power that the true believer has, as witnessed by the political movements of the last century and continuing to the present time.

The world is moving too fast. Technology today is creating a new haskalah (enlightenment). Fundamentalism and rejection of reality are an understandable reaction found, not only within Judaism, but even more so within Islam, Christianity, and even within Hinduism. The Hareidim are in good company with Christian fundamentalists in the United States. For example, according to a Gallup Survey in 2004 almost half (45 percent) of Americans believe that the world is under 10,000 years old and that humans were created in our present form within that period. However, although understandable, the effort to shut off the stream of information is not a solid long-term approach to the challenge that faces us.

What Modern Orthodox leadership can offer in place of such a short-sighted approach is a path to the future that accepts reality, examines it through the lens of Jewish values, and helps us to strengthen our observance in the face of change. That is why we need to encourage an independent leadership at the international, national, and local levels. We need rabbis and lay leaders who are not so insecure in their Judaism that they must look to the Hareidi world for validation.

The Modern Orthodox have the numbers. According to a detailed study by Samuel C. Heilman, cited in his book Sliding to the Right, the Contest for the Future of American Jewish Orthodoxy, approximately 11 percent of identifiable North American Jews are Orthodox. Of them, only 27-32 percent could be classified as Hareidi, with half of that number being Hasidim. In other words, about 70 percent of observant Jews in North America fall into the category of Modern Orthodox.

In addition to the numbers, the Modern Orthodox also have the economic power, the educational and organizational background, and the knowledge to continue to lead the Jewish people throughout this century and into the future. We need leaders who can strengthen us for the future by understanding the present. We need leaders who recognize the potential of Modern Orthodoxy. We need leaders who embrace our strengths, and who reject the grasshopper mentality.