Min haMuvhar

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

When I served as President of the Rabbinical Council of America (1990-92), I asked Rabbi Moshe Tendler to develop a health care proxy for the RCA, that would take into consideration issues relating to halakhic organ donation. An internationally renowned authority in halakha and medical ethics, Rabbi Tendler concluded that brain-stem death constitutes halakhic (as well as medical) death; that organ donation is permissible and praiseworthy according to halakha; that Jews faithful to halakha should arrange for a health care proxy form, that will assure that decisions will be made in consultation with proper medical and halakhic authority.

Rabbi Tendler's report and health care proxy form were discussed at an RCA convention, as well as in other study forums sponsored by the RCA. There was substantial controversy at the time, but the consensus of the RCA rabbis was to adopt Rabbi Tendler's position and to issue a health care proxy form in line with his recommendations. In spite of strong pressure from right-wing Orthodox groups, and intense opposition from some rabbis within the RCA, we succeeded in making a decision that was halakhically and medically sound, that provided for halakhic organ donation that could save lives. This was, to my mind, a very proud moment for the RCA. It demonstrated that the modern Orthodox rabbinate was capable of making an important decision in a responsible way--and that it had the courage to withstand external--and internal--pressures.

Once we took our position, the attacks on the RCA's decision increased. I wrote an article for Jewish Action Magazine, published by the Orthodox Union, that I reprint below, presenting our arguments in favor of our position.

During the past few years, a committee of the RCA has revisited the issue of halakhic definition of death and the permissibility of organ donation. The committee recently issued its lengthy report. While not taking a formal position, the report backed away from the RCA's previous stance, and seems to tilt away from the brain-stem death definition of death. By not upholding the earlier position of the RCA, the current RCA leadership has decided it was most prudent for the RCA not to make such important decisions for the public, but to back away from taking a formal stand. The modern Orthodox rabbinate has again shown itself unable or unwilling to assume halakhic leadership and responsibility. It would prefer to straddle the fence, and let others make the important and controversial decisions.

An important article on "Death by Neurological Criteria" by Dr. Noam Stadlan offers a critique of the RCA's new report. It is available at torahmusings.com, and I recommend it highly. I also suggest that readers visit the website of the HOD Society for more information on the topic.

My article, going back to spring 1992, is printed below. I believe that the basic points of that article continue to be valid today. It reflects an optimism I had then about modern Orthodox rabbinic decision-making--an optimism which has been much dampened in recent years.

THE RCA HEALTH CARE PROXY
PROVIDING RESPONSIBLE HALAKHIC
LEADERSHIP TO OUR COMMUNITY

WHAT IS A HEALTH CARE PROXY?

A person, Heaven forbid, may become critically ill and be physically or mentally incapable of responding to doctors’ questions concerning continued treatment. Who then will have the right to make these life and death decisions? If an individual has prepared a health care proxy form, the person named in that form as his proxy would be empowered to make these decisions. If an individual has not designated a proxy, the medical staff will decide.
Obviously, a Jew who wishes such decisions to be made in consonance with halakhah should appoint a trusted person to be his or her health care proxy and should prepare the necessary health care proxy form. Federal law now requires health care providers to inform patients of their right to a health care proxy.
Religious Jews should utilize this right to assure that their treatment will conform to halakhic standards.

The Rabbinical Council of America has issued a health care proxy form, prepared by Rabbi Dr. Moshe Tendler, Chairman of the RCA’s Medical Ethics Commission. Members of the RCA have received a copy of the health care proxy, as well as material relating to the medical and halakhic issues involved. A Yom Iyyun was held on November 21, 1991, which included presentations by Rabbi Tendler and two world-renowned medical experts—Dr. Dominick Purpura, Dean of the Albert Einstein Medical College of Yeshiva University and Professor of Neurology; and Dr. Fred Plum, head of the Department of Neurology of the New York Hospital and Cornell University Medical College. The RCA has taken the responsible position of responding to a pressing communal need, providing vital information to the rabbis of the RCA so that they might guide their congregants wisely.

THE BRAIN-STEM DEATH ISSUE

A significant feature of the RCA health care proxy form is that it accepts brain-stem death as the definition of death.
This definition allows for the possibility of transplants of vital organs. Organs may, with the proper permission and safeguards, be taken from brain-stem dead individuals and transplanted to save the lives of others.

When the brain-stem dies, a fact that can be determined with absolute certainty by means of various tests, a person no longer can breathe independently—the brain-stem controls respiration, as well as other vital life processes. Brain-stem death includes respiration death and is irreversible.
At the RCA Yom Iyyun, Dr. Purpura and Dr. Plum both indicated that the brain-stem death definition today is accepted universally in the medical world. It is policy in all fifty states of the United States. It is defined specifically and can be determined with complete accuracy.

Dr. Purpura, in his lecture to the RCA, pointed out the historical background relating to brain-stem death. Ancient teachers thought that life was centered in the heart and that the brain was useless. By the mid-seventeenth century, researchers discovered that the brain controlled various aspects of the body. During the past several centuries, it has become clear that the brain is the center of life, that it controls all aspects of the living organism. Modern research has demonstrated how each part of the brain controls specific functions, with the brain-stem controlling respiration and other vital functions.
The brain simply cannot be equated with other vital organs. It is unique. Our brain defines who we are.

WHAT BRAIN-STEM DEATH IS NOT

Much of the confusion surrounding the brain-stem definition of death derives from the popular, unscientific use of the phrase “brain death.” If a person is in a deep coma, if his upper brain is not functioning, if he is in a persistent vegetative state—he is not brain dead. Death occurs only with the death of the brain-stem, not with the non-functioning of the upper brain.

THE HALAKHIC BASIS
The brain-stem definition of death was accepted by the Chief Rabbinate in Israel after thorough discussions with halakhic and medical authorities. The text of the Chief Rabbinate’s decision was published in Tehumin in 5746 (1986) and in English translation in Tradition, Summer, 1989. Based on this decision of the Chief Rabbis, organ transplants do take place in Israel under halakhic supervision. Rabbi Shaul Yisraeli, in evaluating the issues involved, concluded that the decision of the Chief Rabbinate was sound and that the arguments of opponents were halakhically unfounded (Barkai, Spring 5747, pp. 32—41).
Rabbi Moshe Feinstein already had accepted the brain-stem definition of death in a responsum dated 5736 (1976). He ruled that when a patient showed no signs of life—e.g. no movement or response to stimuli—then the total cessation of independent respiration is an absolute proof that death has occurred (Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh De’ah, 3:132). If a person cannot breathe any longer due to brain-stem death, then a respirator attached to the person is merely pumping air into a dead body. Even if the heart continues to beat, the person is deemed to be dead. Indeed, after death, it is possible for individual organs to move spasmodically. Rambam, in his commentary on Mishnah Aholot 1:6, discusses the case of decapitation, and notes that pirkhus, movement of limbs after death, is not to be construed as a sign of life. Rabbi Moshe Tendler has referred to brain- stem death as “physiological decapitation.” With the death of the brain-stem, the control center of breathing and other vital functions has been cut off totally and irreversibly.

In a letter dated May 24, 1976, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein wrote to Assemblyman Herbert J. Miller, Chairman of the New York State Assembly Committee on Health. Rabbi Feinstein stated clearly, “The sole criterion of death is the total cessation of spontaneous respiration. . . the total cessation of independent respiration is an absolute proof that death has occurred.”

Opponents of the brain-stem death definition have attempted to confuse the public as to Rabbi Feinstein’s position. Although they are free to disagree with Rabbi Feinstein’s pesak, it is unconscionable that they should try to misrepresent his clear and consistent view, i.e. that brain-stem death is the true definition of death. Rabbi Mordechai Halperin (Assia, December 1989) researched the issue carefully and concluded that the evidence was clear that Rabbi Feinstein definitely accepted the brain-stem death definition. This position was confirmed by Dr. Ira Greifer of the Albert Einstein Medical College, who had spent several days discussing the issue in great detail with Rabbi Feinstein. Rabbi Feinstein’s acceptance of the brain-stem death definition also was confirmed by others who had discussed the question with him. In short, the RCA health care proxy is corroborated by the authoritative decisions of Rabbi Moshe Feinstein and the Chief Rabbinate of Israel. It is based on the very best scientific knowledge available.

SOME IMPLICATIONS
Those who reject the brain-stem death definition consider it murder to remove vital organs from a person who is brain stem dead, but whose heart is still beating. The implication of this position is that organ transplantation is forbidden. A doctor would not be allowed to remove vital organs from the brain-stem dead body; nor would it be ethical for a patient to benefit from an organ which had been the result of “murder.” I asked a rabbi of my acquaintance who opposes the brain stem definition of death what he would rule if a Jewish doctor asked him whether he could remove the heart of a brain-stem dead body to save the life of another person. The rabbi answered: “Let the doctor rely on Rabbi Tendler!” When I pressed the matter, insisting that he give the pesak and not defer to others, he refused to do so. In other words, he publicly went on record opposing the RCA position; and yet, privately, if confronted with a life and death situation he would rely on the RCA [i.e. Rabbi Tendler's] position.

Rabbi Mordekhai Eliyahu, in a recent discussion with the RCA, told us that a number of rabbis who publicly oppose the Chief Rabbinate’s ruling, nevertheless send their friends and relatives to receive organ transplants—organs which can be taken only from a brain-stem dead body. Several leading rabbis from Israel recently issued a brief statement opposing the brain-stem death definition. We have politely requested a responsum, fully argued and reasoned, so that we might study the basis of their pesak. No reply has been forthcoming to date.

Unfortunately, the brain-stem death issue has become a matter of public controversy and confusion. Since life and death decisions hinge on this matter, it is imperative that the public have lucid and accurate information. People may choose to follow the RCA’s decision—based on the finest halakhic and scientific authority—or they may choose to reject it. There are serious arguments in opposition to the RCA’s position, but everyone should understand what the case for the RCA is and should not misrepresent its position.

People should not intellectualize and abstract the issue; rather, they should see it in personal terms. If a loved one, Heaven forbid, needed an organ transplant in order to live, would you rely on the RCA decision to allow transplants from brain-stem dead bodies? Or would you let the loved one die? Or would you choose the morally repugnant position of allowing the transplant even though you believed that halakhically it entailed murder?
The RCA position is not only well-founded on halakhic and scientific authority. It also is humane, responsible and compassionate. It is a demonstration of responsible halakhic and moral leadership to our community.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Rabbinic Statement Regarding Organ Donation

We, the undersigned Orthodox rabbis and rashei yeshiva affirm the following principles with regard to organ donation and brain stem death:
First and foremost, the halakhic definition of death is a long-standing debate amongst gedolei ha-poskim, and it should not be forgotten that, among others in the U.S. and Israel, the former Chief Rabbis of Israel, R. Avraham Shapira and R. Mordechai Eliyahu, zikhronam li’vracha, and, yibadel li’chayim, Rav Gedalia Dov Schwartz, the av beis din of the Beit Din of America, are strong proponents of the position that brain stem death constitutes the halakhic definition of death.
Both positions, that brain stem death constitutes death, and that only cardiac death can define death, are halakhically viable. This remains so even in light of the findings of the President’s Council on Bioethics in 2008.
With regard to this long-standing debate, and its critical implications for organ donation, we affirm our position that:

1. Brain stem death is a halakhically operational definition of death. As such, organs may be removed for transplantation under strict halakhic supervision and guidance.
2. In light of the serious moral issues and profound lifesaving potential presented by the possibility of organ donation, we strongly recommend that rabbis who are rendering decisions for their laity on this matter demonstrate a strong predisposition to accept the halakhic view of the gedolei haposkim who define the moment of halakhic death to be that of brain stem death, or that they refer their laity to rabbis who do so.

3. Even as we adopt the brain stem definition of death, we emphasize that the greatest of care is needed in applying this definition in practice, and that safeguards are necessary to insure the organ removal is done in accordance with halakhic principles. Each person should consult with his or her rabbi and appropriate medical professionals to understand how this determination of death is made, and how to ensure that the appropriate procedures will be in place.

4. Rabbis and laity who follow the position that brain stem death is not considered to be halakhic death should be aware that it is medically possible to donate certain body parts after cardiac death and that it is a mitzvah to do so. Thus,

<>a.It is both halakhically permissible and desirable and ethically mandated for every Jew to be an organ donor consistent with his or her definition of halakhic death.

<>b.Rabbis and community leaders must do all in their power to communicate this responsibility to the community, and to encourage all Jews to sign organ donor cards, in line with their halakhic definition of death.

5. To adopt a restrictive position regarding donating organs and a permissive position regarding receiving organs is morally untenable. Such an approach is also highly damaging to the State of Israel, both internally and in regards to its relationship with the larger world, and to the Jewish People as a whole. This approach must thus be unequivocally rejected by Jews at the individual and the communal level.

Signed:

R. Shlomo Riskin, Efrat, Israel

R. Yuval Cherlow, Petach Tikva, Israel

R. Binny Lau, Jerusalem, Israel

R. Yoel Bin Nun, Israel

R. David Bigman, Ma’ale Gilboa, Israel

R. Yehudah Gilad, Ma’ale Gilboa, Israel

R. Binyamin Walfish, Jerusalem, Israel

R. Dr. Avraham Walfish. Israel

R. Herzl Hefter, Jerusalem, Israel

R. Haskel Lookstein, NewYork NY

R. Yosef Adler, Teaneck, NJ

R. Dov Linzer, Riverdale, NY

R. Avi Weiss, Riverdale, NY

R. Barry Gelman, Houston, TX

R. Asher Lopatin, Chicago, IL

R. Yosef Kanefsky, Los Angeles, CA

R. Benjy Samuels, Newton, MA

R. Chaim Marder, White Plains, NY

R. Yaakov Love, Passaic, NJ

R. Nati Helfgot, Teaneck, NJ

R. Ysoscher Katz, New York, NY

R. Marc Angel, New York, NY

R. Hayyim Angel, NY

When I think back on my years at Yeshiva College (1963-67), I am forever grateful for having studied with a number of truly remarkable professors. One of the best was Dr. Louis H. Feldman (October 29, 1926-March 25, 2017).

Dr. Feldman taught classical languages. He had very few students—there were four of us in my Latin class. When I registered for Latin, one of the upper classmen warned me: Feldman is a very tough teacher; you should avoid him if you can. But instead of discouraging me, that warning whetted my curiosity. Who was this Dr. Feldman who had such a daunting reputation?

Wikipedia offers a short biographical sketch: “Feldman received his undergraduate degree (as valedictorian) from Trinity College, Hartford, CT in 1946 and his master’s degree the following year. In 1951, he received his doctoral degree in philology from Harvard University for his dissertation Cicero’s Concept of Historiography. He returned to Trinity College as a teaching fellow and eventually served as classics instructor before leaving for Hobart and William Smith Colleges in 1953. Feldman began teaching at Yeshiva University as an instructor in 1955, became an assistant professor in 1956, an associate professor in 1961 and, in 1966, a professor of classics. In 1993, he was appointed Abraham Wouk Family Professor of Classics and Literature at Yeshiva University.” Dr. Feldman published important works and won many academic honors.

Aside from teaching us Latin, Dr. Feldman taught us how to think. While I have forgotten most of my Latin, I have not forgotten his intellectual guidance.

In his lectures, he gave us the following notice. “Everything I tell you might be true or might be false. But if you ask me a question, I’ll always give you the correct answer.” We had to listen carefully when he spoke; and we had to use our critical faculties to assess whether the information he was giving us was true or false. If something sounded wrong, we had to ask him for clarification. His basic point was: don’t rely on authorities, not even your own professor. Think for yourself, think carefully and analytically.

Sure enough, on one of his exams we all answered a question “correctly,” and we all were marked wrong. When we objected, since we only wrote down what he himself taught us, he replied with a wry smile: “yes, but I wasn’t telling the truth then! You should have been more perceptive, you should have challenged me.” So we all received poor grades on that exam; but we learned a lesson that transcended Latin: we learned to be attentive, critical, self-reliant.

Dr. Feldman assigned us to write a paper that we would present to the class orally. Since I was taking a class in Chaucer at the time, I decided to write a paper on Virgil’s influence on Chaucer. When it was time for me to present my paper, Dr. Feldman sat in the back of the room. No sooner had I made my first point, Dr. Feldman raised his hand. “How do you know that Chaucer drew that phrase from Virgil? Maybe he came up with it himself?” I was a bit flustered, but replied with some confidence: “Professor Thompson, who is a foremost authority on Chaucer, wrote specifically that this passage was drawn from Virgil.” Dr. Feldman said: “I don’t care what Professor Thompson or anyone else thought. You have to demonstrate that in fact Chaucer was drawing on this passage from Virgil. Quoting this professor or that professor does not make something true.”  “But he’s an authority,” I replied. “Don’t rely on authorities,” said Dr. Feldman. “Analyze things for yourself. Citing an authority doesn’t prove your point.”

That was a powerful lesson that has stayed with me over the years. Whereas it is very common in religious life to rely on “authorities,” Dr. Feldman taught us to think for ourselves. Yes, we certainly can and should learn from scholars, but ultimately we need to make evaluations of our own. Because rabbi x or authority y said something does not in itself make something true.

Dr. Feldman had strict rules when it came to submitting our papers. He would deduct one third of a grade for every five typos/misspelled words/grammatical errors. We had to proofread our papers very carefully before handing them in; we knew that he graded strictly. The first paper I ever published was a term paper I wrote for Dr. Feldman comparing five English translations of the Aeneid. Dr. Feldman submitted the paper on my behalf to the Classical Journal…and it was published during my senior year at Yeshiva College.

Aside from his brilliance as a teacher, he was a singular role model. He was not only a world-class scholar of Greek and Latin; he was a Torah scholar who could often be seen in the Beit Midrash well into the night as he studied Talmud. He was serious, but very witty; he had a ubiquitous smile and dry sense of humor. He was strict but not austere. He was demanding but not pedantic.

It is one of the unique joys of life to have studied with great teachers. It is one of the unique qualities of great teachers to expand the intellectual horizons of their students. Dr. Louis H. Feldman was that kind of teacher and that kind of human being.

Rabbi Marc D. Angel replies to questions from The Jewish Press

Is it proper, l’chatchilah, for a young married couple to apply for government welfare programs like food stamps and section 8?

Rambam wrote (Hilkhot De’ot 5:11): “The way of sensible men is for one first to establish an occupation by which he can support himself. Then, he should purchase a residence and then, marry a wife…In contrast, a fool begins by marrying a wife. Then, if he can find the means, he purchases a house. Finally, late in life, he will search for a trade or support himself from charity.”

Rambam assumed that a couple will first be sure that they have the financial wherewithal to manage their married lives. This was—and remains—excellent advice. In situations of genuine poverty, though, it may be necessary for young couples to receive support from family and friends.

If poor couples are genuinely without financial resources and are legally entitled to government assistance, then they may draw on this aid as a last resort.

I have heard of cases, though, where young couples live in a nice home, drive a nice car, dress and eat very nicely…and are supported generously by parents or others. Their personal earnings are below the poverty level, even though they definitely do not live in poverty. The government welfare system was established to assist the genuinely needy; to take these funds on any other basis is fraudulent.  People say: others exploit the system, why shouldn’t we? The answer is given by the Torah: ve’asita hayashar vehatov; the Almighty commands us to do that which is upright and proper. Any other behavior is an affront to the teachings of Torah.

Is it proper for a Jew to propose on one knee?

The practice of a man proposing marriage by bending on one knee seems to be a fairly modern phenomenon. We read of medieval knights who bent onto a knee in reverence to their beloved, and this old practice may have spilled over into more general society. But until relatively modern times, marriage proposals (Jewish and non-Jewish) were more business-like. Shadchanim and parents often arranged the “proposal.”

The image of a man bending on one knee to propose marriage has been a feature of modern romance novels and films. If a couple wants to follow this pattern, that is entirely up to them.

Couples will decide for themselves when and how to commit themselves to marriage. It’s proper for the rest of us to mind our own business, and not worry whether the man bends on one knee or not.

Let brides and grooms rejoice, tirbena semahot beyisrael.

At what age would you advise parents to allow their children to have a cell phone?

I would advise parents to use their own judgment. They know their children best. They know if, why and when a cell phone is important to their children. They know if their children are responsible enough to use the cell phone properly.

Often, the child’s first cell phone is granted because the parents want to have a ready line of communication. They want their children to be able to contact them promptly in case of an emergency.

There are various cell phones available, with various features. Before obtaining a cell phone for their children, parents should choose the age-appropriate phone that meets the specific needs of each child.

From a hashkafic perspective, is it important for a Jewish man to have a beard?

It really depends on one’s own hashkafa. Some men feel that beards are a sign of being more traditionally religious; some grow beards because that’s what is expected of men in their community. Some men feel more comfortable without a beard.  Let each man decide for himself.

Over the years, I have known many fine Jewish men with long beards, short beards and no beards. I have also known many less than fine Jewish men with long beards, short beards and no beards. What is important is not the beard, but the person. A fine Torah true Jew is a wonderful human being, with or without a beard.

My late father-in-law, Rabbi Paul Schuchalter of blessed memory, used to quip that it's better to have a rabbi without a beard than a beard without a rabbi. It would be even better if rabbis were not judged by their beards (or lack thereof) but by their Torah learning, compassion, love of their people, love of humanity. Judge rabbis by their words and deeds, not by their beards. What’s true for rabbis is true for Jewish men in general.

It is important to avoid stereotyping men based on whether they have full, trimmed or no beards.

How does one let go of a grudge against a person who harmed him or her egregiously?

Many years ago, my father—alav hashalom—was involved in a business transaction with a man he had known all his life, both being members of the same synagogue.This man cheated my father egregiously, causing him serious financial loss.

Years later, I received a call from my father. The man who had swindled my father was planning to be in New York for Rosh Hashana. My father asked me to arrange a seat for him in my synagogue and invite him to lunch. I was stunned. I asked my father: “This man cheated you and betrayed you. Why would you want to extend any kindness to him?”

My father replied: “What’s past is past. It’s no good to carry grudges. Life is too short to waste our emotional energy on anger or holding grudges.” And so, I arranged a seat for this man in my synagogue and invited him to lunch. 

My father taught me an important lesson. Carrying grudges is not productive, not healthy, and not necessary. Grudges hurt the “grudger” more than the “grudgee.”

Rambam taught (Hilkhot Teshuva 2:10): “When a sinner asks forgiveness, one should grant it with a full heart and willing soul. Even if the other had sinned greatly against him and caused him much anguish, he should not take revenge or bear a grudge.”

My father taught that one should not bear a grudge…even if the culprit doesn’t ask for forgiveness. I might have thought this was an impossible expectation. But my father proved it could be done…and should be done.

In 1919, Rabbi Benzion Uziel, then a young rabbi, spoke to a conference of rabbis in Jerusalem. He stated: "Israel, the nation of peace, does not want and never will want to be built on the ruins of others....Let all the nations hear our blessing of peace, and let them return to us a hand for true peace, so that they may be blessed with the blessing of peace." In 1939, when Rabbi Uziel became Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, he delivered his inaugural address in Hebrew, and then added words in Arabic. He appealed to the Arab community: "We reach our hands out to you in peace, pure and trustworthy....Make peace with us and we will make peace with you. Together all of us will benefit from the blessing of God on His land; with quiet and peace, with love and fellowship, with goodwill and pure heart we will find the way of peace."

At around the time that the State of Israel was being recognized by the United Nations, the Chief Rabbis of Israel wrote a letter in Arabic to the Arab world. The Sephardic Chief Rabbi Benzion Uziel, who was fluent in Arabic, likely wrote this letter that was signed by him and the Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi Yitzchak Herzog. They wrote:

21 Kislev, 5708
"A Call to the Leaders of Islam for Peace and Brotherhood."

To the Heads of The Islamic Religion in the Land of Israel and throughout
the Arab lands near and far, Shalom U'Vracha:

Brothers, at this hour, as the Jewish people have returned to its land and
state, per the word of God and the prophets in the Holy Scriptures, and in
accordance with the decision of the United Nations, we approach you in peace and brotherhood, in the name of God's Torah and the Holy Scriptures, and we say to you:

Please remember the peaceful and friendly relations that existed between us
when we lived together in Arab lands and under Islamic Rulers during the
Golden Age, when together we developed brilliant intellectual insights of
wisdom and science for all of humanity's benefit. Please remember the sacred words of the prophet Malachi, who said: "Have we not all one Father? Did not one God create us? Why do we break faith with one another, profaning the covenant of our ancestors?" (Malachi 2:10).

We were brothers, and we shall once again be brothers, working together in
cordial and neighborly relations in this Holy Land, so that we will build it
and make it flourish, for the benefit of all of its inhabitants, without
discrimination against anyone. We shall do so in faithful and calm
collaboration, so that we may all merit God's blessing on His land, from
which there shall radiate the light of peace to the entire world.

Signed,
Ben-Zion Meir Hai Uziel
Yitschak Isaac Ha-Levi Herzog

The words of Rabbi Uziel and Rabbi Herzog reflected the wishes of the tiny Jewish community in the land of Israel in those times. Those words still reflect the wishes of the Jewish community of Israel today. Hawks and doves alike would like nothing better than genuine, secure peace. They would like Israeli society to be free and happy, without the specter of warfare and terrorism, without the constant threat and reality of Arab military, economic and political attacks. They would like to live in harmony with their Arab neighbors-and to trust that their Arab neighbors will want to live in harmony with them.

We applaud the United Arab Emirates and the State of Israel for reaching the decision to establish full diplomatic relations. The President of the United States and his representatives played an important role in this historic peace-making process. We pray that other Arab nations will join the "circle of peace," by establishing peaceful, harmonious and productive relations with Israel.

It takes courage and wisdom to work for peace. It takes courage and wisdom to maintain an environment of peace and mutual respect. Israel and the United Arab Emirates have taken a giant step forward. May others follow their example.

America.

That was the dream of so many poor Jews in the

old Ottoman Empire at the beginning of the 20th

century. America was hope, a chance for a better

life, a way out of poverty and squalor, a bastion of

freedom.

America.

Enthusiasm for the new “promised land” spread

from heart to heart. Thousands of hopeful souls

uprooted themselves from the old world and set sail

for the new.

Among them, in 1908, were Bohor Yehuda Angel

and his eldest son Moshe. They left the Island of

Rhodes and made the long, arduous trip to Seattle,

Washington, where a small community of Rhodes

Jews had already settled.

Bohor Yehuda was a sturdy, pious man. He left his

six young children in Rhodes with his wife Bulissa

Esther. He and Moshe planned to work hard, earn

money, and bring the entire family to Seattle as soon

as possible.

Bohor Yehuda opened a shoe-shine stand in

downtown Seattle. Moshe worked at various odd

jobs. They lived simply and with great self-sacrifice.

They regularly sent money to their family in Rhodes

to sustain them until they could save enough to

bring them all to Seattle. It took them three years

of toil and scrimping before they finally raised the

necessary funds.

Bulissa Esther received the news with ineffable joy.

The past three years had been difficult. Separation

from a husband so many thousands of miles away in

a strange land was not easy. Caring for six children

in the absence of their father was a huge challenge.

Although she was blessed with great wisdom and

patience, Bulissa Esther was taxed to the limit of

her abilities. At last, she could now arrange to travel

with her children to America and the family could

once again be united.

Bulissa Esther and her six children set sail in the

summer of 1911. They traveled steerage, but no one

complained. They were on their way to the freedom,

happiness, and the promise of America. They were

on their way to family reunion.

When they arrived in New York harbor, they looked

forward to stepping onto American soil. They would

soon take a train cross-country to Seattle. All would

be well.

As they exited the ship, all passengers were brought

to the immigration office. American officials checked

their names, their places of origin, their ultimate

destinations in the United States. They asked many

questions, although most of the immigrants did not

know English and could not understand what was

being asked of them. Somehow, though, most of

the passengers answered well enough and received

papers admitting them into the United States.

When the turn of Bulissa Esther and her six children

came, she stood before the examining officers with

trembling anticipation. She told the officials that

they were on their way to Seattle to reunite with her

husband and eldest son.

One of the officials, following standard immigration

procedures, checked the family members to

determine if they had any obvious diseases or health

issues that would prohibit their entry into the

United States. Bulissa Esther and five of her children

were deemed to be healthy. Her nine-year-old son,

Joseph, was found to have a scalp disease, tinias.

This was not a serious health problem in itself; but

the immigration official ruled that Joseph could not

be admitted into the country due to his disease.

Bulissa Esther’s heart jumped a beat when she was

made to understand that Joseph could not enter the

United States. She broke down crying. She pleaded

with the officials. He is just a little boy, we will get

medicine for his tinias, please let him in, what am I

to do if you do not admit him? We’ve waited three

years for my husband and son to raise the funds to

bring us here! We can’t go back to Rhodes again!

No, said the official, you don’t have to go back to

Rhodes. You and five of your children can continue

your trip to Seattle. But Joseph can’t be admitted

into the United States.

Please, have mercy on a mother and her children.

Have mercy on a nine year old boy. How can we

separate him from the rest of us? How will he go

back to Rhodes alone? Who will care for him there?

That is not our problem, said the official. Joseph

cannot be admitted. You need to decide what to do

now.

America.

The promised land. A land with laws, but without

mercy. A land that would turn a young boy away,

that would break the hearts of a good, honest family.

Bulissa Esther was beside herself with grief. She

could not bring her family back to Rhodes. But

neither could she abandon little Joseph.

As it happened, a Jewish man from Rhodes, who

had been on the same ship as Bulissa Esther, was also

denied entry into the United States due to a health

problem. He had no choice but to return to Rhodes.

When he heard Bulissa Esther crying, he came over

to her and learned of the problem with Joseph. He

volunteered to bring Joseph back to Rhodes with

him, to settle him in with a family of relatives until

such time as Bohor Yehuda could raise enough

money to pay passage for Joseph to join the family

in Seattle.

Bulissa Esther had no other realistic option. She

thanked the man profusely for agreeing to look

after Joseph. So she kissed her beloved son and said

goodbye. All the brothers and sisters hugged Joseph

and promised that they would see him again soon.

Bulissa Esther and five of her children traveled on

to Seattle, reunited with Bohor Yehuda and Moshe,

and gradually adapted to their new lives in America.

Joseph was brought to the home of relatives in

Rhodes. Bulissa Esther prayed for the day when

Joseph could be brought together with the rest of

the family in Seattle.

That day never came.

Bohor Yehuda could scarcely earn enough to

support his large family in Seattle, let alone to save

money to buy passage for Joseph. Meanwhile, world

events were impacting on life in Rhodes, making

Joseph’s travel to the United States increasingly

unlikely.

War broke out between Italy and Turkey, with

Italian forces occupying the Island of Rhodes in

May 1912. After nearly four centuries of Turkish

dominion, Rhodes was now under Italian control.

Italy was officially granted Rhodes in July 1923 under

the Treaty of Lausanne. The Jews of Rhodes, along

with the other residents of the island, soon began to

speak Italian, to think Italian, to be Italian subjects.

Economic life in Rhodes blossomed. Little Joseph

grew up at a time of growing optimism among the

Jews of Rhodes.

He couldn’t easily travel to America during the

Turco-Italian War years. Then World War I broke

out in July 1914, making travel across the Atlantic

Ocean dangerous if not impossible. By the time the

war ended in November 1918, Joseph was a young

man, already comfortable in his life in Italian-ruled

Rhodes. In due course, he was married to a lovely wife,

Sinyorou; and they went on to have four children—

two boys and two girls. Life was moving along well.

They could see no reason to move to America; and

in any case, American quota laws of 1921 and 1924

dramatically limited the number of immigrants

eligible to enter the United States. Joseph had been

turned away from America once; he had no desire to

face American immigration officials a second time.

But conditions in Rhodes were to change radically.

In June 1936, Italy aligned itself with Nazi Germany.

Jews living in Italian territories—like Jews living in

Germany—became victims of a horrific policy of anti-

Semitism.

The Jews of Rhodes were thunderstruck

by the dramatic undermining of their lives and

their livelihoods. The Rabbinical College of Rhodes

was forced to close. Jews in Rhodes were required

to keep their stores open on the Jewish Sabbath

and festivals. In September 1938, anti-Jewish laws

went into effect in Rhodes that prohibited kosher

slaughter of animals. Jews were no longer allowed

to buy property, employ non-Jewish servants, send

their children to government schools. Non-Jews

were forbidden from patronizing Jewish doctors or

pharmacists. Jews who had settled in Rhodes after

January 1919 were expelled from the Island. (They

were the fortunate ones!)

For a short period in the early 1940s, there was

a slight easing of the anti-Jewish measures. Yet,

conditions were dire. Aside from dealing with their

loss of civil status and human dignity, they had to

deal with the ongoing hardships of living in a war

zone. British planes dropped bombs on Rhodes in

their effort to defeat the Axis powers, and dozens of

Jews were among those killed in these attacks.

When Mussolini was removed from power in July

1943, the Jews of Rhodes thought their troubles

were over. But contrary to their expectations, the

Germans occupied Rhodes. The situation of the

Jews worsened precipitously. In July 1944, the Jews

of Rhodes had all their valuables confiscated by

the Germans. They were then crowded into three

small freight ships. Of the nearly 1,700 Rhodes Jews

deported by the Nazis, only 151 survived. Almost

all the Jews of Rhodes were viciously murdered in

Auschwitz.

Among those who suffered this cruel and inhuman

death were the entire family of Joseph Angel.

Little did the American immigration official realize

in 1911, that by turning away a little boy with a scalp

infection, he was condemning that boy and family

to a calamitous destruction. That official no doubt

slept peacefully the night he sent Joseph back to

Rhodes, separating the young son from his mother

and siblings. The official was following the rules.

If that official was still alive in July 1944, he probably

slept the sleep of the innocent, not realizing that

his actions led to the death of an entire family. His

dreams were not haunted by nightmares of the

ghosts of Joseph’s family.

(The first part of this article is drawn from Marc D. Angel, Voices in Exile, Ktav Publishing House, Hoboken, 1991, pp.152-155.)

            Grace Aguilar (1816–1847) belonged to the Sephardic community of London. Although her life was cut short by an untimely death, she left a remarkable literary legacy. Aside from a number of novels, she also wrote works relating to Jewish religious teachings.

            She was concerned that the wave of modernism was undermining the foundations of traditional religious life. Jews were seeking success in the secular world; the bond of religion was weakening. She was particularly aware of the spiritual turmoil among Jewish youth, and she sought to address their religious questions and to thereby strengthen their faith.

            Aguilar corresponded with Isaac Leeser, spiritual leader of the Spanish and Portuguese Congregation Mikveh Israel in Philadelphia, and he was of much help to her. Indeed, he edited several of her works for publication, including Shema Yisrael: The Spirit of Judaism. This work reflected Aguilar’s deep concern that Jewish youth were not receiving a proper spiritual education in Judaism. She feared that they would be attracted to Christianity, which was popularly portrayed as a religion of the spirit. In contrast, Judaism was described as a religion of numerous detailed observances. Presented as an elaborate commentary on the first paragraph of the Shema (which she transliterated in the Spanish and Portuguese style as Shemang), the book dealt with a wide range of religious topics, emphasizing the profound spirituality inherent in Judaism.

            Grace Aguilar argued that if Jews understood the true power and beauty of their religion, they would proudly assert their Jewishness instead of trying to conceal it. The repetition of the Shema itself is a source of holy comfort. If recited regularly “we shall go forth, no longer striving to conceal our religion through shame (for it can only be such a base emotion prompting us to conceal it in free and happy England); but strengthened, sanctified by its blessed spirit, we shall feel the soul elevated within us” (Shema Yisrael: The Spirit of Judaism, p. 9).

            She stressed the need for Jews to devote themselves to the study of the Bible, the foundation of Judaism. In so doing, she made some pejorative remarks about “tradition,” apparently referring to the traditional stress on fulfilling the details of the law. (Isaac Leeser, in his notes to the book, took her to task on several occasions for her detraction of “tradition.”) (Ibid., pp. 21, 100, 104) However, Aguilar can hardly be accused of being unorthodox and opposed to the observance of mitzvoth.

She consistently called for the faithful observance of the commandments in their details: “Instead then of seeking to find excuses for their non-performance, should we not rather glory in the minutest observance which would stamp us as so peculiarly the Lord’s own, and deem it a glorious privilege to be thus marked out not only in feature and in faith, but in our civil and religious code, as the chosen of God?” (Ibid., pp. 225-226).

            It may be argued that her stress on the Bible and seeming deprecation of “tradition” was her way of trying to appeal to the religious needs of her audience. She perceived her readers as being under the influence of Christian notions of what a religion should be. By asking Jews to read the Bible, she was asking them to do something that was desirable even for Christians, who also venerated the Bible. By emphasizing the spirit of Judaism, she wished to convey to Jews that they had no spiritual need whatsoever to turn to Christianity. But in the process of stressing the Jewish spirit, she found it necessary at times to downplay the details of the laws of Judaism as transmitted by tradition. These details themselves had to be framed within a context of spirituality and not be seen as ends in themselves.

            In The Jewish Faith: Its Spiritual Consolation, Moral Guidance, and Immortal Hope, completed shortly before her death, Aguilar presented her arguments in the form of a series of letters from a knowledgeable Jewish woman to her beloved young friend, an orphan with little Jewish education. She felt that this style of presentation would be more interesting for her readers, especially younger readers whom she hoped to influence.

            In the introduction to the book, she emphasized the need to present sophisticated religious educational materials to young people. Youth were easily influenced by outside sources; unless they had a proper understanding of Judaism, they would be tempted to abandon it. Indeed, the orphan to whom the letters in the book were addressed had been considering the possibility of converting to Christianity, believing that Christianity offered more spirituality than Judaism. The author, of course, forcefully refuted this claim; in the end, the orphan did not convert, but rather became a more devoted Jew.

            Grace Aguilar expressed the conviction that it was necessary to provide Jewish education for girls as well as boys. She lamented the fact that the education of Jewish girls had not been given adequate attention. She described her book as “an humble help in supplying the painful want of Anglo-Jewish literature, to elucidate for our female youth the tenets of their own, and so remove all danger from the perusal of abler and better works by spiritual Christians” (The Jewish Faith, p. 10).

            Arguing that the new knowledge and ideas brought about by the advances in science did not contradict the truth of the divinely revealed Torah, Aguilar wrote: “So simple, so easy appears to me the union of Revelation and all science, that how any mind can reject the one as contradicting the other is as utterly incomprehensible as it is fearful” (Ibid., p. 124). Scoffers who scorned the truth of religion were guilty of arrogance; they did not have a proper understanding of religion. Aguilar was obviously troubled by the increase in skepticism among Jews and by their intellectual surrender to the antireligious proponents of modern science and philosophy.

            Moreover, Jews were not learning the spiritual aspects of Judaism. They were taught laws and customs, but often had no insight into the deeper meanings and ideas of Jewish tradition. She noted that the Spanish and Portuguese Jews tended to stress the external forms of religious ceremony, giving the impression that these forms were the essence of Judaism. While she recognized the reasons for the emphasis on form, she argued for the necessity of emphasizing the spiritual aspects of Jewish teachings. She warned, however, that people should not abandon religious observance, thinking that spirituality was of higher value. On the contrary, the observances gave expression to the spiritual feelings of love of God. She wrote that “every spiritual Hebrew, instead of disregarding the outward ceremonies, will delight in obeying them for the love he bears his God, welcoming them as immediate instructions from Him, even as a child obeys with joy and gladness the slightest bidding of those he loves” (Ibid. p. 221).

            Aguilar was troubled by the phenomenon of Jews who achieved success in general society but in the process moved away from Jewish commitment. “Many, indeed, have lately distinguished themselves in the law, and in the fine arts of the English world; but why will not these gifted spirits do something for Judaism as well as England? There is no need to neglect the interests of the latter, in attending to the need of the former. We want Jewish writers, Jewish books” (Ibid., p. 264). She was convinced that if the most enlightened Jewish minds devoted themselves to presenting Judaism at its best, the non-Jewish world would be duly impressed. Hatred of Jews would diminish as non-Jews came to learn about and respect Judaism and Jews.

Grace Aguilar’s writings reflected major issues of modernism: the education of women, the need for spirituality, the renewed interest in the Bible, the critique of blind obedience to details of the laws without understanding their deeper meanings. They also shed light on the religiosity of her reading audience: relatively unversed in Jewish learning, skeptical about the mitzvoth, susceptible to the spiritual charm of Christianity. (Leeser challenged the latter point, believing that it was very rare for a Jew to convert to Christianity. As he saw the problem, Jews were simply becoming apathetic to their own spiritual heritage.) (Shema Yisrael, pp. viii, 165)

Grace Aguilar’s essential goal was to demonstrate that loyalty to traditional Judaism was not antipathetic to success in the modern world. By studying the classic sources of their religion and maintaining observance of the commandments, Jews would be secure in their own faith and could function more confidently in the general non-Jewish society.

(The following pages are drawn from Ronda Angel Arking, “’A Spirit of Inquiry:’ Grace Aguilar’s Private Spirituality and Progressive Orthodoxy,” Conversations, Issue 3, Winter 2009, pp. 31-41.)
            While not a “feminist” in the modern sense of the word, she was a strong advocate of women’s rights and responsibilities within Jewish life. Indeed, women played a central role in the maintenance and transmission of our traditions. “Free to assert their right as immortal children of the living God, let not the women of Israel be backward in proving that they, too, have a station to uphold, and a “mission” to perform, not alone as daughters, wives, and mothers, but as witnesses of that faith which first raised, cherished, and defended them…. Let us then endeavor to convince the nations of the high privileges we enjoy, in common with our fathers, brothers, and husbands, as the first-born of the Lord” (The Women of Israel, pp. 12–13).

Jewish mothers had an amazing role of instilling Judaism in the hearts of their children. “A mother, whose heart is in her work will find many opportunities, which properly improved, will lead her little charge to God. … A mother’s lips should teach [prayers and Bible] to her child, and not leave the first impressions of religion to be received from a Christian nurse. Were the associations of a mother connected with the act of praying, associations of such long continuance that the child knew not when they were implanted: the piety of maturer years would not be so likely to waver” (Shema Yisrael, p. 225).

Aguilar faced several issues as a traditional Jewish woman. First, she was denied access to rabbinical texts. Although Jews were relatively emancipated in English society, Jewish women were not fully emancipated in traditional Jewish circles. Second, she felt the pressures of Christian missionaries who sought to convert Jews, and saw Jewish girls and women as prime candidates for conversion.  Aguilar wrote, therefore, to help women stand strong against conversionary pressures. For example, in her novel The Vale of Cedars, she presents a heroic main character who chooses to give up the (Christian) love of her life—and ultimately suffers at the hands of Inquisitors—in order to remain true to her Jewish faith.

What Jewish women needed, according to Aguilar, was to be strengthened in their Judaism, and to feel fulfilled intellectually and spiritually. She wrote The Women of Israel as an apologetic text; in it, she “proves” women’s equality in Judaism—stressing that even the ideal Victorian womanhood can be found in Jewish texts. Jewish women, she argues, should not be seduced by missionaries’ arguments that Judaism relegates them to second-class citizens.

The Women of Israel became a very popular book among Jewish and Christian readers. It highlights some of Aguilar’s theological ideas, her social values, and some of the tensions inherent in her enlightened traditionalism. When examining the lives of biblical women, she glorifies the domestic sphere as the arena of true spirituality and communion with God. For example, in retelling the story of the matriarch Sarah, Aguilar envisions a Victorian model of domesticity—who is at the same time equal in God’s eyes to her husband, Abraham: “The beautiful confidence and true affection subsisting between Abram and Sarai, marks unanswerably their equality; that his wife was to Abram friend as well as partner; and yet, that Sarai knew perfectly her own station, and never attempted to push herself forward in unseemly counsel, or use the influence which she so largely possessed for any weak or sinful purpose….There is no pride so dangerous and subtle as spiritual pride….But in Sarai there was none of this… it is not always the most blessed and distinguished woman who attends the most faithfully to her domestic duties, and preserves unharmed and untainted that meekness and integrity which is her greatest charm” (The Women of Israel, p. 49).

To a modern reader, the idea that a meek, domestic wife has attained equality with her husband seems odd. Aguilar is here promoting Victorian ideals of womanhood alongside a Jewish philosophy that holds women equal in status and responsibility to men. Although she believes that women and men necessarily have different “stations,” or prescribed social roles, she emphasizes women’s spiritual equality, or her equality in worth as a human being in the eyes of God.

In her description of Hannah, for example, she lauds Hannah’s ability to privately utter her own prayers: her poetry shows her intellect, as her poem is “a forcible illustration of the intellectual as well as the spiritual piety which characterized the women of Israel, and which in its very existence denies the possibility of degradation applying to women, either individually, socially, or domestically” (Ibid., p. 260). Additionally, Hannah is able to enter the Temple, showing that she has equal access to holy places. Hannah’s private, quiet prayer—the first of its type—is used by rabbis as the model of prayer in general. Aguilar praises Hannah’s prayer for its quiet modesty and its feeling and intellectual composition, thus elevating a woman’s role to the paradigm of all prayers said by Jewish men and women.

Aguilar’s concern is for the private, spiritual nature of Judaism and the individual’s ability to read Jewish texts and draw use these texts to preserve and strengthen one’s identity. For example, in discussing Yokheved, the mother of Moses, Aguilar follows the rabbinic interpretation that Moses was sent to live with his birth mother until he was weaned. In these few years, Yokheved was able to educate her son and create in him an identity that would enable him to become a great leader of the Jewish people. Home, the site of maternal love and education, is glorified as the only place a Jewish woman should desire to reside and lead: “[Mothers of Israel should] follow the example of the mother of Moses, and make their sons the receivers, and in their turn the promulgators, of that holy law which is their glorious inheritance” (Ibid., p. 144).

In the nineteenth century, Jewish women were not taught Talmud; they were exempt from public prayer; and they could not hold positions of authority in the Jewish community. But rather than chase after a “male” type of emancipation, Aguilar raises the “female” spaces of the Jewish woman to a higher plane than that of Jewish men. Private, personal relationships with God are seen throughout the Bible; thus spirituality should be an individual, private affair. But while spirituality is elevated as a private value for women and men, she believes that public societal positions should be left in the male domain; women should remain in that spiritual, private sphere.

            While Aguilar’s thinking was rooted in traditionalism, she recognized the need for a more progressive and inclusive approach. “A new era is dawning for us. Persecution and intolerance have in so many lands ceased to predominate, that Israel may once more breathe in freedom.… The Bible may be perused in freedom… A spirit of inquiry, of patriotism, or earnestness in seeking to know the Lord and obey Him…is springing up” (Ibid.,  pp. 11–12).

Aguilar continually placed the Bible on a pedestal of unquestioned authority. For example, she declared that “the Bible and reason are the only guides to which the child of Israel can look in security….Those observances…for which no reason can be assigned save the ideas of our ancient fathers, cannot be compared in weight and consequence to the piety of the heart” (The Spirit of Judaism, p. 228).

Aguilar argues that “Circumstances demand the modification…of some of these Rabbinical statutes; and could the wise and pious originators have been consulted on the subject, they would have unhesitatingly adopted those measures” (Ibid., p. 31). Rather than reject rabbinic law, Aguilar promotes modification—based on contemporary realities. The process of halakhic decision-making is a fluid, changing structure. By viewing the Oral Law as “divine,” one discredits the whole nature of the halakhic process, which necessarily evolves as new realities crop up. Additionally, Aguilar notes, it is important to understand the backgrounds and biases of those rabbis who wrote the halakha. Looking at halakha as an evolving process, Aguilar demands an honest assessment of the origins and intellectual validity of each law as it is practiced. She thus encourages every Jew to go back to the original source—the Bible—to try to understand the essential spirit of the halakha. As a traditional Jew, she encourages a more rational, Bible and reason-based, evolving Orthodoxy that will be rich in tradition and spirituality for men and women alike.

(On September 12, 2004, a special service was held at Congregation Shearith Israel in New York (founded in 1654)  to mark the Congregation's 350th anniversary. Since Shearith Israel is the first Jewish Congregation in North America, this occasion also marked the 350th anniversary of American Jewry. Rabbi Marc D. Angel delivered a sermon at the 350th anniversary service, reflecting on American Jewish history through the prism of the experience of Congregation Shearith Israel. This is an abridged version of that sermon.)

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights,that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” These words from the American Declaration of Independence reflect the deepest ideals and aspirations of the American people. America is not merely a country, vast and powerful; America is an idea, a vision of life as it could be.

When these words were first proclaimed on July 4, 1776, Congregation Shearith Israel was almost 122 years old. It was a venerable community, with an impressive history--a bastion of Jewish faith and tradition,and an integral part of the American experience.

When the British invaded New York in 1776, a large group of congregants, including our Hazan Rev. Gershom Mendes Seixas,left the city rather than live under British rule. Many joined the Revolutionary army and fought for American independence. Our story in America is not built on historical abstractions, but on generations of Jews who have played their roles in the unfolding of this nation. It is a very personal history, ingrained in our collective memory.

On this 350th anniversary of the American Jewish community,we reflect on the courage and heroic efforts of our forebears who have maintained Judaism as a vibrant and living force in our lives. We express gratitude to America for having given us—and all citizens—the freedom to practice our faith. This very freedom has energized and strengthened America.

Within Congregation Shearith Israel, we have been blessed with men and women who have helped articulate Jewish ideals and American ideals. Their voices have blended in with the voices of fellow Americans of various religions and races,to help shape the dream and reality of America.

The American Declaration of Independence pronounced that all men are created equal. In his famous letter to the Jewish community of Newport, in August 1790, President George Washington hailed the United States for allowing its citizens freedom—not as a favor bestowed by one group on another—but in recognition of the inherent natural rights of all human beings. This country, wrote President Washington, “gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance.”

And yet, if equality and human dignity are at the core of American ideals, the fulfillment of these ideals have required—and still require—sacrifice and devotion. Reality has not always kept up with the ideals. In 1855, Shearith Israel member Uriah Phillips Levy—who rose to the rank of Commodore in the U.S. Navy—was dropped from the Navy’s active duty list. He was convinced that anti-Semitism was at the root of this demotion. He appealed the ruling and demanded justice.He asked: are people “now to learn to their sorrow and dismay that we too have sunk into the mire of religious intolerance and bigotry?... What is my case today, if you yield to this injustice, may tomorrow be that of the Roman Catholic or the Unitarian, the Presbyterian or the Methodist, the Episcopalian or the Baptist. There is but one safeguard: that is to be found in an honest,whole-hearted, inflexible support of the wise, the just, the impartial guarantee of the Constitution.” Levy won his case. He helped the United States remain true to its principles.

Shearith Israel member Moses Judah (1735-1822) believed that all men were created equal—including black men. In 1799, he was elected to the New York Society for Promoting the Manumission of Slaves. During his tenure on the standing committee between 1806 and 1809, about fifty slaves were freed.Through his efforts, many other slaves achieved freedom. He exerted himself to fight injustice, to expand the American ideals of freedom and equality regardless of race or religion.

Another of our members, Maud Nathan, believed that all men were created equal—but so were all women created equal. She was a fiery, internationally renowned suffragette, who worked tirelessly to advance a vision of America that indeed recognized the equality of all its citizens—men and women. As President of the Consumers’ League of New York from 1897-1917, Maud Nathan was a pioneer in social activism, working for the improvement of working conditions of employees in New York’s department stores. Equality and human dignity were the rights of all Americans,rich and poor, men and women.

The Declaration of Independence proclaimed that human beings have unalienable rights, among them are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.These words express the hope and optimism of America. They are a repudiation of the tyranny and oppression that prevailed—and still prevail—in so many lands. America is a land of opportunity, where people can live in freedom. The pursuit of happiness really signifies the pursuit of self-fulfillment, of a meaningful way of life. America’s challenge was—and still is—to create a harmonious society that allows us to fulfill our potentials.

President George Washington declared a day of national Thanksgiving for November 26, 1789. Shearith Israel held a service, at which Hazan Gershom Mendes Seixas called on this congregation “to unite, with cheerfulness and uprightness…to promote that which has a tendency to the public good.” Hazzan Seixas believed that Jews, in being faithful to Jewish tradition, would be constructive and active participants in American society.

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness were not reserved only for those born in America; they are the rights of all human beings everywhere. This notion underlies the idealism of the American dream, calling for a sense of responsibility for all suffering people, whether at home or abroad. American Jews have been particularly sensitive and responsive to this ideal.

On March 8,1847, Hazan Jacques Judah Lyons addressed a gathering at Shearith Israel for the purpose of raising funds for Irish famine relief. The potato crop in Ireland had failed in 1846, resulting in widespread famine. Hazan Lyons well realized that the Jewish community needed charitable dollars for its own internal needs; and yet he insisted that Jews reach out and help the people of Ireland. He said that there was one indestructible and all-powerful link between us and the Irish sufferers: “That link, my brethren,is HUMANITY! Its appeal to the heart surmounts every obstacle. Clime, color, sect are barriers which impede not its progress thither.” In assisting with Irish famine relief, the Jewish community reflected its commitment to the well-being of all suffering human beings.American Jewry grew into—and has continued to be—a great philanthropic community perhaps unmatched in history. Never have so few given so much to so many. In this, we have been true to our Jewish tradition, and true to the spirit of America.

Who articulated the hope and promise of America more eloquently than Emma Lazarus? “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door.” How appropriate it is that her poem is affixed to the great symbol of American freedom, the Statue of Liberty.

Alice Menken, (for many years President of our Sisterhood) did remarkable work to help immigrants, to assist young women who ran into trouble with the law, to promote reform of the American prison system. She wrote: “We must seek a balanced philosophy of life. We must live to make the world worth living in, with new ideals, less suffering, and more joy.”

Americans see ourselves as one nation, indivisible, under God, with liberty and justice for all. Yet, liberty and justice are not automatically attained. They have required—and still require—wisdom, vigilance, and active participation. America prides itself on being a nation of laws, with no one above the law. The American legal tradition has been enriched by the insights and the work of many American Jews.

In one of his essays, Justice Benjamin Nathan Cardozo—a devoted member of Shearith Israel--referred to a Talmudic passage which has been incorporated into our prayer book. It asks that the Almighty let His mercy prevail over strict justice. Justice Cardozo reminded us that the American system relies not only on justice—but on mercy. Mercy entails not merely an understanding of laws, but an understanding of the human predicament, of human nature, of the circumstances prevailing inhuman society. Another of our members,Federal Judge William Herlands, echoed this sentiment when he stated that Justice without Mercy—is just ice!

Our late rabbis Henry Pereira Mendes, David de Sola Pool and Louis C.Gerstein, were singularly devoted to social welfare, to religious education, to the land of Israel. They distinguished themselves for their devotion to Zionism, and played their parts in the remarkable unfolding of the State of Israel. They, along with so many American Jews, have keenly understood how much unites Israel and the United States—two beacons of democracy and idealism in a very troubled world.

During the past 350 years, the American Jewish community has accomplished much and contributed valiantly to all aspects of American life. We have cherished our participation in American life. We have been free to practice our faith and teach our Torah. We have worked with Americans of other faiths and traditions to mold a better,stronger, more idealistic nation.

America today is not just a powerful and vast country. It is also an idea, a compelling idea that has a message for all people in all lands. As American Jews, we are committed to the ideals of freedom and equality, human dignity and security, to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, the pursuit of harmony among ourselves and throughout the world. We have come far as a nation, but very much remains to be done. May God give us the strength and resolve to carry on, to work proudly as Jews to bring the American dream to many more generations of humanity.

The greatness of Rambam—Moses Maimonides—is so overwhelming that no serious student of Jewish law or philosophy can ignore him. From the medieval period to modern times, scholars have confronted the writings of Rambam, often seeking his support for their own positions. It is really an intellectual boon to have Rambam on one’s side!

The Littman Library of Jewish Civilization has recently published a volume, Reinventing Maimonides in Contemporary Jewish Thought. It includes a collection of articles by Drs. James Diamond and Menachem Kellner, dealing with how some modern rabbinic sages interpreted Rambam. While much can be learned from each of the articles, I’d like to focus on the articles by Menachem Kellner on Rabbi Elhanan Wasserman and Rabbi Aharon Kotler. These two 20^th century luminaries cast Rambam into the mold of a Hareidi sage. When they read Rambam, they understood him in a way that Rambam himself would have found problematic.

Dr. Kellner reminds us that Rambam was an Arabic-speaker who engaged in theology, mathematics, logic, physics, and philosophy. Rambam believed that maaseh bereishith was the study of physics, and maaseh merkava was the study of metaphysics. Kellner asks: “Would such a person perceive the Torah essentially differently from someone studying it in Yiddish and for whom maaseh bereshith and maaseh merkavah are tied to the mysteries of kabbalah rather than to physics and metaphysics?” Kellner argues that Rambam and Rabbi Wasserman read “very different Torahs.” 

Rabbi Wasserman (1874-1941), an eminent representative of hareidi Orthodoxy, used Rambam to support his own hareidi views. “Rabbi Wasserman was so sure that he was right and that his view was that of traditional Judaism that he found it inconceivable that Maimonides might not concur with his approach.” He thought Rambam would easily fit into his yeshiva in Baranowicze.

Dr. Kellner demonstrates with admirable precision how Rambam’s clear statements were reinterpreted by Rabbi Wasserman in a manner opposite to their intention. He could not accept that Rambam really thought that maaseh bereishith was natural science; rather, he argued that Rambam was really referring to a deeper, esoteric wisdom not available through human reason.

Kellner notes that Rabbi Wasserman’s image of Maimonides was far removed from the original. “How could Rabbi Wasserman, whose Torah (studied in Yiddish) reflects eight hundred years of misgivings and suspicions about the culture surrounding him, grasp in depth the Torah that Maimonides (apparently) studied in Arabic, reflecting a positive attitude towards a fifteen-centuries-old tradition of Greek wisdom?”

In his chapter on Rabbi Kotler, Kellner argues that “not only does Rabbi Kotler read Maimonides as if the Great Eagle had grown up in east European yeshivas…but he also loads upon Maimonides notions that, ostensibly, he should have known are entirely alien to him.”

For example, Rambam states: “Not only the tribe of Levi, but each and every individual of those who come into the world [kol ba’ei ha’olam] whose spirit moves him and whose knowledge gives him understanding to set himself apart in order to stand before the Lord…such an individual is as consecrated as the Holy of Holies, and his portion and inheritance shall be in the Lord forever and ever more. (Laws of Sabbatical Year and Jubilee, 13:12-13).

This is a striking example of Rambam’s universalistic worldview: all people of all backgrounds have access to God if they suitably devote themselves to the Almighty. Rabbi Kotler, though, reads this passage to refer to Torah sages who devote themselves to the study and observance of halakha. Dr. Kellner notes: “Rabbi Kotler was educated in a Jewish tradition…which accepted as obvious that an essentialist difference prevails between the Jewish people and the nations of the world (obviously in favor of the former.)” Even though Rabbi Kotler surely knew that kol ba’ei ha’olam means everyone—Jewish or not—he could not imagine that Rambam actually thought all people had equal access to the Almighty. Only Jews, and specifically only Torah sages, were able to reach the highest spiritual levels.

Rambam taught (Laws of Torah Study, 3:1):  “One who makes up his mind to study Torah and not work but live on charity, profanes the name of God, brings the Torah into contempt, extinguishes the light of religion, brings evil upon himself and deprives himself of life hereafter….The end of such a person will be that he will rob his fellow creatures.”  It is difficult to find a clearer statement that opposes a “kollel system” where men are encouraged to study Torah all day and live off the charity of the community. Yet, Rabbi Kotler ignores this explicit statement and relies instead on a Talmudic passage that says: “from the day that the Temple was destroyed, the Holy One blessed be He has nothing in His world but the four cubits of halakhah.” Although Rambam himself interprets that Talmudic passage differently, Rabbi Kotler does not choose to veer from his own understanding of the text. It seems that Rabbi Kotler would have Rambam praise the “kollel system” since students (presumably) are devoting themselves day and night to learning halakha…and thereby entering the four cubits which the Almighty has in this world.

Other chapters in this volume deal with Rabbi Naftali Tsevi Yehudah Berlin; Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik; Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook; Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira; Rabbi Aviner and Rabbi Kafih. Interestingly, each of these thinkers reads Rambam differently.  Rambam continues to evoke serious thought. He remains a powerful guide…and a formidable challenge.

Is it proper to let one's children watch movies?

It is proper to let parents decide for themselves if their children should watch movies, as well as  which movies they should or should not view. The variables of the decision are significant: age and maturity of the child; content of the movie; the religious dynamics of the family and extended community. Responsible parents need to evaluate what is best for their children.

Many of our children and grandchildren grow up in relatively sheltered cultural environments. They have limited exposure to people and ideas outside their own circle of family, schools, and synagogues. Victor Hugo noted that “narrow horizons beget stunted ideas.” If we want our children to expand their horizons and to feel a connectedness with humanity at large, the arts—including film—can play a vital role.

Through books, films, and art, children are introduced to various perspectives. They grow as thinking and sensitive human beings. They become aware of the lives and concerns of people outside their immediate experience. They confront ideas, emotions and conflicts that help them cope with the complexities of life.

Parents have a huge responsibility in guiding their children so that they are exposed to the best that is available in our culture. Although many of the popular movies today are problematic from a religious point of view, other movies are powerful, instructive, or just plain entertaining.

Is it proper to watch or enjoy the sport of boxing?

Martial arts include a variety of forms—boxing, wrestling, krav maga, and a host of Eastern techniques. People participate in these activities as a means of building physical strength, developing self-confidence, and learning strategies of self-defense. Many find much value and enjoyment in their experience of martial arts. And that is fine.

When martial arts competitions are conducted under proper supervision, they can be positive experiences for participants and viewers.

A problem arises, though, when these sports go beyond healthy limits. Professional boxing, for example, puts two people in a ring with the express goal of having one of them knock the other one unconscious. This transcends the realm of sport and becomes an expression of violence and blood-lust. While people might enjoy seeing two muscle bound boxers clobber each other, this is a kind of enjoyment fine people will want to pass up.

Et hata’ai ani mazkir: As a teenager I would sometimes watch boxing matches on television. In 1962 I saw a fight in which Benny Kid Paret was brutalized so badly that he was taken to the hospital…where he soon died. I—and all the thousands of viewers—literally saw someone being beaten to death…all legal and in the name of the sport of boxing.  I don’t think I’ve watched a professional boxing match since then. And I wouldn’t recommend watching or enjoying such a “sport”. It leaves a stain on one’s soul.

Should an ordinary Jew endeavor to say Tikkun Chatzos?  If not regularly, perhaps sometimes?

A person should endeavor to say Tikkun Hatsot only if one feels a spiritual need for these midnight prayers. The texts lamenting the destruction of the ancient Temples and the “exile of the Shekhina” may be meaningful to various individuals, especially those influenced by kabbalistic practice.

Many people, though, will not feel the need to say Tikkun Hatsot. Their religious life is full enough without requiring participation in this kabbalistic tradition. For them, waking up to recite midnight lamentations is unnecessary, unfulfilling, and counter-productive. It is better to conduct one’s daily life with the steady consciousness of the presence of Hashem. Instead of excessive crying for what has been lost, it is preferable to pray for and work for a restoration of proper religious life in our society.

When I was a student in Yeshiva, one of my Rabbayim advised us not to stay up all night for the Shavuot learning. We should rather go to sleep at our regular time, wake up refreshed so we could say our prayers with proper kavanah, and then spend quality time studying Torah during the day of Shavuot. Most people who stay up all night have difficulty concentrating on their learning when overly tired; because of excessive tiredness they don’t say the morning prayers properly; and they are exhausted the rest of the day. The losses of the custom of staying up all night can be much greater than the gains.

These arguments could equally apply to Tikkun Hatsot, except for rare individuals with a kabbalistic bent.