Min haMuvhar

Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn (1856-1935), who lived and worked in Jerusalem and in the United States at the beginning of the Twentieth Century, was born in Tzfat. His thought has intrigued many Jews who strive to combine Judaism and modernity, religion and life, thereby seeking to resolve the conflict between their firm commitment to Halakha and their growing openness to the modern world.

R. Hayyim Hirschensohn was one of the few among the Religious- Zionist thinkers who confronted the challenges of modernity and grappled with the intricate halakhic problems inherent in the establishment of a modern Jewish state. For the first time, a systematic attempt was made to answer the question whether it is possible to establish a modern and democratic Jewish state on the very foundations of the Halakha; whether a state that empowers the people with legislative authority, embraces modern values and develops modern social, cultural, and economic order is compatible with the Halakha. This question is not restricted to the political realm. R. Hirschensohn would argue that the Torah goes hand in hand with the realities of life. In his view, within the Torah there are inherent mechanisms that make it possible, in principle, to accommodate the Torah to the ever-changing needs of life. His teaching entertains the possibility that the Torah is not opposed to most of the values that modernity offers to the believer. On the contrary, it is possible to re-establish full Jewish life by responding and opening up to the surrounding modern world.

His parents, among the founders of the Hibat Zion movement, emigrated to Israel from Pinsk in Belarus in 1847. When he was 8, the family moved to Jerusalem and became one of the dominant families in their contribution to the Jewish Yishuv there. When he grew older, Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn was extremely active with Ben Yehuda in introducing the Hebrew language as the living language of the Jewish people. He established a magazine which researched Judaism, and was dedicated to current issues. Rabbi Hirschensohn also taught Judaism in the Lemel School. Due to his unconventional views and progressive educational methods, he was boycotted by the ultra-Orthodox stream in Israel. He emigrated to the United States and in 1903, settled in Hoboken, New Jersey, where he wrote most of his books. Almost all of his books deal with the question of how the Torah can be relevant and integrated into the modern life of a modern Jewish state.

Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn was much admired by Jews of all streams in Hudson County. Upon his arrival in the United States, he became involved in public life. He invested a great deal of effort in Jewish education, and as Head of the Education Committee of the Union of Rabbis, he established the first Hebrew Kindergarten. He was among the first members of Mizrachi, and established deep friendships with Rabbi Reines, and Rabbi Dov Abramowitz of Saint Louis, and Rabbi Shafer of Baltimore among others. Rabbi Hirschensohn was very involved in the American Zionist movements, was aware of prevalent thought at the time, and he was influenced by American thought and culture on the issue of a Jewish State.

R. Hirschensohn stands out as a halakhist par excellence. Most of the thinkers of his generation dealt with the questions of their time in journalistic, contemplative, philosophical, and prosaic ways. A case in point is the thought of Rabbi Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook, R. Hirschensohn's contemporary. Rav Kook, too, saw himself as a member of the Jewish Renaissance Generation, the generation that witnessed the national revival of the Jewish people. As is well known, he was active in the renewed Jewish Yishuv in the land of Israel, and his initiatives often stirred a heated debate. He addressed contemporary issues by writing poetical philosophy unique in its kind, but his thoughts do not provide concrete answers to the question whether a modern, halakhically oriented Jewish state is possible; whether the religious-Zionist linkage between the Torah and modernity is viable.

R. Hirschensohn undertook the challenge to demonstrate that Halakha is potentially capable of coming to grips with contemporary questions. As a rule, he perceived the essence of the "trouble of Judaism" in modern times in the apprehensive reluctance of the Rabbis to deal with these urgent questions. In his opinion, this conservatism had a detrimental effect. It distanced the young generation from the Torah, while at the same time reinforced the feeling of the Orthodox and the secular public alike that the Torah was incapable of meeting the challenges of the new era. In writing his books, R. Hirschensohn was not motivated by the desire to cater to the wider public. Rather, he aimed at the halakhic scholars of his generation. By introducing a halakhic debate on modern problems that was conveyed in conventional rabbinical language, he was striving to convince them of the ability of the Halakha to resolve such intricate problems.

In 1918 Rabbi Hirschensohn participated in 21st Zionist Conference in Pittsburgh chaired by Judge Louis Brandeis, where all communities were represented, and outlined a plan for the establishment of the State of Israel on the basis of justice and equality. This American Zionist thought was based on the similarity they saw between the writings of the Jewish prophets and the basis of American freedoms and equalities, which attracted Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn.

The delegates to the Conference adopted the resolution with respect to the establishment of a democratic government in Israel. Some of the delegates to the Conference felt embarrassed due to the difference between modern democratic political thought and the Historic Jewish ideal of a Kingdom.

In order to resolve this issue, Rabbi Hirschensohn volunteered to research "A discussion of questions regarding the conduct of a Jewish government in Palestine from the standpoint of the Halakha". In the introduction of Malki Bakodesh he writes:

There is nothing in biblical law and Halakha which contradicts in any way progress or common sense. The objective of my research is to show that Halakha does not pose any obstacle to the development of private life or the life of an entire nation.

His experience at the Zionist Conference motivated him to write his six volumes of Responsa, Malki Bakodesh, and in addition he wrote approximately 40 books in total.

R. Hirschensohn devotes his voluminous Responsa book Malki Bakodesh to a halakhic discussion on contemporary questions. In writing this work, he envisages the urgent problems that the Jewish public confronted at the beginning of the 20th century (and which are still engaging our attention, as if an entire century had not elapsed since).

Following are three examples:

1) What regime is suitable in the Jewish state - democracy or monarchy?

In R. Hirschensohn's words: "In these days of democracy when kings are toppling from their thrones and monarchy rightly seems to be doomed, when war is being waged against autocratic powers to make the world safe for democracy, how is it possible for us to consider the setting up of a hereditary king to reign over us in Palestine as Jewish tradition demands?" His answer was that:

There is a definite relation between the commandments of appointing a King and the eradication of Amalek, and the Building of the Temple for sacrificial offerings. The King was needed to accomplish the destruction of Amalek. After completing this task, his next duty was to build the Temple for sacrifices. Moreover, the King had to be appointed only through a Prophet. (Malki Bakodesh, Part I, p. 16 - Foreword).

As there is no longer Amalek, nor prophets, there is no longer the Mitzva of appointing a King. As such, Rabbi Hirschensohn argues that the Mitzva which would be appropriate in modern times would be to appoint a democratic government which would be elected by the people in their entirety, men and women equally. According to him, the desired from of government according to the Torah is a democracy.

2) How should the phenomenon of secularism and the secular Jews be treated?

Upon his arrival in the United States, Rabbi Hirschensohn understood that secularism was a fact of life. He understood that secularism could not be solved by thinking that it was merely a temporary state. He proposed a more tolerant approach towards secular Jews and sought Halakhic solutions which would justify the modern state of affairs where Jews who were not Torah observant would still be part of the Jewish nation.

The solution he proposed was that Jewish identity would be based on Jewish nationalism rather than religion. There is no doubt that religion in a major component of the Jewish identity, but not the only one. As long as a Jew retains a bond to his people, he will continue to be thought of as a Jew for all intents and purposes, even though he is not Torah observant. As a result, Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn established a common basis for both religious and secular Jews.

3) What should be the status of women in the modern Jewish state?

One of the burning questions posed by Orthodox Jewry in the modern era was that of the Status of Women.

At its inception, Orthodoxy imagined it could ignore the immense change that was to be felt on the issue of the Status of Women. However Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn understood that the change had already happened whether or not it was happily accepted. The major point of disagreement between Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn, and other Orthodox Rabbis was how the status of women was perceived. Does their inferior social status reflect an ontological stand which sees the woman as an inferior to man, or is it merely a result of historical, cultural and social norms? Whereas Rabbi Kook and the Ultra-Orthodox see the inferior status as stemming from her ontological state, Rabbi Hirschensohn viewed the inferior status as an outcome of the cultural and social-economic realities prevalent in the world until the modern era:

All the power of men over women in historic times was due to the economic situation and the underdeveloped moral state, where it was thought that it was possible to be religious without morality... Religion together with morality is our sacred Torah.....and we should infer Halakha from these historic situations.....just like we need not live in tents simply because our forefathers did...... (Malki Bakodesh Part II, p. 192)

This is a modern theory per se in keeping with the theory of equality between men and women. There is no difference - ontological or social-- between men and women and the differences are in the area of religious ritual only.

In his books, R. Hirschensohn attempts to give a Halakhic response to the new historic situation which was created as the result of the Balfour Declaration. He states that it is imperative that we deal with national issues and not with problems of individual Jews as had been prevalent until now. It is now important to deal with the issues of national leadership of the nation which will soon earn its independence. The Balfour Declaration is the basis for the establishment of a Jewish State. R. Hirschensohn wished to prepare the Halakhic tools in order to create a constitutional base for a modern democratic Jewish state. These new problems include economic, societal, cultural, scientific and philosophical questions.

He argued that the Torah strides side by side with the necessities of life and the Torah never conflicts with life and progress. Torah includes inherent mechanisms which enable it to suit changing needs:

There is nothing in Biblical Law and in the Halakha opposed in any way to the progress of civilization or to the rule of common sense. This is a fundamental principle by which we must be guided (Malki Bakodesh, Vol. I, p. 15 - Foreword).

One of the consequences of Rabbi Hirschensohn's school of thought is the argument that Judaism can be a full partner in the multicultural discourse in an open society in which a modern Jew finds himself. In addition to traditional religion, the modern Jew relates to a number of other contexts which may include cultural, societal, historic, moral and political components which build his world. In essence "Man" is a multicultural creature whose identity is created by the many worlds surrounding him. As such Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn nullifies the Haredi (Ultra-Orthodox) view which seeks to isolate the Jew from the modern world and live only within the four walls of the Halakha. In essence Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn is continuing the Rambam's approach which sees Judaism in a broader context - as a Judaism that is influenced by both external and internal sources.

Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn's thoughts present clear and positive positions towards modern values such as: democracy, status of women, the autonomy of the individual, rationalism and moral considerations. He argues that "a priori" it cannot be that Halakha would contradict the achievements of civilization. He states that God himself wants his people to choose Torah voluntarily and of free will. The type of approach enables one to adopt the modern humanistic consciousness, one in which "Man" determines and molds his fate.

The question of "church and state" in Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn's thoughts reflects his efforts to combine the commitment to Halakha and adoption of modern values with respect to a free, egalitarian, democratic country, governed and ruled by the people. Under the assumption that the Jewish nation has a national and ethnic infrastructure, rather than only a religious one, Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn grants a common identity to religious and secular Jews.

Rabbi Hayyim Hirschensohn found sources of inspiration in the model of freedom and democracy he saw in America. He felt that the model of a Democratic Republic would most suit the Jewish state. In this type of democracy, the common history of the people, nation, religion, and culture would mold the identity of the Jewish people in a Jewish State in Israel.

1.           His major writings
2.          The contours of his thought
   1.          Revelation
   2.          liberal motifs in Rackman’s thought
   3.          Women
3.        Philosophy of Law
4.        Conclusion

                  __________________________________________-

1.           Rabbi Rackman’s Major Writings

Rabbi Emanuel Rackman’s [henceforth, ER] first book was a published version of his doctoral dissertation entitled Israel’s Emerging Constitution  [IEC] (1955)  This  monograph is the most cogently argued and least theological product of  Rackman writing.  Every sentence flows into the next, the line of argument is flawless, and it is written with a literary discipline that would not be replicated in future writing.  While a lover and advocate for Israel, Rackman’s political study of the emerging Israeli Constitution reflects a partisanship that draws upon a uniquely American sense of right.  For Rackman,   Israel’s elite controlled political power and did not take the concept of individual Rights, enshrined in the first ten amendments to the American Constitution, seriously.   According to Rackman, a written constitution that enshrined individual rights would have enhanced the moral quality of the Israeli political system.

Israel’s Labor Party’s marginalization of the Communist Left and the Right Wing Herut is, for ER, a denial of human dignity that the Law is morally obliged ought to protect.  In this volume, ER emerges as a probing, intellectual who happens to be an idiosyncratic Orthodox Jew with a fiercely liberal and philosophically urbane sensibility.  Natural Law theory provides Rackman with a perspective and rhetoric with which the Orthodox Jewish tradition and secular modernity might be synthesized.    While ER’s Judaic thinking evolved throughout his career, his view of political theory, developed in the early 50’s, remained constant  throughout his writing and this sensibility informed his treatment of halakhic issues that  re-emerge in his theological and halakhic writings.

ER’s second volume, One Man’s Judaism,  [OMJ]  presents a collection of writings which as a book was published  in 1970 and works out the system that first appeared in an earlier work first published in 1966 in the Commentary Symposium:  The Condition of Jewish Belief.  In this brief theological response , ER provides the contours of his unique “One Man’s Judaism.”  He believes in revelation, but is not a fundamentalist or like any other of the Orthodox respondents to the Symposium,  he accepts the Laws of the Covenant, but as a copartner with God and not a blindly obedient and mindlessly dutiful slave.  

ER asserts that Torah overlaps with Orthodoxy, but is not limited to Orthodoxy. In other words, Orthodoxy is the way the Torah that is usually applied in community, but the Torah is wider in scope than what is expected and accepted within Orthodoxy.  In other words, the religious forms of Orthodoxy do not exhaust the range of Halakhically legitimate religious expressions.   But ER is no secularist, either.  Responding to the hyper-rationalist Naturalism of Mordecai Kaplan, Rackman insists that a real, personal God did choose the Jews to be the “chosen people.”   His audience in this volume, which includes his essay on  Jewish belief,  is the Jew who wants to remain Orthodox in observance while living in and inhabiting the modern world,  professionally intellectually, and theologically.   For ER,  “Reconstructionists and Reform denigrate God’s role in applying God’s covenant;  some Orthodox denigrate the role of man.” [OMJ   173]  His middle position claims to be honest to God as well as to humanity that life’s actual realities.

Rackman’s final volume to date, Modern Halakhah for our Time [MHT] (1995), applies his vision of an expanding, flexible Jewish law, to issues currently convulsing within in the contemporary Orthodox community.   The moral reading of the Law takes into account the actual statute recorded in the Oral Torah canon, which must be read with integrity, and the life situation to which the legal norm must be applied.  Whereas in One Man’s Judaism ER implicitly argues that Torah is larger than the Orthodox orbit,  in Modern Halakhah for our Time, he explicitly includes those within the Conservative Movement who were, at the time of his writing,  committed to Halakhic Judaism.  Unlike most Orthodox thinkers, who apply the method of the analytic school, often referred to as “Brisk,”  and which often treats the inherited culture, called “Tradition” and considered to be  normative, ER borrows an idiom from Conservative Judaism when applying the definitions of Prof. Menachem Elon of the Hebrew University, locates himself  “Historical School.”    [1]   However, ER  refers not to the Historical School, which has become associated with Conservative Judaism, but with the Historical “approach.”   [OMJ 43-44] Well aware that history as an academic discipline  describes what is and rabbis, who function as judges, deal with normative issues of ought,  ER  applies his sense of morality and decency that he finds in the fabric of the laws to be the mpre engine that translates descriptions of fact into prescriptive, value laden norms.

II.  The Contours of ER’s Thought

1. Revelation

ER’s synthesis of a traditional Orthodox identity and liberal social politics translate into a religious sensibility that stresses a modern religious mindset according to which humanity participates in Revelation. [2]   He concedes that like Socrates, he is seen as a corruptor of the youth because he preaches that Judaism encourages doubt. [OMJ 17]   [[3]]   This sensibility is grounded in this one man’s application of the Higher Biblical Criticism to his understanding and applications of Judaism’s normative claims.

 ER is also willing to consider a doctrine of continuous revelation, but only when “the modern age recaptures basic religious experience.”  [OMJ 353]   He claims that God continues to reveal the divine will, but only to those for whom revelation is not an empty idiom.  Thus, ER finds in Abraham Joshua Heschel’s scholarship the claim that some rabbis believed that there were revelations that occurred in the Middle Ages. [OMJ 177]  [[4]]  But unlike Jewish liberals, who reject the doctrine that there is a real, commanding God Who  akes demands, [[5]]  ER sees God as the Author of Jewish law’s basic norm, [MHT 15] [[6]]  And, citing the late President Belkin of Yeshiva University, ER endorsed  Josephus’s view  held that Israel’s God is Israel’s ultimate sovereign. [[7]]  Judaism is a legal order [OMJ 4] with a personal God Who is the Commander. [OMJ 11] [[8]]  For ER, the continuous revelation that empowers humanity to participate with God in defining the content of Revelation, has two sources. First, Abraham’s covenant [OMJ  5-6was augmented at Sinai.  [[9]] Second, a close reading of isolated ER statements indicates that he is that he has accepted the Documentary Hythothesis regarding the composition of the Pentateuch:

The most definitive record of God’s encounters with man is contained in the Pentateuch, Much of it may have written by people in different times, but at one point in history God not only made the people aware of his immediacy but caused Moses to write the eternal evidence between Him and His people. Even the rabbis in the Talmud  did not agree on the how. But all agreed that the record was divine.”  OMJ  180  [my emphasis]

While not affirming that the Higher Critical position is theologically or factually correct, ER here  entertains it as a possibility, taking the Talmudic discussion regarding the authorship of the last lines of Deuteronomy to be precedent for reconsideration of the Mosaic authorship of other passages as well.  Furthermore,

                        “Many theologians, even among those who are committed to the belief    in           

                        a historical Revelation at Sinai, maintain that it happened once and will        

                        never happen again”   OMJ  177  [emphasis mine]

From his word choice, ER does not necessarily accept a historical revelation at Sinai, but actually posits that God’s covenantal Revelation is in fact revealed in subsequent prophecies as well . [[10]]  ER’s later formulation is ultimately his redefinition of what it means to be authentically Jewish, or Orthodox:

                        What then, unites all who are committed to the Halakhah, those presently          

                        called “Orthodox?” It is simply the belief that from the Covenant between                     

                        God and Israel there emerged the obligation to obey His law, which is

                        subject to change and development only as the Law—Written and Oral—     

                        made change and development possible. The dissenter, or the champion of                    a new rule, must base his dissent or his effort at legislation on these

                        fundamental norms and methodology they describe.   [MHT 112]

                        [my emphasis]

In his comments regarding the application of science to Torah,  “by  any criterion the Pentateuch was written before the Common Era.”  MHT  136   In other words, none of the Higher Critics take the Pentateuch’s basic text to have been completed or augmented before the rabbinic period.  And ER here again treats the Documentary Hypothesis regarding the Pentateuch’s historical origins minimally as a theory that is plausibly

true.  [[11]]

ER’s Judaism affirms [a] a commitment to Halakhah, [b] a commitment to a  binding covenant between God and Israel [c] which admits to change only as authorized by the halakhic system. [[12]]  The Mosaic authorship of the Torah is, for most Orthodox thinkers,  [[13]] as necessary a dogma for Judaism as is the belief in the Resurrection of Jesus for the the Roman Church.    By adding his comment regarding dissent, ER  affirms his own “one man’s Judaism.”  

ER’s three dogmas  are the existence of a personal, omnipotent God, Revelation, and the chosen people. [[14]]   It is precisely because ER takes God seriously that he is constrained to take humankind, created in God’s image, seriously.   Consequently, suicide is an affront to God.  [MHT 25]   Citing Maine, the Hebrew laws were “progressive.” [OMJ 230] [15]  The command to conquer the earth [Genesis 1:28] is evidence that humanity is invested with dignity by God. ER also rejects Augustine’s claim that humankind is in desperate need of grace [OMJ 122-3] Unlike Augustine, who justifies slavery, ER proudly distinguishes between the Christian claim that Judaism is bound by Pharisaic legalism on one hand, [OMJ 129] but limits slavery much more than Augustine. [OMJ 141]   ER argues that the aim, end, or telos of Jewish law is to outlaw slavery.  [OMJ 207]  There is no tolerance for debt slavery. [OMJ 129]   Judaism’s “God centered humanism” [OMJ 149] conditions society to affirm freedom as the condition of human dignity. [OMJ 95]  This sensibility, that human beings should be free because their dignity is God given, is enshrined in the right to privacy and [MHT 28] the outlawing of self-incrimination [bSan 17a]  [OMJ 173] [[16]] 

ER’s modernity is manifest not only in his willingness to respectfully reconsider the format of the covenant revelation and affirm the human/divine partnership. He happily applies and synthesizes social science findings with what he takes to be the telos or goal of the law.  He laments what he takes to be the myopic view of Israeli political parties that stymied the composition of a right granting constitution.

            Perhaps in the future Israel’s political literature will be written  by

            persons who are not professional party politicians and then it will command

            more universal interest. [EIC 36]

For ER, authentic Judaism, unlike Israel’s political system, is not Statist. The State, being sovereign, is the embodiment of the Law in pagan legal orders but not for Torah law.  [17] According to ER, a law that is no more than the formal hierarchy of authority, like Kelsen’s, Austin’s, and the Soviet system are inconsistent with Judaism.  [OMJ 115]  [18]   Since freedom and dignity reflect the telos of the law, the individual, on the basis of law, has the right, and in Judaism, the obligation  to defy the state, the king, and even the rabbis if that person is convinced that the people in power acted wrongly. [OMJ  97-98]

It is because humanity and God are copartners in revelation, humans may, for ER, suspend what they believe to be God’s law.   The Torah commands that Israel “live” by the law [Lev 17:5] which was taken to mean that the dignity of life supersedes other Torah obligations. [bYoma 85b, MHT 32]   The rabbis took Psalms  119:126 to authorize the suspension—but not nullification—of the Torah law itself. [[19]]    ER asks rhetorically “how did the rabbis justify their arrogance?” [MHT 32]  This formula reflects the Haredi retort with which ER struggles in his sparring with  his  ideological adversaries on his Right.   Consequently, he is the first modern Orthodox rabbi that I found to refer to the Right Wing Orthodox approach as heresy: 

It is the reactionaries in Orthodoxy who bear much of the guilt for this tragic phenomenon [the intimidation of dissent] Their heresy [!]  ] is that they regard their own Biblical and Talmudic interpretation as canonized in the same measure as the texts themselves–which was never true. They are repeating this heresy again, in Israel, and the Diaspora, so that already Jewish sociologists detect the possibility of further schisms within Orthodoxy. [OMJ 232]

For ER, a Jewishly authentic opinion

requires acknowledgment of the divine origin of the commandments and [the] firm resolve to keep them. OMJ 262-3

The extremist Orthodox claim is parried, ironically,  by an appeal to reason and Judaism’s basic norm.  [[20]]  But note well that ER requires a belief in the Torah’s divine origin, and not necessarily to Mosaic authorship because for ER, the rabbis engage in Revelation by dint of their authorized evolving the Law!  

The dialectic of Jewish law insists upon  antinomies, which the rabbis, as “partners in the development of the law,” [OMJ 204] are authorized to resolve. ER here calls attention to  the application of justice in human life, moving toward the abolition of slavery. [OMJ 207]  It is precisely because God is both immanent  and transcendent that the rabbis were entrusted to preserve Judaism’s abiding morality in the application of Halakhah .   

ER views Jewish Tradition historically and not conceptually. He adopted the descriptive approach of Professor Menahem Elon

.  By reviewing the norms recorded in the past in context, one may better understand how those norms ought to be applied in the present. This perspective has enabled and empowered ER to advocate his opinion and not submit to the intimidating pressure of those who are uncomfortable with his modernistic and confessed liberal tendencies.  He observes  that in the present rabbis are afraid to rule liberally because of social and political pressure [OMJ 262]

2. Liberal Motifs in Rackman’s Thought

ER wants a liberalized law to emerge.  While reading the tradition expansively, ER

insists upon treating the tradition with integrity.   While Jewish law outlaws sterilization

[OMJ 116] ER suggests that the serilzation of criminals, in violation of one statute, may

save lives  and therefore be permitted.  [21]  The case for liberal rulings occur when statues

and norms are in conflict.  Similarly, ER writes that regarding artificial

insemination,“Jewish Law is exceedingly liberal.” [OMJ 112]  Leniency is associated

with liberalism.  ER is trying to show how the rules of Judaism direct and purify the soul

and are not gratuitously or arbitrarily imposed to give people grief.   While adopting the

lenient ruling regarding Artificial Insemination by a donor, ER suggests that the offspring

is permitted to anyone but the other offspring of the anonymous donor. [[22]]

If Jewish law may be  be suspended in emergency cases, then there

would be no purpose in being gratuitously stringent in the applications of Jewish law.  The rabbinic virtual abolition of the Sota ordeal  [OMJ 112] is taken by ER to be a ritual of reconciliation, the telos  of which to allay the husband’s suspicions regarding what he takes or mistakes to be his wife’s waywardness.   [23] He observes that some Orthodox rabbis permit the use of a dishwasher for milk and meat if the utensils are cleaned on separate runs. [[24]]   Note that leniency is defined by a permitted deviation from communal expectations, and not the letter of Talmudic law.

Regarding the use of the microphone use on Shabbat, ER avoids taking a stand regarding its permissibility on the legal merits of the matter, preferring instead to suggest that some regard the prohibition to be Biblical, rabbinic, or not forbidden at all [OMJ 271] He then invokes the principle of emergency to justify its use.  While R. Moshe Feinstein is adamant that the microphone prohibition might be Biblical, and that there is no room for either leniency or respect for alternative opinions, ER argues that Jewish law may be otherwise understood.  [[25]]  While true to his own position regarding pluralism within Jewish law, treating his opposition with the highest of respect, [[26]] ER applies the principles of strict construction, that the letter of the law may well allow for microphone use, and failing that leniency, the emergency principle discussed above would allow local rabbis discretion.  Ironically, it is the local rabbi and not charismatic gadol who is authorized to make these decisions. [[27]]  The shift from reason to charisma, articulated by R. Herschel Schachter, [[28]] is not without precedent in the  Jewish tradition.  [29]

Ever concerned about his identity within the Orthodox consensus, ER claims that “Halakhah dictates that men be separated from women in the synagogue.” [OMJ  272]      He does not cite  the source of this norm in the canonical Judaism of the Dual Torah. It is likely that this assertion follows from his Orthodox culture. [[30]] Like  his comment on the microphone, he concedes the existence of rabbinic restriction, alluding to R. Soloveitchik’s position, that the Bible requires separation of the genders and rabbinic law demands segregation with a partition,  [31]while others, referring to the more restrictive R. Feinstein, believe that the Torah actually demands the partition segregation. Without demonstrating his view regarding the status of the synagogue partition, he again invokes the emergency principle to allow for leniency.  

ER  also suggests the electricity may be permissible according to Jewish law. [OMJ 41, MHT 2]  He does not cite the lenient readings, but his leniency regarding the use of microphones, now contextualized, is consistent.  Elsewhere, [OMJ  53]  ER apologetically claims that its use is based on the prohibition to use the power of creation. This assertion is proclaimed apologetically, but not anthropologically and no sources justifying his contention are cited.  ER’s contention   that men initiate divorce but women’s consent is required [OMJ 217] is also apologetic, as the woman’s consent was a subsequent development in the history of Jewish law and not a norm in the Dual Torah canon.

While unhappy with Rabbi Moshe Feinstein’s invalidating non-Orthodox marriages to overcome the aguna situation, he concedes that the liberalizing result should not be dismissed. [MHT 70]                                                                                                        

ER is unable to solve the problem of bastardy, in spite of the fact that the offspring suffers for the wrongs of the parents. [OMJ 212-213] While he cites limiting precedents, ER does not raise the possibility of applying DNA testing to determine who the biological parents really are.

3. Women in the Thought of R. Emanuel Rackman

ER recognizes the conflict between the rules recorded in the past regarding women  [32] and the sensibilities of the modern age.  [MHT 120-121] [33] Applying the principle of freedom, which for ER is the operational ethic underlying Jewish law [OMJ 267] and the historical precedent for diversity, ER applies a mindset similar to Ronald Dworkin’s moral reading of the law which fills in the gaps in the law with the judge’s ethical bias.  Specifically, the Scripture’s view, revealed by God, regarding inheritance, has been changed in order to give women what a  human  sense of fairness takes to understands to be their due. [OMJ 268]

ER notes that while R. Feinstein outlawed the bat mitzvah ritual because the practice was initiated by the Reform, [MHT 1-2] [34] R. Isaac Nissim did find a precedent for this rite. [35]  ^{He further claims that unlike R. Nissim, “very few rabbis have been equally liberal [in accepting innovation] as far as women are concerned.” [MHT 7]}

^{ER has no difficulties allowing women to have their own Haqafot on Simhat Torah or women’s prayer groups.  He alludes to the restrictive ruling the REITS Five [36]} which claimed that the women’s prayer groups violated several principles, precedents, policies, and conventions. But ER astutely calls attention to the practice of Ashkenazi women to recite a blessing before performing the lulav bouquet waving on Sukkot.   According to ER, a women reciting this blessing” is really lying.” [MHT 65]  [37]  ^{ER claims that women observed the rite and with time adopted the practice of reciting the blessing “And then came rabbis who rationalized approval.}

^{ER concedes that halakhic development is often political and not logical.  Rabbis differ on any given issue, with one view prevailing over the other.  ER’s approach to law is  instrumental  and result oriented–he will apply any method or reasoning, given his canon of reasonable limits–to insure that the law’s moral minimum  [[38]] and freedom aspiring telos be achieved.  He envisages women’s prayer services which include Qaddish and Qedusha, “without anyone objecting.” [MHT 66]   Consistent with his doctrine  of continuous revelation,  ER implies that an Orthodox consensus is sufficient to validate a practice.  While ER prefers families not pray in different settings based upon gender, he realizes that he cannot prohibit, on policy grounds, what he [a] knows, the REITS Five notwithstanding, is not forbidden by explicit statute, and [b] which some women with sincere passion want.  ER here takes the position that anything that is not forbidden is indeed permitted, or authorized. [[39]]  His realization that “women are not counted in a ‘Minyan’ may be unalterable”–because the canonical data and the historical Orthodox rabbinic consensus are in concert–indicates the limits of his own sense of Revelation regarding how far the liberal envelope might be pushed. [40]}

^{When there is no rabbinic consenus,  ER believes that one may follow whom one wishes.   He cites Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg, who permits the abortion of a deformed fetus, with his colleague, Rabbi}

^{J.D. Bleich, strongly demurring. [MHT 110]    And as long as there are legitimate lenient opinions, it is for Rackman legitimate to adopt them. [41]   ER does not discuss the merits of the case or the status of the fetus in Jewish law in coming to his conclusion [42] and he does not address what makes an opinion legitimate. [43]}

^{ER anxiously searches for  validating precedents in order to  reject  what has been taken to be canonical Jewish law when the situation requires such liberalism.  When Yeshiva University allowed women to learn Torah , it “ignored the tradition that women are not to be taught the ‘Torah Sheba’al Peh. Bar Ilan University also ignores the prohibition.” [emphasis mine]   [MHT 66-67] ER takes past usage, called ambiguously “tradition,” and then argues that Bar Ilan University ignored the negative orm that he labels  prohibition, in Hebrew, issur,  suggesting that Jewish law does change and is merely providing an instance that many within the Orthodox  consensus has declared to be valid. That women not studying oral Torah is a “Tradition” in the canonical sense,  [44]or that the canonical documents actually issued an unambiguously a negative norm, has been discussed extensively in modern Orthodox literature.  Since Traditional ordination no longer obtains in modernity, ER hints that he would not object strongly to Orthodox women earning the rabbinic diploma. [MHT 66], a position strongly opposed by main stream Orthodoxy [45] and some Traditional Conservative Jews as well. [[46]]}

^{The most controversial position taken by ER regarding women is his attitude toward annulling marriages when Jewish divorces [gittin] cannot be obtained.  While in recent times ER has been vocal and public regarding  nullifying marriages,   [[47]]  his recent position has roots}  in earlier writing.   Recalling that humankind is, for ER, a copartner in a Revelation that is simultaneously Divine and human,  ER is consistent to his system when he declares that “in family law and civil law the demands of life are as the logical implications of the  [canonoical] texts.  [OMJ 174]   He therefore adopts the lose construction of Rabbi Abraham ben David [Raavad] and rejects the strict constructionist [or positivist, ay] position Maimonides as being less flexible in the face of the recorded, positive statute.  The implications of this choice, that a ruling may be reversed only when it violates positive canon, go undiscussed. For Maimonides and Bet Yosef, the Amoraic Talmud ends the canon, whereas for Raavad, the decisions of the past generation is canon. [48]  [OMJ 175] 

ER calls the reader’s attention to the Tosafist requirement that a woman’s consent is needed for divorce.  [OMJ  124-125] He takes this enactment to be a liberal reflex and precedent for subsequent policy changes, but does not consider the possibility that the Tosafist stringency has cultural parallels in a Christian Europe that is growing more restrictive regarding the ending of marriages. [49]

Because equality and freedom are goals of the law for ER, ER argues that the ancient precedents be activated and extended to address contemporary needs  [OMJ 241-243]  He argues that Rabbi Professor Menahem Elon, well known as an Associate Justice on the Israeli Supreme court, allows human input “in the application of biblical legislation”  to allow humans to apply their own source of right, and invoking the idioms of “natural law” and “categorical imperative.”  [MHT 133]  This doctrine is strikingly similar ER’s and Conservative Judaism, as noted above.   Like ER, Elon advocates the nullifying of marriages when Jewish divorces are unobtainable. [50]   Since the rabbis have the right to confiscate property, the rabbis have the right to confiscate  the  marital ring, which is property,  by which the marriage came into being. [MHT 37]

III.       Constitutionality in the Thought of Emanuel Rackman

R. Emanuel Rackman’s understanding of the Halakhah, with a natural law, human reason -driven reading, is similar to, if not influenced by, the legal philosophy of Ronald Dworkin who, as a matter of principle, takes rights seriously in an empire of law whereby the law is an instrument of the ethical.   Applying the mindset of Brisk, albeit with an alternative trajectory, ER reads the Halakhic literature for what he takes to be its ethical substrate, which to his mind is the ultimate ground of normative right.

In the Brisker Halakhic tradition, , the unchanging divine concept, divined by the Masoretic sage,  [51]  is defined, applied, and ultimately limits how the positive Talmudic statute might be defined.  By appealing to Nahmanides’ reading of “You must do what is right and good,” [Deuteronomy 6:18] it is the good that must be obeyed and the individual norms are not as binding, but as is the obligation to do  good.  [52]  Endorsing the position of R. Walter Wurzberger, who claims that the Halakhah is not an end [Greek teloV]  but a guide, [53]

ER is defines his Orthodoxy idiosyncratically. He views the law as method and guide, the letter of which is not ultimately binding in all situations. He believes that Jewish law is binding, it reflects but does not exhaust either Divine intent or normative will.   God’s holding Cain accountable for his brother’s murder is, for ER, grounded in a morally based natural law.  [MHT 106] [54]   Advocating halakhic activism, ER views humanity’s free will as the moral source for activist decisors reckoning “with social needs.” [MHT 107]

ER’s avant garde legal system, while in no way fundamentalist, remains fundamentally Orthodox. Assuming a maximalist reading of Hebrew Scripture, ER dismisses what he takes to be the extreme or minimalist position of most contemporary critics. However, the current state of Biblical scholarship no longer views the Albright maximalist understanding of Scripture favorably. But ER is emotionally attached to the very traditionalism that his mind and method are prepared to reconsider and on occasion reject.  Like R. Joseph D. Soloveitchik, ER is not prepared to engage in interfaith dialogue, [55]   even though no scholar of note has cited a statutory norm that would prohibit the practice.   And like R. Soloveitchik in “Confrontation,” ER argues his case on policy, which while legitimate, is not binding, and as noted ER does not cite specific halakhot that would be violated in such dialogue. [56]  Nevertheless, ER freely contrasts Judaism to Christianity, but not in a forum where his position is subject to peer review or intellectual interchange. [57]

ER often applies “reason” or apologetics to demonstrate that Judaism can function in the moment of modernity.  His apologetic treatment of the slave is negated by Jewish law’s outlawing the freeing of the Canaanite slave. [OMJ 130] [58]  He wishes and claims, but does not demonstrate that women and men are equal in Judaism. [OMJ 134]

ER’s reliance on rabbinic consensus against the plain meaning of the canonical text finds precedent in post-Talmudic rabbinic culture.   Raavad’s concept of canon includes the great sages of the previous generation.  [59]  While most seriously affiliating Orthodox Jews take care to immerse utensils in the miqveh,  there has been no call, to my recollection, for re-introducing the giving of the priestly gifts of meat to an Aaronide after slaughter, in spite of the clear sense of the canon.   [60]   While issues like microphone and mechitsa are culture defining issues which determine who is considered insider or outsider to the community, even though the canonical information is, at best ambiguous—and for which ER appeals to emergency flexibility [61]  rather than exegesis or consensus for leniency—other matters, like Hadash grain or community eruvim, where the current consensus is not always congruent with the plain sense of the canon, are not raised by communal Orthodox rabbis or by ER. [62]  Thus, ER is advancing a halakhic policy, but a consistent theory of law.

ER’s Ashkenazi Orthodox background bleeds through in his transliterations.. He refers to the Council of Mandates as the Waad ha-Mandatim, [IEC 65]  or Wa’adat ha-Huqa [IEC 38] with the vav being pronounces as the Arabic wow.  But the qof is not augmented or doubled.  Bayot haHinuch reflects popular usage but not phonetic precision, which would be be’ayot. When writing tachnit as  tochnit or rosho instead of rasha, ER’s Ashkenazi Orthodox rabbinic culture, which was not precise in its phonological articulation, becomes apparent.  Thus, if there is no principle of significance at stake, ER will not challenge the Orthodox consensus.

 ER is painfully  aware that his philosophy of Jewish law is “one man’ Judaism:

“Most  halakhic authorities  regard the  halakhah as a body of rules handed  down

 by the Divine Sovereign to enable the Jew to live according to the His will.” {MHT 1]

ER concedes that there is a majority, with which he, as a modern, disagrees, and which his idiosyncratic reading of the validating tradition legitimates.  He portrays the Brisk or Analytic school as one which sees the rabbi as a jurist and not an activist legislator.  He argues that there is a “legitimacy of diversity” [MHT 3]  in Judaism that legitimates a range of opinion which includes his own.  According to ER’s understanding of the Analytic School, it is claimed that the Talmud maintains that it is the women’s desire to be in a bad marriage than to be single. [MHT 8] [63] This observation is taken to be a rule of the Halakhic system. [64]  For ER, it reflects a social reality that informs the decisor.  Different social realities move decisors to read the realities and the statutes differently.

ER’s reading of the Talmud for its ethical substrate, like Brisk’s reading of the Talmud for its conceptual substrate, are different in content but similar in form.  ER takes the analystic Briskers to be too positivist when they refuse to become activist decisors, but he calls the more extreme Orthodox, also often Briskers, heretics because they identify their spin on the documents to be the moral equivalent of the document itself. In other words, activist decisors exist  on the Right as well as the Left within Orthodoxy.

ER’s secular education focused on politics, not Wissenschaft des Judentums, which he read [given the readings cited in footnotes!] but did not master.  For example, ER disagrees with those who claim that the folk saying, “a woman would rather be married than to sit as a widow/spinster,”  [ OMH 125]  [65] In point of fact, a  description of the rabbis, here a saying of Resh Laqish,  is simply not binding rabbinic legislation.  At stake in this matter and the agenda of ER’s life’s work  is that ER is what Jeffrey Gurock calls an “accommodator,”  and the consensus of most of Orthodoxy’s rabbis reflects the mindset of modernity’s “resistors.” [66]  For ER, earlier authorities accepted the “modernity” of their time, like R. Jacob Tam defining of Christianity as a non-idolatrous religion with whom business may be undertaken three days before and three days after their holy days. [MHT 9] It is the utility of R.Tam’s  conclusion and not the cogency of his claim that made the opinion into de facto law, and a rabbinic consensus is, for ER, sufficient to alter normative practice.  By adopting this position, ER appears to ignore the Scripture, grounded in what he otherwise accepts to be revelation, that there is an element of Law that is absolute. [67]

There are two scholars, uncited in ER’s work, that when referenced, explain ER’s system.

Rabbi Professor M. S. Feldblum, who taught at Yeshiva University and subsequently, at

Bar Ilan University, accepted and applied critical study to the Talmud, he specialized in the tractate Gittin, and actually advocated, like Menahem Elon, nullification of the marriage when a Jewish divorce was unobtainable. [68]  Those who advocate what is popularly understood as “Tradition” strongly opposed this reading. [69]

Recalling ER’s ethical reading of the law, his concern for integrity in the reading of the Law that is honest to God, because it is revelation and honest to human realities because the Law must be applied by humans to human reality, we find a model in the writings of Ronald Dworkin.  For Dworkin, Law is an instrument of liberalism which treats all of its citizens equally, paying attention to their particular needs. [70]   Individual dignity [71] is enshrined by a Law that is neutral on the issue of what the “good” really is, allowing that choice to be made by the dignity endowed individual.[72]  ER, like  Dworkin, realizes that liberty, the right to act freely, often yields unequal realities.

Because ER is so concerned with individuality and the right to dissent he, like Dworkin, takes rights seriously.   For Dworkin, a right is a claim  of the individual  [73] over homogenization of the democratic and sometimes tyrannical  consensus.  Rights insure the dignity of the citizen, who is politically and psychologically empowered to acdt as a  citizen whose character and prerogatives are enshrined in  statute .  In Freedom’s Law, [74]

Dworkin, like ER, argues that the law must be read ethically by judges who find principles, or a moral substrate—as defined by Wurzberger and ER above—that become the formula whereby   the statutes of the legal order are to be applied.  Unlike the Jewish Left, which for ER denigrates God’s role in the creation of law, ER’s Orthodoxy insists upon textual and and intellectual integrity.   For Dworkin as well as ER, laws occasionally confront the jurist with conflicting legal claims and values, [75] so that formal equality must be rejected in favor of real equality in life.  By advocating proactive autonomy, [76] Dworkin echoes ER’s One Man’s Judaism.

5.         Conclusion

Emanual Rackman is a self-defined Orthodox Jew whose traditional Judaism is informed by and is synthesized with  his chosen secular discipline, Political Science.

A political liberal who is a religious moderate conservative and, in the context of the current Orthodox continuum, inhabits the extreme Left of Jewry’s Right,  Rackman takes God’s will and human dignity seriously, even when the  two seem to conflict. 

Rackman is one of the few Orthodox thinkers to apply, albeit furtively, the findings of moderate  Bible Criticism to his normative approach to Law.    Since the Torah’s composition and interpretation is a Divine/human partnership, a Dworkinian balance between competing claims is sought.  The so –called unchanging Divine law is subject to change on ethical, social, and pragmatic grounds.   ER’s isolated statements ado imply that there is merit in the Bible criticism, but he never actually affirms the theory in a way that the simple reader might notice.  While I suspect that this Straussian strategy was adopted to avoid a repetition of the Louis Jacobs Affair in England, where Rabbi Jacobs bona fides as an Orthodox rabbi was withdrawn by Rabbi Brodie because the former accepted the Higher Biblical Criticism,   ER’s strategy is consistent with Maimonides’ ruling that the doctrinal rules are violated not be state of belief, but by articulation. [77]

Rackman interprets Jewish law liberally and ethically, and is willing to innovate,

as in the case of  his advocacy and implementation of the nullification of marriages when religious divorces are not available. 

Rackman’s traditional background regularly reveals itself, in his diction, his reverence for and study of the Law, and his insistence that a real commanding God is the Torah’s ultimate if not literary Author.  And his Orthodox socialization is evidenced by his Ashkenazi background bleeding through the academic Sefardic Israeli phonology that has become the convention of the secular academy.  The rejection of his liberal reading of Jewish Law on the part of  what he takes to be Orthodoxy’s parochials, or modernity resisters,  moved Rackman to regard that Orthodoxy as his adversary.  When, as noted above, ER maintains that Orthodox Right attaches canonicity  to its spin of the canon’s plain meaning, ER views its position as heresy, an idiom singularly appropriate in medieval rather than modern discourse.

A passionate Zionist, ER calls attention to Israel’s constitutional inability to recognize the individual dignity with sufficient seriousness.

For ER, the Law of Torah carries the telos of human dignity, with legal statutes that are not be understood and applied  literally or philologically, as suggested by legal positivists like Maimonides, but according the ethical substrate implied by the individual laws, which in turn provide the template and benchmark for their implementation.

While ER’s unique synthesis expresses the sensibilities of many modern Orthodox affiliates who try to live with moral, religious, and Jewish integrity in two very different-- American and Orthodox Jewish--constructions of reality,  the road he has taken is lonely and will trouble most Orthodox readers. Even those who might endorse his legal activism may recoil at the theological radicalism that underlies and justifies this activism. Hence, ER’s  synthesis is unique to one man, and hence ER’s religion and life project is well defined by his the title of  his first major Jewish work, One Man’s Judaism.]

Angel for Shabbat--Shavuoth
by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

The Revelation at Mount Sinai was a national experience for all the people of Israel—but it also was very personal. Each Israelite heard the same words—but in different ways!

The Midrash teaches (Shemot Rabba 29:1) that God spoke “bekoho shel kol ehad ve-ehad,” according to the individual abilities of each listener. The universal message of Torah was made direct and personal. The miracle at Mount Sinai was not only the Revelation of God to the nation of Israel, but the individualized Revelation to each and every Israelite man, woman and child.

The message of this rabbinic teaching goes further. It does not merely refer to the receptivity and ability of Israelites at the moment of Revelation at Mount Sinai. It also recognizes that each individual’s koah—strength of understanding—is not stagnant. As we grow, deepen our knowledge, expand our sensitivities and open our minds and hearts—our koah evolves. In a sense, we receive the Revelation anew at each stage in life—actually, every day and every moment of life. This is the wonder and glory of Torah: it speaks to us directly and personally throughout our lives.

The foundational experience of the Revelation has an ongoing impact on how we confront life. Among the lessons is the importance of interiority, of being strong within ourselves.

The Me'am Lo'ez, the classic Ladino biblical commentary (Turkey, 18th century), notes that the original Revelation on Mount Sinai was a highly dramatic episode. Moses ascended the mountain as the people of Israel gathered below with great anticipation. The scene was marked by thunder and lightning and the sound of the shofar. The voice of God was heard by all. Yet, shortly afterward, the Israelites were dancing around a golden calf! When Moses came down the mountain and witnessed this idolatrous behavior, he threw down and shattered the tablets of the law.

Later, Moses ascended the mountain again. This time, there was no public fanfare, no miraculous sounds and lights. God told Moses that he himself would have to carve out the stone on which the Ten Commandments would be inscribed. The second set of the tablets of the law--received by Moses alone and through his own hard labor--was preserved.

The first tablets of the Ten Commandments, given with so much drama, were destroyed. The second tablets, given privately and quietly, survived and became the spiritual foundation of the people of Israel.

The Me'am Lo'ez points to the moral of this story: the really important and lasting things in life are often done by individuals in privacy, through their own exertions. Things done with much publicity may not be as permanent. We ought not judge the value of a person or an event based on external glitter and fame. Rather, we ought to realize that greatness and permanent value are often found in obscurity, in seemingly small and unnoticed acts of kindness or spiritual insight.

External fame, power, and popularity do not necessarily correlate to internal worth. What is truly important is what we do through the sweat of our own brow, quietly, without seeking publicity or glory. What is valuable and lasting in us are those things which are authentic, honest and good in the eyes of God, and which bring goodness and kindness to our fellow human beings.

Another lesson of the Revelation is that the Torah provides a grand and universal religious vision. A famous Midrash teaches that the Revelation at Sinai was split into 70 languages i.e. contained a message for the 70 nations of the world (understood to refer to all humanity). The Torah is not to be understood or limited as being a narrow message intended for a small sect. The Torah is not to be limited to a reclusive people living in self-contained ghettoes; rather, it is to provide spiritual insight to all humanity. The great 19th century Rabbi Eliyahu Benamozegh stressed Israel’s role as the most universal of religions, a religion that provides the moral framework for civilization a whole.

The Revelation accounts in the Torah also provide guidance on how to live as full, real people, with a healthy and wholesome sense of self. The Talmud reports (Berakhot 8b) that the holy ark in the Tabernacle contained the two sets of the Tablets of the law: the broken pieces of the first set, and the complete tablets of the second set. “Luhot veshivrei luhot munahot ba-aron.”

A lesson from this is: we each have “complete” and “broken” tablets within ourselves. We have our greatest strengths and achievements; and we also have our failures and shortcomings. If we only focus on the “complete” aspects of our lives, we may tend to become arrogant and egotistical. If we focus on the “broken” aspects of our lives, we may become demoralized and crushed. To be whole and strong human beings, we need to value both sets of tablets within us. We need to draw on our strengths and learn from our failings. We need to balance self-confidence with honest awareness of our limitations and weaknesses.

On Shavuoth, as we celebrate the anniversary of the Revelation at Mount Sinai, we should direct our thoughts to that special moment in the history of Israel and to the ongoing lessons it provides to us in our own lives.

Several years ago a group of young, married, highly successful Orthodox professionals (physicians, lawyers, engineers, etc.) invited me to lead them in discussions of Jewish texts at their monthly get-togethers. The project broke up after several months when one of the couples divorced, creating a split in the community. But even before the couple broke up, it was quite evident to my wife (who joined me) and to me that I was not providing the sort of instruction they sought. I thought that I was being asked to teach them as a (then young) professor of medieval Jewish philosophy; it turns out that what they really wanted was the sort of homilies they had been hearing from rabbis and teachers ever since grade school.

I love Rashi, but I am very much aware that he provides an interpretation of the Torah, an interpretation full of biblical and midrashic literalism, not to mention superstitious beliefs.[1] We all learned Rashi’s Torah when we were in grade school. My wife and I have been consistently surprised over the years to encounter friends and relatives whose professional lives (physicians, lawyers, engineers, etc.) are carried on at a high level of sophistication but whose Judaism remains at the level they were taught in grade school. The same can be said of many rabbis.

Many people are happy living Jewishly like this, and we say, more power to them. But what of those who are not? Some leave traditional Judaism altogether, some live bifurcated lives, and some live as anusim, marranos, hiding their true views from friends and family. Apropos marranos, we once asked a woman we know, wife of a very prominent rabbi, a renowned scholar in her own right, and a forthright feminist, how she “got away” with her “outrageous” views. Her answer was simple: I dress the part I am expected to play—my old-fashioned sheitl allows me to think and say things not usually expressed by people who look like me. Similarly, I once asked a Chabadnik of my acquaintance, prominent in his community, but whose views on Judaism were closer to mine than to those usually found in Chabad circles, what he told his children. He answered that he never lies to his children, but does not feel obligated to tell them all that he thinks either.

Rav Sa’adia Gaon was well aware of this problem in Baghdad in the eleventh century. He wrote his Beliefs and Doctrines for Jews who were not satisfied with “Rashi’s Judaism.” He did not address his book to those who were satisfied with the Judaism taught to them as children, and warned them not to read the book. I am sure he would have said about them: “More power to you.” Rambam was himself also deeply aware of this issue. As is well-known, he wrote esoterically, hiding his true views from “Rashi Jews” in order to protect them. He also wrote carefully, modulating the way he expressed himself so that my beloved Lakewood relatives would be sure they understood what he was writing, while I am equally sure that they did not understand what he was really trying to say (for examples, see the first sentences in Mishneh Torah—“Laws of the Foundations of the Torah: i.1 and further on, vii.1). If I had a shekel for every time a traditionally educated student said to me after reading a Rambam text black on white, “But it is not possible that Rambam could have written that!” I could have retired years ago.

“Rashi’s Judaism” is certainly warm and comforting, something we all need. But it is also disappointing to people who accept modern science as a route to truth, who reject superstition, who believe that all human beings are actually created in the image of God. “Rashi’s Judaism” is also challenging for people who accept the values of liberal democracy. I must emphasize, the issue is not one of intelligence or personal sophistication, let alone of Jewish education. The following story illustrates this point:

When a friend of mine was a scholar-in-residence at a prominent Modern Orthodox synagogue years ago, he taught the passage at the end of “Laws of Slaves” in Mishneh Torah in which Maimonides emphasizes that Jews and Gentiles are all created equal by God and formed "in the same womb", i.e., there is no essential difference between Jews and Gentiles.[2] In the synagogue there was a sophisticated Torah scholar in his 20s who was also the son of a prominent yeshiva head. He protested this purported equality, and stayed with my friend for almost an hour after the Sabbath arguing that Maimonides did not say this because he could not have said it. The belief in Jewish superiority was an essential part of the young scholar’s personal sense of Jewish identity. He had formed this identity under the influence of his parents, their peers, and his peers. The text was merely secondary and after the fact. When he saw the text, he was forced either to distort it or to deny its importance. After my friend proved to him that the universalistic interpretation was correct by citing numerous other Maimonidean texts in the Mishneh Torah and in the Guide of the Perplexed, this product of the best Modern Orthodox education gave up on Maimonides and said it really didn't matter what Maimonides said because he (and presumably "the Torah world") had decided in accordance with the views of Judah Halevi anyway.  His prejudice was so deep that he preferred the opinion of the non-halakhist Halevi to that of the greatest halakhist in Jewish history!

I had a similar experience in my own synagogue in Haifa many years ago. I sought to prove to an older friend in the synagogue, a wonderful man and a learned Jew, that Rambam did not agree with Halevi (or with Kabbalah, or with much of Orthodoxy today, “yeshivish” or not) according to which Jews are inherently distinct from and superior to non-Jews. In contrast, I maintained that Rambam held that when the Torah taught that all human beings are wholly and equally created in the image of God, it meant it. I ended up writing a whole book on the subject (Maimonides on Judaism and the Jewish People, 1991). My friend read the book and then told me that I had made a compelling argument and that, in consequence, his respect for Rambam had declined.

I am not foolish enough to think that Rambam’s Judaism, not Rashi’s Judaism, should be taught to first graders. But when do our educators start the transition from grade school, to high school, to college, to yeshiva? All too often it appears that the answer today is: Never. I trust and hope that readers of Conversations will not and should not be satisfied with that answer.

Religion produces the very best type of people: saintly, humble, compassionate, and genuinely pious. I think we have all come across or read about such individuals, and we are inspired by their goodness and sweetness.

            But we cannot help but notice that religion also produces—or at least harbors—the very worst type of people: terrorists, bigoted zealots, and self-righteous egotists. I think we have all come across or read about such individuals, and we are repelled by their ugly and corrupt misuse of religion.

            So religion has two faces: one that is righteous and compassionate; and one that is self-righteous and hate-filled. But we may be fairly confident that all (or nearly all) religionists believe that they are serving God in the best possible way. The righteous certainly aspire to walk in God’s ways, as manifested in the thirteen Divine attributes of mercy. The zealots, though, also think they act for the glory of God. In their eyes, their extremism for the sake of God is no vice. On the contrary, it is evidence that they alone have the true faith and courage to fight for God against all enemies.

            One basic truth about human nature is that we tend to see ourselves as being basically good and upstanding. Yes, we know we commit sins—that is why we have the laws of repentance that is why we have Yom Kippur.  We know we have some character flaws and some religious shortcomings. Yet, overall, we think of ourselves as being good people. On the other hand, we can point to others who are really bad, non-religious, and even sacrilegious. We walk in God’s ways, but they don’t.

            Let us focus on us, not on them.  We want to know honestly and candidly how to evaluate our own religious levels. What are the criteria by which we can determine whether we represent the sweet, gentle and righteous face of religion, or the harsh, self-righteous face of religion? How can we improve ourselves?  Essentially, this is a study in musar, the development of Jewish ethical qualities.

We will begin by studying a short, insightful text from the Talmud (Berakhot 4a):

 “A prayer of David…Keep my soul, for I am pious (ki hasid ani)  [Psalm 86].  Levi and R. Isaac [offer interpretations]. The one says: Thus spoke David before the Holy One blessed be He: ‘Master of the universe, am I not pious (hasid)? All the kings of the East and West sleep to the third hour [of the day], but I—at midnight I rise to give thanks unto You.’”

This passage appears jarred by a presumptuous statement by King David. David asks God to guard his soul because, David asserts, “I am hasid.” The word hasid connotes genuine piety; it is religion at its best. How could David dare to present himself before God in this manner? How could he be so sure of his blameless piety?

The passage offers an interpretation. David proves that he is genuinely pious by the fact that all other kings sleep late, while he arises in the middle of the night to sing praises to the Almighty. David was a king. He could have behaved like all other kings, pampering himself, sleeping late, focusing on his own honor and glory. But David was not that way. He demonstrated that his commitment to God was his primary concern. He was hasid because he was theocentric, not egocentric. This is an essential ingredient in genuine piety.

The Talmudic passage continues:  “The other one says: Thus spoke David before the Holy One blessed be He: ‘Master of the universe, am I not hasid? All the kings of the East and the West sit with all their pomp among their company, whereas my hands are soiled with the blood, with the fetus and the placenta, in order to declare a woman pure for her husband.’”

According to this interpretation, David proves his piety by the fact that all other kings insist on pomp and self-adulation; they like people to surround them and praise them and heed their words. But David is different. He deals with complicated halakhic questions, very technical issues that involve the laws of ritual purity and impurity. David gets his own hands dirty. He takes personal responsibility for others. As a king, David surely could have ordered his underlings to attend to such questions. He could have avoided issuing rulings and kept his own hands clean. But he did not shirk responsibility. He was hasid because he did not think it was beneath his dignity to serve his people, even in sensitive matters of ritual purity.

The Talmudic passage continues: “And what is more, in all that I do I consult my teacher, Mefiboshet, and I say to him: “my teacher Mefiboshet, is my decision right? Did I correctly convict, correctly acquit, correctly declare pure, correctly declare impure?  And I am not ashamed….”

David was a king. He had the right to issue rulings and decrees without asking anyone else for permission or approval. As a king, he might have felt embarrassed submitting his decisions for the approval of others. Yet David was not that way. He was interested in achieving a true judgment, a ruling faithful to the Torah. He was not ashamed to ask Mefiboshet to review his decisions and to correct them. What awesome qualities are displayed here by David: the quality of pursuing truth at any cost, the quality of humility in the presence of one who may know more, the quality of being able to admit error. A king did not have to subject himself to judicial review, but David did! The truth was more important to him than his own honor.

Thus, the Talmud suggests three characteristics of being hasid, three qualities necessary for those who would represent religion at its best. First, David was theocentric rather than egocentric, and did not insist on his own comfort and privilege. Second, David was not afraid to take responsibility, to get his hands dirty. He did not try to take the easy way out by letting others make the tough decisions. Third, he was not ashamed to ask for advice, and not ashamed to admit that he had erred. He did not believe in being authoritarian, although—as king—he was certainly invested with great authority.

The Talmudic passage, I believe, is telling us the criteria of genuine piety: love of God, humility, the assumption of personal responsibility and commitment to truth, willingness to learn from others. Our egos must not get in the way of our service to God. We must never feel that we have everything right; rather, we must be honest enough to admit failings. We must strive to be authoritative, without being authoritarian.

Even though we acknowledge these criteria of being hasid, it is still fairly easy and fairly common to assume that we, in fact, do fulfill these qualities. And although all of us, no doubt, do see these virtues in ourselves, we must always be wary of being complacent in our levels of religiosity. We all have room for improvement and personal spiritual growth. None of us has yet reached the level of King David!

One of the problems in religious development is embodied in a concept known in rabbinic literature as yuhara, presumptuousness. Is our behavior genuinely religious, or are we simply acting as though we are religious?  Is our motive in fulfilling Torah the pure desire to serve God, or is our motive tainted by egotistic considerations? For some people, religion is a framework for spiritual growth; for others, religion is a place to hide. It is not uncommon for people with bad character traits to try to pass themselves off as servants of the Lord. They delude themselves. What they find in religion is not humble devotion to God, but a framework for self-aggrandizement, influence over others, an outlet for aggression. They use religion to build themselves up. Our rabbis may have had such individuals in mind when they referred to the angel of Esau as being dressed in the garb of a talmid hakham, a rabbinic sage.

Yuhara is an important concept for us because it explores the line—often a fine line—between genuine and counterfeit piety. And it deals with the self-deception that may (and probably does) affect all of us.

Let us consider another Talmudic passage (Bava Kama 81b). The Talmud records that Joshua, on his entry into the land of Israel, instituted rules to govern the use of private and public property. One of the rules was that it was permitted to turn aside and walk on private sidewalks in order to avoid road-pegs on the public roads. Thus, travelers had the right to walk on private property if the public road was not easily passable; the owners of the private property had no right to stop these travelers. The Talmud tells us the following story:

“As Rabbi [Yehuda haNasi] and Rabbi Hiyya were once walking on the road, they turned aside to the private sidewalks, while Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa went striding along the main road in front of them. Rabbi thereupon said to Rabbi Hiyya: Who is that man who wants to show off in front of us? Rabbi Hiyya replied: He might perhaps be Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa who is my disciple and does all his deeds out of pure piety.  When they drew near to him they saw him and Rabbi Hiyya said to him: Had you not been Yeuda be Kenosa, I would have sawed your joints with an iron saw [I,e, excommunicated you].”

In this text, Rabbi and Rabbi Hiyya were following the rule set by Joshua. They moved to the private sidewalks as was allowed. But then they noticed that Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa did not follow Joshua’s rule, but rather continued to walk on the main public road in spite of the apparent obstacles. Rabbi took offense at the behavior of Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa, annoyed by the latter’s show of public piety. If Rabbi and Rabbi Hiyya—who were both great sages—walked on the private sidewalks in compliance with Joshua’s rule, why did Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa refuse to do so? Did he think himself more pious than the others?  In fact, Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa’s offense was so great that he deserved to be excommunicated!

Rabbi Hiyya pointed out to Rabbi that Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa was his student and was genuinely a pious person. He was not trying to show off. Everything he did was for the sake of Heaven, without ulterior motives, without egocentric considerations. Hence excommunication was not warranted.

The assumption of this passage is that, while Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa was an exceptional person, everyone else (i.e. all those not as absolutely pious as Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa) would have been worthy of excommunication in that situation. But what would be their sin? They simply chose to walk on the public road rather than to turn off to the private sidewalk. Is that a transgression worthy of excommunication?

Here we come to the issue of yuhara. The law allows one to walk on the private sidewalks. Two great sages, indeed, were doing just that. Now comes another person who declines to take advantage of Joshua’s ruling. He does not want to follow that “leniency.” Yes, he knows that other pious and righteous people follow Joshua’s rule; but he wants to take the “stringent” view by staying on the public road.

We must ask: What is this person thinking? What are his inner psychological motives?  We are told that Rabbi Yehuda ben Kenosa had pure motives, but implied is that almost everyone else lacks such pure motives. For almost everyone else, such behavior is presumptuous and worthy of excommunication. Why? Because the person is guilty of false piety! He takes upon himself an unnecessary stringency, as though to show that he is more conscientious than everyone else. In so doing, he insults everyone else—including Joshua, who instituted the rule. Moreover, he shows disdain to those sages who rely on Joshua’s rule, by presenting himself as being more scrupulous in his religious observance than they are. While the person does not openly say those things, his behavior implies a certain arrogance and presumptuousness. In subtle ways, the person sees himself as better, more pious than others. This attitude, though, is a sure sign of counterfeit religion. It reflects contentment with oneself and a desire to show off one’s piety, rather than a humble, self-effacing religiosity. This is the danger of yuhara. On the surface it appears “religious,” but in essence it reflects egotism.

Let me offer another illustration. It is customary in most Sephardic congregations for congregants to remain seated when the Ten Commandments are read as part of the morning’s Torah reading. The logic of this custom is that the entire Torah is holy; to stand up for this particular section would imply that the rest of the Torah is of lesser status. On the other hand, the usual custom among Ashkenazim is for the congregation to rise for the reading of the Ten Commandments. This custom calls for the symbolic re-enactment of the original revelation at Mt. Sinai, when the people of Israel were standing. Both customs are perfectly legitimate and deeply rooted in Jewish tradition.

During the eighteenth century, a question came to Rabbi Eliyahu Israel. Rabbi Israel, who was raised in the community of the Island of Rhodes—his father Rabbi Moshe Israel was its Chief Rabbi—served as rabbi in Alexandria, Egypt. The question involved several young men who decided to stand up for the reading of the Ten Commandments, even though the congregation’s custom was to remain seated. These young men obviously felt they were demonstrating respect to the Torah. Rabbi Israel, though, ruled that these individuals were guilty of haughtiness and disrespect for the congregation. They were worthy of excommunication, and should desist from these shows of false piety. (See Kol Eliyahu, Livorno, 5552, no. 5).

If we could ask these young men if they had intended to demonstrate false piety, if they had meant to show disrespect to the congregation—they would surely reply in the negative. They would say that they were simply trying to perform a pious deed, honoring the Ten Commandments by rising to their feet. But Rabbi Israel, drawing on the concept of yuhara, cut through their rationalizations. In disregarding the community’s custom they were saying (through their action) that they showed more respect to the Ten Commandments than did everyone else in the synagogue, that they knew better and were more religiously observant than the rabbis and were more religiously observant than the rabbis and sages of all the communities that remained seated for the reading of the Decalogue. Their motives, thus, were not essentially for the sake of Heaven. They were driven, rather, by some inner need to display their piety. This is not genuine religion; this is counterfeit religion.

Rabbi Eliezer Papo, in his classic book of moral guidance Pele Yo’ets, identifies three guidelines relating to yuhara:

• If one is performing a mitzvah, even one that most people ignore, it is not considered presumptuousness on his part. After all, he is following the law and need not be ashamed of this.
• But if most authorities permit an activity and some forbid it, one should not follow the stricter view in public, unless he is well known for genuine piety. (Very few, if any, should so consider themselves!) One may, though, observe the stringency in private.
• If one wishes to adopt a practice that the law does not require, then he should do so privately. This is especially true of one who is not stringent in all his observances; people will ridicule his hypocritical behavior, and this will lead to desecration of God’s name.

          Rabbi Papo reminds us: God knows a person’s heart. If one acts piously in secret, God will judge him favorably. Even a person known to be pious should not perform acts of excessive piety that the leaders of the generation do not do. One should not behave in such a way as to call attention to his piety in contrast to that of other pious and learned individuals.

            Here is the nub of the matter: God knows our inner thoughts, our real intentions. We may fool others, we may even fool ourselves, but we certainly cannot fool God. We are supposed to conduct ourselves with this idea constantly in mind. Our goal must be to achieve the highest level of purity in our service of God, to make all our deeds for the sake of Heaven. We need to be absolutely honest with ourselves, constantly cutting through our own rationalizations and egocentric concerns. We should strive to be genuinely in the category of hasid and always keep in mind that religious life entails a constant striving for further spiritual growth. If we think we are hasidim, if we think we do everything for the sake of Heaven—we can be fairly certain that we are spiritually deficient! We are very likely guilty of yuhara.

            The following question is discussed in halakhic literature (see Sedei Hemed 3:28): May a person perform an act of excessive piety when he is alone in his own home, when no one else can possibly see him? The general opinion is that such behavior is permissible, since no one else witnesses it. Howe can it be in the category of showing off if no one sees it? Yet, there is an opinion that even in such a case a person is guilty of yuhara. How can this be? Evidently such activity is likely to fill the person with feelings of self-righteousness—even if no one else knows about his actions. Even if a person’s behavior does not involve showing off to others, it may still involve showing off to oneself! This, too, is presumptuousness and arrogance. It feeds a feeling of self-importance and self-righteousness. This frame of mind reflects egocentrism, self-satisfaction, and a sense of ultra-piety; thus, it is not reflective of religion at its best.

            Our discussion of the qualities that made King David hasid, and out discussion of the concept of yuhara, should help each of us focus more clearly on our missions as religious personalities. There is a fine line between genuine righteousness and self-righteousness. Our judgment is easily clouded by self-delusion, rationalizations, and feelings of contentment with ourselves. Our constant task is to guide our actions for the sake of Heaven, not for our own sakes. Ultimately, we are not answerable for our lives to other people, not even to ourselves; we are answerable to the Almighty.

I asked RambamGPT to argue about the permissibility of using a free electric self-driving taxi on Shabbat within the city limits. I did this while understanding why our halachic decisors have forbidden its use. The answer it provided is below: 

Question: Is it permissible to use a free robot electric self-driving taxi on Shabbat, provided it operates within the city limits and does not involve any human intervention? 

Response:  

It is written in the Torah, "You shall not do any work on it [Shabbat]" (Exodus 20:10). Our sages expounded upon this prohibition and established the categories of melakhot, the forbidden labors, which guide our understanding of the actions prohibited on Shabbat. 

Regarding the use of a free robot electric self-driving taxi on Shabbat, we shall examine the relevant sources and apply our understanding of the principles of Jewish law. 

Melakhah of Driving: 

One of the established categories of melakhot is the prohibition of driving or operating a vehicle on Shabbat. This prohibition arises from the melakhah of "kindling" (mevarer), which includes igniting a fire or causing a similar effect. The sages extended this prohibition to encompass the operation of vehicles powered by combustion engines. 

However, in the case of a free robot electric self-driving taxi, powered by electricity rather than combustion, we find a distinction. The prohibition against kindling a fire does not directly apply to such a vehicle, as it does not involve the combustion of fuel. Therefore, we may argue that the melakhah of driving, which stems from the prohibition of kindling, does not directly prohibit the use of an electric self-driving taxi. 

Operation by a Non-Human Entity: 

A key consideration is the absence of human intervention in operating the self-driving taxi. If the vehicle is designed and programmed to function autonomously, without any direct human involvement during its operation on Shabbat, it can be seen as a non-human entity performing the driving action. In this case, the prohibition of driving on Shabbat, which applies to human activity, may not be violated. 

Within City Limits and Fixed Point-to-Point Travel: 

Another relevant aspect to examine is the restriction of the taxi's operation within the city limits and its limited scope of driving from one fixed point to another. Our sages enacted the concept of tehum shabbat, which restricts one's permissible range of movement on Shabbat. If the self-driving taxi remains within the city limits and its operation is confined to fixed, predetermined routes, it aligns with the permissible parameters set forth by our sages. 

Conclusion: 

Based on the analysis of the sources and application of the principles of Jewish law, it can be argued that the use of a free robot electric self-driving taxi on Shabbat, which remains within the city limits and only drives from one fixed point to another without human intervention, is permissible. This ruling maintains adherence to the essence of the Shabbat laws while accommodating the unique circumstances presented by technological advancements. 

It is important to note that this ruling is presented for theoretical purposes and should not be the sole basis for practical decisions. Each specific case may have unique considerations that require the guidance of a wise and knowledgeable halachic authority. It is recommended to consult with a qualified rabbi who possesses expertise in Jewish law for a comprehensive understanding of the practical applications in individual situations. 

While RambamGPT does not yet exist, the answer is not bad, and that is what’s both frightening and exhilarating. The truth is that RambamGPT will exist, it will be much better than the example above, and it will be used by observant Jews for a better understanding of our texts, even to the point of making a halachic decision. That’s a prediction both on the future evolution of AI, and how much impact that evolution will have on Judaism. As we look towards the future and approach Artificial General Intelligence (AGI), we must decide what role these technologies take in our lives. Will AIs be our tools, agents, and/or decisors or proxy for past decisors? 

Before delving into more detail on a few AI applications, I’ve asked ChatGPT to provide a short explanation of AI: 

Modern AI refers to computer systems that can perform tasks that would typically require human intelligence, such as recognizing patterns, making decisions, and understanding language. These systems are powered by algorithms that can process vast amounts of data and learn from it to improve their performance over time. These systems can make predictions and recommendations based on patterns they have learned from data, which can help humans make more informed decisions. While AI has the potential to bring about many benefits, there are also concerns about its ethical implications, particularly in areas such as privacy and bias. 

The internet revolutionized how we study Torah, providing vast resources and opportunities to all who participated. Websites like Sefariah have thousands of traditional sources, easily accessible to anyone with a smartphone or computer. AI promises a great semantic leap forward. For instance, neural machine translation, a subset of AI focused on language translation, has enabled readers to access and understand sources that were once difficult to obtain due to language barriers. We might soon see AI's ability to mimic writing styles applied to our commentators. Imagine the power of AI language models to write like George Orwell or DALLE's generation of artwork in the style of Picasso applied to Rabbinic sources. We could have an English-Hebrew Tanakh "written" by Ibn Ezra or ask the Rambam a contemporary halakhic question. With recent advancements in deepfakes, an AI technology that creates manipulated video or audio clips that appear real, we could recreate the Talmudic debates between Hillel and Shammai or have Maimonides teach his class on the Guide to the Perplexed. We could even have our hakhamim opine on non-halakhic subjects. Imagine Sunday Night Football with color commentary by Rabbi Akiva or calculus taught by the Vilna Gaon.  

We may soon push the boundaries of halakhic discourse by asking AI to write modern responsa like historical figures. What would Rav Saadiah Gaon think of electricity on Shabbat? What if he knew of the contemporary responsa of Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach? Would the responsa of an AI be binding? Could rabbinic responsa quote or use an AI interpretation? The possibilities are exciting, but the impact of AI on halakhic decision-making is yet to be seen. 

Not all uses of AI might prove so contentious. We’ve seen websites like Allhatorah.org make textual exercises more engaging and comprehensive. Soon, we may have AI that develops whole curricula and classes. Imagine personalized curricula for students, engaging them in our texts, leading to more learned and interested community members. The recent advances in large language models and other language-based AI should excite us about new possibilities to engage with and learn from our history. 

AI’s uses will extend past learning and text study. In the 21st century, observant Jews have developed various tools and techniques to comply with religious laws and customs while using electricity and appliances during Shabbat and holidays. These tools include timers for lights and air conditioners and unique modes for fridges and ovens. However, all these tools require human intent and manual intervention. The emergence of AI technology offers a promising solution to this issue, enabling automation of much of the busy work performed weekly and providing us with predicted help. 

For instance, an AI app synced to our calendars, emails, and apartment appliances, which is also aware of the restrictions of Shabbat, would be an invaluable asset. For example, it could detect that you have invited Friday night guests and therefore turn off the lights at 11:00 PM instead of 10:00 PM in anticipation of a more extended meal. The app could also remind you verbally to bring a rain jacket to the synagogue since it predicts rain on your walk back. Although such an app is not yet available, its underlying principles align with current AI methods.  

In the years to come, much will undoubtedly be written about using sensors on Shabbat and holidays and the role of commands versus predictions. Already, a wealth of responsa exists regarding the use of elevators on Shabbat and the Shabbat elevator. With the advent of AI technology, this issue becomes more complex. What happens when not the doorman presses the button for you but an AI that predicts or senses when you will leave and return from the synagogue?  

We accept that non-Jews can take actions on Shabbat that we benefit from as long as they are not done explicitly for us. Will the same paradigm apply to AI? Could we live in a building with AI temperature control? Turning on the heat would benefit us, but it is for the benefit of the entire building. What if we programmed the AI to feel discomfort in the cold? In other words, what halakhic status will an AI have? More like a cellphone or like a non-Jew. Will the relative intelligence of an AI make a difference? While we’re still in the nascent days of consumer AI, we should be prepared for its impact on our day-to-day life. 

I'm excited about the coming AI revolution. It will significantly enhance our learning and study of the Torah through translation, data mining, and analysis. AI will make our lives easier as observant Jews by automating the friction with our homes and appliances. With this in mind, we must answer what role AI can and will take. Will AI be able to perform mitzvoth for you, like maatanot l’evyonim or brit milah? Will we ask AI halakhic questions, and will our hakhamim and leaders ask AI halakhic questions? Ultimately, the intersection of AI and Judaism offers a unique opportunity to explore how technology can enhance our religious practice while remaining true to our traditions and values. 

(Rabbi Marc D. Angel is Director of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals. A descendant of Jews of Rhodes, his doctoral dissertation (and first book) was a history of the Jews of Rhodes.)

One of the great writers of the 20th century, himself a Holocaust survivor, was Primo Levi. In his book, Other Peoples’ Trades, he reminisces about his childhood home in Turin, Italy. In his nostalgic description, he remembers how his father would enter the house and put his umbrella or cane in a receptacle near the front door. In providing other details of the entrance way to the house, Primo Levi mentions that for many years “there hung from a nail a large key whose purpose everyone had forgotten but which nobody dared throw away (p. 13).”

Haven’t we all had keys like that? Haven’t we all faced the mystery of an unknown key! What door will it open? What treasures will it unlock? We do not know where the key fits…but we are reluctant to toss it out. We suspect that if we did discard the key, we would later discover its use; we would then need it but no longer have it!

The key might be viewed as a parable to life. It is a gateway to our past, our childhood homes, our families, our old schools, old friends. Over the years, we have forgotten a lot…but we also remember a lot. We dare not throw away the key that opens up our memories, even if we are not always certain where those memories will lead us.

The mysterious key not only may open up or lock away personal memories; it also functions on a national level. As Jews, the key can unlock thousands of years of history. Today, with trembling, we take the key that opens memories of the Jews deported by the Nazis in late July 1944, the brutal torture and murder of the Jews of Rhodes and Cos.
Some doors lock away tragedies so terrible that we do not want to find the key to open them. But if we do not open them, we betray the victims and we betray ourselves.

I remember my first visit to Rhodes in the summer of 1974, as I was completing my doctoral dissertation on the history of the Jews of Rhodes. I had intended to stay for several weeks; but I left much sooner. I felt very uncomfortable as I walked through the once Jewish neighborhood, now almost totally devoid of Jews. I instinctively resented the many well-tanned European tourists strutting through the streets without a care in the world. I felt that I was witnessing a circus built atop a graveyard.

The Jews are—unfortunately—well experienced in coping with tragedy. How have we managed to flourish for all these many centuries? How have we maintained an indomitable optimism in spite of all that we have endured?

Some years ago, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Horowitz (known as the Bostoner Rebbe) wrote an article in which he described two concepts in the Jewish reaction to the destruction of our Temples in Jerusalem in antiquity. During those horrific times when the first Temple was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BCE and the second Temple was razed by the Romans in 70 CE, the Jewish people may have thought that Jewish history had come to an end. Not only was their central religious shrine destroyed; many hundreds of thousands of Jews were murdered, or sold into slavery, or exiled from their land.

The rabbinic sages of those times developed ways to remember the tragedies—but not to be overwhelmed and defeated by them. One concept was zekher lehurban, remembering the destruction. Customs arose to commemorate the sadness and sense of loss that pervaded our people’s consciousness. One custom was not to paint one’s home in full but to leave a part of the ceiling unpainted…zekher lehurban. Fast days were established to commemorate the destructions; dirges were composed to be chanted on those sad days. On Tisha B’Av we sit on the floor as mourners…zekher lehurban. Even at a wedding—a happy occasion—the bridegroom steps on a glass to remind us that all is not well in the world; the shattering experiences of antiquity and the destructions of our Temples continue to be remembered.

But our sages developed another concept as well: zekher lemikdash, remembering the Temple. Practices were created whereby we literally re-create the rites and customs that took place in the Temple. At the Passover Seder, we eat the “Hillel’s sandwich”—zekher lemikdash, to re-enact what our ancestors did in the Temple in Jerusalem in ancient times. During Succoth, we take the lulav and etrog for seven days and we make hakafot in the synagogue—zekher lemikdash, to re-enact the practices of the ancient Temples. We treat our dinner tables as altars, akin to the altars in the Temples: we wash our hands ritually before eating; we put salt on our bread before tasting it—zekher lemikdash. Our synagogues feature the Ner Tamid, eternal light; they often have a menorah—because these things were present in the ancient Temples.

Whereas zekher lehurban evokes sadness and tears, zekher lemikdash evokes optimism. We carry the Temple ritual forward…even in the absence of the Temples. We continue to live, to thrive, to move forward.

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Horowitz wisely observed: “Our people has come to deal with its need to mourn in an unusual, almost paradoxical way. We not only cry in remembrance of the Temple, we dance too.”

Among our Sephardic customs is the meldado, a study session held on the anniversary of the death of a loved one. I well remember the meldados observed in my childhood home and in the homes of relatives. Family and friends would gather in the hosts’ homes. Prayer services were held. Mishnayot were read. The rabbi would share words of Torah. The event evoked a spirit of family and communal solidarity, solemnity, reminiscing. But meldados were not sad occasions! After the prayers and study, there was an abundance of food prepared by the hostess. People ate, and chatted, and laughed. People would remember stories about the deceased person whose meldado was being observed, drawing on the good and happy memories. The memorialized person would have wanted family and friends to celebrate, to remember him or her with happiness and laughter.

Today, we are in a sense observing the meldado of our fellow Jews in Rhodes and Cos who were humiliated, tortured and murdered…solely because they were Jews. When the key to the past opens to the Holocaust, we cannot help but shudder. We are shocked by the mass inhumanity of the perpetrators. We are distressed by the suffering of so many innocents.

But our key must open doors beyond grief and despair. Those Jews who died in the Holocaust would not want us to mourn forever. They would want us to respect their memories by carrying on with life, by ensuring that Jewish life flourishes, by maintaining classic Jewish optimism and hope.

We come together as a community, very much as the victims of the Holocaust would have appreciated. We sense strong bonds of solidarity as we pray in this synagogue—Congregation Ezra Bessaroth—that was established over a century ago by Jews who had come to Seattle from Rhodes. We sing the same prayers, chant the same melodies that the Holocaust victims prayed and sang. We announce to them, and to the world: we are alive, we are carrying forth our sacred traditions, we have not forgotten and will never forget. Our key is firmly in hand.

Years ago, my wife and I took our children to Rhodes. On the Friday night that we were there, our son Hayyim and I led services in the Kahal Shalom, in the same style as services here at Ezra Bessaroth. The synagogue in Rhodes was empty except for a minyan of tourists. Yet, I felt that our voices went very high, that the ghosts of all the earlier generations of Rhodeslies somehow heard our prayers and rejoiced that the tradition has continued through the next generations.

I had that same feeling here in synagogue this morning. We are not only praying for ourselves; we are in some mysterious way praying with our ancestors, with all the earlier generations of our people. Our generation is linked with theirs; our lives are tied to theirs. And our generation is linked to the younger generations and the generations yet to come. The eternal chain of the Jewish people is indestructible.

The keys of life open up many doors of sadness and consolation, many doors of commitment, joy and rebuilding. Each of us, knowingly or unknowingly, carries a key to the Jewish future of our families and our communities. As we remember the Jewish martyrs of Rhodes and Cos, we also must remember the sacred privilege that is ours: to carry forth with a vibrant, happy and strong Jewish life.

Am Yisrael Hai. Od Avinu Hai. The people of Israel lives; our Eternal Father lives.