National Scholar Updates

Observations of an Observant Ophthalmologist

 

In 1969, a very precise and intelligent law student approached me in a rather confused state of mind. He had just studied the proofs for the existence of God as presented by Maimonides in the Guide for the Perplexed. These proofs were disappointing to him, as they said little to his practical twentieth-century Western mind. Did I read them, he asked. Yes, I answered, but they also said little that resonated with my way of thinking. At least all but one (the proof from design) lacked the punch that one expects from such “proofs.”

 

Both of us were young and saw ourselves as scientific, accepting only what was clearly proven to us. My confession allowed him to ask, rather sheepishly, that if I found the proofs generally so meaningless, why was I an observant and practicing Jew.

 

My answer surprised even me: ”I believe because I just completed as part of my ophthalmology residency training a full time six-month course in the anatomy, physiology and pathology of the eye”. He eyed me at first with a skeptical tilt, but I explained.

 

The eye is one of the most beautiful creations that I know. It is a wonder and a marvel, dwarfing even our most sophisticated human inventions. You would probably agree with the above, but with the in-depth study that I had just completed, I found that this sensory organ was indeed most awe-inspiring. I saw that every part of its anatomy and function were nothing short of astounding—and this even though we know but few of its inner secrets.

 

Basics: the eye is a one-inch sphere that is bombarded with electromagnetic light rays from a radiant object. The cornea and lens focus the image, which is then projected on the retina where it is converted into an electrical signal and this electrical wave is transmitted a few inches to the occiput, the rear of the brain. We then “see” an object in all its beauty, with the color, perspective, depth, relationship to other sights and a lot more. Other parts of a brain then incorporate this into our past memories and give this electromagnetic signal a full world of relationships.

 

Sounds easy! Well it is not.

 

Every step in the process, and there are many steps, screams loudly of the work of a Creator. Please follow closely as we explore just a small sample of some of the wonders of the eye and see how they attest to the glory of the Almighty Creator.

 

First, the external anatomy: the eye is protected on five sides by a bony pocket in the skull. These bones are in turn surrounded in many areas by air-filled sinus cavities. Further, the eye sits in a cushioning bed of soft fat, a shock absorber. A bony protruding front rim protects the front of the eye from large projectiles.

 

The front surface of the eye is indeed exposed, but the complicated eyelid protects it. You take this lid for granted. Do not, for even small lid problems can cause major ocular problems. The lid has multiple muscles and tendons as well as a full moistening and draining lacrimal system. In the lids are several types of glands that secrete the many components of the tears. Brushes on the lids, the lashes, function to avoid excess light and foreign bodies. The tear drainage systems with its glands, drainage, nerves, arteries, even the chemistry of the tears are all a shocking wonder.

 

In addition, the tears are not just a layer of water. Several sets of glands produce a highly complex thin layer. In this later are found antibodies and electrolytes. One can indeed spend a lifetime just studying the chemistry of the tears.

Do not think that the tears afford just an added bit of comfort. Not at all. Very many people are actually blinded by tear deficiencies.

 

And I can go on and on. The eye muscles, the miracle of the cornea, the very complex fluids inside the eye, the amazing lens, the miraculous retina, optic nerve and the visual components of the brain. The six muscles around each eye that are in constant coordination with each other. The biochemical, immunologic, and regenerating systems, the color and depth perception abilities, dark adaptation and so very much more. The sub-cellular components, the enzymes, proteins and nucleic acids, the electrical systems and the anti-microbial systems.

 

Each of these components has been researched ad infinitim. Book after book is available on every micro component of the eye. Moreover, every day I read of a new discovery, a new enzyme, new cellular components, and new genetic controls.

 

Ma rabu maasekha Hashem. How awesome are your creations, God.

 

There are those who peer into deepest space to see the glories of creation. But I find that we do not need a Hubbell Telescope to see God’s creation, rather, a microscope will do just fine. There is a whole world in each of us that can serve as witness to Creation. Lo Bashamayim Hi, it is not in heaven.

 

But wait, what silliness is this? How many science teachers have we had who did everything that they could, either openly or by innuendo, to convince us that religion, or more specifically, that the whole God concept is primitive nonsense? How many times have we read that the concept of Intelligent Design is just plain wrong, that the theory of evolution can prove it all, and I mean all of it. How many of us get cold sweats when we read a Times article “proving” that our most basic religious concepts are silly? How many high school and college students fall into obsessive doubt, even depression, when they study evolution and learn that the Torah is wrong in describing Creation, that the whole thing is but a myth?

 

Yes, the study of evolution, both macro and micro, anatomic and physiologic, cellular and sub cellular can argue quite convincingly that it all just came about by itself. No God, no Creator, all just spontaneous development over fourteen billion years.

 

Nevertheless, the message that I am conveying is that if one looks through the microscope, studies and observes, one becomes overwhelmed and convinced that the Proof from Design is indeed correct. There was a Creator. Many scholarly books have been written, some by evolutionary scientists, that stress that science “proves” that there is a God. We should not be on the defensive. Science is really the clergyman’s best ally.

 

However, you complain, “science is just not Jewish.” After all, we know all about dinosaurs and evolution, a non-geocentric universe, and concept after concept that disagrees with our talmudic and rabbinic literature.

I say,“NO.” Science is not religious or irreligious, not Jewish, not Buddhist, no. Science describes. And from careful observation, it allows for accurate prediction. It can measure the speed of an electron, what effect penicillin has on a bacterium, or how my anatomy compares to that of a monkey. But as far as the why of nature, science has no way of knowing if God guided the evolution and development of the universe over the billions of years, or if human’s evolution was spontaneous, by random chance. It is for you and me to look at the world, to study in depth both the astronomical universe and the sub-microscopic particle and after unprejudiced thought to decide if we think that this all just came about. And for me, with the bits of knowledge that I have, particularly from my ophthalmic studies, the answer is heavily on the side of a planned and guided Creation.

 

In traditional Jewish circles one often hears adherents complaining that many of our modern findings contradict the science of the Torah, of the Talmud, and of the rabbis of the past, some of them who were outstanding scientists in their times. But I say that if you believe these sages who had no microscopes and no telescopes, no spectrophotometers and no cyclotrons, if you believe that if they were here today and had our knowledge, that they would still accept that the sun circles the earth, and that the world is less than 6,000 years old, then you insult these intellectuals to the core. No, I think that if Hazal were here today they would rejoice over our new knowledge of the Almighty’s handiwork. They would of course correct what they wrote in error about Nature.

 

Maimonides writes: “And what is the way that one comes to love and to be in awe of Him? At the time that the individual studies His amazing creations and His large creatures he will at once apprehend from them His wisdom, which is unappraisable and endless—immediately he loves and extols and praises and craves a great craving to know the great Almighty (MT HYT 2:2).

 

Imagine if our sages of old, if Maimonides, the talmudic rabbis, even the rabbis of the last century, could experience our world today. How very appreciative they would be of today’s scientific discoveries. They would write and modify their philosophies utilizing our new knowledge.

 

As we know, national prophecy ceased before the second Temple was destroyed. But I wonder if it really did; I wonder if the exponential growth of the knowledge of nature that has come about in the past decades is not in fact a new form of prophecy. Are these recent discoveries of the last years really God’s prophesying to us an additional canon, a canon of His blueprints, a canon that aids us to more love and revere Him?

 

Go to an operating room, witness an ophthalmic surgery; you would be stunned to see what man hath wrought. Instruments, chemicals, computers—all were unknown but a few years ago yet today are our basic surgical tools. To me these are not just human discoveries and inventions; to me these speak of the presence of God in an ascending spiral toward His showing us His being, if not essence.

 

We can now do angiograms of the eye’s finest vessels, and we can open the eye and correct these vessels. We can use a concentrated light beam, a laser to repair retinal problems without opening the eye. We can even thread a catheter in from an artery in the groin and guide it into the finest brain vessels and when in the desired vessel, we can cause a clot or we can expand the vessel—all without ever opening the skull. Indeed a few years ago, I was involved in such a case and I must say that I never felt God’s presence as I did during the course of that patient’s cure.

 

Yes, humans have done wonders, but it is Almighty God that has guided them, given them the abilities and aided them in seeing the presence of the Creator.

 

Open up the books of science if you really want to see Ma’aseh Bereshith.

Three Short Essays on Modern Sephardic Posekim

 

Sephardic Rabbinic Approaches to Zionism

 

Rav Baruch Gigi, the Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etzion (Israel’s largest Yeshivat Hesder), served as scholar-in-residence at Congregation Shaarei Orah, the Sephardic Congregation of Teaneck, on Shabbat Parashat Vayikra 5778. One of Rav Gigi’s outstanding presentations was a fascinating lecture on the topic of Sephardic Rabbinic approaches to Zionism.

 

The Anti-Zionism of the Satmar Rav

 

Rav Gigi began by presenting the anti-Zionist approach of the Satmar Rav. This approach is rooted in the Gemara (Ketuvot 111a), which states that God imposed an oath upon us that we would not take Eretz Yisrael by force (“shelo ya’alu Yisrael b’ḥoma”).

Rav Meir Simḥa of Dvinsk (the author of the Meshekh Ḥokhma and the Ohr Same’aḥ) reacted to the League of Nations’ ratification of the Balfour Declaration, which granted the Jews a national home in Eretz Yisrael, with three words: “Sar paḥad haShevuathe concern for the oath not to take Eretz Yisrael by force no longer applies, since permission was granted by the international community. The Avnei Nezer (Teshuvot, Yoreh De’ah 456) agreed with this assessment.[1]

In contrast, the Satmar Rav insisted that the oath remained in effect even when permission for Jews to reside in, and eventually govern, part of the land was granted by the League of Nations and the United Nations. The Satmar Rav regarded the political pressure placed on the League of Nations and United Nations delegates by Zionist leaders as constituting returning to Eretz Yisrael by force.

This represents a fundamental opposition to Zionism, not simply a feeling of unease with cooperating with non-observant Jews. Rav Gigi argues that such fundamental opposition to Zionism is virtually non-existent among leading Sephardic rabbis.

 

Rav Yehuda Alkalai

 

Rav Yehuda Alkalai (1798–1878), a great Sephardic Rav from Serbia, is counted among the founders of modern Zionism. His work espousing large-scale Jewish settlement in Eretz Yisrael, Minḥat Yehuda, predated Theodore Herzl. Moreover, in his Goral LaHashem, Rav Alkalai presented a detailed plan for the reestablishment of the Jewish State in Eretz Yisrael, which is said to have greatly influenced Herzl’s extremely influential work, The Jewish State.

Rav Alkalai argues that natural redemption precedes the supernatural redemption. He refers to this as the Mashiaḥ ben Yosef preceding the Mashiaḥ ben David. A central idea of Rav Alkalai (that appears in Minḥat Yehuda) elaborates on the statement of Rav Eliezer (Sanhedrin 97b, codified by the Rambam, Hilkhot Teshuvah 7:5): “En Yisrael nigalin ela beTeshuvah,” “The Jewish People will not be redeemed without teshuvah (repentance).” Rav Alkalai distinguishes between teshuvah of the individual and teshuvah of the community. The individual must repent in the most straightforward manner; one must correct any lapses in Torah observance. In contrast, national teshuvah refers to our nation returning to Eretz Yisrael. Rav Alkalai proves this point from the etymology of the word teshuvah, which means to return to one’s original place of residence, as in the pasuk, “U’teshuvato haRamata ki sham beto” (“And his return was to Ramah, for there was his house,” Shemuel I 7:17).

After Rav Alkalai made aliya in 1874, he moved to Jerusalem, where he engaged in major debates with the rabbis of the Yishuv HaYashan, the traditional Jewish community in Jerusalem, which opposed activist settlement in Eretz Yisrael.

 

Support for Zionism among Great Moroccan Rabbanim

 

The great Moroccan Rabbanim, ranging from Rav Shalom Messas to the famous Baba Sali, were enthusiastic supporters of Zionism. Indeed, Rav Gigi recalled from the years in which he was raised in Morocco that there was widespread support and enthusiasm for Zionism in all circles. Rav Shalom Messas maintained that one should recite Hallel on Yom HaAtzma’ut with a blessing. However, out of respect to the ruling of Rav Ovadia Yosef, he ruled that Hallel should be recited without a blessing (Teshuvot Shemesh U’Magen 3:63:6). 

The Baba Sali asserted that the State of Israel was created in the merit of the poem composed by his son, the Baba Meir, called “Degel Yisrael Herima,” “The flag of Israel has been raised.” When the Baba Sali was told that secular Jews were building the State of Israel, he replied by citing the Naḥem prayer, which we recite on Tisha B’Av: “Ki Atah b’esh hitzata, uva’esh Atah atid l’vnota”—with fire Yerushalayim was destroyed and with fire it will be rebuilt. He explained that just as Jerusalem was destroyed by the fire of idolatry, it will sadly be rebuilt by idolatry.

Israeli agents for aliya were well received in Morocco. Rav Yitzchak Abuḥatzeira, the Chief Rabbi of Ramle, is remembered for allowing his house to serve as a place of transition for Jews making aliya. Although there was great debate in Moroccan communities about the Alliance schools, which brought secular studies to Sephardic communities, the debates related to the fact that these schools influenced their students to abandon Torah ways; they had nothing to do with Zionism.

Finally, Rav Amram Aburbeh was a noted Moroccan Rav who was an enthusiastic supporter of Zionism and predicted Israel’s massive victory in the Six Day War with God’s help, months before his passing in 1966.

 

Rav Ovadia Yosef

 

Rav Ovadia Yosef recited a MiSheberach prayer for the soldiers of Tzahal (the IDF) each time the Ark was opened to remove the Torah on Shabbat morning. Rav Ovadia expresses his strong support for the State of Israel in one of his Responsa (Yabia Omer 11: Ḥoshen Mishpat 22), where he explains his position permitting the exchange of Israeli land for peace. Members of Kenesset from the Shas party, which was guided by Rav Ovadia, are permitted to serve as cabinet ministers in the Israeli government, unlike the Ashkenazic Ḥareidi members of Kenesset, who join the governing coalition but are forbidden by their rabbinic leaders to serve as cabinet ministers. The Yalkut Yosef—written by Rav Ovadia’s son, Rav Yitzḥak Yosef—is replete with instructions for Israeli soldiers, something that is (sadly) anathema in many Ashkenazic circles.

A contrast between Rav Ovadia’s reaction to the great Entebbe rescue in 1976 with that of the Satmar Rav is most instructive. Whereas the Satmar Rav reacted with condemnation (based on the Mishna in Gittin 45a),[2] Rav Ovadia reacted with the utmost enthusiasm (Yabia Omer 10: Ḥoshen Mishpat 7; Yeḥaveh Da’at 2:25).

Rav Ovadia rules (Yeḥaveh Da’at 5:63) that one must fully comply with Israeli tax regulations. In this responsum, Rav Ovadia even endorses Rav Kook’s ruling that a government accepted by the Jewish People in Eretz Yisrael enjoys the status of a king in certain regards. Rav Ovadia frequently cites Rav Kook in his Responsa in the most respectful and reverential manner, which unfortunately in not always the case among Ashkenazic Ḥareidim. 

 

Sephardic Rabbinical Opposition to Zionism

 

Rav Gigi noted that there were Sephardic rabbis who opposed Zionism and even issued proclamations to refrain from voting in Israeli elections. He observed, however, that their opposition was not rooted in a fundamental opposition to Zionism, but rather stemmed from disapproval of nonobservant members of the Israeli government and the improper pressure placed on Sephardic olim to enroll their children in secular public schools, which encouraged the abandonment of a Torah lifestyle.

 

Rav HaLevy, Rav Uziel, and Rav Hadaya

 

Rav Gigi concluded by noting two great Sephardic rabbis who were enthusiastic supporters of the State of Israel and Religious Zionism, Rav Ḥayim David HaLevy and Chief Rabbi Ben Tzion Meir Ḥai Uziel.

Rav Ḥayim David HaLevy, who for many years served as the Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv, makes his support for Religious Zionism clear in his works, such as his Teshuvot Asei Lekha Rav. His Kitzur Shulḥan Arukh, Mekor Ḥayyim has served for decades as the basic halakhic work taught in Religious Zionist schools.

Rav Ben Tzion Meir Ḥai Uziel served as the first Sephardic Chief Rabbi of the State of Israel and composed, together with Chief Rabbi Yitzḥak Herzog and Shai Agnon, the Tefillah L’Shlom HaMedina (prayer for the State of Israel). Rav Uziel wrote: “A great and miraculous merit has been revealed in this generation, to fulfill the words of the prophets to establish a Jewish State in Eretz Yisrael.” Rav Uziel proceeded to implore all Jews “to return to full Torah observance and to guard the people and State of Israel.” 

We should add that Rav Ovadia Hadaya, a major Sephardic mid-twentieth century halakhic authority, describes the establishment of the State of Israel as “teḥilat haGeula,” the beginning of our redemption (Teshuvot Yaskil Avdi 6:10). He describes the miracles of Israel’s War of Independence as comparable to the miracles of Ḥanukkah and the splitting of the Red Sea. Although he believes that a blessing should not be said on Hallel recited on Yom HaAtzma’ut, his enthusiasm for Medinat Yisrael is presented unambiguously.

 

Conclusion

 

Support for Zionism is quite strong among Sephardim, even in Ḥareidi circles.[3] Fundamental opposition to the State of Israel, such as was voiced by the Satmar Rav, is virtually unheard of in the Sephardic community.[4] Thus, I was not surprised to hear that Rav Eli Mansour, a Sephardic Ḥareidi leader in Brooklyn, strongly encouraged his followers to attend the AIPAC policy conference in Washington in 2018.[5]

 

*****

 

Four Distinct Elements of Yemenite Practice

 

            The most cogent way to describe Yemenite Jews and their halakhic practice is “very distinctive.” Their pronunciation of Hebrew,[6] appearance,[7] and halakhic rulings mark them as a unique segment of the Jewish people.

There are four elements of Yemenite practice that give it its unique flavor.

 

Element #1: A Very Conservative Bent

 

            Yemenite halakha is the most conservative of all of the streams of our people; Yemenite Jews adhere closely to the original practice recorded in the Talmud and Rishonim. Yemenites are virtually the only Jews who still read the Targum Onkelos during Torah reading (as per Megilla 23b). In addition, unlike other Jews who have a ba’al keri’a read the Torah on behalf of those who receive an aliya at the public Torah reading (a practice already noted by Tosafot, Megilla 21b, s.v. tanna), Yemenite Jews preserve the original custom for the oleh to read the portion himself.

            Other examples are the Yemenite practice to eat meat during the Nine Days until the se’uda haMafseket, the pre-fast meal, as is the original practice recorded in the Mishnah and Gemara (Ta'anit 26b and 30a). Many Yemenites do not perform the ritual of Tashlih, as it doesn’t appear in the Talmud, Rambam, or Shulḥan Arukh.[8] On Rosh Hashana, many Yemenites sound only 40 kolot (shofar blasts), the original practice in the time of the Talmud (as described by the Rambam, Hilkhot Shofar 3:10), as opposed to the 100 kolot sounded by most other Jews. Yemenite Jews are the only Jews who still practice atifat haRosh (covering the head with a tallit) and ḥalitzat katef (exposing the shoulder) during shiva, as is the original practice presented in the Gemara (Moed Katan 22b).

            The most famous example of Yemenite halakhic conservatism relates to Ḥerem D’Rabbenu Gershom, which prohibited marrying more than one wife. Whether de facto or de jure, Yemenite men did not accept the practice to refrain from marrying more than one wife. Until their arrival in Eretz Yisrael, they continued the original practice to marry more than one wife.[9]

 

Element #2: Maintaining Traditions

 

            There is a distinct advantage to the ultra-conservative bent of Yemenite Jews. As a result of their extraordinarily strong inclination to preserve the past, they have succeeded in preserving many of our traditions (mesora) that have been lost by most other Jews over the centuries.

Rashi (Vayikra 11:22) already notes the loss of the tradition as to how to distinguish between kosher and non-kosher grasshoppers. Yemenite Jews have kept this tradition alive. The same applies to the processes of nikur ḥelev and gid hanasheh (removing forbidden fats and sinews from slaughtered animals). Rav Eliezer Melamed explains:

 

The accepted custom in Israel today goes according to nikur Yerushalmi, i.e., to be very stringent and to perform nikur on everything that is close and similar to ḥelev and the branches of the gid hanasheh and its fats, to the point that approximately 13–25% of the weight of the hind flesh is lost. Only the immigrants from two communities, Yemen and Morocco, meticulously guarded the tradition of nikur, according to which only about 5% of the weight of the hind flesh is lost.[10]

 

Similarly, although many Sephardic Jews maintained a tradition to bake soft matzot, the Yemenites are the most renowned for their fidelity to this practice.

 

Element #3: Allegiance to the Rambam

 

            As is well-known, Yemenite Jews had a very close relationship with the Rambam. The Rambam’s grandson, Rav David HaNagid, reports that Yemenite Jews posed more questions to the Rambam than any other group of Jews. This special bond is maintained to this day, although to varying degrees.

Yemenites follow rulings of the Rambam that most other Jews do not accept. One example is the practice to recite a blessing upon entering a sukkah even if one is not going to eat in the sukkah (as per Hilkhot Sukka 6:12). Another is allowing reheating of liquids (such as soup) on Shabbat that were cooked before Shabbat. Many Yemenites follow the Rambam’s ruling (Hilkhot Shabbat 22:8) that the rule of “en bishul aḥar bishul” (once a food is fully cooked, there is no further cooking process) applies even to liquids.[11]

Most famously, Yemenites respond “Halleluya” to each section of Hallel, for a total of no less than 123 times, in accordance with the Rambam’s ruling (Hilkhot Ḥanukkah 3:12). Yemenites similarly follow the Rambam’s requirement (Hilkhot Ma’akhalot Assurot 6:10) that meat be boiled (ḥalita) after salting to seal in any remaining blood. The Shulḥan Arukh (Yoreh De’ah 69:19), by contrast, does not require ḥalita

Interestingly, many Yemenite Jews recite a Borei Peri HaJofan on all four cups of wine at the seder, in accordance with the ruling of the Rambam (Hilkhot Ḥametz U’Matza 8:5, 10). This stands in contrast to Sephardic Jews, who follow the Shulḥan Arukh’s ruling to recite Borei Peri HaGefen only on the first and third kosot (Shulḥan Arukh, Oraḥ Ḥayyim 474:1, 480:1).

The custom accepted by the Shulḥan Arukh (Oraḥ Ḥayyim 46:1) is to recite all the Birkot HaShaḥar (early morning blessings) at once, so as not to forget one of them. However, the original enactment of Ḥazal was for the Birkot HaShaḥar to accompany the process of arising in the morning and for everything to be blessed adjacent to its benefit (Berakhot 60b). This is how the Rambam (Hilkhot Tefillah 7:9) ruled in practice—but only in the Yemenite community do some still follow this custom to this day.

 

Element #4: Unique Practices

 

Yemenites maintain some unique practices. Whereas the Ashkenazic and Sephardic shofar is made from the horn of a domestic ram, a Yemenite shofar is made from the horn of an African kudu and has an elongated and curvy body. Interestingly, Yemenite Jews developed the practice to use this type of shofar in light of the preference to use the horn of a ram in order to invoke the memory of the Binding of Isaac (see Rosh Hashana 16a).

The Yemenite etrog is a classic example of a type of etrog with a highly respected tradition that ensures it was not grafted with a lemon. The Yemenite etrog is distinguished by its lack of pulp. Yemenite Jews typically use a very large etrog, somewhat reminiscent of the story recorded in the Gemara (Sukka 36b) about the extraordinarily large etrog that Rabbi Akiva brought to his synagogue.[12]

Many Yemenites tie their tzitzith in a manner consistent with that which is set forth in the Rambam (Hilkhot Tzitzith 1:6).

Many Yemenites eat roasted meat at the Seder. The Mishna (Pesaḥim 53a) records the differing communal practices as to whether roasted meat is consumed on the first night of Pesaḥ. The potential concern is the appearance that one is partaking of the Korban Pesaḥ (which was roasted) outside of the Temple. The Mishna Berura (476:1), Arukh HaShulḥan (Oraḥ Ḥayyim 476:1), and Rav Ovadia Yosef (Teshuvot Yeḥaveh Da’at 3:27) all record that the Aḥaronim agree that the custom is to refrain from roasted meat on the night of Pesaḥ. Despite this, the Yemenite community is the only Jewish community that still consumes roasted meat on the seder night! 

 

Conclusion

 

            One’s knowledge of Jewish practice is not complete without awareness of Yemenite practices. When noting Jewish practices, one should be cognizant to note Ashkenazic, Sephardic, and Yemenite practices. Although outside of Israel Yemenite congregations are relatively few in number, in Israel their presence is keenly felt. Most Israeli communities boast not only Ashkenazic and Sephardic synagogues, but a Yemenite one as well. Our investment in discovering Yemenite practice is well worth the effort, as only when including Yemenite practice is the picture of Jewish practice complete.

 

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Rav Mordechai Eliyahu: A Major Twentieth-Century Sephardic Posek

 

Many Jews outside the Sephardic orbit think that three individuals constitute the corpus of Sephardic Halakha: the Rambam, Rav Yosef Karo, and Rav Ovadia Yosef. Of course, the Rambam was far from the lone Sephardic great Rishon, and Rav Yosef Karo is joined by a phalanx of great Sephardic Aḥaronim, such as the Peri Ḥadash and the Ḥida. Rav Ovadia Yosef, in turn, was far from the only great Sephardic posek of the second half of the twentieth century. In this chapter, we discuss another twentieth century Sephardic “superstar,” Rav Mordechai Eliyahu.

 

Three Distinctions from Rav Ovadia

 

Rav Eliyahu, who served as Israel’s Sephardic Chief Rabbi from 1983 to 1993, adopted a very different style from that of Rav Ovadia Yosef. We can point to three significant differences.

Rav Ovadia did not emphasize Kabbalah, and his rulings famously differed quite often from those of the great nineteenth-century authority the Ben Ish Ḥai, Rav Yosef Ḥayim of Baghdad, who incorporated a great deal of kabbalistic thought and practice in his rulings. Rav Ovadia even composed a multi-volume work entitled Halikhot Olam in which he defends his deviations from the Ben Ish Ḥai’s rulings.

By contrast, Rav Eliyahu retained a fierce loyalty to the rulings and approach of the Ben Ish Ḥai. For example, Rav Eliyahu’s edition of the siddur, Kol Eliyahu, and his sefer Darkhei Taharah are replete with references to the Ben Ish Ḥai. This is hardly surprising, considering that Rav Eliyahu’s father and grandfather were close to the Ben Ish Ḥai and Rav Eliyahu’s wife, Mazal, was the Ben Ish Ḥai’s great-niece. One can fairly assert that Rav Eliyahu presented a contemporary version of the Ben Ish Ḥai’s rulings, which are characterized by its infusion of kabbalistic influence and an orientation to accommodate a broad base of opinions.

 

Rav Eliezer Melamed describes Rav Mordechai Eliyahu’s approach to halakha:

 

Rav Yosef Ḥayim of Baghdad was unique in that he merged and incorporated all the significant opinions in his halakhic rulings. The base of his rulings was the Bet Yosef and Shulḥan Arukh. However, in addition he considered the other great posekim, both Ashkenazic and Sephardic. Rav Eliyahu remarked that at times the Ben Ish Ḥai followed the [Ashkenazic] Magen Avraham and the Shulḥan Arukh HaRav.

Rav Eliyahu continued in this path. He would remark that it is not our role to discover lenient approaches and follow them. Rather, we should find the path to satisfy the consensus opinion, and only in case of pressing need (sha’at haDeḥak) rely on the lenient opinions.[13]

 

            This stands in stark contrast to Rav Ovadia Yosef, whose halakhic rulings are renowned for their lenient orientation. This difference in orientation is specifically pronounced with regard to taharat haMishpaḥa (laws of family purity). Rav Ovadia’s three-volume work on this area of Halakha, entitled Taharat HaBayit, adopts a far more lenient approach than Rav Eliyahu’s Darkhei Taharah.

            A third difference relates to the attitude toward the State of Israel specifically and modernity in general. While Rav Ovadia certainly adopted a positive approach to Medinat Yisrael, Rav Eliyahu was more of an ardent Zionist. He thus captured the loyalty of Israel’s “Ḥareidi-Le’umi” (scrupulously observant Zionist) community. He served as a soldier in Israel’s War of Independence, enthusiastically embraced Jewish settlement of Yehuda and Shomron, and often visited soldiers in the Israel Defense Forces to offer encouragement.

            With regard to modernity, one example highlights a difference between Rav Eliyahu and other great rabbis. Rav Eliyahu wrote (Teḥumin, vol. 3, p. 244) that under current circumstances, religiously observant judges can make a positive contribution to the Israeli civil court system.[14] This is quite a contrast with the stance of Rav Shalom Messas (Teshuvot Shemesh U’Magen 3: Even HaEzer 44), who invalidated a wedding because one of the witnesses served as a judge in the Israeli civil court system. Although the witness was a practicing Orthodox Jew, Rav Messas claims that anyone who serves as a judge in civil court is considered a thief, because he forces people to pay money even when the halakha does not necessarily require the payment. 

            Rav Yisrael Rozen, in his dedication of Teḥumin vol. 31 in memory of Rav Eliyahu, writes:

 

At Machon Tzomet, we have stored numerous rulings of Rav Eliyahu regarding security in settlements and the Israel Defense Forces on Shabbat, as well as other government and communal service providers, such as hospitals, fire departments, and allied sectors. All of these rulings were thoughtful and effective.[15] 

 

Three Specific Areas of Disagreement

 

            Three disputes regarding prayer bring to life the difference in approach between Rav Mordechai Eliyahu and Rav Ovadia in terms of conflicting fidelity to the Ben Ish Ḥai and the Bet Yosef.

 

One who Omits HaMelekh HaMishpat

 

Rav Ovadia (Teshuvot Yeḥaveh Da’at 1:57) rules that a Sephardic Jew who omits “haMelekh haMishphat” during the Aseret Yemei Teshuva (the days from Rosh Hashana through Yom Kippur) must repeat his Amida, in accordance with the ruling of the Shulḥan Arukh (Oraḥ Ḥayyim 582:2). Rav Mordechai Eliyahu (Siddur Kol Eliyahu; Teshuvot Ma’amar Mordechai, Aseret Yemei Teshuva 19), on the other hand, rules that one should follow the ruling of the Ben Ish Ḥai (year 1, Parashat Nitzavim 19). 

 

She’asa Li Kol Tzorki on Tisha B’Av and Yom Kippur

 

            Rav Ovadia for many years ruled that one should not recite the early morning blessing of She’asa li kol tzorki on Tisha B’Av and Yom Kippur. Since this blessing is an expression of thanks for shoes (Berakhot 60b), this blessing would appear to be inappropriate for Tisha B’Av and Yom Kippur, when we are forbidden to wear leather shoes. However, later in life, in his Ḥazon Ovadia (Yamim Nora’im, p. 320), Rav Ovadia disagreed with the Ben Ish Ḥai and ruled that a person should indeed make the blessing of She’asa li kol tzorki even on Tisha B’Av and Yom Kippur.[16]

Among Rav Ovadia’s explanations are that since there are Jews who legitimately wear shoes on Tisha B’Av (for example, a pregnant woman or the elderly), all Jews may say She’asa li kol tzorki on Tisha B’Av and Yom Kippur. Most important for Rav Ovadia, Rav Yosef Karo does not distinguish between Tisha B’Av and Yom Kippur and all other days with regard to this blessing. Thus, She’asa li kol tzorki should be said even on these two days.

Rav Mordechai Eliyahu (Siddur Kol Eliyahu) remains loyal to the ruling of the Ben Ish Ḥai (year 1, Parashat Vayeshev 9) that we should follow the Ari z”l, who urged that She’asa li kol tzorki should not be recited on Tisha B’Av and Yom Kippur.[17]

                                                                                                                              

Reciting the Amida Audibly

 

Finally, Rav Eliyahu and Rav Ovadia disagree as to which is the proper way to recite the Amida—silently or audibly. The Shulḥan Arukh (Oraḥ Ḥayyim 101:2) rules that when praying the Amida, one must move his or her lips and enunciate the words; thinking the words in one’s mind does not fulfill the obligation. This is indicating in the verse describing the prayer of Ḥannah, mother of the prophet Shmuel: “Only her lips were moving…” (Shmuel I 1:13). This view of the Shulḥan Arukh is shared by all authorities.

There is, however, disagreement among the authorities as to how loudly the Amida should be recited. The Shulḥan Arukh rules that people should recite the Amida softly enough that those standing near them will not hear their prayer, but loudly enough to allow them to hear their own prayer. Among the Kabbalists, however, we find a different tradition in this regard. The Ben Ish Ḥai (year 1, Parashat Mishpatim 3) cites from the Zohar that while people must enunciate the words of prayer, they should not be audible even to the extent that the one praying hears the words. The Ben Ish Ḥai cites from the Ari z”l’s student, Rav Ḥayim Vital, that if one’s prayer is even slightly audible, the “ḥitzonim” (harmful spiritual forces) are capable of disrupting the prayer’s efficacy and preventing it from reaching its destination.[18]

Nonetheless, the Ben Ish Ḥai, in his work Od Yosef Ḥai (Parashat Mishpatim 3), rules that the halakha on this issue depends on the individual’s ability to properly pronounce the words and concentrate on prayer. People who feel that they can accurately enunciate the words and pray with concentration when reciting the Amida inaudibly should do so, in accordance with the approach of the Zohar and Rav Ḥayim Vital. If, however, one suspects that he or she might swallow words or experience difficulty concentrating, should follow the Shulḥan Arukh’s ruling and pray the Amida loudly enough to hear the words.

Rav Mordechai Eliyahu (Siddur Kol Eliyahu) rules in accordance with the Ben Ish Ḥai. By contrast, Rav Ovadia Yosef (Halikhot Olam 1:157; Yalkut Yosef, Oraḥ Ḥayyim 101:2:1) writes that the halakha follows the position of the Shulḥan Arukh, that the Amida should be recited audibly. Of course, those who recite the Amida audibly must ensure to recite it softly enough that only they—and nobody else in the synagogue—can hear their prayer, in keeping with the example set by Ḥannah.

 

Conclusion

 

Rav Mordechai Eliyahu unfortunately does not get much attention, even among Sephardic Jews in the United States. However, his influence in certain circles in Israel, especially in the Ḥareidi-Le’umi community, is profound.[19] While his halakhic style may not suit every individual or every Sephardic community, his voice must be considered in rendering decisions, especially for the Sephardic community.

Far from detracting from the greatness of Rav Ovadia, considering Rav Eliyahu’s opinions actually enhances Rav Ovadia’s influence. A great musician, l’havdil, is enhanced when teamed with other great musicians. The symphony of Sephardic halakha is similarly upgraded by including the entire cast of great players in the orchestra. 

 

Notes

 

[1] Rav Gigi noted that the Maharsha on the Gemara in Ketuvot clearly supports the approach of the Meshekh Ḥokhma and Avnei Nezer. The Maharsha explains that Neḥemiah was permitted to rebuild the walls of Yerushalayim (Neḥemia 1–9) because he had permission from the Persian emperor Artaxerxes.

[2] As cited in the weekly newspaper that serves as the organ of the Satmar community, Der Yid, Aug. 20, 1976.

[3] It is striking that the Artscroll Sephardic Siddur includes Rav Ovadia’s version of the prayer for Israeli soldiers, whereas the Ashkenazic version of the Artscroll Siddur does not include this prayer.

[4] Numerous Sephardic rabbis have told me that Zionism for Sephardic Jews did not have the secular political overtones that were pervasive in the Ashkenazic community. Rather, for Sephardic Jews, Zionism is an expression of love for Eretz Yisrael, and thus fundamental opposition to Zionism among Sephardic Jews is uncommon.

[5] I was also delighted to see that Rav Mansour writes (http://www.dailyhalakha.com/displayRead.asp?readID=2949): “Special preference should be given to the etrogim of Eretz Yisrael. Rav Yeḥiel Michel Epstein (Arukh HaShulḥan, Oraḥ Ḥayyim 648) elaborates on the importance of using an etrog grown in Eretz Yisrael when such an etrog is available. He writes that it would be a grave affront to our land if one has the option of using an etrog from Eretz Yisrael but chooses instead to use an etrog grown outside the land.”

[6] For example, Ashkenazic Jews recite Borei Peri HaGofen, Sephardic Jews say Borei Peri HaGefen, and most Yemenite Jews pronounce Borei Peri HaJofan.

[7] There is ample DNA evidence that demonstrates that Ashkenazic, Sephardic, and Yemenite Jews stem from the same genetic background and geographic origin. For more on this topic, see: http://www.cohen-levi.org/jewish_genes_and_genealogy/jewish_genes_-_dna_evidence.htm.

[8] As noted by Rav Zecharia Ben-Shlomo, Orot HaHalakha, p. 819.

[9] Although today even Yemenites refrain from marrying more than one wife, in case of a woman’s get recalcitrance, a recognized and competent Bet Din has considerable flexibility in relieving a Yemenite male from his predicament. Yemenite Jews neither accepted the Ḥerem D’Rabbenu Gershom, nor do they incorporate into their ketubot a solemn oath to refrain from marrying more than one wife, as other Sephardim did. 

[11] Rav Melamed writes that it is permissible for all Jews to consume soup (even when it is hot) when served at a home of Yemenite Jews who follows their ancestral practice. The Yalkut Yosef (Oraḥ Ḥayyim 253:11) similarly permits food cooked in accordance with legitimate opinions even when the one eating the food does not usually follow that lenient approach.

[12] Yemenite etrogim were the etrogim of choice of Rav Ben Tzion Abba Sha’ul. For a review of the range of etrogim with a distinguished pedigree, see Rav Mordechai Lebhar’s essay at https://theshc.org/an-etrog-or-a-lemon-2/

[14] Rav Eliyahu writes that the same applies to observant Jews serving as journalists working in a predominantly secular framework.

[15] Rav Rozen was the long serving head of Machon Tzomet, which works to forge a working connection between Torah, the State of Israel, and contemporary Israeli society.

[16] I heard Rav Yitzḥak Yosef explain that in his earlier years, Rav Ovadia would apply the principle of saba”l (safek berachot l’hakel, omitting a blessing in case of doubt) in regard to this issue. However, in later years Rav Ovadia was more confident and felt we should undoubtedly follow the straightforward meaning of the Shulḥan Arukh and not concern ourselves with the Kabbala-influenced rulings of the Ari z”l in this context.

[17] Interestingly, the Moroccan siddurim indicate agreement with Rav Ovadia regarding this issue. In general, Moroccan posekim are less influenced by kabbalistic concerns in their halakhic rulings than other Sephardic decisors.

[18] The Ba’er Hetev (Oraḥ Ḥayyim 101:3) writes that the practice of the Ari z”l was to pray very low during the week; only on Shabbat did he raise his voice a bit.

[19] Rav Eliyahu’s influence in the area of taharat haMishpaḥa is especially strong due to the flourishing of Machon Pu’ah, which assists couples experiencing fertility challenges. Machon Pu’ah is led by Rav Menahem Burstein, a leading student of Rav Eliyahu. Rav Eliyahu’s influence extends to both Ashkenazic and Sephardic members of the Religious Zionist community in Israel.  

National Scholar Report: October 2020

Despite the COVID-19 era, we are grateful to continue to provide meaningful content via Zoom, publications, and other venues.

I just published my latest book, Cornerstones: The Bible and Jewish Ideology. The book contains twelve essays that explore aspects of our core values at the Institute.

The book is available at amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cornerstones-Jewish-Ideology-Hayyim-Angel/dp/1947857436/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=hayyim+angel&qid=1603212552&sr=8-1

or at our store: https://www.jewishideas.org/corner-stones-bible-and-jewish-ideology-rabbi-hayyim-angel

I thank the sponsors of the book who contributed to the Institute to make the book’s publication and distribution possible.

 

We also recently published Conversations 36, which contains a remarkable array of essays by distinguished scholars, thinkers, and educators. It is available in pdf format, please email [email protected] if you do not yet have one!

 

On October 19, I began a six-part series at Lamdeinu, Teaneck, on King Saul and David and the contemporary relevance of these gripping narratives. If you would like to join this class, please visit https://www.lamdeinu.org/register/ to register.

I will soon begin to study the Book of Psalms with the Beit Midrash of Teaneck. For more information and to join the Zoom sessions please contact Leah Feldman at [email protected]. These classes are free.

 

Here are some other recent teaching highlights:

On August 30, I participated in the annual Study Days in Bible and Jewish Thought with Yeshivat Chovevei Torah.

In September, I gave a three-part series on Judaism and Humanity. You may watch the classes at

Part 1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pa_YKnw0870&t=346s

Part 2: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DEHXFYEnD1w&t=3s

Part 3: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyLGE-6uzCo&t=2470s

On September 30, I conducted a teachers’ training session to educators at the Academy of Jewish Thought and Learning in South Africa.

On October 7, I gave a lecture to the community at the Young Israel of Stamford, CT.

On October 15, I gave a lecture to the UJA-JCC in Greenwich, CT.

 

As always, I profoundly thank the members and supporters of our Institute for enabling us to disseminate our vision around the globe. We are constantly corresponding with interested people and are making a genuine impact with our classes and publications.

May God bless us all with good health,

Rabbi Hayyim Angel

National Scholar

Review of Rabbi Hayyim Angel's New Book

Cornerstones: The Bible and Jewish Ideology, by Rabbi Hayyim Angel, Kodesh Press, 2020

 

 

Reviewed by Steven Gotlib

 

Let’s talk about Tanakh. 

 

One of my biggest pet peeves about rabbinical school is that we just don’t spend much time (if any!) talking about Tanakh aside from when it’s cited in other works. I was always a bit confused about this. After all, Tanakh is the very cornerstone of our belief! What possible excuse could future rabbis have for not knowing it well? My desire to correct this for myself led me to study all the Tanakh that I could. Not only the books themselves, but scholarship as well.

 

It was this process that first introduced me to the prolific scholar, R. Hayyim Angel. I was amazed by his uncanny ability to reveal the depths of Tanakh, dissecting each layer of seemingly straight-forward narratives until his audience was blinded by their inner light. With each class that I listened to, I came away truly feeling like I had been handed “The Keys to the Palace,” to play on the title of one of his recent books. 

 

Thanks to those experiences, as well as working under R. Angel as one of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals’ campus fellows, I knew that his next book would be one I’d want. “Cornerstones: The Bible and Jewish Ideology” did not disappoint. This volume is a celebration of everything I love about the study of Tanakh in general and R. Angel’s methodology in particular, seeking to demonstrate once and for all that “the religious heart and soul of the Jewish people is the Hebrew Bible” (ix). 

 

One way that R. Angel goes about this is by demonstrating that although the Written Law found in Tanakh can differ significantly from its Oral and more legally binding counterpart, “the Written Law still teaches central values of the Torah” (93). R. Angel explains that “the Talmud and Midrash, Jewish philosophy and mysticism, and Jewish thought all find their deepest roots in the Bible. For millennia, Jews and other faith communities have been transformed by this unparalleled collection of 24 books… When we learn and teach Tanakh properly, we convey a sense of holiness and reverence, coupled with respect for individuality and intellectual struggle with our most sacred texts and traditions” (185).

 

This way of learning can even involve academic methodology, provided it is coming from the right frame of mind. “To benefit from contemporary biblical scholarship properly, we must first understand our own tradition – to have a grasp of our texts, assumptions and the range of traditional interpretations… Religious scholarship benefits from contemporary findings [and] the academy stands to benefit from those who are heirs to thousands of years of tradition, who approach every word of Tanakh with awe and reverence, who care deeply about the intricate relationship between texts” (188). 

 

In addition to stressing the importance of learning “Tanakh L’Shma” and “Tanakh U’Madda,” as I call them, R. Angel makes sure to emphasize that studying Tanakh as an academic interest alone is not enough. “One of the overarching goals of the Torah is to refine people’s moral character. Many laws and narratives overtly focus on morality, and many others inveigh against the immorality and amorality of paganism. The biblical prophets place consistency between observance of God’s ritual and moral laws at the very heart of their message” (52). The prophet Amos, for example, taught that “being God-fearing necessarily means rising to the highest levels or morality and social responsibility” (113).

 

To “just do it” may be enough for Nike, but not for the people of the Book. One must do what they do with an inspired spirit. With this in mind, R. Angel makes it clear that empowering and encouraging Jewish passion does not require us to reinvent the wheel. Rather, “[w]e must find [Judaism’s] most compelling elements within our classical sources and promote them. The best of Judaism has the power to attract and inspire many Jews and they in turn can create a positive model society to inspire humanity” (208). The values of Tanakh provide us a guide to living and thinking ideally. We need only to read and share it. 

 

In addition to this selection of quotes, each chapter of “Cornerstones” adds something new to the table. Whether it’s timeless discussions of the land of Israel, loving the stranger, and the place of superstition, or hot topics like contemporary moral intuition, religious dogma, and day school curriculums, R. Angel is unafraid to unite classical and contemporary scholarship in the service of upholding Tanakh’s enduring resonance. Though some of the essays may seem a bit repetitive at times, each of these topics and more are treated thoroughly and thoughtfully by R. Angel. As the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals’ National Scholar, his authoring this volume certainly succeeds at showing his readers that a Judaism grounded in Tanakh is one that is “intellectually sound, spiritually compelling, and emotionally satisfying.” This collection of essays, many of which were previously published in the Institute’s Conversations journal, is a must-have for all who want to learn and teach Tanakh effectively.

 

I’ll end this review with the concluding paragraph of one of the volume’s most powerful essays: “We pray for a growing embodiment of the Torah’s ideals: a loving faithful marriage as the central bond for raising a family and transmitting religious values; a universal commitment to law and justice; a realization that all human beings are created in God’s image, with no racism, sexism, or other forms of discrimination; a universal desire to connect to God through living a life of holiness; a world where all evil is eliminated, and humanity serves God and lives ideal moral lives” (65-66).

 

Amen.
(Pre-orders of Rabbi Hayyim Angel's new book may be made on this link:  https://www.jewishideas.org/corner-stones-bible-and-jewish-ideology-rabbi-hayyim-angel

Responsiveness as a Greatmaking Property

When we talk about “God,” we intuitively think of a powerful, nonphysical entity that somehow created and runs the universe. To clarify this vague conception and set a more concrete groundwork for discussions about the nature of God, classical theologians have posited the Greatest Possible Being (GPB) thesis as the primary mode of understanding God.[i]After expounding upon the definition and implications of the GPB construct, this article will argue that a GPB identifiable as the God of religious tradition by said definition will contain responsiveness as one of its attributes rather than complete immutability as the Greeks and other classical theologians have posited.

The GPB concept requires both an intuitive and a more robust definition. Intuitively, the term “greatest possible being” accurately portrays God as “the being than which none greater can be conceived.”[ii] If one can conceive of a being greater than the working conception of the GPB, then the conception is wrong. Augustine explains the experience of thinking about a GPB conception of God as one where “one’s thought strains to reach something than which there is nothing higher or more sublime.”[iii] Experientially, in the process of thinking about God, the human intellect reaches its limits; Adams asserts that “Divine nature is permanently partially beyond our cognitive grasp” when grappling with the GPB.[iv]

The concept still needs a robust definition to make it comprehensible. Morris provides a clear framework of how one would construct a maximally perfect being a priori by explaining that “God is thought of as exemplifying necessarily a maximally perfect set of compossible greatmaking properties.”[v] Morris defines perfections as “Properties which are constituted by the logical maximum of an upwardly bounded, degreed great-making property,” which are “Properties it is intrinsically better to have than to lack.”[vi] These properties must also have a theoretical limit that can be maxed out for the GPB. For example, God can know everything, but God cannot be infinitely rich; therefore, knowledge is a greatmaking property and wealth is not. The maximally perfect set of these properties thus has room for flexibility; people can disagree about which properties are optimal for God to have while still agreeing on the general GPB framework.

There are two different approaches to a God that can both lead to the belief in a GPB. Morris outlines an a priorist tradition, which “begins with a purportedly self-evident conception of God as the greatest possible being” and uses this “exalted yet simple conception of deity to entail all the divine attributes.”[vii] An Anselmian theologian could construct a GPB without ever leaving the ivory tower. In contrast, an a posteriorist approach builds from empirical and experiential facts to a conception of God. Morris argues that rather than “contrast[ing] starkly the God of faith with the God of reason, the God of history with the God of the academy, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob with the God of the philosophers,” we can argue that these are one and the same.[viii] Because the GPB is a “proper object of religious devotion” due to its maximal perfection, religious individuals can certainly worship such a being.[ix]

The hinge of this claim that the GPB is the God of religious traditions is that the GPB is worthy of our worship. If our notion of God was only pretty good, and the possibility of a GPB existed, then it would not be logical to worship the PDGB (Pretty Darn Good Being).[x] However, if “we know that if there is a highest one, it deserves our fealty, not arbitrarily, but because of its perfections.”[xi] This move not only allows the GPB to be the God of religious traditions, but even more so argues that the GPB is the best candidate for the job.

With this in mind, I would like to shift to one specific greatmaking property, immutability, and analyze whether it belongs in the maximally perfect set of greatmaking properties, which belong to a GPB that is also the God of religious traditions. Morris asserts that “traditionally, the Anselmian description has been understood to entail that God is, among other things, omnipotent, immutable, eternal...”.[xii] Immutability is certainly a greatmaking property by definition; the question is if a GPB would possess this property or its competitor, responsiveness, in its maximally perfect set. Despite the philosophical tradition in favor of divine immutability, rejecting immutability would not pose a problem to Anselmian GPB construction. “The specific properties an Anselmian God must have are under-determined by the Anselmian formula and by the basic intuitions by means of which it is applied.”[xiii] So long as we can assert that responsiveness is preferable to immutability for religious observance or that immutability is not coherent, we can still uphold Morris’s claim that the GPB is the God of religion.

We must first analyze arguments for immutability to better understand its definition and implications. Relying on God’s assertion to Moses that God’s name is “I will be that which I shall be,”[xiv] Augustine argues that “a God who gave His very name as “I am” and is perfect must be the perfect case of being. But what can change is not a perfect case of being: it does not have its being so securely that it cannot cease to be what it is.”[xv] Since the perfect form of being is immutability, God, who engages in this process of being, must do so in a perfect way, and therefore is immutable. Boethius argues for divine timelessness along similar lines: “Temporal beings no longer live the past parts of their lives. They do not yet live the future parts of their lives.”[xvi] Under the premise that these are both defects, God must have “no past or future. What has no past or future does not change.”[xvii] Classical philosophers thus believe God cannot change for better or for worse because even improving is an imperfection in the state of being for these philosophers.

Such assertions are validated in the Jewish tradition as well. Malachi quotes a prophecy from God in which God asserts; “I am the LORD; I have not changed.”[xviii] Maimonides hones in on this verse in his Guide for the Perplexed, where he asserts that “[God] is immutable in every respect, as He expressly declares, ‘I, the Lord, do not change;’ i.e., in Me there is not any change whatever.”[xix] Similarly, Rabbi Abraham ibn Ezra responds harshly when the Bible says that “God renounced the punishment God had planned to bring upon God’s people” following the sin of the Golden Calf, which seems to imply that God changed God’s mind about the punishment.[xx] Ibn Ezra emphatically declares “God forbid that Hashem should repent! No, the Torah is merely speaking in a language that human beings can understand!”[xxi] Clearly, the intuitive objection against divine mutability of any form influenced some of the greatest biblical commentators.

However, despite the tradition in favor of Divine immutability, there are several philosophical objections to divine immutability, including that of Norman Kretzmann:

 

  1. If God is omniscient, God knows what time it is now.
  2. What time it is now is constantly changing.
  3. What God knows is constantly changing. (First, He knows that it is now t and not now t+1; later He knows that it is now t+1 and not now t.)
  4. God is constantly changing.[xxii]

 

The primary objection to this is that God does not need to know directly what time it is now; rather, the timeless God knows what humans know the present time to be, at all times. The discussion on this objection extends far beyond the scope of the paper, but it introduces complexity into the concept of immutability from a purely philosophical standpoint without even invoking religious experience.

However, the most important objection to immutability and argument in favor of responsiveness is that a robust religious tradition which believes in a human’s ability to have a dynamic relationship with God must allow for modifications to Divine immutability. This need not reject all forms of immutability. One can argue that God possesses time-indexed attributes, that it is always true that at time X God does Y. But this does necessarily reject the Augustinian and Maimonidean notion of perfect being as described above, which refuses to allow God to change at all. Thus, “responsiveness” could be comprised of preordained responses of an immutable God rather than pure reactions to events as open theism posits.[xxiii] Either way, responsiveness means that God’s behaviors and actions can vary over time (even if God is not intrinsically changing). Being in a dynamic, loving relationship demands that God’s actions change over time in accordance with a person’s actions and state of mind. It could be preordained in that since God has foreknowledge of a person’s actions and states of mind, God could eternally have time-indexed responses to each person.[xxiv] However, these specific actions are always tailored to respond to the person in his/her present state.[xxv]

Responsiveness also has a place in religious traditions. The Bible raises several cases where God regrets a decision or changes God’s mind. For example, in Genesis, God “regrets that God created humankind.”[xxvi] God’s attitude toward humanity seems to change in response to humanity’s free choice to sin. The Akeidat Yitzhak, a fifteenth-century Spanish rabbi, explains that Divine regret

 

is a re-consideration of one's plans and attitudes based on a changed set of circumstances … it is an admission that one had erred in one's assessment of the facts which one's promise had been based on. A changed attitude then becomes an act of wisdom, a rejection of foolishness.[xxvii]

 

Of course, this is not to imply that God erred in original judgment and plan. Rather, “when the Bible describes God as having reconsidered, it tells us that God continued to desire that He could carry out what He had originally planned, but what had now become impossible due to the conduct of the other half of the partnership between God and Man.”[xxviii] The preservation of free will demands a God who can change God’s attitudes and actions in response to human choices. Thus, the language of regret can still apply to God, who is “saddened” in having to resort to the alternative plan even though God knew it would happen all along. As such, we can still preserve a perfect but responsive God at all moments in time: when the circumstances change, the most perfect God responds perfectly to those changes to remain perfect for each specific moment.

Similarly, Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav uses this verse to argue that God feels emotion, so to speak, in response to human actions.[xxix] He writes that “We find, therefore, that if there is any misfortune or harsh decree affecting [the world], then certainly the joy of the Holy One is lessened, as in, ‘He grieved in His heart.’26 As the Sages taught: When a person sins, what does the Shekhinah [God] say? ‘My head is heavy! My arms are heavy!”’[xxx] The notion of a responsive God provides a model for religious experience where God deeply cares about our actions, rejoicing in our successes and lamenting our failures.

This concept of a responsive, dynamic God allows for some of the most important elements of religion, including Divine action and a personal God. For God to act in history, this requires that God not act the same way in all times, implying that God acts in relation to the world in a time-dependent manner, either through actual mutability or time-indexed immutability. William Mann provides an example from the Ten Plagues in Exodus: At time t1, God willed that there be locusts in Egypt; at time t2, God willed that there be neither locusts nor darkness; and at time t3, God willed that there be darkness.[xxxi] Such a proposition contradicts the Augustinian notion of divine immutability, which would claim that God is timeless and remains the same at all times. Yet, for religions that believe that God intervenes in a temporal world and speaks to temporal beings, they must concede this point. Even more powerful is the notion of a personal God. The Old Testament emphasizes how God has a close relationship with each person. Performing good deeds strengthens one’s connection to God, sinning weakens it.[xxxii] The Bible asserts that God provides reward and punishment commensurate with one’s actions;[xxxiii] that God listens to prayers and responds to them;[xxxiv] that God comforts us in our pain and cares for us when we are vulnerable and downtrodden.[xxxv] One of the most poignant elements of religious experience is repentance. A person can change his/her ways, and ask God for forgiveness; Jewish tradition asserts that God responds to true acts of repentance by turning past sins into merits.[xxxvi] A GPB of religious experience has personal relationships and therefore must be responsive; an immutable being in such a circumstance would not be as great as one who responded and could engage in dynamic relationships with people.

A potential solution that saves divine immutability while sustaining religious experience rests on a metaphor taught by Rabbi David Aaron, founder and teacher at Yeshivat Orayta, an Orthodox Jewish learning institution in Jerusalem for American gap-year students. Rabbi Aaron would tell his classes that there is music in the room and fall silent as the students looked at each other, not hearing anything. Rabbi Aaron would continue and explain that there are radio waves constantly moving through the room. If one would just have the right equipment and tune to the correct frequency, s/he would be able to experience the music that had been in the room all along. So too with God, if one views God’s will as constantly flowing, we just “tune in” to different aspects of God through our various actions. God is always immutable; we just experience God differently at different times because we access God in different ways.[xxxvii] For a Christian example, one can argue for immutability even in the act of incarnation by asserting that “God was eternally ready to be incarnate, and eternally had those experiences of the earthly Christ which the Incarnation makes part of his life. Through changes in Mary and the infant she bore, what was eternally in God eventually took place on earth.”[xxxviii] God’s essential will and presence is constant and immutable while its earthly manifestation changes in accordance with human actions.

Yet, this approach fails to truly comprehend the nuances of a relationship of love between God and humans that forms the foundation for religious experience. Cobb and Griffin, in arguing for God as responsive love, assert that “responsiveness includes a sympathetic feeling with the worldly beings.”[xxxix] For God to perfectly engage in loving relationships, God must possess “sympathetic compassion” for the other. An ideal relationship transcends “active goodwill”; it entails truly caring for the other and remaining sensitive and present through all circumstances.[xl] For something like repentance to truly have religious significance, it must entail a change in the individual and a response from God, a repair in this mutual relationship. The music metaphor does not adequately provide meaning to this process, because this relationship is one-sided: The penitent could change what aspect of God s/he accesses, but no mutual transformation occurs. This would be a flaw in the relationship, and as such, Divine responsiveness is a property that should replace immutability in the maximally perfect set of properties that the GPB would have to validate Morris’s claim that the GPB is the God of religion.

 

Bibliography

 

"A Living Library of Jewish Texts." Sefaria. Accessed Jan 12, 2020. www.sefaria.org/.

Adams, Marilyn McCord, and The Society of Christian Philosophers. “Fides Quaerens Intellectum: St. Anselm’s Method in Philosophical Theology.” Faith and Philosophy 9, no. 4 (1992): 409–35. https://doi.org/10.5840/faithphil19929434.

Chignell, Andrew and Daniel Rubio. "Religion and Reason." Lectures at Princeton

University, Sep.–Dec. 2019. Notes by Andrew Arking.

Cobb, John B. and David R. Griffin, “God is Creative-Responsive Love” in Process

Theology: An Introductory Exposition. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1976.

Johnston, Mark. “Process Panentheism” in Saving God: Religion after Idolatry.

Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2009.

Leftow, Brian. “Immutability.” In The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, edited by Edward N. Zalta, Winter 2016. Metaphysics Research Lab, Stanford University, 2016. https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2016/entries/immutability/.

Mann, William E. God, Modality, and Morality. Oxford University Press, 2015. https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199370764.001.0001.

Morris, Thomas V. “The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Anselm.” Faith and Philosophy 1, no. 2 (1984): 177–187.

 

Acknowledgments     

 

            I would like to acknowledge Professors Chignell and Rubio for an excellent and thought-provoking course that has enhanced the way I think about and discuss my religious faith. I would further like to thank my teachers from Yeshivat Orayta for giving me feedback on these ideas, including Rabbi David Aaron for his teachings. Finally, I would like to appreciate Izzy Zaller for his conversations and for clarifying my understanding of many important topics.

Notes

 

 

 

[i] Andrew Chignell, “Religion and Reason,” 9/16/19.

[ii] Anselm, Proslogion 2, quoted in “Religion and Reason” lecture notes, 9/16/19.

[iii] Augustine, De Doctrina Christiana I,vi,6-vii, 7, quoted in “Religion and Reason” lecture notes, 9/16/19.

[iv] Adams and The Society of Christian Philosophers, “Fides Quaerens Intellectum.” 410.

[v] Morris, “The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Anselm.” 178.

[vi] Morris. 184.

[vii] Morris. 177.

[viii] Morris. 177.

[ix] Morris. 185.

[x] Chignell, 9/16/19.

[xi] Johnston, “Process Panentheism.” 195.

[xii] Morris, “The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Anselm.” 178.

[xiii] Morris. 186.

[xiv] Exodus 3:14.

[xv] Leftow, “Immutability.”

[xvi] Leftow.

[xvii] Ibid.

[xviii] Malachi 3:6.

[xix] Maimonides, Guide for the Perplexed Part 1, Chapter 11. www.sefaria.org.

[xx] Exodus 32:14.

[xxi] Ibn Ezra on Exodus 32:14. www.sefaria.org

[xxii] Kretzmann quoted in Leftow.

[xxiii] Daniel Rubio, 11/25/19.

[xxiv] Ibid.

[xxv] An allusion to Genesis 21:17: “God heard the cry of the boy [Ishmael], and an angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “What troubles you, Hagar? Fear not, for God has heeded the cry of the boy in his present state.” The Talmud (Rosh Hashana 16b) learns from this verse the general principle that God judges a person according to his/her present state.

[xxvi] Genesis 6:6.

[xxvii] Akeidat Yitzhak 11:1.

[xxviii] Ibid.

[xxix] This may not be embodied emotions like humans possess, but God does change attitudes and actions based on our decisions.

[xxx] Talmud Sanhedrin 46a. Likutei Moharan 5. www.sefaria.org

[xxxi] Mann, God, Modality, and Morality.

[xxxii] Maimonides, Laws of Repentance Chapter 7.

[xxxiii] Deuteronomy 11.

[xxxiv] Exodus 3.

[xxxv] Isaiah 57:15.

[xxxvi] Yoma 86b.

[xxxvii] Rabbi David Aaron, The Secret Life of God; Seeing God; Lecture notes by Andrew Arking on classes from Nov. 2018.

[xxxviii] Leftow.

[xxxix] Cobb and Griffin, 378.

[xl] Ibid., 379.

Rabbi Marc Angel Replies to Questions from the Jewish Press

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let brides and grooms rejoice, tirbena semahot beyisrael.

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

Da'as Torah May Not Be the Answer: But What is the Question?

On Friday March 13, 2020, as the coronavirus was beginning to ravage Israel’s Haredi community, R. Hayyim Kanievsky, the 92-year old acknowledged leader of the so-called Lithuanian Haredim, issued an open letter “Regarding the concern of transmission of the Corona Virus Pandemic.” “Everyone,” he wrote, “must be mechazek [strengthen themselves] to refrain from Lashon Harah [gossip] and rechilus [slander] as it states in [Talmud] Arachin 15b…They must further strengthen themselves in the midah [attribute] of humility and to be maavir al midosav [let matters pass, that is, not take umbrage] as the pirush  haRosh [commentary of the Rosh] on the side of the page says explicitly in the end of [Talmud]Horios…And the merit of one who strengthens himself in these prescriptions will protect him and his family members so that not one of them will become ill.” [i] He said nothing about social distancing, or any other orders that might have emanated from the medical community.

The following night, Motzei Shabbat March 14, Rav Kanievsky’s grandson asked his grandfather (in Hebrew) whether Cheders (elementary schools) and Yeshivot should remain open. The grandson said that the “Medineh,” that is, the Israeli government, was warning that schools should remain closed until there was a way to deal with what he called the mageifeh   (plague). R. Kanievsky, mumbled something that was not entirely audible. The grandson then said, “so the cheders should remain open?” and R. Kanievsky nodded his assent. The grandson then followed up with “and the yeshivot should remain open too?” Again the Rav agreed. The grandson never mentioned medical advice, and the rabbi never asked.

Despite personal pleas the next day from top police officials, who did refer to medical opinion,  R. Kanievsky, together with R. Gershon Edelstein, the Rosh Yeshiva (Dean) of the famed Ponevezh yeshiva in Bnai Beraq and chairman of Aguda’s Mo’etzses Gedolei Hatorah (Council of Torah Greats) issued an open letter that called for Haredi schools at all levels to remain open though it did acknowledge the need for certain precautions. The letter began with a clarion call that no Haredi was likely to ignore:

“In a time when we are in grave need of great heavenly mercy to maintain the health of our nation, certainly it is proper to strengthen ourselves in the study of Torah, to be careful in committing slander (Lashon HaRah and Rechilus), and to strengthen ourselves in humility and to judge everyone favorably….Our sages have already stated (Yuma 28b), “Since the days of our forefathers, the Yeshivos have never ceased [to be active] from them.  They further stated (Shabbos 119b):  The world only exists on account of the sounds of children in the house of their Rebbe [yeshivos].  They are the greatest insurance possible that the destroyer not enter into the homes of Israel [my emphasis].”

The letter then made some allowances for the reality of the epidemic, calling for schools and yeshivot to split up students; ensure “that there is adequate space between person [social distancing – recommended at 2 meters” and that “classrooms and Batei Midrashim [study halls] be properly ventilated; and to appoint supervisors [Mashgichim] to maintain the proper level of cleanliness as a health necessity.” It also called upon educators to ensure that no one who was meant to be under quarantine, or had a family member under quarantine, was to enter the Beit Midrash.

The two rabbinical leaders then observed that “This is all from the perspective of an understood precondition to the action [of attending school or Yeshiva]. The Roshei Yeshiva [Deans] and the administrators of the Talmud Torahs (and Yeshivos) must be on guard to ensure compliance.” The letter did not specify whether “compliance” meant compliance with health regulations, or compliance with the directive to keep the yeshivot open. The letter then concluded with the admonition that “we must have faith in the Holy One Blessed Be He who watches over all His creations, and no man is stricken by a calamity if it was not decreed from Above.  And may the merit of Torah and all that strengthen us stand for us as protection and salvation.”[ii]

The letter prompted a major outcry over the danger into which the aged rabbi and his Ponevezh colleague had placed youngsters and their families and led to his reversal two weeks later. By then, however, considerable damage may have been done. Though it was unknown, indeed unknowable to what extent his ruling resulted in more coronavirus carriers and more Covid-19 deaths in Bnai Beraq, Jerusalem’s Haredi neighborhoods, and other Haredi enclaves such as Beitar Ilit, there was little doubt that the letter had added to the roster of both carriers and death.

It was also reported that Kupat Ha’ir, a charity based in Bnai Beraq that raises funds by offering to have young Haredi scholars pray at the kotel for all sorts of personal requests made by the donors, was advertising, in R. Kanievsky’s name, that donors who paid the shekel equivalent of $836 would “enjoy immunity from the coronavirus for themselves and their families.”[iii] This appeal for funds simply reinforced the intent of R. Kanievsky’s original edict of 13 March.

On April 20, shortly after the conclusion of Pesach, it was reported that R. Kanievsky had ordered the schools and yeshivot once again to open their doors but that R. Edelstein had put a hold on its publication. The latter denied that was the case, however, and instead, the two rabbis issued a second letter that revealed their impatience, warning that  if there will not be a response [to reopen the Yeshivot] and the foot dragging continues without real progress, the great Torah sages [of Agudah] will consider drastic action.”[iv]

Meanwhile the virus continued to rage in Israel generally, and among the Haredim in particular. Though Haredim accounted for perhaps 12 percent of the Israeli population, it was estimated that they accounted for as much as 50 percent of all hospital beds in the country. No wonder that R. Kanievsky’s edicts in response to the country’s health crisis prompted outrage among Israel’s non-Haredi elements.

At long last, in recognition of the depth of the crisis confronting the Haredi community no less than the entire Israeli population, the two rabbinic leaders, acting with the government’s consent, appointed a special task force consisting of  two younger rabbinic leaders, R. Shraga Shteinman, son of R. Kanievsky’s predecessor as leader of the “Lithuanian” Haredim, R. Aryeh Lev Shteinman (and R. Kanievsky’s son-in-law), and R. Baruch Dov Diskin, scion of another leading Haredi rabbinic family, together with Dr. Meshulam Hirt, “the Gedolim’s physician,” to examine ways to reopen schools in compliance with government directives. The task force issued its initial guidance on May 3, recommending that higher elementary grades and above could reopen under strict conditions mandated by the government. R. Kanievsky endorsed the task force recommendations.

For Haredim, Rav Kanievsky’s views were not merely the opinions of a wise leader. They were Da’as Torah[v] and thus had the imprimatur of the Divine.[vi] At a minimum, it was asserted in some quarters that if the rabbi had erred—and no one would dare say that he had—it was because he was so enmeshed in his studies that he did not fully realize the extent of the threat that the virus posed to Israeli society.

The problem, however, was not with R. Kanievsky’s initial responses. It was with the way the matter had been put to him.

Haredim and “The Medinah”

After 72 years of existence as a state, a consequential portion of the Haredi community has yet to recognize the reality of what they term “the Medinah.” Nothing has changed since 1912, when Yaakov Rosenheim convened the first Agudas Yisrael conference in Kattowitz (Katowice), then part of Germany, in no small part as a reaction to a decision by the Tenth Zionist Congress not to fund religious schools. Rosenheim envisaged Agudah as an umbrella organization for all religious Jews. While he never fully realized his dream, the organization did emerge as a major locus for opposition to Zionism. Not coincidentally, Da’as Torah also became enshrined in the Agudas Yisrael platform. Indeed, Agudah created a Council of Torah Giants (Mo’etses Gedolei HaTorah), whose pronouncements on all matters, whether Halachic or secular, were treated as authoritative and binding upon all religious Jews. And the Council was overwhelmingly anti-Zionist.

During the First World War, when Germany occupied parts of Russian Poland, leading German rabbis, notably Rabbi Dr. Emmanuel Carlebach, coordinated their activities with the Gerer Rebbe, Rabbi Avraham Mordechai Alter, one of the most prominent Hasidic leaders. Like the German rabbis, and indeed, Hasidic admorim (Grand Rabbis) of all stripes, R. Alter was hostile not only to secular Zionism, but also to religious Zionism, which was organized under the umbrella of the Mizrahi movement.

The Agudah leadership allied itself with the representatives of the so-called “Old Yishuv,” the long-standing Haredi community of Palestine, most of whose members resided in the older districts of Jerusalem and Tsefat. These Jews were violently opposed to the influx of Zionist settlers into what after 1918 became a British mandate. Not surprisingly, the Agudah leadership aligned itself with the leaders of the Old Yishuv who in 1937 testified before the British Peel Commission in opposition to the creation of a Jewish State.

Needless to say, Agudah invoked Da’as Torah in its opposition to Zionism and the notion of a Jewish State. In so doing, it was claiming heavenly support for what was essentially a political position. This was  consistent with the view, articulated by R. Yisroel Meir Kagan, best known as  Hofetz Hayyim, and subsequent rabbinic leaders such as  the late Rosh Yeshiva of the Mirer yeshiva, R. Nosson Zvi Finkel that Da’as Torah was as binding with respect to non-Halakhic matters as to Halakhic ones. As R. Finkel put it, “when a great man offers either advice or a ruling, Emunas Hakhamim [belief in the Sages][vii] mandates that one can neither hesitate nor doubt. This is Da’as Torah and this is how it should be.”[viii]

Agudah had no choice but to come to terms with the Jewish state once its leaders declared its independence in 1948. There was a sense among Haredim, as among some secular Jews, however, that the State would not survive more than a decade or at most fifteen years,[ix] but for the moment, Agudah felt it had no choice but to transform itself into an Israeli political party. Nevertheless, in so doing it did not relinquish its refusal to come to terms with the secular state. It refused to join government coalitions, or to allow its representatives to hold ministerial posts, though through a sleight-of-hand ruling, the Council of Torah Greats permitted Agudah’s representatives in the Knesset to serve as Deputy Ministers. These men often acted as de facto ministers, and in some “emergency” cases, held full ministerial portfolios.

Agudah’s participation in Israeli political affairs did not extend to other aspects of Israeli society, however, particularly army service. The Haredi leadership viewed the army’s secular, assimilationist orientation as the leading threat both to its values and to its control of the community. Thanks to an agreement between Agudah’s acknowledged leader, R. Abraham Isaiah Karelitz, popularly known by the title of his works as Hazon Ish, and Prime Minister David Ben Gurion , yeshiva students were exempted from service in the Israeli Defense Forces. The agreement enabled Haredi leaders to maintain at least some semblance of a wall between their adherents and the rest of Israeli society, and to underscore their fundamental and principled opposition to what they termed “the Medinah.” It is in the context of this opposition that R. Kanievsky’s edict must be seen.

The Mantle of Haredi Leadership

Not all Haredim are anti-Zionist. In 1984 the great Sephardi leader R. Ovadia Yosef led his followers out of the main Ashkenazi Haredi political parties, and created the Shas Party with its own Council of Torah Sages (Motetset Hakhmei HaTorah). Shas displayed a more sympathetic attitude toward the state, including having its Knesset members serve as full ministers in the government.

Even among Ashkenazi Haredim, however, there is no common stance vis a vis “the Medineh.”  Although they share a common antipathy to Zionism, Haredi leadership is not vested solely in Agudah’s Council of Torah Greats. In particular, the Eidah Haredis, successors to the Old Yishuv, is far more vociferously, and far too often violently, opposed to the Jewish State. Moreover, whereas the majority of Haredi yeshivot do not hesitate to receive financial support from the State’s coffers, some –such as the Brisker yeshiva, following the leadership of its late dean, R. Yosef Zev Soloveichik—refuse to take any state funds. Nevertheless, whatever their differences, the vast majority of Ashkenazim look to a single leader for guidance, Da’as Torah, on major political and social issues.  Until his passing, Hazon Ish was that leader.

Hazon Ish rose to his position of prominence on the passing in 1940 of his brother-in-law, R. Hayyim Ozer Grodzinski, who had in turn succeeded Hofetz Hayyim as the acknowledged leader of the Lithuanian Haredi world. Familial ties among the Lithuanian Haredi leadership continue to this day: R. Kanievsky was not only a student of the Hazon Ish, but also his nephew.  And, as has been noted, R. Shraga Shteinmann, whom R. Kanievsky appointed to the coronavirus task force, is the latter’s son-in-law.

 At 93, R. Kanievsky represents the tendency of the Lithuanian Haredim to recognize as supreme leaders of the movement nonogenarians or even centenarians. Thus, R. Kanievski’s predecessor, R. Aryeh Yehuda Leib Shteinman was niftar (passed away) in 2017 at the age of 103, while his own predecessor, R. Sholom Yisef Elyashiv died at the age of 102. R. Elyashiv’s predecessor, R. Elazar Menachem Man Shach, likewise was 102 when he was niftar.

Is the problem the answer, the question, or the system?

The Torah teaches that Moses was as much in control of all his faculties on the day he died at the age of 120, as when he was a much younger man. That is not necessarily the case with other older persons, even if they are great scholars. It is arguable that by the time they reach their nineties, even leading Halakhic experts may have lost half a mental step. They might comprehend what is being asked of them, indeed, their replies may reflect their decades of Torah knowledge. Nevertheless, they may not have the mental acuity to probe all facets of whatever issue is brought before them, as they may have been able to do as recently as a decade earlier.

It is well known that Haredi leaders surround themselves—or are surrounded by—men who are collectively known as askanim. In the words of R. David Stav, leader of the moderate Orthodox Tzohar movement, askanim are “a small group of Haredi askanim who, because of their own personal interests, make Judaism and Haredi society hateful to Israelis." [x] R. Dov Lipman, an American-born moderate Haredi who served for a period as a Knesset member, outlined the power of these men:

“The issue of the gedolim Torah greats] is very largely the askanim who surround them…Askanim are the community activists and assistants who normally surround the leading rabbis and act as a buffer between them and the communities they lead. They [Torah greats] are totally controlled by people around them and that’s the biggest problem….[xi]

These askanim clearly take advantage of elderly rabbis, putting questions to them in much the same way as pollsters with a particular political bias will put questions to their respondents. Not surprisingly, manipulative questioners will elicit pronouncements that are in line with what they want to hear. And since those pronouncements have the force of unchallengeable law for the Haredi community, they are in effect empowering their questioners to ride roughshod over that community.

This appears to have been the case when R. Kanievsky’s grandson, with one of the askanim standing over his shoulder, asked his grandfather whether yeshivot and elementary cheders should remain open. He did not explain clearly that not just the “Medineh,” but doctors had argued for such closures. Had he done so, R. Kanievsky would immediately have recognized that the issue was one of pikuach nefesh, saving lives. Without a doubt, had R. Kanievsky been asked whether schools should be closed to save lives, his answer would have been in the affirmative. After all, Halakha is unambiguous with respect to this issue; indeed, Halakha posits that even the remote possibility of life being endangered justifies violating the Torah.[xii] Indeed, once R. Kanievsky fully fathomed the severity of the crisis, he did call upon a trusted doctor, along with respected Haredi rabbis, to devise an approach that satisfied both the requirement to maintain safety and the objective of studying Torah. It was the word “Medineh” that had acted as a red flag to the aged rabbi and prompted his initial response.

The Challenge for the Haredi world

Modern Orthodox Jews do not recognize Da’as Torah outside the bounds of Halakha. They look to specialists, for example in the military or medical realms, for guidance on purely secular issues. They justify their attitude both because rabbinic greats ranging from R. Joseph B. Soloveichik to R. Ovadia  Yosef took this view, and because Da’as Torah has been on the wrong side of Jewish history in multiple occasions, failing the Jewish people at critical times in the recent past. These include opposing immigration to America or Israel when it was still possible before the invasion of Poland; opposition to the creation of the State of Israel; and opposition to public demonstrations to free Soviet Jewry. For the Modern Orthodox, therefore, Haredi rulings concerning responses to the coronavirus epidemic had little impact.

Moreover, not all Haredi leaders are as closed to the outside world, and therefore as vulnerable to askanim. The recently departed Novominsker Rebbe, R.  Yaakov Perlow, who died due to the coronavirus, graduated with honors from Brooklyn College![xiii] A group of Hasidic admorim and rabbonim residing in Boro Park, Brooklyn and led by R. Perlow, issued a proclamation on the eve of Pesach outlining the importance of maintaining government restrictions even at the cost of hallowed Passover traditions.

On the other hand, as noted at the outset of this essay, contrary pronouncements by Haredi rabbinic leaders have had a devastating effect on the community. Indeed, the outsized impact of the coronavirus on the Haredi population has affected all Israelis, since Haredim occupy a disproportionate percentage of hospital beds. The community, whether in Israel, the United States or elsewhere therefore needs to re-evaluate how to structure its leadership. In particular, if it will continue to treat the words of aged leaders as inviolable law it must take steps to rid itself of the scourge of askanim. The lesson of Israel’s hospital bed crisis is that doing so not only will enhance the welfare of Haredim, but will also redound to the benefit of the Jewish community as a whole.

 

 

 

 

[i] Translation of the Hebrew, reprinted in David Zer, “MESSAGE FROM THE GADOL HADOR: Rav Chaim Kanievsky’s Instructions on How to Protect Yourself and Loved Ones,” The Yeshiva World (March 13, 2020), https://www.theyeshivaworld.com/news/featured/1839688/message-from-the-gadol-hador-rav-chaim-kanievskys-instructions-on-how-to-protect-yourself-and-loved-ones.html.

[iii] Jacob Magid, “Charity tied to top rabbi raises cash with promise of immunity from coronavirus” (Times of Israel, April 18, 2020). https://www.timesofisrael.com/charity-tied-to-top-rabbi-raises-cash-with-promise-of-immunity-from-coronavirus/

[iv] TOI staff and Jacob Magid, “Top Haredi rabbi Kanievsky orders yeshivas opened; his colleague blocks him – TV” (Times of Israel, April 22, 2020). https://www.timesofisrael.com/top-haredi-rabbis-threaten-drastic-steps-if-no-way-found-to-open-yeshivas/

[v] When citing Haredi statements or concepts, this essay employs Haredi Ashkenazi pronunciation.

[vi] For a discussion, see Lawrence Kaplan, “Daas Torah,” in Moshe Z. Sokol, ed. Rabbinic Authority and Personal Autonomy (Lanham, MD and Boulder, CO: Rowman&Littlefield, 2006), 1-60,  and Dov S. Zakheim, “Emunat Hahamim, Da’at Torah and National Security,” Conversations 30 (Winter 2018/5778), 78-93.

[vii] When citing the writings and names of leaders of the Yeshiva World I employ their “Ashkenazis” pronunciation, since that is how both the authors and their intended audience will pronounce what is written.

[viii] R. Nosson Zvi Finkel, “Sihos Mussar,” in Yeshurun 27 (Elul 5772/September 2012), 373.

[ix] See R. Hayyim Shlomo Leibovitz, “Hashpo’as HaTorah” Yeshurun 38 (Kislev 5777/December 2016), 328. Interestingly, R. Yosef Zev Soloveichik postulated at the time that “if they [i.e. the Israeli government] will permit yeshiva students to study and not serve in the military, then the state will survive in the merit of the exemption they are granting to yeshiva students.” Ibid.

[xii] R. Yosef Karo Shulhan Aruch: Orah Hayyim 329:2; R. Meir Kagan, Mishna Berurah, ad. loc., s.v. kemehtza; R. Moshe Feinstein, Igros Moshe: Orah Hayyim I: 132.

[xiii] Sam Roberts, “The We’ve Lost: Rabbi Yaakov Perlow, Head of Hasidic Dynasty in Brooklyn, Dies at 89,” The New York Times (April 16, 2020), https://www.nytimes.com/2020/04/10/obituaries/rabbi-yaakov-perlow-dead.html

 

The Yemima Method: An Israeli Psychological-Spiritual Approach

The Yemima Method: An Israeli Psychological-Spiritual Approach[1]

 

by Yael Unterman

     Let me begin by stating that along with a deep suspicion of charismatic figures, I recognize the value of having a good teacher in one’s life. At its deeply Hassidic apotheosis, this latter side of me yearns to have someone to call “rebbe,” with all the baggage that that word brings. I have, in fact, been fortunate to have had several people to call my rebbe so far. Of these, two recent and prominent ones are women, who passed away in 1997 and 1999.[2] 

The first is Nehama Leibowitz (1905–1997). After ten years spent writing and immersing in her biography and her Torah,[3] I presume I can call her my rebbe

     However, I truly learned what having a rebbe is from Yemima Avital (1929–1999). Very little is known about this special individual’s biography.[4] Born in Casablanca, Morocco in 1929 to a religiously observant family of kabbalists, Yemima made aliya at age 20 to Be’er Sheva. There she married, before  completing Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees in French literature and psychology. She subsequently moved to Tel Aviv where she studied psychology at Tel Aviv University and began healing treatments in her house, along with teaching a new approach in emotional management to groups of students. In 1987, she founded Machon Ma’ayan in Herzliya to disseminate her therapeutic teachings, which coalesced into a method that officially goes under the title Hashivah hakaratit, “Cognitive/Awareness Thinking,” and unofficially Shitat Yemima, “The Yemima method.”[5]

     Yemima was not your run-of-the-mill teacher. She viewed herself as a channel for heavenly teachings that descended through her. She taught while covered in white scarves, sitting at first behind a curtain and then actually a full story above her students. This was so that the students’ attention would be focused on her message and not on her, to prevent the cult of personality from developing[6]—and also because she claimed to be able to “see” things about her students, which she found distracting when in their proximity.[7] People reported that she told them things about themselves that she could not have known, and she purportedly healed people of terminal diseases.[8] And yet her actual topics were not mystical at all, but rather focused on the basic building blocks of how a person functions emotionally, and how this functioning can be improved, for greater happiness, wellbeing, and centeredness.

     If asked what her influences were, I would have to say that I do not precisely know what these were, and I have not come across anyone listing them. If forced to hazard a guess, apart from heavenly inspiration, I’d assume both psychological knowledge (from her studies) and Jewish knowledge (from her background) played large roles in her work. Suffice it to quote one psychologist very familiar with her work, who notes that Yemima’s emphasis on one’s responsibility to the collective separates her from the discipline of psychology: “According to Yemima, you are obligated to fix your soul. It’s not a luxury, because all of Israel is responsible one for the other.”[9]

     Jewish ideas play a significant role in Yemima’s work. On the one hand, they are embedded in her teachings only sporadically: a few verses on the role of men or women, on loving your fellow as yourself, or on the essential meaning of Jewish holidays.[10] The sessions with her could not be described as shiurim or Torah classes in the classic sense. Her lessons would be discovered to be instructions for conscious self-work and psychological balance, containing unique terminology and catchphrases. Yet her acolytes would categorically claim that her system was connected to Jewish spirituality and Torah, or even revealed the inner meaning of the Torah to this generation. One student explains: “You can study ‘Yemima’ only in order to be calmer and happier and you do not necessarily touch spirituality or religion. But from the beginning, there are very specific and deep connections to Jewish spirituality hidden in the teachings, which one can understand only in subsequent stages.”[11] Indeed, a significant number of students became ba’alei teshuvah through Yemima.[12]

     I will return to this topic soon. First, though, I’ll bring some examples of her terminology to give a sense of her approach. One key term is “diyuk” (precision), meaning the precise action required in or by the moment. Taking into account the entire picture, and separating yourself as far as possible from your baggage, you arrive at the understanding of what is the most correct or highest course of action to take. 

     Of particular interest to me was the fact that while this action will sometimes involve giving to others, the question the student is encouraged to consider from the outset is, “What is precise and right for me?,” thus prioritizing one’s own needs.[13] Though this might seem at first blush to encourage selfishness—and indeed initially seemed so to me—in fact, Yemima was helping people (and religious women in particular[14]) to rebalance a socialized tendency to put others first that leaves them drained and dysfunctional. Amongst a number of mottos and pithy maxims that she coined was the saying: “I need to give to myself in order to give to others,” echoing Hillel’s statements in Pirkei Avot.[15] We learn how to give to others by learning how to how to give to ourselves; and giving to ourselves, when this is done with diyuk, can positively influence others around us.[16] Thus the intent was not to boost self-absorption; far from it.[17] For myself I can say that it was only when studying the Yemima method that I first discovered that it was not only legitimate but also crucial to attend to my own needs—a lesson that laid the foundations for my life and strengthened me immeasurably. 

     Yemima employed a number of other terms and concepts relating to emotional functioning, including: omess (literally “(over)load,” referring to emotional baggage and unconscious defense mechanisms from childhood); tihum veHafradah (creating boundaries and separation from the baggage); hakarah pe’ilah (active awareness); and regesh leKiyumi (positive feelings toward one’s own existence). Further terms she used included identifying, self-acceptance, coming close to oneself, not becoming entangled with others, and many more, repeating themselves in myriad ways throughout the lessons. Her general approach was that the human psychology is fundamentally positive.[18] She did not encourage picking at childhood wounds, but rather contemplating negative emotions as they arose in real time.[19]

     Yemima often commented on the relationships between her students and their parents and how pain from those early relationships should not be carried over into the present day. She directed her students to separate between negative behavior acquired through childhood omess and mahoot, the real essence of the human being which is of a good nature and well-constructed.[20] “The main purpose of her theory,” notes scholar Tsippi Kauffman, “is quite prosaic: to be able to listen and respond calmly to everyone who turns to us, to be able to stay emotionally balanced in the face of every event in life.”[21] This is done by creating a separation between the omess and the aware observing self, which can then, in the space created, expand into wellbeing, good, and self-love. This is what a person’s genuine self looks like, when finally free of omess.[22] One practitioner, a clinical psychologist, reported: “The baseline of my life rose to a higher level. I don’t fall down as much. I am a much happier person. I don’t hear this constant disturbing buzz of pain and bitterness that I did before I started.”[23]

     Yemima’s teaching was given over in halakim, “portions”;[24] the word “portion” indeed subsequently became the official name for any Yemima teaching. The portions were like “therapeutic conversations” addressed in second- or third-person singular. Yemima explained: “A ‘portion’ can awaken understandings that separate between the omess that creates distance from the sought-for balance. The more she strives to be accurate, the more likely that she will discover the blockages. The mending also mends the body.”[25] Her students would write these down as she spoke—often struggling to keep up with her pace, the speed of regular speech—and subsequently use them as a springboard for their own personal reflection, which would also be done in writing and shared with others.

     For Yemima, writing was an essential part of the practice, creating a necessary point of distance and reflection, and aiding the cleansing of baggage,[26] as well as serving to intensify the impression left by those things written about upon the field of awareness.[27] When writing one’s personal understandings of the portion, one is directed to examine one’s heart and being. Sharing such writings with the group leads to rich mutual gain. And when this sharing was done with Yemima herself, it could at times actually trigger other portions to come down to her.[28]

This writing took place for the most part with old-fashioned pen and paper. Due to this, many of these portions remain unpublished. She left behind no written legacy per se;[29] but her teachings are recorded in the notebooks of those students who went on to teach others from them. Occasionally, the portions reflected current events at the time of writing.[30] Some of the writings have now made their way onto the internet and Facebook.[31] Today the Yemima method continues to be taught all over Israel by her students,[32] as well as by students of students, using the same technique of dictating Yemima’s portions and then reflecting upon them for their specific personal relevance in the moment. 

     Yemima died in 1999, and I jumped on the bandwagon too late to meet her. But circa 2005 I spent a year and a half studying with a student of hers, Sara Schwartz, in the Nahlaot neighborhood of Jerusalem. This study was, as mentioned, life-changing, helping me to find balance and to be intentional in every moment’s “diyuk.” Our job is, I learned, simply to ascertain what the diyuk is, time after time, moment after moment. It was during this time that I grasped, probably for the first time in my life, what it means to have a rebbe. The way I articulated it to myself back then was, “there is someone who is so far above you in understanding that all you can do is grab onto their coat-tails and begin to soar.”[33] 

     While this experience of discovering a female rebbe for myself stood out as unique for me then, I was, unbeknownst to me, far from being alone in this when it came to Yemima. Many of those in contact her with her viewed her as the female version of the Hassidic tzaddik: the tzadeket.[34] It’s not for nothing that Yemima has been called the “Rebbe Nahman of our time.”[35] Both Rebbe Nahman and Yemima contributed profound and surprising insights into the workings of the inner world, and transmitted texts with the power to heal overwhelmed or broken souls.[36] Miracle stories were also told about her, such as wilted flowers coming back to life in her presence;[37] but I knew nothing of that (and, with my anti-groupthink tendencies, better so!). All I knew was the wisdom and insight I experienced, that had the power to cleanse my inner encrustations in a way I had never experienced.

     Tsippi Kauffman is an academic and scholar of Hassidism who, prior to her untimely passing in September 2019, was researching the connections between the Hassidic movement and Yemima’s work. She is the author of one of the very few scholarly articles about her, which I have cited extensively in this article. (A long-time friend, she was also the person who introduced me to the Yemima method in the first place; it is marvelous for me to read her sensitive academic analysis of something that was, for both of us, a meaningful experience that we shared as friends way back when). In the course of her article, Kauffman credits Yemima with founding “a contemporary Hassidic female movement.” She argues that while we could categorize Yemima and her method under the title of “new age” or other contemporary spiritual practices, the correct classification is as a Hassidic approach proper. The criteria Kauffman cites to support her claim are the existence of: (a) a goal of personal redemption; (b) a tzaddik mediator; (c) a method of mediation that conforms to the mystic-magic model; (d) the uniqueness of communal mysticism; and (e) an immanent theology.[38] 

      Einat Ramon, author of another very helpful article cited here, suggests that what Yemima did was to take Hassidic teachings one step further and to a more pragmatically-oriented approach, employing their language in the daily spiritual discipline (melakha) of recording personal-emotional observations, and creating her own idiosyncratic language along the way.[39] Oded David, a teacher of Yemima’s method, has termed it an “Israeli-kabbalistic creation,” but without further elaboration or explanation.[40] It should also be noted that not everyone took kindly to her innovation of a new approach with neither Torah precedent, rabbinical chain of tradition, nor approval from leading rabbinical figures.[41] Kauffman deliberately terms Yemima’s school of thought a Hassidic-female one (and specifically female, but not feminist).[42] Although Yemima taught men, too—separately from the women—many of whom connected to her teachings and went on to become teachers themselves, the women represented the majority and continue to do so. If Kauffman’s claim is correct, then we can note that in leading a Hassidic spiritual movement as a woman, with chiefly women followers and also some men, Yemima is unique in the Jewish landscape.[43] For those who claim that the rise in the feminine augurs messianic times, she represents another step towards global redemption.[44] This helps to pinpoint, too, how she differed from my other rebbe, Nehama Leibowitz, who appealed to both women and men equally, and also led no movement per se—and certainly not a Hassidic one.

     The momentum of Yemima’s teaching did not abate after her death. On the contrary, it picked up steam and continues to do so. On Thursday, May 30, 2019, I found myself at an event marking her twentieth yahrzeit, apparently the first of its kind. I walked into the grounds of a beautiful home in Gimzo, a religious moshav in central Israel: to my left, a barn containing several beautiful horses; to my right, a table selling Yemima paraphernalia. All around me, women milled around, dressed in colorful clothing, many sporting headscarves. Most were dressed in religious women’s clothing; some more modern and some less so, along with a small minority that were dressed in less traditional fashion. Regardless of their religious identification, what is certain is that every one of these women was interested in a path of personal growth, infused with a unique spiritual quality.

     After an introduction by our hostess and owner of the lovely house, Edit Shalev, a psychotherapist and Yemima teacher and practitioner, we split off into groups for workshops. The workshop I attended, by Avital Bar-Am, was based on what has apparently become known as the Yemima prayer, a “portion” containing the repeating phrase yehi ratzon, “May it come to pass.” As is typical in Yemima’s writings, the sentences are somewhat obscure and not always grammatically coherent. Here is a snippet, which will also provide a taste of a session studying Yemima’s teaching (my translation is inadequate in conveying the full force of her language): 

 

May it come to pass that we all merit the genuinely good, in truth.

May it come to pass that your heart shall cease its crying, and you will know happiness in it. 

And that you shall be happy, too, in the profound understanding of existence. 

And that you shall sleep well at night, and arise happy again, and that you will understand differently. 

That you will understand the heart and what occurred and also your parents, to know them well, the good in them and what is not good, if such there is, it is not your business. 

Live your existence. 

Then there will be within you a secure awareness of quiet existence, of whole existence. 

Light that flourishes grows from your deeds.

 

     As with every Yemima class, the teacher initially dictated Yemima’s words and we wrote them down verbatim. We then scrutinized the sentences and attempted to decipher them. Participants were asked for their personal understandings of the phrase “the understanding of existence that goes deep/deepens” (havanat haKiyum haMa’amik).

     Avital then shared what she drew out of this prayer, what she defined as a surefire and accessible recipe for happiness: to do things piece by piece. If we internalize that the world is inherently imperfect, and that our job is simply to engage with those small units of goodness that are in our reach, implementing them steadily act by act, then we will be content in life, for these units are indeed within our grasp. She cited the Baal Shem Tov’s statement (concerning God’s oneness) that when you grasp a part, you have grasped the whole.[45] She related this to the idea that in doing our work incrementally, we will also be led to a gradual and steady cleansing and purification of our hearts; and hence to much joy. This, for Yemima, is the understanding of the ever-deepening existence and journey of life, which is to be found not in large gestures but in the daily portion of good work. Similarly, I recall to this day, after so many years, my own teacher quoting Yemima as saying, “May it be [halevai] that I may carry out my diyuk, like a simple laborer, day by day.” After all, what else is there?

     Following this, we heard a few short TED-style talks from different speakers. Tsippi Kauffman noted lines of similarity between the thinking of the Baal Shem Tov and Yemima. Aluma Lev, a popular young teacher, spoke about the gap between understanding and implementation, between awareness and emotion—likening it to two children on a school hike, with thought being the child that eagerly runs ahead of the bunch, skipping over rocks, whereas emotion is the child most often found lagging behind, heavy and awkward. “They don’t even see the same landscape,” she noted poignantly. 

     Ilan Haran, one of the few men present, then took the microphone and recounted the beginnings of his relationship with Yemima.  When Ilan, secular and successfully working in hi-tech, first heard Yemima’s name, both he and his wife were curious. His wife was the first to attend a lesson with Yemima, and responded afterwards to his “Nu?” with the words, “I didn’t understand anything; but it was nice.” The following week she gave a similar report, and seemed to want to continue. At this point, her husband decided to go see for himself. “I pride myself on speaking Hebrew fluently,” he informed us, “but I couldn’t comprehend in the least bit what was being said! Yet there was something special there. At the time I was not familiar with the concept of ‘light,’ but there was light there, so I continued.” 

     This journey was ultimately to bring Ilan to religion. He would familiarize himself with, and become part of, the light he had sensed initially but did not understand. This was true for many, though not all, of her students. Yemima was not an outreach (“kiruv”) teacher; she taught tools for improved mental wellbeing and cognitive and emotional functioning, of benefit to all. Yet Kauffman observes that people living according to the method reported feeling bathed in light, experiencing “openness to another dimension of reality, of spiritual life, of revealing the divine spark. They say that by being ‘in their place’ (al mekoman) according to Yemima’s teaching, they encounter ‘The Place’ (Ha-Makom), which means God in the Sages’ language.”[46] 

     Yemima referred to the generation of her students as “the generation of confusion,” indicating that many of the Jewish spiritual values had become blurred during the generation born and raised after the establishment of the State of Israel. She perceived this as due to  increased polarization of both secular and religious extremes.[47] Her work was clearly an attempt to moderate this ill. 

     Today, as noted, thousands of women and men continue to study the Yemima method,[48] including an entire new generation of millennials, for whose self-reflective/self-improving tendencies and emotional sensitivities the method is very well suited. She is often quoted by those active in the fledgling field of livuy ruhani (pastoral or spiritual care/chaplaincy) in Israel.[49] Her terminology has actually crept into day-to-day language in certain circles. Devotees of her method include high-profile Israeli celebrities such as Etti Ankri, Avri Gilad, and Shlomo Artzi. Her adherents span the religious spectrum and encompass many types.[50]

     However, Yemima’s work has not become known widely in the English-speaking world. Ilan Haran reports that, as a fluent English speaker, when he tried to convey Yemima’s portions in English, “the language was transmitted, but none of the light came through with it.” Thus, those wanting to study Yemima in depth will, for the most part, need to do so in Hebrew.[51]

 

 

[1] This is a slightly modified version of an article that appeared at the Lehrhaus: https://thelehrhaus.com/timely-thoughts/the-yemima-method-an-israeli-psychological-spiritual-approach/.

[2] It’s likely no coincidence that two of my primary influences are women who are no longer alive, and who, when they were, made strenuous efforts to reduce the personality cult (they both prohibited recording of their lessons, and assiduously avoided being photographed), and place the focus on their teachings. How we could wish that all teachers would safeguard themselves likewise from the highly destructive ego trip that can accompany great teaching and spiritual talent. The Israelite king was commanded to wear a Torah on his arm in order to remember heaven above; perhaps we should instigate a modern equivalent, to prevent arrogance, in the spirit of Novardok? Let us also beware of placing people on pedestals. A pedestal is not a suitable base for a living, growing, and moving individual to stand upon, and limits him or her as much as it does us.

[3] The result of my labors was published as Nehama Leibowitz: Teacher and Bible Scholar (Jerusalem: Urim Publications, 2009).

[4] Many of these biographical details are taken from Einat Ramon, “Gratitude, Israeli Spiritual Care and Contemporary Hassidic Teachers: The Theme of Thankfulness in the Works of Rabbis Brazofsky (the Netivot Shalom), Rav Arush and Yemima Avital,” Alternative Spirituality and Religion Review 5 (2014): 91–92 (accessible at http://www.schwartz-center.org/wp-content/uploads/Gratitude-Israeli-Spiritual-Care-and-Contemporary-Hassidic-Ramon.pdf); and also Tsippi Kauffman, “The Yemima Method as a Contemporary Hassidic Female Movement,” Modern Judaism 32:2 (2012): 195–215 (available for download at www.academia.edu).

[5] Edit Shalev, a prominent Yemima practitioner who will be mentioned later in this essay, rejects the term “method”: “There really is no ‘method’ because if you call it a method you miss the depth and the delicacy that is impossible to transmit.” (Quoted in Micha Odenheimer, “Studying ‘Yamima’,” Haaretz (February 25, 2005). Accessible at https://www.haaretz.com/1.4755102? Odenheimer spells Yemima’s name throughout his article as “Yamima,” but for consistency’s sake I will spell it Yemima, even when quoting him directly).

[6] Ramon, 92. She also took care to disperse authority by not singling out one successor to take over after her death—see Kauffman, 196, 202. However, it is true that she had a community of students around her who held her in awe and engaged in the language of adulation, similar to that reserved for saints. This, together with the specialized terminology used in her method, does create a certain cultish atmosphere. Fortunately, I encountered and benefited from her teachings before being exposed to all of this.

[7] Kauffman, 196. Odenheimer writes: “She saw too much, saw into their souls, and it distracted her, broke her concentration.” He notes that she would sometimes reprimand a student, with “Don’t look at me!” Or, sensing that a student was thinking about her, say: “Stop, don’t think about me, think about what I am telling you!” “You’re too emotionally turbulent,” she would sometimes say to her students in the middle of receiving teachings from a higher dimension. “The words have stopped—they’re not coming down anymore.”

[8] She devoted two days a week to healing and prayers for the sick, including traveling to hospitals in order to stand in prayer near patients’ beds. See Kauffman, 196.

[9] Odenheimer.

[10] Ramon, 93.

[11] Quoted in Kauffman, 199.

[12] Odenheimer: “By all accounts, Yemima did not urge people to return to Jewish observance. The lessons she dictated to her students did not include religious instructions or admonitions; they can be studied and practiced by religious and nonreligious alike. And yet hundreds of people who were influenced by her personality and ideas have ‘returned’ to Jewish practice in some form or another. Most, but not all, of the 20 or so Yemima disciples who she encouraged to teach her writings and methods are observant, although a significant number of them were not when they began to study with her.”

[13] “Precision regarding oneself comes first. That means striving to find the golden path between self-rejection (over-criticizing oneself or ceding too much) and rejecting others” (Ramon, 94; this is her translation of a passage from the book published by Yishai Avital, Yemima’s son, Torat YemimaFour Lessons of Introduction (Be’er Sheva), 4).

[14] Religious people in general are brought up to give to others, and religious women in particular may pay a high price in terms of healthy selfhood. Kauffman suggests a comparison with women’s consciousness-raising groups of the 1960s and onward, and writes: “Yemima’s students also learn to be ‘centered,’ to stay… in their selfhood, to be able to conduct relationships while drawing border lines between the self and the other… that sacrificing one’s needs is not a prerequisite for the wellbeing of those one loves. The learning enables them to make different kinds of choices seen previously as impossible or immoral” (204–205).

[15]  “If I am not for myself, who am I? And yet if I am only for myself, what am I?” (Pirkei Avot 1:14). I heard it suggested in the name of teacher Neta Lederberg that this core principle of Yemima’s constitutes a kind of restatement of Hillel’s famous maxim. Her diyuk concept, which changes moment by moment as circumstances change and so is dependent on the “now,” parallels the final sentence of the maxim: “And if not now, when?

[16] Kauffman, 198.

[17] “Rather than focus on why something has happened to us in our lives, Yemima suggests that we must train ourselves to give generously, to listen to ourselves and to others, and to lead a balanced life” (Ramon, 94.) Odenheimer notes: “To the extent that a person is able to stand within ‘his own space’—i.e., the space of his essential nature—he will increasingly be able to rely on an ever-more precise and delicate awareness of when his actions toward others are in line with the biblical injunction ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself,’ which is perhaps the ultimate goal of Yemima’s method.”

[18] Ramon, 95–96.

[19] Odenheimer. To me, this sounds like the methodology of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and the two methods have been combined by practitioners; but it is beyond my expertise to undertake a comparison.

[20] Ramon, 93.

[21] Kauffman, 197.

[22] See Kauffman, 198, and Oded David, “Eshet Pele,” Makor Rishon weekend supplement, May 23, 2017. Accessible at https://musaf-shabbat.com/2017/05/23/%D7%90%D7%A9%D7%AA-%D7%A4%D7%9C%D7%90-%D7%A2%D7%95%D7%93%D7%93-%D7%93%D7%95%D7%93/.

[23] Quoted in Odenheimer. I find it significant that the Yemima method was able to offer something to this individual that his clinical psychological background presumably failed to do.

[24] Odenheimer translates it as “segments.”

[25] Translated by Ramon, 94. I presume her use of “accurate” is her way of translating the diyuk concept that I translated with the word “precise.” 

[26] David, ibid.

[27] Kauffman, 198.

[28] “…[S]ometimes she would stop the dialogue and begin to dictate again. ‘So and so,’ she would say, referring to a student who had asked the triggering question, ‘has brought us down a segment’” (Odenheimer).

[29] Yemima’s son Yishai Avital published Torat Yemima, Four Lessons of Introduction, which may be found along with other items of interest at http://www.toratyemima.co.il.

[30] Ramon (93): “Some ‘portions’ record Yemima’s response to her audience’s struggle with the terror attacks that followed the Oslo accord in 1992–1993. They reflect her insistence on maintaining an optimistic disposition—both personal as well as national—even as Israelis were tormented by mourning and fear.”

[31] See for example http://www.toratyemima.co.il. Various other teachers have disseminated typed up material here and there.

[32] Before she died, Yemima “ordained” certain students to continue her approach.

[33] I have since discovered that many students shared a similar experience of being elevated, as Kauffman notes: “In a way, without declaration, she also elevated her disciples in a long process of spiritual development, as many of them testify” (203).

[34] Kauffman writes: “In Hassidism, the Tsaddik… brings down knowledge, visions, abundance, blessings, and brings up prayers, cleaves to the divine realm, and elevates his disciples through close relationships—communal and personal…. Yemima was actually a Tsadeket. People speak of her in awe, describing her sublime personality. She also functioned like the Hassidic Tsaddik in many facets of her activity, bringing real help to people, in body and soul. Stories abound of how she cured illnesses” (200–201). Many praises can be found within the eulogies, personal testimonials, and remembrances dating from different periods collated in the booklet Likhvodah Lezikhrah U-l’Illuy Nishmatah Shel Yemima Avital ZT”L, printed by Machon Ma’ayan.

[35] See https://www.edit-shalev.co.il/%D7%90%D7%95%D7%93%D7%95%D7%AA/. It would be interesting to research the question of to which Hassidic master Yemima bears the closest resemblance in her approach.

[36] The Baal Shem Tov, and following him the occasional Hassidic master, made reference to the wise man or tzaddik who is the “rofe nefashot,”or sometimes, “rofe neshamot,” both meaning the healer of souls (the phrase is also sometimes used to refer to God). See for example R. Natan of Nemirov, Likutei Halakhot Hilkhot Hoshen Mishpat, Hilkhot Hona’ah 5. Rebbe Nahman is referred to by contemporary Breslov Hassidim as a “healer of souls,” see for example, https://gatesofemunah.wordpress.com/about/. Yemima, as mentioned, also prayed for the healing of the body; while this is not synonymous with the soul, Ramon notes that, “the underlying assumption of the connectedness of body and soul and the influence of the spirit on a person’s well-being is a common thread that runs through all of these works” (ibid.). Kauffman (201): “A sick person is someone who has obstructions. She knew how to open those obstructions.”

[37] Kauffman, 201. Apparently, people also make pilgrimages to her gravesite in Be’er Sheva, another sign of her status as a tzadeket (ibid.).

[38] Kauffman, 199. She elaborates on these from p. 200 onward. However, a disclaimer she issues is of general interest and importance, in terms of the connection between the Hassidic movement and Yemima: “I do not claim a straight historical line from Hassidism to the Yemima method regarding the issue of personal redemption or any other issue, but rather an inspiration or at least a phenomenological resemblance” (200).

[39] Ramon, 93, 94.

[40] David, ibid. He merely notes that this idea, amongst many other aspects of Yemima’s work, remains in need of further elaboration. Odenheimer notes that by her own testimony she was no Kabbalah scholar and that she never formally studied Kabbalah, and yet experts were amazed by her insights. Asking her about a Zohar passage, one such expert received a long, precise interpretation that filled him with wonder. He asked where she knew this from. She answered: “I suppose from the same place that Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai did.” 

[41] See Rabbi Shimon ben Shaya’s responsum in the Moreshet website, at http://shut.moreshet.co.il/shut2.asp?id=84486. Rabbi Yuval Cherlow, when asked about the Yemima method, limited himself to expressing reservations regarding any system narrowly revolving around one person; see his responsum at https://www.kipa.co.il/%D7%A9%D7%90%D7%9C-%D7%90%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%A8%D7%91/%D7%99%D7%9E%D7%99%D7%9E%D7%94/).

[42] “There is no hint of any linkage to the feminist movement and/or its theories…. Moreover, the rare explicit messages regarding femininity expressed in her lessons are traditional, reflecting patriarchal, essentialist conceptions” (Kauffman, 210). In this, Yemima and Nehama Leibowitz are similar. See chapter 14, on Nehama’s femininity and feminism, in my book Nehama Leibowitz, Teacher and Bible Scholar.

[43] Odenheimer, quoting Yossi Chajes, brings examples of Jewish female spiritual seers from the fifteenth through seventeenth centuries (after which mention of them was censored, due to fallout from the Sabbetai Zevi fiasco); but he notes the important difference, that Yemima was apparently the first female mystic and visionary who left the world a systematic body of teachings, recorded meticulously by her disciples. 

[44] This notion is strongly present in Chabad Hassidism, making reference to such verses as Proverbs 12:4, “A woman of valor is the crown of her husband,” and Jeremiah 31:21, “The woman will encircle the man,” as well as the aggadah about the diminution of the moon (Hullin 60b). See more in Susan Handelman’s article, ‘Putting Women in the Picture: The Rebbe’s Views on Women Today,” (https://www.chabad.org/theJewishWoman/article_cdo/aid/161694/jewish/Putting-Women-in-the-Picture.htm), and in Devorah Heshelis, The Moon’s Lost Light (Targum/Feldheim, 2006).

[45] Keter Shem Tov, 111.

[46] Kauffman, 198–199.

[47] Ramon, 92.

[48] There is no accurate measurement of the scope of the phenomenon; it was estimated in 2005 that around 10,000 people were involved (see Kauffman, 196). At the time, Edit Shalev stated her belief that too many people were teaching Yemima; that “the method without the person is not really Yemima…. Her absence is felt very deeply. There is a lack of precision in the learning today. People are teaching who did not spend much or any time with Yemima.” Shalev believed that only those who had studied for many years with Yemima had the right to teach her method (Odenheimer). 

[49] Ramon, 78. Ramon herself is active in this field and her article was written in the context of these studies.

[50] Attempts were made to bring her method to Haredi society (Odenheimer), but with what success is unclear. This firsthand testimony in a Haredi internet forum suggests that the Haredi adherents present at a memorial evening for Yemima were almost entirely not “mainstream” or “classic” Haredim (the thread actually serves to illustrate very well the diversity of her fans): https://www.bhol.co.il/forums/topic.asp?cat_id=4&topic_id=1926499&forum_id=771.

[51]  I have been informed of a possible English-speaking group in Jerusalem, but have not spoken to anyone who has done it. Additionally, an Israeli now living in Berkeley, California, Naama Sadan, is teaching Yemima in English, and is working on a project to translate Yemima’s writings into English.


 

Halakha in Crisis Mode: Four Models of Adaptation

 

Introduction

 

The ongoing pandemic has put enormous stress on ordinary halakhic life. Many women cannot get to the mikvah, making abstinence and the “distancing” required of couples during niddah last indefinitely; mourners are deprived of shiva visits and kaddish; and the absence of thrice-daily, daily, or even weekly tefillah beTzibbur (communal prayer) sucks the oxygen out of many people’s religious lives.

These reactions are normal. In a crisis, restrictions that are ordinarily difficult become massive obstacles requiring Herculean strength to overcome. Ritual actions turn out to be needs as well as obligations, so that being deprived of them feels unjust and unbearable. Moral principles that feel satisfyingly altruistic in times of plenty now seem like playing a sucker’s game.

These reactions are justified. Maimonides teaches that the laws of Torah, like the laws of nature, are Divinely constructed to provide the best outcomes for most people in most societies in most places most of the time. They are not universal panaceas.

To account for the minority of situations where halakha is counterproductive, the Torah gives prophets, the Sanhedrin, and perhaps other rabbinic bodies the authority to suspend specific laws when necessary. Maimonides writes regarding this authority that “sometimes one has to amputate a leg to save the patient,” the same metaphor used centuries later by Abraham Lincoln to defend his suspension of habeas corpus in the run-up to the Civil War.

Amputation is a desperate last resort (and suspension of the laws of nature is not an option for physicians). The Torah commands us to heal — in other words, to understand, interpret, and utilize the laws of nature in the ways that maximize their human benefits and minimize their human costs. Competent posekim (halakhic decisors) relate to the laws of Torah in the same way. Nature and Torah are immutable, but human beings have the ability and obligation to adjust their effects, whether physical, psychological, or spiritual.

Every crisis generates calls for radical responses. Some of these recommendations may rise to the level of amputation. But the organizing metaphor of this article is medicine, not surgery. What are the tools we have within halakha to respond to crises? How far can we adapt our community’s praxis while maintaining the law rather than suspending it? 

The halakhic term for “ordinary crises” is sh’at haDehak. (Extraordinary crises that justify suspending the law are something along the lines of migdar milta vehasha’ah tzerikah lekakh.)  We can therefore frame our investigation as a study of how halakha adapts in response to which kinds of sh’at haDehak.

My thesis is that there are four distinct modes of adaptation. Those four modes are the following:

  1. Ruling in accordance with a less authoritative opinion over a more authoritative opinion.
  2. Stripping observance of the law down to essentials, rather than seeking the ideal.
  3. Satisfying only the most authoritative opinion, rather than seeking to satisfy all authoritative opinions.
  4. Lowering a legal standard beyond what was previously seen as an absolute minimum.

 

Calls for halakhic responses to the crisis can generally be understood and evaluated in terms of these categories.  

 

1.

To understand how halakha adapts, we need first to explain what halakha is. For our purposes, I suggest the following definition: “Halakha is what a posek  without opinions would say it is under ordinary circumstances.”

You are presumably asking yourself: What is a posek without opinions? Isn’t the whole role of posekim to input questions and output opinions? Let me illustrate what I mean by quoting Rabbi Moshe Isserles (Rama, Shulhan Arukh Hoshen Mishpat 25):

 

If the issue is one of “prohibition or permission,” then if the relevant prohibition is deOraita (Torah law)—follow the strict opinion; if (the relevant prohibition) is deRabanan (Rabbinic law)—follow the lenient opinion. This is only if the two disputants are of equal stature; one must not rely on the words of a lesser against those of one greater in wisdom and number,[1] even in a sh’at haDehak, unless there would also be great loss.

 

Rabbi Isserles sets out an algorithm for deciding prior halakhic disputes. One needs to answer four questions.

 

  1. Is the level of personal authority behind each opinion equal, or is one side greater?
  2. Is the relevant issue Torah or Rabbinic law?
  3. Will following the opinion with greater authority cause someone a great loss?
  4. Is this a sh’at haDehak?

 

If the levels of authority are equal, and there is no sh’at haDehak and possibility of great loss, then in deOraita cases one adopts the strict position, and in deRabanan cases one adopts the lenient position. However, if there is a sh’at haDehak and possibility of great loss, then one follows whichever opinion prevents the loss.

Rabbi Yoel Sirkes (Bah, Issur vaHeter) clarifies that “great loss” can be defined either objectively or subjectively. For example, having an intended main course declared non-kosher may be considered a great loss for a poor person on Monday, and a minor loss for a rich person that same day. But the intended main course for a Shabbat table is a major loss for rich and poor alike on Friday afternoon, when it cannot be replaced in time for Shabbat. This demonstrates that the category “great loss” applies to emotional or spiritual as well as financial loss.

What emerges is that in an ordinary crisis, the default rules of halakhic decision-making shift, and posekim should adopt whichever positions prevent people from suffering great financial, emotional, or spiritual losses.

This seems like a caricature of pesak halakha. And it is a caricature, until we realize that Rama is describing the process as engaged in by posekim with no opinions of their own. Where no other basis exists for decision, perhaps because one simply doesn’t know the material well enough for one’s own opinion to have weight, these rules apply. One is entitled to follow these rules only so long as one can adopt the resulting positions with integrity, meaning that one believes them as likely to be true as the alternatives.

Talmidei Hakhamim will generally have independent ideas as to what the texts mean, or what the intent of the law requires, and will therefore make halakhic decisions on those grounds. They will not be able to follow these rules. Ironically, in these cases they may have fewer options than a hypothetical pesak algorithm.

I think it is nonetheless clear that competent posekim should be heavily influenced by these rules. That is to say, an important factor in their interpretations and evaluations should be that texts and positions that cause fewer great losses are more likely to represent the true intent of the law.

Talmud Niddah 9b provides another limit on the posek’s discretion to rule in accordance with less authoritative positions. A Beraita records that Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi issued a ruling that followed the position of Rabbi Eliezer against that of the Sages. “When he remembered, he said: Rabbi Eliezer is worthy of being relied on in a sh’at haDehak.” The Talmud comments: “If you say that he remembered that the halakha does not follow Rabbi Eliezer but rather the Sages, how would that justify following Rabbi Eliezer in a sh’at haDehak?! Rather, it must be that the halakha was not formally determined either way, and it means “when he remembered” that Rabbi Eliezer was disagreed with by a group, not an individual.” In other words, an opinionless posek can adopt the less authoritative position only on open questions, but cannot relitigate settled issues even in cases of sh’at haDehak.

The boundaries of “open” and “settled” are themselves not always clear.  As with everything else, integrity and humility are necessary, and not always sufficient.

An interesting test case is the “Zoom Seder” controversy this year. A group of Israeli rabbis, mostly of Moroccan origin, issued a ruling before Pesah that permitted families to have interactive seders over the Zoom conferencing platform. They offered various policy grounds for regarding this as a sufficient sh’at haDehak to waive rabbinic violations of Yom Tov, but their backstop argument was the minority position that simply permits use of electricity on Yom Tov. A wide swath of Ashkenazic and Sephardic rabbis ruled the Zoom-seder position out of bounds precisely because of the reliance on that position. A plausible explanation of the disagreement is that one side saw the issue of electricity on Yom Tov as formally settled, while the other saw it as open, which allowed them to rely on the lenient position in a sh’at haDehak.

 

2.–3.

Talmudic halakha often distinguishes explicitly between what should be done leHatkhilah, ab initio, and what need not be redone beDiavad, post facto.

A universally accepted principle is kol sh’at haDehak kedieved damya, meaning that in pressing circumstances the beDiavad becomes acceptable leHatkhilah .[2]

There are at least two kinds of leHatkhilah / beDiavad divisions.

The first division is when the beDiavad meets an essential legal standard, while the leHatkhilah adds a requirement that is indirectly related to that standard. For example, aesthetic experience is basic to very few mitzvoth, but regardless, many mitzvoth are leHatkhilah only when done with aesthetically pleasing accoutrements. For negative commandments, the leHatkhilah often involves taking added precautions against violating the prohibition. This means that the leHatkhilah can be intimately bound up with rabbinic decrees intended to safeguard biblical prohibitions.

Rabbi Chaim Amsellem argues in U’Baharta BaHayyim that sh’at haDehak kedieved damya gives posekim the right to waive deRabanan decrees. On that basis he suggests, for example, that during the pandemic women can immerse in any mikvah large enough to contain them fully, and in water considered “drawn,” since in his opinion the requirement for 40 se’ah (the talmudic measurement of volume) and the requirement that the water not be “drawn” are deRabanan. Rabbi Daniel Sperber was reported on Facebook to have made a similar argument regarding “distancing” for women who will be unable to immerse during the pandemic.

One can counter that the Sages chose to make some of their decrees binding only leHatkhilah, but made others obligatory even beDiavad. Sh’at haDehak kedieved damya permits waiving only the first category, and the burden of proof may be on the posek to prove that a decree can be waived. One can also counter that preventive decrees may be waived only when there is little likelihood that the deOraita violation they were instituted to prevent will happen as a result. My sense is that both these counters are correct.

However, a different principle may allow waiving deRabanans of both types in emergencies. Mishnah Shabbat 24:1 teaches that a person trapped outside of town before Shabbat may ask a Gentile to carry his or her wallet in, even though asking a Gentile to perform work forbidden to Jews is generally forbidden. The reason given is that asking a Gentile is generally a preventive decree, lest one come to do the action oneself, but in this case such a decree makes it more likely that one will violate the prohibition oneself. Ravvyah (1:391) sees this as an example of a general principle that rabbinic decrees can be waived in cases where they are counterproductive. According to this, if one could demonstrate compellingly that a specific “distancing” is counterproductive during the pandemic, meaning that observing the prohibition makes it more rather than less likely that the couple will violate the prohibition against intercourse, the prohibition against that “distancing” could be waived. However, such demonstrations are hard to come by. 

The second kind of division is when the beDiavad satisfies only the most authoritative position in a halakhic dispute, whereas the leHatkhilah also satisfies less authoritative positions.

This leHatkhilah can metastasize into the idea that one must always be yotzei leKhol haDeiot (fulfill one’s obligation according to all possible positions). The excesses of that approach, which can literally threaten lives (as when the largest position about the size of an olive is combined with the position that one must eat an olive-size of matzah in one swallow), can make accounting for multiple reasonable positions seem unreasonable. However, an issue may not be ripe for conclusive decision, and sometimes accounting for multiple positions can increase the likelihood of approximating the Divine Will, at minimal cost.

Some of the recent discussions about Zoom seders, mikvaot, kitniyot and the like have revolved around these issues, both broadly and specifically. One might think, for example, that the time has come to adopt a coherent halakhic approach to electricity. But one might counter that technology continues to develop so rapidly that we are best off continuing to muddle through.

 

4.

The last, most controversial, and perhaps most radical way that halakha can change during a sh’at haDehak is by lowering a legal standard beyond what was previously seen as the absolute minimum.

A Beraita cited on Talmud Sukkah 31a states regarding the Four Species:

 

If they are withered—they are valid; If they are dried-out—they are invalid. Rabbi Yehudah said: Even if they are dried out (they are valid). Said Rabbi Yehudah: It happened that the people of Karkom would bequeath their lulavim to their grandchildren. They replied: What proof is that!? A sh’at haDehak is no proof.

 

 

Rosh and Raavad, cited by Tur (OC 649), derive from the response to Rabbi Yehudah that that the city of Karkom lived in a permanent sh’at haDehak regarding lulavim, and as a result, its residents could fulfill their obligations with lulavim that anywhere else would have been invalid even beDiavad.

However, Bet Yosef notes that Raavad eventually came to consider this result absurd:

 

“How could this be, that in a situation of dehak, one fulfills obligations with it and make blessings over it leHatkhilah, if in a situation of not-dehak, one does not fulfill one’s obligation with it even diavad?!” Raavad concludes that the people of Karkom waved their ancestral lulavim so as not to forget the mitzvah rather than to fulfill the mitzvah.

 

Bet Yosef himself responds that authority to determine the halakhically necessary standard of lulav-freshness was given over by Scripture to the Sages, and they said that in a situation of not-dehak, one’s obligation is not satisfied even beDiavad (with a desiccated lulav), so that Israel would be scrupulous about mitzvoth, but in a situation of dehak, they validated such lulavim, since the mitzvah could not be fulfilled any other way, and even permitted blessing over them.

Bet Yosef concludes by splitting the difference; one can wave such lulavim in a sh’at haDehak, but not make the blessing over them.

This seems to me the best framework for analyzing the Zoom minyan issue. I think halakhic precedents make clear that a minyan ordinarily requires physical community. However, the question was whether the halakhic standard of community ought to be redefined in this sh’at haDehak. The general answer of the community was to do so only where there was no risk of making a berakhah leVatalah, or blessing made in vain.

Rabbi Eliezer Melamed’s astonishing assertion that saying kaddish without a minyan is not a violation of any sort therefore opened up the possibility of kaddish via Zoom. In my humble opinion, his position should at most be used to allow a mourner to say kaddish deRabanan (kaddish said after learning together) in a Zoom minyan that has learned together, rather than kaddish yatom (mourner’s kaddish), because one can argue that the minyan for learning is constituted by a shared experience rather than shared presence.

 

Conclusion

 

Halakha has ample mechanisms for adapting in times of crisis. Competent posekim can utilize these mechanisms to develop creative strategies to reduce communal and individual burdens and allow better access to the consolations and joys of ritual.

These mechanisms are governed within halakha by formal rules. Deviating from those rules moves a posek from the realm of adaptation to that of “amputation,” from maintaining the law to suspending it.

Ultimately, though, the metarules of halakhic adaptation, like those of ordinary halakha, are subject to interpretation. The integrity of halakha always depends on the integrity of those who decide it, and on the integrity of the community that empowers them to decide it.

 

 

 

[1] “Number” may refer either to age or to number of students.

[2] Sh’at haDehak k’dieved damya, often attributed to Rabbi Mosheh Isserles, Torat HaHatat 17, although he may not have intended to articulate a general principle.

In Praise of Critical Thinking: Remembering Dr. Louis H. Feldman

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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