National Scholar Updates

“It isn’t enough to talk about peace. One must believe in it. And it isn't enough to believe in it. One must work at it.”

       —Eleanor Roosevelt ^[1]

       Many people wish to break social bonds and instill fear between groups. I’ve seen this attitude firsthand. Recently, I posted a picture of a Jewish-Muslim dialogue session I led for the local community. The purpose of the session was to encourage interfaith dialogue and mutual understanding between communities. The reaction to the dinner on social media, which I thought—hoped—would be uniformly positive and respectful, included comments that were anything but. Of the hateful comments my photo received, the one that stood out in my mind was: “Not the first time terrorists and bankers have worked together.”

       I was sad—disappointed—to see how many ignorant Jews started Muslim-bashing and how many ignorant Muslims started Jew-bashing. Aren’t we, as a modern society, better than this? Haven’t we moved beyond the baseless hatreds that defined earlier generations? I came to realize that anti-Semitism and Islamophobia are tied together, and that all vulnerable minorities need to stick together.

       One of the central commitments of the Jewish faith is to work to improve the world. More than 3,000 years ago, God told Abraham: “And you shall be a blessing” to others (Genesis 12:2). Rabbi Akiva taught that the principle to love one’s neighbor “is the major principle of the Torah.”^[2] It was Hillel who taught: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor.” This is Judaism’s central teaching. He added: “This is the whole Torah! All the rest is commentary” (BT Shabbat 31a). Rambam explains that the two goals of halakha are to perfect our inner world and to eradicate injustice and suffering from the outer world.^[3] “The commandments were given only to refine God’s creatures.”^[4]

       If we believe in Jewish virtues, we have to study them and make them manifest in our lives. What is one way we can begin to understand the universality of Jewish social justice action? At the most basic level, the imperative to save life is a crucial concept of the Torah’s understanding of interpersonal responsibility; it is undeniable that the ethos of Judaism is about affirming the inherent holiness of life. Rabbi Dr. Irving (Yitz) Greenberg, one of Modern Orthodoxy’s most influential theologians, writes:

Judaism’s ultimate dream… is to vanquish death totally. In fact, since God is all good an all life, ideally there should be no death in God's creation in the first place. Classic Judaism therefore taught that when the ultimate redemption is achieved, when the Messiah comes, all those who have died will come to life again. Resurrection of the dead will nullify death retroactively.^[5]

       Rav Yitz’s comment is a powerful reminder that we are to affirm life in this world. And, as Rav Yitz teaches, we don’t have to consider about the quantity of life (as has been traditionally emphasized), but also about the quality of life, an idea he suggests has increased weight in the post-Holocaust era of humanity. But how do we approach this view? In an earlier generation, Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik wrote:

There is nothing so physically and spiritually destructive as diverting one’s attention from this world. And, by contrast, how courageous is halakhic man who does not flee from this world, who does not seek to escape to some pure, supernal realm.^[6]

       Thus, through the appreciation of life, we not only affirm an ethical commitment to others but also a belief in God. It is for this reason that embracing Tzelem Elokim—that all humans are created in the image of God—is so foundational to Jewish values. The essence of the creation in relationship to the Creator is an undeviating bond. And because of this link, we learn repeatedly of its importance to the idea of humanity’s shared and singular heritage:

Adam was created alone in order to teach us that causing a single to perish is like destroying the entire world, and saving a single soul is like saving the entire world. Another teaching: Adam was created alone for the sake of peace, so that we cannot say to each other: “My ancestor was greater than yours.” We are all created from the dust of the earth… and none of us can claim that our ancestors were greater than anyone else’s (BT Sanhedrin 38a).

       Moreover, because mitzvot ben adam l’haveiro (ethics) may actually have more religious weight than mitzvot ben adam laMakom (religious engagement with the divine), social justice work naturally follows a path of treating every human being with the respect they inherently deserve. On this point, Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman, one of the most prominent pre-war Lithuanian rabbis, writes:

For “among two hundred is to be found a hundred,” [a common rabbinic idiom], meaning that in all mitzvot between man and his fellow there is also a component between man and God. Why then should they be lessened by being between man and his fellow? And it is for this reason that the Rosh saw mitzvot between man and his fellow as being more weighty, for they contain both elements.^[7]

       As we discern from the above passage, to be religious is to emulate the compassionate ways of God. Thus, this principle underlies all Torah study and related Jewish social justice activities:

Rabbi Elazar quoted this verse, “He has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: Only to do justice (literally, “to do mishpat”), to love goodness (hessed), and to walk modestly with your God” (Micah 6:8). What does this verse imply? “To do justice” means to act in accordance with the principles of justice. “To love goodness” means to let your actions be guided by principles of loving-kindness. “To walk modestly with your God” means to assist needy families at their funerals and weddings [by giving humbly, in private]. (BT Sukkah 59b)
 

       Engaging in Jewish social justice work as a religious enterprise means that activists don’t merely seek the win at the end. To paraphrase Levinas, human “uniqueness lies in the responsibility for the other man.”[8] The means to social betterment must be just and holy to ensure just and holy ends. Rav Ya’akov Yitzchak of Pzhysha (the “Holy Yehudi,” an eighteenth-century Hassidic rebbe) was asked: “Why in the verse, ‘Justice, justice you shall pursue’ [Deuteronomy 16:20] is the word ‘justice’ repeated?” The rebbe answered that the repetition is meant to convey that not only must the ends we pursue be just, but so too must the means we employ to achieve those ends.^[9]

       Who are the ones who must bear the burden of repairing the world and bending it toward justice? The work of repair cannot be solely upon the Gentiles (who make up the majority of the world's population) while Jews, a small minority in the world, benefit but do not contribute. Rabbi Soloveitchik was adamant about this point:

Since we live among Gentiles, we share in the universal historical experience. The universal problems faced by humanity are also faced by the Jews. Famine, disease, war, oppression, materialism, atheism, permissiveness, pollution of the environment—all these are great problems which history has imposed not only on the general community but also on the covenantal community. We have no rights to tell mankind that these problems are exclusively theirs… the Jew is a member of humanity.^[10]

       Working to bring more peace and justice into the world is a big task. It is not enough to look into legal codes solely to inform our decision-making process and moral considerations. Consider the words of Ramban:

Now this is a great principle, for its impossible to mention in the Torah all aspects of a person’s conduct with one’s neighbors and friends, and all of one’s various transactions, and the ordinances of all societies and countries. But since God mentioned many of them—such as “you shall not go about as a talebearer” (Leviticus 19:16), “you shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge” (Leviticus 19:18), “neither shall you stand idly by the blood of your neighbor” (Leviticus 19:16), “you shall not curse the deaf” (Leviticus 19:14), “you shall rise before the elder” (Leviticus 19:32), and the like—God reverted to state in a general way that, in all matters, one should do what is right and good, including even compromise and going beyond the requirements of the law.^[11]

       Indeed, peace and redemption depend on work happening all over the globe. Religious conscience has the potential to ensure peace while also having an effect of furthering justice, compassion, and dignity in regions of the world where these notions are not yet entrenched. There is a need to harmonize gratitude in the quiet prayerful presence of God, while also knowing there is real suffering and brokenness in the world. Therefore, one of the most powerful tools in this field of work is the strength to refuse to look away and be silent.

       But how do we proceed knowing that the path ahead is difficult? At the most basic level, working together supports spirits during hard times. Doris Haddock, a social activist also known as “Granny D” (1910–2010) was 98 years old when she gave a speech about how she was transformed during her experiences of living in the time of the Great Depression. She remarked: “Maybe we were hungry sometimes, but did we starve? No, because we had our friends and family and the earth to sustain us….”^[12] For the human mind, the darkest times are among the most frightening. When we cannot clearly see what is happening around us, we shrink inward, unable to navigate the world physically and emotionally. Certainly, our presence has the possibility to remove the darkness in others. There are rare and unique moments when we can show up for other groups in a way that builds trust.

       Too often, societal norms teach us that independence is the primary virtue. But in fact, the notions of living in states of inter-dependence and co-existence are just as powerful. To be sure, we must learn to hold one another close in challenging times. Rabbi Joseph Telushkin relates a parable:

A little boy was struggling to lift a heavy stone but could not budge it. The boy’s father, who happened to be watching, said to his son, “Are you using all your strength?”

         “Yes, I am,” the boy said with irritation.

               “No, you’re not,” the father answered. “You have not asked me to help you.”^[13]

       It is undeniable, however, that there is much hate within the hearts of a vast number of people around the world. How best to engage with these individuals who, seemingly, have already closed off their internal avenues of reasoned dialogue? Is it even worth engaging with them? On this topic, Rav Kook teaches:

When interacting with a morally corrupt person, it would be appropriate to hate them as a result of their moral faults. But from the perspective of their Tzelem Elokim (inner sparks of Godliness), it's appropriate to treat this person with love….”^[14]

       To seek another’s deepest inner value is fundamental to Jewish consciousness and social justice actions. Why, then, does finding the inner value in others not seem to be a central concern for Jewish discourse today? There are five primary challenges to the Jewish community engaging fully in Jewish social justice leadership right now:

1.   Elitism. Among some, there is a sense that Jews are more special and holier than Gentiles.

2.   Narrow-Minded Traditionalism. There is increasingly a slide to the right in traditional communities that are moving toward deeper societal isolation.

3.   Watered-Down Tikkun Olam. Jewish activists often join secular social justice movement without bringing real Jewish wisdom or spirituality to the engagement.

4.   Moral Priorities. There is a sense that Jews are alone or are hated in the world, and thus we should only take care of ourselves since no one else will.

5.    False Sense of Relevance. There is a perception (based upon civil rights stories) that Jews are still at the epicenter of change-making.

       How do we remedy these challenges? There is no doubt that Jews are feeling more isolated today than in the past 70 years. But the opposite story can also be told. American Jews have never experienced such security, acceptance, and integration. It is true that we have unique obligations to our fellow Jews but that does not preclude us from also actualizing another existential component of the Jew: our humanity. Jewish solidarity can be coupled with human solidarity.

       One of the vital decisions activists can make is to decide whether we wish to be on the side of listening and healing or on the side of waiting. Activists do not engage in this crucial work because we are promised a reward. As it says: “Whoever has compassion for [God’s] creatures is shown compassion from Heaven” (BT Shabbat 151b). Rather than waiting to witness the spiritual recompense for our deeds, we engage in this work because we love others and feel empathy for others’ suffering. We seek to emulate God’s ways:

The Talmud teaches: “The Torah begins with an act of kindness, and ends with an act of kindness. It begins with an act of kindness, for it says, ‘God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them’ (Genesis 3:21).  And it ends with an act of kindness, for it says, ‘He [God] buried him [Moses] in the valley.”^[15]
 

       One of the costs of opening our hearts to vulnerable populations of the world is the nightmares and anxiety it produces. It is haunting to deal with echoes of orphans crying from broken cribs, hospital rooms filled with casualties from senseless civil wars, refugee camps filled with generations of families, factory farms slicing jugular veins without pause, jail cells stuffed with people who need to be rehabilitated rather than punished, and janitor closets where invisible workers toil out of sight and out of mind from the greater populace. But we must do our best to accept the challenges of assisting these people, even at great sacrifice to our emotional cores.

       Each of us has something to share. Anne Frank’s message of not needing “to wait a moment before make the world better” is an inspirational aphorism that can push us to use the talents we have to actualize our unique potential. Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks explains that Judaism cannot be reduced to some strict Kantian calculation of a “universal imperative.” Rather, Judaism is a deeply subjective and relative religion where everyone has a unique calling in this world:

There is no life without a task; no person without a talent; no place without a fragment of God’s light waiting to be discovered and redeemed; no situation without its possibility of sanctification; no moment without its call. It may take a lifetime to learn how to find these things, but once we learn, we realize in retrospect that all it ever took was the ability to listen…. He whispers our name—and the greatest reply, the reply of Abraham, is simply hineni: “Here I am,” ready to heed your call, to mend a fragment of Your all-too-broken world.^[16]

       I think the basis of values-driven and mission-driven efforts is the notion that we just don’t look at the small annoyances that hold us back. Instead, there is an obligation to look beyond the inconveniences of the work and look towards the ultimate goal of healing the world. To be a passionate advocate means worrying less about folks throwing water on our embers of compassion, and focusing more on feeding our fires. In other words, more than battling the darkness that surrounds us, let's infuse ourselves and those around us with light. We are to be focused on the big picture.

       While Jews have a unique holy mission in the world, we dare not look down upon Gentiles or other faith groups in our pursuit of universal justice. Indeed, we must emerge in a faith-rooted manner that is transformative for us, as well as for populations who experience oppression and injustice. To be sure, there are texts from Jewish tradition that imply we have a higher obligation to Jews than to Gentiles (BT Bava Metzia 71a). Yet, there are also texts that instruct that we are equally obligated to all (BT Gittin 61a). Nachmanides teaches that: “We are commanded to save the life of a non-Jew and to save him from harm, that if he was drowning in a river or a stone fell on him, that we must use all of our strength and be burdened with saving him and if he was sick, we engage to heal him” (Sefer haMitzvot, Mitzvah 16).

       Human solidarity is something to work toward and cultivate. When immigrant children recently found themselves under attack in America, I found myself praying, under the stars, in a circle of strangers. A young woman to the left took my hand. A young woman to the right took my hand. They were no longer Mexican, Christian, brown, women, DREAMers. I was no longer Jewish, American, white, a man, a citizen. They were all those things and I was all of those things. But, for a brief moment, difference fell away. We were one: Not strangers, just humanity. All of us humbly sinking together into the harmonious unity of the cosmos, in solidarity with each other and with creation.

Pathologizing normal stages of faith development negatively impacts individuals who choose to identify with Jewish faith communities. In this article, I will discuss the merits of a developmental approach to faith, and will demonstrate that a developmental view of faith is consistent with ancient Jewish tradition. I hope that my approach will allow us to reframe the discussion about some of the observed phenomena in the Jewish community that we tend to pathologize, and to approach these phenomena from a different perspective.

In this article I will:

• Introduce Fowler’s structural stages of faith development;
• Demonstrate that Fowler’s stages are consistent with traditional Jewish sources;
• Discuss an optimal environment in which faith stage development can occur; and
• Give examples of normal faith stage development that are pathologized and discuss the negative impacts that arise as a result.

Fowler’s Structural Stages of Faith Development

A classic treatment of faith development commonly taught in pastoral curricula is James Fowler’s book, Stages of Faith.[1] Fowler’s book is based on his own original research, as well as on Jean Piaget’s work in the area of cognitive development,[2] Lawrence Kohlberg’s work in the area of stages of moral development,[3] and Erik Erikson’s work in the area of stages of psychosocial development,[4] as well as the work of numerous others. Readers wanting more information about Fowler’s methodology and conclusions are directed to his excellent book. It is worthwhile reading for those who want to understand their own faith journey in a more profound way.

Fowler posits seven structural stages of faith development (see chart below[5]). Individuals progress through these stages over the course of their entire life (well beyond the end of Piaget’s cognitive developmental stages) and they do so in a stepwise (or spiral) fashion—first learning and knowing something with what Fowler terms “the logic of rational certainty,” and at some later point assimilating this with the “logic of conviction,” thus providing a foundation for the next structural stage.[6]

To address his concern that some readers might find his model judgmental, thinking that later stages are “better” or more “mature,” Fowler states that each stage has its own dignity and integrity, and that people at later stages are not inherently more valuable or more spiritual. Additionally, a significant percentage of individuals that Fowler surveyed remained at Stage 3, or even Stage 2, throughout their adult life.

What is important, then, is not that individuals progress through the stages to achieve a higher degree of spirituality; as Fowler states, spirituality can be achieved at any stage. The important observation is that individuals can progress through stages and be at different stages at different points in their life. The same individual’s spirituality and outlook may manifest differently at each stage. Fowler’s faith stages are a model[7] for understanding human faith in a composite sense, and may in fact not be universal to all individuals or to faiths other than two major Western monotheistic religions represented in his studies (Judaism and Christianity).

Are Fowler’s Stages Consistent with Jewish Tradition?

The Mishna in Avot 5:24 presents, as Robert Travers Herford writes in his commentary Pirke Aboth—The Ethics of the Talmud: Sayings of the Fathers,[8] “the stages in the life” of an individual who follows the Torah. This Mishna, as well as the following two Mishnayot, are redacted beyond the original end of the last chapter of Avot.[9] Evidence that it has been moved from its original placement elsewhere in the tractate[10] points to the possibility that the redactors moved it because of its homiletical and representative value of the entire tractate.[11]

For the purpose of the subsequent discussion, please see the chart below, where I present Avot 5:24 and my own translation, organized in pairs and numbered as “stages” corresponding to Fowler’s stages. In cases where my translation departs from Herford’s more conventional translation, I have cited Herford’s translation and supported my choice to depart from it in the endnotes.

The parallels between Avot 5:24 and Fowler’s structural stages demonstrate that our sages embraced a stages of faith model, and that Fowler, Piaget, Kohlberg, Erikson, et al support observations that our sages made thousands of years ago about human spiritual development. While there are chronological differences between the Avot 5:24 epochs and Fowler’s stages, what is important is that the text of Avot 5:24 outlines the movement of an individual’s spiritual life through a progression of stages, each stage having different hallmarks.

In Avot 5:24 there are fourteen “ages,” or epochs. Pairing the epochs yields seven sets. The first of each set of epochs is a physical activity, or, if you will, an experience. The second of each set of epochs is a spiritual or emotional benchmark, or watershed. These correspond to Fowler’s “logic of rational certainty” and “logic of conviction” at each stage.

The epochs of “Being Commanded” and “Logical Reasoning” (ages 13 and 15) correspond to Fowler’s Intuitive-Projective stage (Stage 1) where “religion is learned through experiences.” Since young children at Stage 0 are not yet capable of learning about religion through experience, there is no reason for them to be obligated to have those experiences except for hinukh—to habituate them to those experiences so that they are not totally foreign. Only at Stage 1 do children become obligated to have religious experiences, since they are now at a stage where they can learn religion through those experiences.

The epochs of “Physical Strength” and “Understanding” (ages 30 and 40) correspond to Fowler’s Synthetic-Conventional stage (Stage 3.) Many, but not all, people at this stage choose to live their lives by “conventional wisdom.” People at this stage typically are well into their career, perhaps settling down and having a family. People who choose to follow this route might feel that their choice is justified because they have reaped the “obvious” rewards of having done so: a family, a sense of financial security, competence at one’s vocation, and a sense of fitting in to a community. The understanding at this stage might be that working hard at a career is rewarding.

The epochs of “Advising” and “Age” (ages 50 and 60) map to Fowler’s Indivituative-Reflective stage (Stage 4). When one has a conventional understanding of how life works, one is tempted to advise or mentor others and suggest that since a particular set of choices worked for them, the same choices ought to work well for others. Of course, people lives their own lives and are often loath to listen to advice. Even when they do, the results are often quite different.[16] One who is in the habit of advising others, only to be disregarded, or to be disappointed that the same choices made by others lead to a different result for them, may feel “aged”—that they are no longer relevant and no longer have any insight to contribute. Individuals at this stage, which is characterized by a sense of conflict generated by the types of feelings described above, sometimes act in ways that appear non-normative and may even profess non-belief and may appear to others at Stage 3 as lapsed in their faith.[17]

The epochs of “Return” and “Self-mastery” (ages 70 and 80) correspond to Fowler’s Conjunctive stage (Stage 5). One has resolved the conflicts in one’s tradition by developing an understanding that can accommodate multiple different “truths” that overlap in some areas and are disjointed in others. This allows an individual to once again find comfort in his or her tradition and return to it. While an individual at this stage may continue to act in ways that might appear non-normative, they no longer profess non-belief. Their behavior is driven by re-embracing one’s belief rather than an appearance of tentative rejection of it due to conflict.

Is There an Optimal Way to Foster Faith Development?

The parallels between Avot 5:24 and Fowler’s stages suggest that our sages viewed an individual’s life as a progression of stages, and that a faith stage model is consistent with traditional Jewish thought. A separate, related question is whether faith stage development is a positive value in Judaism. Ought Jewish communities invest time in thinking about how to foster the natural process of faith development?

Fowler asserts that each stage has its own dignity and integrity, and that later stages are not “better” or “more mature” than earlier stages, only different. Individuals can attain and live fully spiritual lives in each stage, although the means by which that might be done differ from stage to stage. In Abraham Maslow’s work Motivation and Personality, he elaborates on how one might achieve “self-transcendence” by presenting his Hierarchy of Human Needs.[18] In secular literature, self-transcendence might be termed “spirituality,”[19] and in a traditional Jewish worldview, one might term this concept temimut.[20] One important goal of faith in Jewish tradition is striving for a relationship with God that reflects the value of temimut. This striving is experienced in different ways at each stage of faith development.

R. Abraham Kook, in his discussion of the purpose of life in his Ein Ayah,[21] asserts a similar idea. Rav Kook suggests that the sole purpose of human life is to fulfill a specific personal mission that the soul was given by God, at a particular moment in history. When God creates a particular human, it is evidence that the moment to fulfill her or his specific mission has arrived.

According to R. Kook, during each of our lives, we each are bid to intuit God’s mission for us and execute that mission. To discern that mission, we must each engage in a personal relationship with God. When we do not engage in a relationship with God, we will not be able to discern that mission and our lives will be irrelevant, as if we had never existed.

Rav Kook’s framing strongly reinforces the idea that Jewish communities must support individuals[22] in their personal quest for temimut (self-transcendence) in their relationships with God. Jewish communities must create emotional and physical spaces that facilitate encounters with God and support individuals during their quest to discern the reason for their existence in this world and fulfill their God-given mission.

Maslow asserts that self-transcendence is impossible to attain unless lower human needs, such as physical, economic, and emotional safety are assured. Many of our values, such as tzedakah (charity,) gemilut hassadim (acts of kindness,) and ahavat hinam (embracing the other) are aimed at assuring that those needs are met to support individuals in their quest for temimut. When we, as communities, do not work to provide physical safety, economic safety, and emotional safety we prevent individuals from achieving temimut. When we pathologize that which is a normal manifestation of a faith development stage, we deprive individuals of their much-needed emotional safety and self-esteem, and ultimately prevent them from fulfilling the purpose that their Creator has intended for them.

At the end of Fowler’s book Stages of Faith, he speculates as to how one advances from one faith stage to another. Is it purely a matter of will, or is something else involved? Fowler discusses interventions of what he calls “extraordinary grace,” and what our tradition might call in Aramaic si’yata dishmaya, or in Hebrew, hashgaha peratit (divine assistance.) Fowler concludes that “the question of whether there will be faith on earth is finally God’s business.” In order to create and support healthy Jewish communities, we need to conduct ourselves in ways that will not interfere with the process of making space to let God into our lives so the important business of faith development can take place. We need to be careful not to interfere with “God’s business.”

I want to turn to a few practical examples of contemporary issues in the normatively religious Jewish community and analyze whether they are pathologies or whether they are manifestations of normal faith development stages.

Early Childhood Education

Many individuals who have been educated in Jewish schools reach a point in their lives where they go looking in the Pentateuch for the stories that they were taught as children, only to discover that they are nowhere to be found. For example, the midrashic story about Avraham Avinu smashing the idols in his father Terah’s workshop is nowhere to be found in the Book of Genesis.[23] Many adults criticize Jewish schools for presenting this material literally, misleading children, and setting them up to be disillusioned with our tradition when they become teenagers or young adults and discover the “truth” about those stories. They treat the teaching of these midrashic Bible stories literally as a pathology.[24]

Based on a faith stages model, a child at Stage 0 or Stage 1 of their faith development is not yet ready to process this midrashic material in any other way. The midrashic material must be taught in a literal, engaging way, as if it in fact actually happened, if one expects children to continue to develop their Jewish faith later on in life. Material must be taught differently, depending on the audience and probable faith stage, with an eye to presenting material in an age- and developmentally appropriate way.

The future of the Jewish people depends on being able to transmit our traditions to our children in a way that is engaging and speaks to where they are in their faith development. Additionally, the disappointment they might experience as teenagers or young adults when they discover that perhaps Midrash is not meant to be entirely or only literal is to be expected, and is part of the normal course of their faith development.

Educators must understand this dynamic, and be mindful that how they present the material depends on the faith stage of the target audience. Students must be given developmentally appropriate information and tools to enable them to grow in understanding of our tradition, and be prepared for the inevitable conflicts they will experience. In the prevalent educational model, students are largely classed by age rather than individual developmental stage, and there is sound social reasoning for this practice. Nevertheless, educators must be aware that developmental stages track only roughly, not exactly, by age. Thought must be given to evaluating the faith developmental stage of each student and possibly creating multiple tracks within each cohort to present material in an appropriate way.

“Nonbelieving” Members of Normatively Religious Communities

Another phenomenon of interest is the rise of self-professed non-believers who affiliate with normatively religious communities for purely social reasons.[25] Some view this phenomenon as a pathology and are concerned about the threat it poses to their communities.[26] In considering Fowler’s Stage 3, one can view these self-professed non-believers as a manifestation of a normal faith development stage rather than a pathology. The “authority” in this particular Stage 3 manifestation is peer pressure.

In other communities, this conformity may manifest in less obvious ways—conformity in dress and theology, for example—but it is there, and it is normal. When our communities treat this form of purely social affiliation with a community, or other forms of conformity, as a pathology, rather than the normal developmental faith stage that it is, any corrective interventions taken interfere with the basic human needs these individuals have, such as belonging or self-esteem, and prevent their ability to attain temimut (self-transcendence) at that stage.

The Religious Crisis of Stage 4 as a Pathology

An individual at Stage 4 of faith development may experience deep doubts about the fundamental assumptions taken to be true at previous stages of faith, and act in a way perceived by others as rejection of belief or practice. A cursory look at various websites that discuss how normatively religious individuals and Jewish communities “ought to” behave[27] might lead one to the conclusion that one must observe the commandments a particular way: lack of particular beliefs (such as a literal belief in Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles), the choice of a particular synagogue or school, and even what material one chooses to read, are all grounds for exclusion in some normatively religious Jewish communities. Fowler predicts that at least a significant percentage of people will experience Stage 4 at some point in their faith journey, where they question numerous aspects of their faith that are a source of conflict for them. People experiencing Stage 4 may not look or act as members of a normatively religious Jewish community, yet Fowler and Avot 5:24 assert that such behavior is a normal manifestation of faith development, even in a normatively religious community.

Individuals who are at Stage 4 of their faith development and who belong to normatively religious communities that treat Stage 4 as a pathology rather than a normal stage of faith development, and experience criticism of their questions and misgivings as a result may experience a deep sense of loss and shame when they are told that are not normatively religious and that they ought to be excluded from their faith community because of perceived heresy. Treating Stage 4 behaviors as pathological deprives some such individuals of the basic human needs for belonging and self-esteem that they must have in order to achieve temimut (self-transcendence) at Stage 4.

The View of Divorce as a Crisis in Normatively Religious Communities

Many people bemoan the high divorce rate in the Modern Orthodox community,[28] and attribute that problem primarily to factors external to the community.[29] While this might be true, one of the many factors driving divorce is how Jewish communities sometimes construe normal faith development stages as pathological.

When two people choose to marry, there is no automatic guarantee that both will progress through faith stages at the same rate, and at the same time, or that either or both of the spouses will progress through faith stages at all. A significant percentage of those surveyed by Fowler in doing his research remained at Stage 3 or even Stage 2 well into mid-life and old age. It is quite likely that spouses may experience significant periods of time where they are at different faith stages. Spouses who are at different structural faith stages, and buy into some of the beliefs about how normatively religious people ought to behave (discussed in the previous section,) may be unable to empathize with their spouse’s experience and feelings. When spouses are unable to validate each other and empathize with each other, a serious handicap is introduced into the relationship.

For example, one spouse might be at Stage 3, while the other is deep in the questioning of their faith that often accompanies Stage 4. A spouse who is at Stage 3 might view the questioning Stage 4 spouse as departing from what they thought was a shared vision of their lives together. A spouse who is at Stage 4 might experience the Stage 3 spouse as being unsympathetic or judgmental. When we do not prepare our communities for the almost certain inevitability of differing rates of progression through the faith stages, some of which may present as retrograde progress, we set them up for misery and troubled or failed marriages.

The causes of divorce in any particular marriage are complex. Explicitly or implicitly communicating that various manifestations of faith stage development are pathological introduces yet another handicap into the mix of factors that may lead a couple to divorce. An explicit message that a progression through different faith stages is normal and consistent with Jewish tradition would support individuals and couples and help them view their spouses more kindly and charitably in the eventuality of a faith stage disparity.

Perhaps this is what is meant by the phrase ezer k’negdo in Genesis (2:18 and 2:20). Even when one spouse opposes the other ritually or theologically with every fiber of his or her body due to a faith stage disparity, one must still find a way to support the other spouse’s spiritual growth. Couples who are unable to grow spiritually together, with all the pain and struggle that might entail, will surely grow apart.

Conclusion

I am hopeful that we can frame future discussions in a way that we can view some of the phenomena presented above as normal as opposed to pathological. We need to give each member of our community space, at whatever faith stage they are, to experience that stage and to attain the convictions of that stage, free from outside interference, free from judgment, and free from any of the messages or behaviors on the part of others that might threaten their physical, emotional, economic, or spiritual safety. As a community, we can afford to be much more “on message” about normal faith development and conduct ourselves in ways that are conducive to individuals attaining temimut at whatever faith stage they are, thereby enabling them to fulfill their mission in this world and bring about the ultimate redemption, please God, speedily and in our days.

To our members and friends,

It has been a remarkably productive year for our educational offerings through the Institute for Jewish Ideas an Ideals. For my annual report, please see here https://www.jewishideas.org/article/national-scholar-fifth-year-report.

Here are some upcoming offerings for the summer months:

On June 24-25 (Sunday-Monday), I will give five classes at Yeshivat Chovevei Torah’s annual study days on Bible and Jewish Thought. It will be held at the SAR High School in Riverdale: 503 W 259th St, Bronx, NY. The event is co-sponsored by the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.

For more information and to register, go to http://www.yctorah.org/giving/yemeiiyun/.

On Shabbat, July 6-7, I will be scholar-in-residence for the Sephardic Community Alliance in Deal, New Jersey.

On Wednesdays, July 11, 18, and 25, from 10:30-11:45 am, I will give a three-part series on the Parashah at Lamdeinu, Teaneck, at Congregation Beth Aaron, 950 Queen Anne Road, Teaneck, New Jersey. To register, go to http://www.lamdeinu.org/

This past year, I have worked with the senior administration at Ben Porat Yosef Yeshiva Day School in Paramus, New Jersey on a revolutionary new Tanakh curriculum. They will be rolling out the first phase, for grades 1-3, this coming year. You can read the recent newspaper article by Rabbi Saul Zucker in the Jewish Link of New Jersey at https://www.jewishlinknj.com/features/25472-fluency-and-mastery-beginning-with-foundations

We are coming along beautifully for our special communal programs for the coming year. In my next report, I will post the final schedule. These new programs will take our educational offerings to a much higher level of involvement in the broader Jewish community.

As always, thank you for all of your support, and we will continue to spread our vision to the broader Jewish community.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel

National Scholar

Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals

Even rationalists like me can read, enjoy, and learn from the writings of mystics. We do not have to accept everything they say as being true, but there are things they say which are true.

Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook was born in Latvia in 1865 and died in Jerusalem in 1935. His father was a Mitnaged, opposed to mysticism. His mother was a descendant of Chabad, a Chasidic group. When asked “What will you be?” he answered “I will be both.” In 1920, at the age of fifty-five, he moved to Jerusalem and became its Ashkenazic chief rabbi.

Rabbi Kook’s writings are generally, but not always very mystical and difficult to understand. However, Rabbi Ari Ze’ev Schwartz’s book “The Spiritual Revolution of Rav Kook” unravels the writings with a new translation, with each chapter being divided into clearly stated topic headings added by Rabbi Schwartz, such as the individual, Torah, God, teshuvah, prayer, creativity, Zionism, science, and vegetarianism. Rabbi Schwartz also introduces each section with a clear explanation of what Rabbi Kook is saying.

Rabbi Kook became Ashkenazic chief rabbi long before the State of Israel was reestablished in 1948. He lived during a period when the vast majority of pioneers who sacrificed their lives and came to Israel and faced difficulties in their attempts to build up the land of Israel were irreligious Jews, often men and women who were antagonistic to religion. He is properly credited and even commended for working to draw all people close, even those who rebelled against religion. He taught that each person should want to influence friends and be influenced by them for the increase of the greater good. It is through the combining of different talents within each individual that a society is formed. He also taught that everyone should find a personal Torah and realize that there is not just one type of Torah, but an endless variety that can speak to countless individuals in different ways.

The following are some other of Rabbi Kook’s ideas:

The highest type of thinking remains open to new ideas. No one has a monopoly on truth. There is truth in other religions.

Secular knowledge is important. We must teach our children what is necessary for them to know as they confront the trials of life.

I walk around with an overwhelming jealousy of the secular world. It is a jealousy that consumes me. For is it really possible that the power of creativity has ceased within the religious world?

Atheists may be on the right track. They may be denying an immature and distorted image of God. In other words, their denial of God is really a deeper quest for a higher, more sophisticated understanding. Atheism comes to purify the dirt, the embarrassments, that have stuck to a religion that lacks any comprehension. Religious people should understand this, and pay attention to what is bothering them.

One should not only study a religious text to receive a new idea; it should serve as a tool toward understanding oneself.

The role of an author of any book is to begin the discussion of an idea, yet it is the reader’s responsibility to respond by searching for personal meaning.

The ideal perfection of a person can only be accomplished by focusing one’s energy on improving one’s own individual self as much as possible. Yet at the same time a person should keep in mind that one’s own individual perfection will never be completed until the Jewish people have successfully reached national perfection.

People should realize that being totally perfect is unattainable and should understand that a person’s true greatness is found in the journey of constantly striving to become a little better.

More than asking God to forgive our misdeeds, we should learn to forgive ourselves and work to assure we do not repeat our mistakes.

Personal growth requires us to first clarify what is the character trait we want to assume, and only after knowing this to try to embody it.

A person who thinks that prayer changes God’s will is blaspheming.

The demand for physical activity is enormous. We need healthy bodies. But we have focused on our souls and have forgotten the holiness of the body.

We must agree with Maimonides who taught that the stories of creation told in the Torah should not be understood literally; rather, they have a deeper lesson to teach.

It is hard to believe that God created a world that Genesis 1:31 calls “very good,” and yet made it impossible for humankind to survive without distorting its moral sensitivity by murdering animals.

One of the remarkable features of the Jewish People is our incredible diversity. We have an amazing treasure of teachings, customs, folklore, spiritual insights...from Jewish communities spanning thousands of years and flourishing in many lands.  As we appreciate the "wholeness" of the Jewish People, we provide ourselves and our new generations with a sense of sharing in the grandness of the Jewish experience.

For a variety of reasons, Jewish education has largely focused on the history, traditions and personalities of the Ashkenazic communities. Indeed, there is much to learn from the Ashkenazic experience, and all of us are strengthened and enlightened by it. However, Jewish education has largely tended to ignore or under-emphasize the history, traditions and personalities of the Sephardic and pan-Sephardic Jewish communities.  In some sense, it is as though the Sephardim dropped out of history after their expulsion from Spain in 1492, and became even more obscure after the Shabbatai Sevi debacle in 1666. The history and culture of Sephardim, Middle Eastern and North African Jews are relatively unknown to large numbers of Jews.  And when attempts are made to be inclusive, they generally relate to foods and music...and almost never to intellectual and spiritual contributions.

The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals and the Sephardic Educational Center have launched a "Sephardic Initiative," to promote a greater inclusiveness and "wholeness" in Jewish education.

TEACHER EDUCATION:  We have sponsored three conferences for teachers in Jewish schools. In October 2017, 25 educators from 9 schools in the New York City area participated. In March 2018, 15 educators from 7 schools in the Los Angeles area participated.  In October, we held a conference in Paramus, New Jersey, with 20 educators in attendance. We are planning other conferences in cities throughout North America. These conferences provide practical information on how inclusiveness in Jewish education can be enhanced. Teachers engage in serious discussion and serious learning. Teachers are given a set of publications to help them in their own study of Sephardic/pan-Sephardic civilization.  Teachers write reports on how they have gone on to implement a Sephardic component in their classes, and these reports are circulated among the group so that they can learn from each other.

PUBLICATIONS: The Institute is planning a series of publications that will provide readily accesible material for educators, as well as for the general public. We have recently reprinted our pamphlet "Exploring Sephardic Customs and Traditions," and are in the process of arranging for other publications.

ONLINE EDUCATION:  We are planning to greatly increase our online presence, so as to be able to reach educators throughout the world. Rabbi Hayyim Angel recently conducted an inter-active session for teachers in South Africa...while he was at his desk in New Jersey.

EDUCATORS' RESOURCE CENTER:  Educators are invited to enroll in our Educators' Resource Center. There is no fee to register, and educators will receive various emailings, publications, links to informative material etc. To register, go to this link:  https://www.jewishideas.org/resources-educators

The "Sephardic Initiative" will certainly be of benefit to children who are themselves of Sephardic/Middle Eastern/North African backgrounds. By including materials from their traditions, they will feel a stronger sense of self-worth and a greater pride in their own community's role in the Jewish adventure. But this initiative is vitally important for children of non-Sephardic backgrounds as well. It will enhance and deepen their vision of the "wholeness" of the Jewish People. It will teach them the value of diversity and inclusivity, and will enable them to learn Jewish ideas and ideals that they otherwise would have missed.

The "Sephardic Initiative" has received initial funding from Nugi and Isabelle Jakobishvili, who provided a generous matching grant with the goal of our raising a minimum of $100,000 for this project.

We invite you to support the "Sephardic Initiative," so that you will be the Institute's partner in advancing a highly significant enhancement of Jewish education. You may contribute online at jewishideas.org or you may send your check to Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals, 2 West 70th Street, New York, NY  10023. If you contribute on our website, please also email [email protected] to let us know that the contribution is to be earmarked for the "Sephardic Initiative."  If you send a check, please note in the memo section that it's for the "Sephardic Initiative."

A hundred years from now, the ethnic components of Judaism will be very different from what they are now. We will have a Judaism that is composed of many of the best contributions of Jews and Jewish communities from throughout our history and throughout the world. We need to ensure that the voices of the Sephardic/pan-Sephardic world are part of the Jewish future. We need to do this as an investment in a stronger, happier and wiser Jewish People.

Introduction

On the first of September, Yael (not her real name), a 10-yearold
student at a Beit Ya’acov elementary school for girls,
arrived at what had been her school for the past four years.
However, upon arrival this time, she was told to enter her school through
a new gate. “From now on,” the teacher told her, “this is going to be your
entrance to the school.” Later that day, she discovered that her classmates
were all of Sephardic extraction. She was also told she should have no contact
whatsoever with any of her former Ashkenazi classmates. At the end
of this first sad day of school, making her way home full of shame and
hurt, she encountered Sarah (not her real name), her beloved friend for
the past four years, and was shocked to learn that they had different uniforms
and different timetables for arriving at school. Yael’s life, as she knew
it, had changed forever.

Yael is one of 180 Sephardic pupils attending the separate school for
Sephardim in the city of Emanuel in Israel. Her story sheds light on the
shocking facts regarding segregation in education within Jewish communities
in Israel. I write this article to call attention to this segregation and
to propose innovative ways to combat it, from my unique perspective as a
public-interest attorney representing disenfranchised communities and as
a legal scholar criticizing discriminatory mechanisms through the law.

Ethnic discrimination has been a continual struggle for Sephardim in
Israeli society since the establishment of the state of Israel. Upon arrival
from their countries of origin, Sephardic Jews were categorized as
“Mizrahim” (“Easterners”, or Jews from Arab or Muslim countries), a
social and cultural category that was invented just for them at that time.
However, though established in the past, this category is still meaningful
sixty years later. Mizrahim in Israel continue to suffer from structural
injustices. Statistics prove they have a high unemployment rate, comprise
a disproportionate percentage of Israel’s prison and social welfare populations,
and suffer substantial underachievement in education. These deficiencies
have held steady or even increased over Israel’s six decades of
statehood. (See Oren Yiftachel, Nation-Building or Ethnic Fragmentation?
Ashkenazim, Mizrahim and Arabs in the Israeli Frontier, 1 Space and Polity
2, 149-169 (1997); Hubert Lu-Yon and Rachel Kalush, Housing in Israel:
Policy and Inequality (1994). Although Mizrahim today comprise a larger
share of formally educated society, recent research indicates that the gap
itself between Mizrahim and Ashkenazim in education has grown in the
last decades. See Momi Dahan, “He is (Not) Entitled—Has the Gap in
Education Narrowed?” in Education and Social Justice in Israel—On Equal
Opportunities in Education 19 (Samuel Shay et al, 2003).)

A clear example of ethnic discrimination is revealed in the story that
began this article. Yael’s experience exposes the reality of ethnic segregation
that is currently being practiced at a religious elementary school for
girls in the city of Emanuel. The students have been physically separated
within this school based solely on ethnicity. The school, which was once
one school, has now been virtually divided into two schools, with the
Sephardic students separated from the Ashkenazi students and the two
groups housed in two isolated buildings. The school administration has
taken steps to further separate these buildings, using such shocking tactics
as building a concrete wall to prevent any form of interaction between
the two groups. Furthermore, the school enclosed the Sephardic students’
playground area behind a plastic cloth fence (Cloth of Utah), to conceal
any view of them as they played outside. This shunning treatment recalls
the historical treatment of leprosy patients who were sent to live in separate
colonies, or the racial segregation of black students from white stu-
dents in the United States, which was one of the main triggers for the civil
rights movement. The school’s administration has rationalized its actions
by going so far as to stigmatize Mizrahi culture and individuals as suffering
from “lower spiritual levels” than the Ashkenazim.

This repulsive and mentally abusive treatment towards Mizrahi students
has already inflicted profound damage. The students have expressed
deep feelings of pain, discrimination, shame, confusion, poor self-esteem,
and inferiority to their Ashkenazi fellows.

However, the elementary school in Emanuel is only one of many in
the Beit Ya’acov chain of schools which discriminate, on a regular basis,
against their Sephardic students vis-à-vis their Ashkenazi classmates.
Moreover, similar allegations have recently been made, and confirmed,
concerning other ultra-Orthodox schools in such places as Beitar-Elit,
Elad and Jerusalem, where students were required, in their registration
forms, to supply seemingly irrelevant details regarding the ethnic origin of
their parents and similar data clearly aimed at collecting as much information
as possible to enable the school administration to build an ethnic profile
of prospective students. There are even cases where students who had
an Ashkenazi father and, consequently, an Ashkenazi surname, but who
physically resembled their Sephardic mother, were not admitted to the
Ashkenazi class, whilst their friends with similar ethnic profile who bore
a more “European”-like appearance were found eligible to attend this
same Ashkenazi class.

This “separate but equal” mentality—which was long ago declared
unconstitutional by the U.S. Supreme Court—tries to justify giving different
groups of people separate facilities or services by claiming that each
group still receives an equal quality of service. However, this mentality and
practice are far from being equal; on the contrary, it promotes a distorted
perception of the ‘other’ and only perpetuates separation, racism, abusive
treatment, culturally-based notions of ethnic hierarchy and, most of all,
immense pain.

One of the most troubling facts about this discriminatory apparatus is
its institutionalized character. Although Beit Ya’acov schools are considered
an informal independent school system, separate and different from
Israel’s formal state school system and operating with educational autonomy,
the Beit Ya’acov schools in fact enjoy official recognition by Israel’s
Ministry of Education and receive a substantial portion of their annual
budget from the state’s coffers. In other words, not only does the Ministry
of Education refrain from interfering with the discriminatory practices of
these schools—on the excuse of reluctance to interfere with these communities’
autonomy—the Ministry even finances this discrimination with
Israeli taxpayers’ money.

The Legal Battle against Discrimination in Ultra-Orthodox
Education. The Traditional Path—Too Little, Too Late

The phenomenon of ethnic-based discrimination in Israel’s education system
has yet to receive appropriate public or legal attention, as would be
expected of a society that clings to the ideal of equality as Israel does. The
few legal battles fought thus far on this issue have centered on Israel’s
administrative courts, where the defendants were the local authorities
where the discriminating school was located, and the plaintiffs had asked
the court to declare the criteria for admission to these schools as being
discriminatory. Based on facts proved before it, the administrative high
court has ruled in the past that the quota system which then governed Beit
Ya’acov Schools (permitting no more than 30% of students to be of
Mizrahi origin) was in fact prohibited by law, and that the local authorities
should be held responsible for enforcing the anti-discrimination laws
in their community.

In response, the schools eliminated the quota practice as a formal one,
and embraced a new practice based on meritocracy alone, which “miraculously”
resulted in no more than 30% of Beit Ya’acov students being of
Sephardic origin,

It was obvious that a different legal course of action needed to be
taken. That is where the Tmura Center, joined by the Achoti organization,
stepped in.

The New Legal Agenda

Tmura (means both “change” and “exchange” in Hebrew) is a nonprofit
organization that offers pro-bono legal representation to disenfranchised
minorities in Israel, including women, Ethiopian Jews, and Mizrahim, on
issues ranging from education to housing and land distribution, to rape,
sexual offenses and violence against women. Achoti (My Sister) was
founded by Mizrahi feminist social activists seeking to bring social justice
issues to the center of public discourse and to enhance women’s solidarity.
Tmura—which was founded by and employs only attorneys who are
graduates of ISEF’s scholarship and leadership training programs—has an
agenda of reform.(ISEF—the International Sephardic Educational
Foundation, seeks to narrow Israel’s wide social and economic gaps by
providing equal access to higher education for capable young Israelis from
disadvantaged communities.)

The organization maintains that Israel’s social wealth should be redistributed
using private market principles, internalizing the high costs of
discrimination and reframing it as financially unprofitable behavior for the
discriminating parties. Using the private tort law mechanism, Tmura compels
governmental organizations and corporate bodies to face the individual
who has suffered discrimination in the courtroom, to acknowledge the
unfairness of its policy, and to pay for its harmful consequences—thus
ultimately inducing these organizations to seek a better, non-discriminatory
solution.

In the Beit Ya’acov school case, the purpose of our intervention is to
stop the discrimination immediately, so that all students may learn fairly
and equally together in the same classroom. Additionally, we seek compensation
for the school’s Mizrahi students for the shame and disgrace
they have endured.

We are therefore working on several simultaneous legal planes. First,
we have sought an immediate injunction against the school, to compel it
to eliminate all sorts of discrimination to which the girls are subjugated.
Second, we have asked for immediate government intervention to reassign
government funds allocated to the school; those funds would henceforth
be administered by a nondiscriminatory professional committee appointed
by the Ministry of Education. Additionally, a formal complaint was filed
with the police, demanding the immediate enforcement of laws strictly
and clearly banning any discriminatory practices at the school.

In my opinion, it is the duty of Israeli courts to set a precedent in such
cases and bring about systemic change with the goal of abolishing discrimination
of this kind. Such rulings would encourage others from this community
to come forward and fight this discrimination, which has gone on
far too long. The religious community should no longer feel its practices
are beyond the reach of Israel’s legal system.

The Main Difficulties in Using the Legal System

The main problem in combating anti-Mizrahi discrimination in the education
system is that this discrimination is largely hidden, and there is little
or no public awareness of this issue. While the situation at the Beit
Ya’acov school in Emanuel has supplied concrete evidence of the larger
problems within the education system, using this case as a “model case”
imposes some other difficulties which are unique to this specific case.

The ultra-Orthodox community is usually an extremely closed society,
with many issues kept inside the community and not addressed in
Israel’s state secular courts—especially issues of discrimination against
minorities (women and Sephardim). In the past, Tmura representatives
have proposed to the leading rabbis of this community to take these issues
to court; however, these suggestions were repeatedly rejected, as this community
regards Israel’s courts as illegitimate agents of a secular system
whose very existence this community opposes. However, in the Emanuel
case, Tmura and Achoti have, for the first time, been given permission by
Sephardic rabbinical authorities to take this very disturbing issue to a secular
court due to its severe circumstances. It is indeed rare for the rabbis
of the community to grant permission to take this issue before a secular
court. Therefore, it is obvious that this opportunity for an action is rare
and precious.

One last objection to legal recourse as a solution to discrimination is
its inherently limited social impact. No single court case can change such
deeply embedded practices. Therefore, in addition to taking legal action,
public awareness about this situation has also been raised through a strategic
campaign, which climaxed with a demonstration against both the
Ministry of Education and the leadership of the Beit Ya’acov Schools, held
in the very heart of Jerusalem’s ultra-Orthodox neighborhood.

Epilogue

Yael’s story is not hers alone; it is not even the story of her 180 classmates;
it is rather the story of many Sephardic pupils in Israel today.
Discriminatory practices against them within the educational system are
not limited to the ultra-Orthodox community. The mainstream Orthodox
educational system is also regularly accused of discriminatory practices,
mainly vis-à-vis Ethiopians but also Sephardim. With Ethiopians, the segregation
is more blatant, as was recently demonstrated in the case of
Yeshurun School in Petach Tikva, where four Ethiopian girls were totally
separated from the rest of the students. Yet with regard to Mizrahim,
more subtle practices are also common. For example, the Zeitlin Middle
and High School for Girls in Ramat-Gan maintains de facto separate
classes for the “different” girls. At the prestigious Netiv Meir Yeshiva in
Jerusalem for boys, the number of Mizrahi students never exceeds a certain
low percentage. Similar practices have even been found at some of
the top schools in the state secular school system, where such discriminatory
practices are truly impossible to trace and combat effectively, since
from a legal perspective, it is of course easier to fight against the more blatant
and traceable ones.

Within Israel’s education system, the Mizrahi community has been
deprived over the decades of full and equal opportunity for education,
resulting in low achievements and an absence of leadership within the
community. This reality calls for concerted action to ensure that future generations
of young Mizrahi Jews in Israel do not grow up with the negative
impact of discrimination on their future; rather, we need to educate and
cultivate strong leaders within their communities and ensure that they
enjoy the true equal protection of the law. This struggle can serve as another
breach in the wall, leading to an equal and fair society for all Israel’s citizens
and strengthening Israel’s long-term sustainability as a whole.

Over the last 50 years American Orthodoxy has managed to
create a national community that is successful in the realm of
imparting knowledge, Jewish commitment and continuity.
Over the past years Orthodox rabbis convinced entire communities to
change their eating habits by refraining from “eating out” and to raise a
generation of Jewishly literate and deeply committed youth by sending
their children, at great personal expense, to Jewish day schools. It is precisely
these rabbis, on the heels of these successes, who can galvanize the
Orthodox community to broaden its focus in a way that can contribute so
much to the American Jewish community, and the world at large. Because
of the strength and vitality of our community, in many ways the envy of
other denominations, an engaged and relevant Orthodoxy could reshape
the way Orthodoxy is perceived by broadening the Orthodox conversation.

Orthodoxy represents a very small part of American Jewry. Small
numbers notwithstanding, Orthodoxy, specifically Modern Orthodoxy,
must start believing that it has a contribution to make to the larger Jewish
world. While not all Jews will become Orthodox, Modern Orthodoxy
must begin to speak to all Jews. Modern Orthodoxy must make a claim of
relevance. A number of strategies need to be employed if Modern
Orthodoxy wishes to be heard beyond the boundaries of her adherents.

First, Modern Orthodoxy must see itself as a full participant in the
activities of the wider Jewish community. This would include participation
and support of Federation activities, Jewish Family Services, Local Boards
of Jewish Education, communal endeavors of Jewish learning as well as
National Organizations like American Jewish World Service. In order for
our opinions to matter, we must be seen and heard in the places where the
broader Jewish community meets and studies.

Related to this is the need for Modern Orthodoxy to become a movement
that speaks to all Jews by relating to the full gamut of human conditions.
This includes Jews whose lifestyle deviates from Halakhic norms.
Modern Orthodox communities have managed to integrate those who do
not observe Shabbat and Kashrut in the traditional sense without creating
the perception of condoning that behavior; we can and must do the same
for all Jews.

Second, Modern Orthodoxy needs to speak out on the major cultural
and ethical issues of the day. Darfur, materialism, poverty, global warming
and immigration are just some of the issues facing the American and
world public. The imperative to imitate God, understood by Maimonides
as stemming from the verse “God is good to all and his kindness extends
to all His creations,” establishes a moral responsibility on our part to speak
out and to act on issues facing humanity.

While Orthodoxy must maintain concern for the details of the laws of
the Torah, Modern Orthodoxy must expand the discussion to include the
ethical, moral and social issues that are part and parcel of the broader message
of the Torah. We have a unique potential to make the wisdom of an
ancient tradition compelling to a modern diverse audience. The broader
American Jewish community, indeed, all of our fellow citizens, both
Jewish and gentile, could benefit from the Torah’s perspective on contemporary
issues translated into modern language.

Third, Modern Orthodoxy must promote those traditional, though
often neglected interpretations of Halakha which are faithful to Jewish law,
while at the same time compassionate and open. Jewish law must be
applied in ways that make halakhic living attainable to as many Jews as
possible. Kashrut, conversion and family purity are all areas where stringent
rulings can give way to halakhically recognized approaches that
would help people realize that living according to Halakha is a realistic
goal. Orthodoxy is fast becoming a world of humrot—stringencies, while
the koah d’hetera, the priority often given to leniency, is quickly disappear
ing. The point of is to bring more people to observance of Halakha; as
more people recognize that they can live according to Halakha in specific
areas, more will be willing to try it in other areas.

In a similar vein, while community rabbis should consult with academics
and rabbinic scholars, it is the rabbis who are in the synagogues
who must ultimately set the agenda message and tone of the Modern
Orthodox community. It is the community rabbis who are “in the trenches”
and therefore understand the social, religious and economic realities of
the Jewish community. It is the community rabbis who feel a personal
responsibility towards members of the community and will therefore do
all that is possible to find viable answers to those problems.

Finally, Modern Orthodoxy must begin to tackle issues of the spirit,
meaning and relevance of Judaism. When people find meaning in the
Orthodox system they will feel spiritually connected to it.

Questions like: What do the myriad steps that need to be taken before
meat is rendered kosher teach us about the Jewish view of eating meat?
What do the laws of the Sabbatical year teach us about labor relations and
property ownership? How can a full understanding of the laws of Shabbat
impact social and family life? Should the Biblical laws prohibiting waste
and destruction impact on our choice of the cars that we drive, as well as
the food we waste at our lavish weddings and bar/bat mitzvahs?

An Orthodoxy that is able to present a system of Judaism that taps into
these and other foundational issues of life will be viewed as spiritually fulfilling
and meaningful.

In order to achieve all of the above, Modern Orthodoxy must develop
self-confidence and stop looking over its right and left shoulders hoping
for approval and acceptance from others. Doing so is self defeating and is
largely responsible for the reason Orthodox Judaism remains irrelevant to
so many.

Modern Orthodoxy, as a movement grounded in Jewish text and tradition,
while at the same time appreciating the fluid nature of modern reality,
is the Jewish movement in America best suited to speak to the issues
of the day with conviction and confidence. We have a unique message that
can benefit the entire American Jewish community. We have to stop preaching

only to the choir.

But when Moses’ father-in-law saw how much he had to do for the people, he said, “What is this thing that you are doing to the people? Why do you act alone, while all the people stand about you from morning until evening?”

—Shemot 18:14

As spiritual leaders, it is often our instinct to act alone. Even if we are trained to be collaboratively minded and value the importance of teamwork, many of us still are drawn to the enticing option of getting things done ourselves, with our own rules and on our own time. The research on leadership that has emerged recently has shown, however, that good leadership is characterized by collaboration and the coming together of shared strengths.

We want to present the unique case of shared leadership in the context of Orthodox synagogue life. In 2016, Beth Sholom Congregation in Potomac, Maryland, hired a female professional, a graduate of Yeshivat Maharat, (the co-author of this article) to serve on its clergy staff. We have learned a tremendous amount in the two years since this decision was made, and one of most striking lessons was around the importance of a shared-gender leadership team in Orthodox shuls.

We have several goals in this article. First, while it won’t be a comprehensive review, we will present the idea of shared leadership. We will then move on to a discussion of our own experiences, highlighting an argument for the responsibility of shared-gender leadership in Orthodox synagogues. Finally, we will offer a case study on how our approach generated a dynamic response to an American moment around women coming forward in cases of sexual harassment and assault.  

An article in the Harvard Business Review, In Praise of the Incomplete Leader (2007), pushes back against the idea that puts a single leader on a pedestal. Rather, the authors suggest that it is time to move away from the idea that one person has it all “figured out.”  A changing world, they argue, requires us to lead differently, and it is only “when leaders come to see themselves as incomplete—as having both strengths and weaknesses—will they be able to make up for their missing skills by relying on others.” In addition to a concrete benefit, there is also an important spiritual value to leading with your strengths and letting others lead with theirs. When Avraham responds “hineini,” Rashi comments that he responds with humility. A tremendous insight is brought forth through Rashi’s comment: Humility does not mean making oneself so small to the point of disappearance; it means realizing what gifts you have and saying hineini—you’re present and ready to use them. Other models of collaboration—Moshe, Aharon, and Miriam being the prime examples—teach us this same lesson. One cannot, and should not, lead alone. Each leader’s skills were important to transition a group of slaves to becoming Am Yisrael.

        If possible, it is an incredible thing for a community to be managed by more than one clergy member. A good collaborative team should include leaders of diverse interests, background, and life positions, holding each other accountable, all bringing their strengths to the table. Upon reflection, however, the two of us want to suggest that while considering the approach of shared leadership in Orthodox synagogues, gender should be take a front seat when considering diversity. Women should be a part of synagogue spiritual leadership in matters of organizational participation, Torah scholarship, spiritual mentorship, halakhic guidance, and pastoral care.  Neither of us believes that there should be a model of male spiritual leaders for the men only and female spiritual leaders for the women only. All congregants benefit from the perspective and guidance of male and female spiritual leaders with their distinct gendered experience and background.

      That said, at the most basic level, much of shul action happens when the community is separated by a mehitza. Families celebrate semahot, men and women come to say Kaddish for the first or last time, or they show up to shul for the first time after an extended illness or joyous milestone. These moments often happen during communal prayer, when men and women are already sitting on their respective sides of a mehitza. A spiritual leader on one side, though able to offer a supportive glance from afar, may have a difficult time really being present and addressing the emotional and spiritual needs of congregants on the other side. Furthermore, while some community members who feel comfortable addressing all issues with their clergy members, others feel more comfortable when they can choose the gender of their clergy member, particularly on deeply intimate matters.

        In two years, there have been more moments than we can count that underscore this approach. A few months ago, a woman came to shul at the end of 11 months to say her final Kaddish. Had the male clergy co-author been the only clergy member present, he would have had no idea that this was her last Kaddish because of the mehitza, unless she had told him in advance. The female clergy was present, saw the nuance in the woman’s emotional presence, and learned that she was showing up for the final Kaddish for her father. She quickly arranged and guided the mourner in reciting a tefillah that we say on completion of the Kaddish. Imagine the scene: The female clergy member, holding and guiding her through the tefillah, clutching her hand as she navigated this important transition. The male clergy member, able to get up right after and see what was happening, announced the deceased relative’s name before sharing a Mishna in his memory. There are countless times we have a feeling after minyan, as we walk into our respective offices, that what we just accomplished needed to be done together. This very holy and special moment demonstrates the unique need for a mixed gender clergy partnership in Orthodoxy.

While the anecdote above is primarily about female spiritual leaders assisting those on the women’s side of the mehitza, there have been many times after our female spiritual leader gave a sermon on a given Torah topic that men in the shul have commented how important it was for them to hear Torah from a woman filtered through her experience and learning background.     Because of our partnership, the issue of sexual harassment and assault came to the foreground. A few months ago, as a result of much deliberation and planning, we started a conversation around sexual harassment and assault. To the two of us, a typical sermon did not seem to be the right approach to engage in meaningful conversation about such an urgent and sensitive subject, one that is—for good reason—so central to media discourse right now.

While it is a complex discussion and we went back and forth on the particulars, we came to three conclusions: First, we must speak about it and bring the conversation to our community. This is not just an issue of “them,” but also of “us.” Sexual harassment and violence happens in our Jewish community; it includes both victims and perpetrators, and we too are implicated and impacted by the discussions that are happening.  Part of being a Kehilla Kedosha (a holy community) means that we provide support and strength for people who are struggling and in pain on an entire range of issues, including victims of sexual harassment and assault. Our spiritual communities should be places where we can bring our anxieties and full selves, regardless of how challenging the conversations are.

Second, for the two of us, a male-female clergy team, it was important to give a sermon together, to model what conversations on this topic can look like between men and women. The conversations between the two of us leading up to the sermon were very significant as they enabled us to better understand the way that many men and women were struggling with these issues. Therefore, our presentation began with a shared sermon where amidst words of Torah about the weekly Torah portion, the female clergy member shared a story of her own sexual trauma, while the senior male clergy member modeled listening and response.

Third, in the spirit of collaboration and shared leadership, we believed that our talk should be followed by a community driven space for discussion, reflection, and action. We were fortunate to collaborate with the Jewish Coalition Against Domestic Abuse (JCADA) and mental health professionals within our community to facilitate three breakout groups after the sermon. One group for men only, one for women only, and a mixed gendered group facilitated by JCADA that was about asking difficult questions and getting more information and resources. Our deep hope was that anyone who wants to ask hard questions was able to feel like they can—that in our spiritual community, there would be room to hold nuance in a world increasingly unable to do so. Therefore, we provided the types of spaces that can model what asking hard questions in a patient, gentle, and curious way can look like.

While we certainly did not have all the answers, we knew that it was critically important to create a space that would provide support for those affected by harassment and assault, encourage victims and bystanders to find their voice to protect themselves and others, and enable all of to grapple with these challenging questions together, as a community. In order for this unique model to come to fruition, the two of us needed to work as a unit, bringing forward our honest perspectives as we grappled with the issues.

Conclusion

Joseph Raelin (2005), leadership scholar, encourages practitioners to move from conceptions of leadership that are serial, individual, controlling, and dispassionate to what he calls “leaderful” organizations, which champion leadership that almost sounds virtue based—it is concurrent, collective, collaborative, and compassionate. We believe that it is time to move in that direction. Most Orthodox settings are exclusively led by men. In the last century or so, we have seen a dramatic change in attitudes and practices throughout different types of Orthodox communities when it comes to the role and participation of women in various aspects of Jewish intellectual, communal, and, in many instances, ritual life. Our communities will grow stronger in Torah observance and vibrancy with the introduction of mixed-gender communal and spiritual leadership models. We are fully aware that this is only the beginning of the conversation. The examples and stories for why it is important to have mixed-gender leadership teams are now rushing in. We look forward to being in partnership with our larger community in thinking about these issues.

Since the end of
World War II, both in America and Israel, Jews
have been at odds with one another for political, ethnic, ideological,
religious and/or denominational reasons.
That different groups have divergent worldviews has been the case since
Biblical times. But the competing
factions today appear more hostile than ever before. The Orthodox -- particularly the
ultra-Orthodox with their high birth rates, expanding schools systems, and
increased political clout, coupled with a sense of triumphalism -- are often perceived as the most vociferous
and intolerant participants in these internecine squabbles of our people.

I believe that
the Orthodox, who have contributed their fair share of the hostility that
prevails among the different groups, could and should lead a healing process,
and lead all of kelal yisrael (the
people of Israel) to a
shared vision. Because of our adherence
to halakha (Jewish Law), our connection
to traditional learning, our historical authenticity, and our success, modern
Orthodoxy should be providing guidance, leadership, and direction -- not only
to its own enclave but to a much wider berth of Jewry. Regrettably, modern Orthodoxy has shrunk from
this task.

However, I
believe that in order for this essential healing and unity to occur, the modern
Orthodox may need to distance themselves from the ultra-Orthodox. Orthodoxy
must shift back to the center, a center that addresses the pluralistic needs
of, and provides the leadership for, all of Jewry. To accomplish this, we have to reconsider our
historic allegiances to the halakhic hegemony of the Lithuanian roshei yeshiva, (revered terms for heads
of yeshivot) and the Hassidic leaders. In
most instances, they view the modern Orthodox as Hellenizers. We are really not part of their world, yet
they seek to dictate our philosophy and political thought. Hence there is a need to create a distance
between us, to enable us to act independently of their authority, yet be able
to work together when called for.

Before I
continue, let me state that I do not refer to myself as Orthodox. Nevertheless, an Orthodox synagogue is the
locus of my spiritual aspirations, the hub of my communal activities, it’s
where I go to prayer services and where I go to say kaddish (mourner’s prayer), and to celebrate my family semahot (life cycle events). Though my lifestyle falls within the
parameters of the modern Orthodox gestalt,
I believe that the term “orthodox” is misunderstood, and limits one’s ability
to interact positively with the rest of the Jewish world. Hence, like a good number of us who came of
age in observant homes during the decades after the war, I consider myself a
post-denominational Jew. However, for
purposes of this article, I include myself when using “we” to refer to the
modern Orthodox.

While I respect
and admire certain individual leaders for their scholarship and attributes, I
do not consider myself at all under the guidance of the ultra-Orthodox. By freeing myself from the dictates of the “gedolei hador” (giants of the
generation), I am at liberty to interact with Jews of all denominations. My tsedaka
(charity) is targeted to organizations and projects based on their merit and
not their affiliations. I can praise and
accept the teachings of those in all movements and can ignore what I see as the
arbitrariness and narrowness of the ultra-Orthodox or others when warranted.

What I also see is a Jewish educational
system that is lacking, day schools and congregational schools that are short
in funding and teachers, assimilation at an all time high, and enemies who pose
true threats -- and yet we obsess over minutiae. With
all of these issues engulfing us, the Orthodox most often do not have dialogue
or interaction with over 80% of our fellow Jews to find common ground.

At one level, our
problems are the reverse of the rest of modern Jewry. Outside of the Orthodox,
most leaders are plutocrats; that is, the moneyed class that contributes the
largest donations has most of the seats at the ruling tables. In the Haredi
world, in contrast, it is only the roshei yeshiva who call the shots. Very few businessmen, almost no women, and no
independent thinkers play a role. There is
very little challenge to the Torah scholars who believe, and have convinced
many of us, that they are infallible and that their interpretation of halakhic
decisions overrides all other considerations.

Menachem Kellner,
in the November 2006 issue of Covenant,
notes the fallacy of the prevailing concept of Maimonides’ influence on modern
Judaism. Maimonides, the rationalist,
the physician, envisioned a “remarkably naturalist religion of radical
responsibility.” It was Judaism that was
“deeply elitist and profoundly universalist.”
Kellner points out, as many of us have already observed, that Orthodox
Judaism of today does not adhere to a Maimonidean rationality, but rather to a
Kabbalistic worldview in which, Kellner says, “spiritual guides provide indispensible
intercession.” In such a mystical world
the “gedolei hador” relying on daat Torah
(knowledge of Torah) are deemed infallible, and their word is binding. This belief is held by the Orthodox masses
despite the fact that they advised the pre-war Jewish populations of Europe not to
escape to Palestine or
other parts. Most offensive to the
sensibilities of modern Orthodox constituency are the outrageous comments made
by certain haredi leaders. The former
chief rabbi of Israel and
spiritual leader of the Shas party, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef has said on various
occasions that the Holocaust victims are the reincarnated souls of sinners and
that Hurricane Katrina was retribution for President Bush’s support of
disengagement from Gaza.

The influence of
the haredi world has penetrated and continues to affect an ever larger swath of
traditional Jewry, primarily through teaching in modern Jewish day
schools. For the most part, the
haredim’s children do not get a higher education, or go to trade school. They learn in the kollel (advanced study institute) until it’s time to make a
living. One profession that is open and
welcoming to them is teaching in the modern Jewish day school, which suffers a
shortage of teachers because our own children are encouraged to seek more
lucrative careers. So our students have,
for two generations, been subject to the influence of these teachers and their
haredi visions. As the haredi community
has shifted to the right, they have dragged the modern Orthodox along. Very few leaders speak out against the newest
“humra (restriction) of the week,”
for fear that they, or their children, will be ostracized. The children, for
their own part, have bought into the haredi thinking because of the influence
of their teachers and peer pressure.
Such ostracization is not trivial, and can be harmful to their prospects
for jobs and marriage.

II

I suggest that a
new leadership of enlightened rabbinical and lay leaders be formed and assert
their leadership. If the modern Orthodox
are to provide guidance and direction to the entire House of Israel, we must
find common ground and work with the Conservative, Reform, and the
unaffiliated. While Orthodoxy has veered
to the right over the last half century under the spell of the haredim, the
Conservative shifted even further on the scale to the left (widening a gap that
was extremely narrow from the 1930s to the early 1960s) and the Reform movement
has dropped off the halakhic charts. We
need to formulate a weltanschauung to
Jewry that acknowledges that the majority of the Jews in the United
States, or the world for that matter,
are not, and for the foreseeable future, will not be traditionally observant.
Once that fact is accepted by the Orthodox, policies can be implemented that
will allow the modern Orthodox to influence, provide leadership for, and
participate in the governing of all of Jewry.

A possible
strategy, in part, is to follow the example of Habad. Some of their emissaries sit on councils,
Federation Continuity Commissions, and the like under the guise of recognizing
non-Orthodox clergy not as clergy, but as leaders of the Jewish Community -- a
thin veil, that gives them some sort of halakhic cover. For those who look for precedents, the Ibn
Ezra admired a commentator on the Humash (Pentateuch), R. Jeshua b. Judah – a prolific 11th
century writer, religious teacher and philosopher who also happened to be a
Karaite – a sect that recognized only the Scriptures as the sole and direct
source of the law, and that excluded the Oral tradition of the Rabbis. Despite the fundamental theological
differences, Maimonides was of the “belief that the Karaites should be treated
with respect, honor and kindness… as long as they do not slander the Talmud
(that they did not believe in). They may
be associated with and one may enter their homes, teach their children, bury
their dead and comfort their mourners.”
This suggests that the Orthodox attitude for the past century to our
fellow Jews may have been a bit overdone.

A more recent
example is Marc Shapiro’s book “Saul Lieberman and the Orthodox”. He cites numerous
examples of prominent halakhic authorities quoting, corresponding and
socializing with Rabbis Saul Lieberman and Louis Ginsburg, the stalwarts of the
Conservative movement and exalted professors and directors at the Jewish
Theological Seminary. It is of interest
to note that in instances where the scholarship of Lieberman and Ginsburg was
indispensable, some haredi authorities quoted only their initials, others cited
their work anonymously, or plagiarized it in their own name.

If ahavat yisrael (love of the fellow Jew)
is not enough of an incentive to be creative in reaching out across
denominational lines (and to date it hasn’t been), and if kol yisrael arevim zeh lazeh, (all of Jewry is responsible one to
another) does not motivate Orthodox Jews to aspire to leadership of more than
just their 20 % of the house of Israel, then perhaps one should consider simple
survival. The fate of all Jews is one,
in many respects. If the numbers of Jews continue to decline over time
(assimilation and low birth rate) as the general population increases, the
influence of all Jews is bound to wane.
Within the United States, the American political process pays close
attention to the Jewish community partly because of the swing vote that Jews
may carry in key states and localities and because of the funding provided by
the wealthy and primarily non-Orthodox Democratic and Republican donors. (It is ironic that while the ultra-Orthodox
are the most vociferous opponents of pluralism, in some rapidly growing and
financially impoverished communities it is government assistance programs that
help to support the haredi lifestyle.)

However, it would
be naïve to believe that the ultra-Orthodox will amend their predispositions
for any practical purpose that would violate what they believe to be the halakhic
norm. Any creative solutions for
leadership and the future must come from the modern Orthodox world.

The cohabitation
of ultra-Orthodoxy with its modern cousin has endured for half a century. While there have been benefits for the
modernists, (more learning, more schools, more books, and more kosher
facilities) the disadvantages are significant.
The haredim are enclavist, the modernists are universalists, the former
are inward looking, the latter are outward looking. The modernists have had little influence on
the ultras, but the latter have shaped the former. As a result, many in the formerly modern
community have become less Zionistic, less tolerant, and less likely to get
involved outside their community. They
focus more on the minutiae heeding the latest humrot and less on the majesty of
our heritage. They shy away from the
national umbrella organizations and as a result get less in funding for Jewish
education. Finally, were it not for the
influence of the ultra-Orthodox, women’s issues regarding prayer and learning
would have advanced at a far more rapid pace.

We shall remain
respectful of our brethren on the right and continue to regard them as
standard-bearers of the thinking that emerged in late 19th century
yeshivas of Lithuania and
among the Hassidic leaders of Central and Eastern
Europe. We
learn from their Torah insights, pray at their shtibelich (houses of prayer) at times, eat from their shehita (kosher dietary products) if we
so desire, and, if one is so inclined, solicit a blessing from their holy
men. We may admire certain positive
traits. But if we continue to follow their leadership, we will continue to be
dragged into a microcosm where the modern Orthodox do not want to go.

III

Because of some
the charity work in which I engage, I interact with Jews and their
organizations across all spectrums. And
while there is some innovation in the modern Orthodox world, much of the
creativity is coming from outside it.
Prayer groups, technology innovators, and incubators for new ideas
operate primarily within the realm of the other denominations and the
unaffiliated; all the while the Orthodox are missing the boat. Unprecedented amounts of financial resources
are available now -- probably more than in any period in our history -- with
which to do good, and the modern Orthodox are not getting a substantial piece
of that pie. There is talent outside our
community that we are not tapping. Much
of the gene pool of yesterday’s towering Torah giants do not opt for the
cloistered world of a religious order, and are today’s hedge fund managers,
Goldman Sachs partners, chairmen of philosophy departments, and directors of
medical centers. If we are to thrive, we
must tap into their talents, not only their resources. For that to happen, we need a kinder,
gentler, more tolerant and flexible Orthodoxy.

With so much from
our rich heritage to offer, and with the knowledge and facility to promote an
authentic Judaism on an intellectual and emotional level, it is a travesty that
we have not been doing so at a more optimal level. We need to promote our message, one that is non-coercive,
to a much wider audience, without proselytizing. We should learn from the models that seem to
work. Habad, whose success has been
staggering in reaching out to thousands of previously unaffiliated Jews, has
catered very successfully to a particular segment of Jewish society, and aspects
of their work should be emulated. Yet a
much wider audience of young Jews would not find Habad appealing. Hence, we must go outside the comfort zone of
the Orthodox, and create a halakhic version of the West
Side’s B’nai Jeshurun. Whatever issues one may have with their
approach, about 2,500 young people are observing a form of Shabbat on 87th
Street on Friday nights who otherwise
would be partying at a club. If we
believe that our Judaic tradition is for the Jewish people, and that its
doctrine, morals and ethics are for all of humanity, then we need to muster the
will and creativity to overcome the halakhic obstacles to move forward in
reaching out to our Jewish brethren and all of humankind.

While I doubt
that the divisions of patrilineal descent and gay clergy will ever be resolved,
there have been overtures and positive steps taken to reverse the trend of
hostility and move forward toward recognizing a commonality among all
Jews. The Reform have been leaning
towards tradition, and in Israel the
Kinneret Declaration stated a core agreement on Israel’s
democratic values as a home to secular, traditional and religious Jews. Flashes
of creative leadership have begun to move a process along that many thought
impossible.

Those streams of
Judaism that differ with the modern Orthodox tradition, even those that ignore
fundamental aspects of traditional theology, do share a common language, an
affinity to a more majestic vision, and may share a common fate, if not
destiny, with the Jewish people. If we,
as modern Orthodox, could maintain a degree of flexibility and tolerance, we
could lead klal yisrael toward a
Jewish unity with bonds much stronger, deeper, and far more meaningful than
today’s vague notion of a tribal connection.

Let us move
forward. Let us rely on those leaders whose vision is shared by a large part of
the modern Orthodox world. Let the haredim
continue in their historical role, while we uphold our tradition looking
forward, relating to and tapping into the talents of all of Jewry, embracing
what is good in world culture, and accepting universalism within the bounds of
tradition. We have an immense amount to
offer world Jewry. If we succeed in
reducing the tensions among our people and help to reestablish a Judaism of all
Jews, we will have achieved a major accomplishment. If our destiny is to be a light unto the
nations, then getting our house in order is a good first step on the road
toward doing our share in saving the world.