One More Kiddush HaShem, One Less Anti-Orthodox

From Kikar HaShabbat:

Kiddush HaShem: that’s what this Chassidic Bachur made with 130,000 Sha”Ch he found at a bus stop

A young “anti-Orthodox” man, as he testified about himself, lost 130,000 shekels at a bus stop and could not believe his eyes: Nehemiah Indursky, a 19.5 year old Belzer Chassid was waiting at the station with an exciting surprise.

The Mitzvah of returning a lost object by a Belzer bachur went viral: last Friday, a non-religious person wrote an exciting post in which he described an Orthodox bachur who performed hashovas aveidah, returning a lost object, with a particularly high amount of money.

The man wrote that he forgot a bag with 130,000 shekels in cash at a bus station in Haifa. He said that after half an hour he returned, completely out of his mind with worry that someone had taken the bag. “I thought that with all that, maybe a miracle will still happen and I will find it.”

xr3p7i6z__w470h289q95“When I got to the station, there was a Charedi bachur sitting there, and he asked me if he could help me. I told him the story and he told me: ‘I came here 25 minutes ago and saw the bag. I opened it and saw a large sum of money. I told myself that I’ll wait here a quarter of an hour, and if the man didn’t come, I’ll put up a note with the number of my cellphone so he could reach me.

“‘Fifteen minutes later, when no one came, I told myself that since I live in Jerusalem and possibly the one who lost the money needs it urgently, I will wait for some time. I said a Psalm that he should come soon, and not 10 minutes later you arrived.’ The bachur asked the one who lost the bag for signs that it was his, and returned the money intact.

“Until the moment I finished counting, I could not believe it was with me or that I could find this at all (I was so ‘anti-Orthodox’… but only until now). I wanted to give him a nice gift, but he absolutely did not want to accept it, saying that it is his Mitzvah” excitedly said the one who lost the money.

In an interview with Kol Hai radio, the bachur, Nehemiah Indursky, a 19 year old Belzer Chassid who studies in the Belz Yeshiva, recounted thoughts went through his head about good things one can do with that amount of money, like giving ma’aser (charity). But then he said to himself that this money does not belong to him, and the owner needed it.

Nehemiah decided to wait another fifteen minutes. “I said, ‘Master of the World, I passed my test, now You need to do Your part and send him.”

If you think this reminds you of a story you heard before, you would be right.

Like the Face of a Dog

The Mishnah at the end of Sotah talks about the Messianic era. Among the many things that it says (e.g. Chutzpah Yisgeh, that brazenness will be common), it records that “the face of the generation will be like the face of the dog.”

dog-06Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, founder of the Mussar movement, explained the Mishnah as follows: When you take a dog out for a walk, the dog goes running ahead, and to the outside observer it might look like the dog is leading, and you are following. But what if you decide to turn right at a corner, and the dog continues on ahead? Within seconds, the dog will be out in front of you once again, running ahead in the new direction you have chosen. The dog isn’t really leading at all.

This, he explained, is what the Mishnah means when it says “the face of the generation” will be like the face of a dog. The leaders will only walk ahead of us the same way a dog does — taking us where we want to go.

R’ Yisrael never lived in a democracy, and probably knew nothing of what was going on in England, France and the United States even during his lifetime (1810-1883). Yet he described democracy accurately. We choose leaders to take us in the direction we want to go, and if we don’t like the direction in which they lead us, we elect new ones who will do it better.

Even if that is a desirable form of government under current circumstances, it’s quite certain that religion isn’t supposed to work that way.

I’m working on a longer article about this, but the Conservative movement has now clarified that the Mishnah, with R’ Yisrael’s commentary, was talking about religious leadership as well. Confronted with a dramatic decline, the movement has hired a PR firm, which has polled hundreds of member families to determine how the movement should “rebrand” itself.

It is truly the leadership that R’ Yisrael told us to expect — much as we might never have believed it.

Pharoah and the Jews: a Case Study in Anti-Semitism

Israel-Apartheid-WeekThe Biblical Book of Exodus begins with the tale of Pharoah and the Jews under Egyptian rule. Most people are at least vaguely familiar with the story, but few notice that it is the first account of organized, institutional anti-Semitism against the Jews.

At the end of Genesis, we learn that the insight and guidance of one prescient Jew saved the entire nation of Egypt from starvation and anarchy. Joseph, the son of Jacob, correctly foresaw that the region was destined to enjoy seven years of plenty, not knowing that seven dark years of famine would follow. He suggested that Pharoah build storehouses and implement a mandatory 20% tax during the years of bounty, rather than allowing the populace to consume and waste the excess.

Though Joseph came before Pharoah as an imprisoned slave, Pharoah was so taken with his foresight and advice that he appointed Joseph to be his second-in-command, and placed him in charge of this crucial project. Joseph was so successful that, as we see from the text itself, the Egyptians were able to not only feed their own, but even to sell the surplus to residents of other nations – such as ten brothers from Cana’an. Once reunited as a family, Joseph brought the entire clan to settle as a separate but loyal community of citizens under Egyptian rule.

Years later, a new Pharoah was crowned, one who claimed to be unaware of the Jews’ pivotal contribution to Egypt’s survival and enhanced international reputation. He insisted that something must be done about the Jews, for they had too much power. Otherwise, he said, the Jews could show disloyalty, joining those who come to wage war and (commentators differ on this point) either plundering Egypt’s wealth and carrying it off to Cana’an, or even expelling the Egyptians and taking the real estate for themselves.

To be certain, all of Pharaoh’s accusations were baseless lies – until his own blind hatred made them reality. He not only enslaved the Jews, he made their lives impossible, and tried to kill them out by drowning all newborn Jewish boys. The oppressed Jews cried out to G-d, Who punished the Egyptians with a series of plagues that killed their crops, their livestock, and even their firstborn sons. Oral tradition teaches that the Egyptians willingly handed over their wealth to the Jews so that they would leave and stop the plagues.

In the end, another bout of irrational hatred consumed Pharaoh. He ran to wage war against the Jews and drag them back – and he and his entire army were drowned.

Perhaps you find yourself among the many millions of people who believe this story to be nothing more than an interesting fable. If so, it is all the more necessary to ponder why it might be that although the Egyptian nation of that era has disappeared in the sands of history, the lies that Pharoah believed and told about the Jews are precisely those that continue to be circulated to this day:

  • The Jews have too much power and control.
  • They care only about themselves.
  • They think they are superior to us.
  • They are disloyal.
  • They will make war against the innocent.
  • They want to take our money and property.
  • They want to kill or exile us.
  • The Jews will do to us the very things we now plan to do to them.
  • And finally, all of this is the Jews’ own fault.

To which we might add one more: the Jews talk too much about their victimization at the hands of others. After all, they’ve been reading this story for over 3,300 years.

A Labor of Love

learningIn this week’s reading, Yaakov parcels out blessings to his sons, based upon his prophetic understanding of their futures. He describes Yissachar as a strong-boned donkey, who saw that “rest” was good, yet “bent his shoulder to bear, and became a servant to tasks” [49:14-15].

The commentators universally understand that the tribe of Yissachar devoted itself to Torah study to an extraordinary extent: Rashi derives from a verse in Chronicles that the tribe produced 200 heads of the Sanhedrin, the supreme Rabbinic Court located in the Temple in Jerusalem.

That is but the first of three common threads in the understanding of these two verses. The second is that Torah study is seen as a burden, a monumental task. Rashi says that Yissachar received a fruitful portion of the Land of Israel, yet burdened himself with Torah. The Ohr HaChaim writes that the verse refers to the ultimate rest in the World to Come, leading Yissachar to toil in this one. And the Kli Yakar says that Yissachar was like a donkey tied to its load — his burden was always there.

And third, this task of Yissachar’s performed a critical service for the Jewish Nation. The verse referenced by Rashi (I Chronicles 12:33) is describing King David gathering military troops, yet says: “And of the children of Yissachar, men who understood the times, who knew what Israel should do; their heads were 200, and all their brothers acted on their words.” Torah guides Israel in all its affairs, so Israel’s best strategists were those who studied constantly.

Torah study is not meant to be a relaxing activity — enjoyable, yes, but not easy. Mort Zuckerman, the real estate magnate and editor-in-chief of US News and World Report, visited the famous yeshiva in Lakewood, NJ and called it “the single most intellectually active, energetic, fascinating environment I had ever witnessed.” He even said that Harvard Law School (which he attended) paled by comparison! When we study Torah, this must be our goal — to immerse ourselves, for our minds to be completely engaged with the material.

The phrase “became a servant to tasks” actually refers to “mas,” a tax. The Ohr HaChaim reads “servant to tasks” as applying to the rest of the Jewish nation, rather than Yissachar — meaning that everyone had to “tax themselves” to support those studying Torah, as the tribe of Zevulun did for Yissachar. “And so in every generation,” the Ohr HaChaim concludes, the rest of us claim a portion in the continuation of Torah scholarship, ensuring the Jewish future, by supporting schools and scholars.

Leaving Our Land

luggageIn this week’s reading, Joseph reveals himself to his brothers as second-in-command over all of Egypt. Due to the famine, he encourages the entire family to join him, but does so with unusual language: “Hurry and go up to my father, and say to him, ‘so says your son, Yosef: G-d has placed me as Master over all of Egypt; come down to me, do not stand still'” [45:9]. Go up to my father, he says, and tell him to come down to me.

When they do, in fact, come to join him, the Torah tells us that “Yosef settled his father and brothers, and gave them a holding in the Land of Egypt, in the best of the land, in the land of Ramses, in accordance with Pharaoh’s command” [47:11].

Consider, then, what the brothers say to Pharaoh: “we have come to dwell in the land, because there is no grazing for the flocks that belong to your servants, for the hunger is heavy in the Land of Canaan; and now let your servants please settle in the Land of Goshen” [47:4]. The word for “to dwell,” lagur, comes from the root Ger, the word for stranger. The brothers are telling Pharaoh: we come simply to be strangers, to dwell here temporarily. We know this is not our home.

Remember that at the time, the Jewish Family comprised all of 70 people (see 46:27). All of them moved to Egypt, none were left behind in Canaan. They built new houses on the most valuable real estate. They built a House of Study (see Rashi on 46:28). One of them was the Viceroy of the entire country, which was, at the time, arguably the most powerful in the world. They had a new home, away from the famine — why would they plan to move back? Why would they want to move anywhere at all — and why would the tell Pharoah? It would be like Senator Marco Rubio announcing future plans to move his family back to Cuba: it seems to make no sense, and to be bad politics as well.

From the brothers, we learn two things. First of all, the connection of the People of Israel to the Land of Israel is unlike any other. G-d made a promise to Abraham: this, Canaan, will be your permanent Land. I am giving it to you. No matter where else in the world you may find yourself, you only have one homeland.

And second, the brothers knew that Pharaoh wanted to hear this. It wasn’t bad politics, it was good politics. “We’re Jews. We know we’re different. And despite current circumstances, we know we’re not going to settle here permanently, and simply be part of you, the Egyptian nation.”

Even as belief in the G-d of the Jews has spread around the world, other nations still regard the Jews as a different people. Whether given welcome or oppressed, we are different. And to that extent, we are not truly home in any other land. The brothers tell us: we must always look forward to going home.

The Model is Working

0000dafc_bigWhatever it was that I wanted to say about Stephen Cohen’s “Lessons Learned From Orthodoxy’s Dramatic Growth” has been entirely overshadowed by Rabbi Gordimer’s marvelous essay. Although I might have tried to be more generous (halevai more non-Orthodox Jews would “pay the PRICE” and stay that much more involved for another generation), Reb Avrohom is unquestionably correct both that “the qualitative returns of such [non-Orthodox but heavily-involved] cases are far, far lower,” and in his explanation of why this is so.

Some of the comments to Rabbi Gordimer’s piece indicate, though, that my own thoughts on Prof. Cohen’s article are still relevant.

I’m not quite sure how Rabbi Gordimer could possibly be called “triumphalist” — he merely had the temerity to explain why the Orthodox are growing at an astounding rate. One can hardly fault him for terming the data “jaw-dropping,” as there are few more accurate adjectives with which to portray it. A veteran analyst of Chasidic demographics, himself the father of over a dozen children, refused to believe the results of Marvin Schick’s 2014 Census of Jewish Day Schools until I prevailed upon Dr. Schick to send him a copy. And who could blame him — what school system doubles in size in a 15-year period, as Chasidic schools did between 1998 and 2013? The fact that Jews were abandoning Torah observance earlier in the twentieth century only further accentuates the phenomenal success of the educational model now in use across the Orthodox community.

When we talked about exponential growth twenty-five years ago, no one said we were being “triumphalist” but rather “unrealistic.” I recall a Reform Rabbi confidently rebutting me with numbers from the first National Jewish Population Survey (1990), which showed that the Orthodox were consistently less than 7 percent of the Jewish population. The boom that was already quite evident within our community — the blossoming of Jewish communities in Brooklyn, Lakewood, Monsey and elsewhere — coincided with the passing of an elderly cohort of nominally-Orthodox Jews, who self-identified as Orthodox based upon synagogue preference rather than solid commitment. Thus the Council of Jewish Federations spent millions of dollars in order to entirely miss the coming transformation of American Jewish life.

Today, the dividing line in Jewish demographics between Orthodox and Non-Orthodox Jews is so obvious that no statistician can ignore it — the new question is whether others will study our model to see what is working. In that regard, Prof. Cohen deserves kudos for daring to say (from his office at Hebrew Union College, no less) that the Orthodox are doing something right in this specific, critical area, and for suggesting that others emulate our model. Last year, after accepting an article on this very topic from Rabbi Pesach Lerner and myself, The Forward editors read it — at which point they hemmed, hawed, and eventually declined to share it with their readers.

At the same time, we are prone to continue to make the same error that plagued the demographers of previous years — conflating any form of “Orthodox Jews” into a monolithic construct. Rabbi Micha Berger commented that “17% of our children elect to leave the American Orthodox community” but added that “it’s apparently constant across all segments of Orthodoxy.” This number comes from the Pew Survey, and as I said in a previous essay, this figure is “outlandishly high where the Charedi community is concerned.”

We should refer back to Rabbi Meir Goldberg’s comment on that previous essay: when he asked two professionals in Lakewood how many of the over 10,000 teens are actually “OTD,” they said no more than 300, and “the vast majority eventually return.” That means that in Lakewood the “attrition rate” is under 3% and probably under 1%. Similarly, Footsteps, the magnificently well-publicized and well-funded organization helping people abandon Judaism — primarily though not exclusively from Chasidic homes — proudly states that it has served over 1100 people in 12 years. Per the Avi Chai study, Chasidic schools alone produced 55,000 graduates during that period, meaning less than 2 percent are leaving. Footsteps can accurately state the demand for its services is “growing exponentially” because the Chasidic community itself is doing exactly that.

And that is the larger point to take away from both the Pew Survey data and Prof. Cohen’s analysis: that growing numbers of individual problems are symptoms of the success of the overall model, rather than its failure or impending collapse. It only makes sense that the number of OTD teens should be growing, even if that reflects a constant or smaller percentage of a rapidly-increasing teen population. Certainly, the community has vastly more resources to help these children, as well as those with learning disabilities, medical conditions and other issues — because a larger community means a larger number of children evidencing any of these problems.

I would argue that even Open Orthodoxy is evidence of the growth and stature of Torah observance in the Jewish world today. A generation ago, adherents of “Open Orthodoxy” would not have hesitated to call themselves right-wing Conservative (i.e. the Union for Traditional Conservative Judaism, which eventually dropped the “C” from its name), while encouraging precisely the same changes in Jewish philosophy and practice. Today, everyone knows that the vibrancy and commitment found within Orthodoxy are not replicated elsewhere — and thus it is important to OO to call itself Orthodox despite its abandonment of basic tenets of Orthodoxy.

I know that some will read this essay, as well, and conclude that I am being “triumphalist.” But again, that’s simply a pejorative reserved for the Orthodox, to be used (as David F commented) whenever Orthodox Jews mention the successes of Orthodox Judaism, and only now that the rectitude of what was said decades ago is obvious to all. No one said Simeon Maslin, then President of what was then called the UAHC, was being “triumphalist” when he said that Reform, and not Orthodox, are the “authentic” Jews. There is no triumphalism in rejecting a pattern of criticizing charedi Judaism and its leaders for their own successes. The Gedolim knew a great deal more than their critics of decades past; that, too, is a conclusion drawn directly from the available data.

You Can Save a Life

wailing-wall-776369_1920What if I told you there was something you could do, right now, that could save a life in Israel? Would you do it?

In this week’s reading, Yaakov returns to the Land of Israel, only to meet his brother Esav — who years earlier tried to kill him. Yaakov prepared for this event, Rashi tells us, in three ways: with gifts, prayer, and preparation for war. All three were necessary.

Our Sages tell us that “maaseh avos siman l’banim” — the actions of the Fathers are signs for the children. Much of what we learn from the detailed accounts in Bereishis, the Book of Genesis, are principles derived from the accounts of the lives of our forebears, the fathers and mothers of the Jewish people.

Hatred of the children of Yaakov by the children of Esav and Yishmael is hardly new — it has been with us for thousands of years. The modern state of Israel is not facing a new challenge, but an ancient one; the children of Ishmael have aimed to destroy it since before it was created, simply because it is a state run by Jews. Today Ishmael is waging war with guns, knives, and “diplomacy” to gain world support against the Jews (as if that were difficult to garner).

Yes, we have to prepare for war, and fight back with diplomacy as well. But the Jews have a secret weapon: the Creator of Heaven and Earth is ready to help us.

Recently someone called my attention to a webpage (anti-Semitic, of course) purporting to translate content of the Talmud, to the effect that Judaism teaches that a non-Jew is not a human being, but rather a beast. It was a complete inversion of reality; the Talmud states that “the Righteous of all Nations have a share in the World to Come” [Sanhedrin 105a]. An animal cannot choose to be righteous; the Talmud is telling us that every human being has free will, and will be rewarded for making the right choices — and that this applies to every person, whether Jewish or not.

Of course, the “translation” was fictional. The part about non-Jews being beasts was whole-cloth fabrication; the rest, a distortion built upon a mistranslation. The Talmud does not use “Ish,” the word for man. Rather, it says that non-Jews are not called “Adam;” only Jews are called “Adam” [Bava Metziah 114b].

This is not a new anti-Semitic claim; it was used at the Dreyfus trial, when an innocent and loyal French Jewish soldier was accused of treason (in order to cover up the guilt of a pure-blood Frenchman). Several rabbis came from other European countries to support the defense, and they were confronted with this misrepresentation of Jewish teachings.

They explained as follows: Adam is not all of humanity. We are all the Children of Adam, and it is the Jews who brought the message that we are all brothers, all created in the Image of G-d, to the world. But Adam is one person, one body. We, the Jews, are all called “Israel,” the name given by G-d to Jacob — immediately prior to his family reunion with Esau. That is the meaning of being called “Adam” in the singular.

If a French person is hurt, a person of French descent living in another country is unlikely to be affected more than any other human being. But because a Jew was falsely accused, the rabbis explained, we were willing to come from other countries just to support him. That is what is different — all Jews are one. We are one unified body to an extent not shared by other nations, even in our dispersal. This is why the actions of Yaakov, one man, are taken as signs to guide all of his children, thousands of years later.

Like our forefather Yaakov, we have to fight in three ways: with diplomacy and offers of gifts, with preparation for war to defend ourselves, and with prayer and Torah study. As important as the first two of these are, only the third leverages our secret weapon, the key to our national defense.

Current events are a call to prayer and study. There is indeed something we can do right now, that can save lives.

Open Orthodoxy: An Amicable Divorce?

Are the “Open Orthodox” finally going to leave Orthodoxy behind? Several months ago, Rabbi Avi Weiss and a few of his students publicly announced their departure from the RCA, given that organization’s refusal to certify Chovevei Torah alumni as rabbis. Recent articles and statements, though, suggest that Open Orthodoxy might explicitly leave Orthodoxy itself — to the great benefit of truth and transparency.

It is worth analyzing the article of Rabbi Chaim Landau in the Baltimore Jewish Times, both in order to correct multiple false premises and endorse his conclusion.

He describes Agudath Israel as having “combined forces” with the RCA in order to “denounce, reject, and neutralize the existence of a growing Modern Orthodox trend that accepts women clergy in synagogue leadership roles.” The problem, of course, is that the Moetzes failed to so much as mention the issue of women in its declaration about Open Orthodoxy. On the contrary, as Rav Aharon Feldman put it so eloquently, “If someone is walking down the street without clothing, you don’t ask him, ‘Why aren’t you wearing tzitzis?'” The Agudah spoke of Open Orthodoxy’s departures from basic Jewish tenets, while Rabbi Landau is confusing symptoms with the underlying illness.

He similarly asserts that “the attack is aimed primarily at Rabbi Avi Weiss,” yet this, too, misses the point entirely. It seems to be a common tendency among advocates of Open Orthodoxy to claim that criticisms of their ideology are nothing more than scurrilous personal attacks. This canard does not grow fresher with age. The fact that one individual founded all of its institutions does not mean that Open Orthodoxy simply refers, as Rabbi Landau claims, “to Rabbi Weiss’ philosophy of inclusivity.” It is a movement, and its ideology — far more varied and complex than simply “inclusivity” — is shared by many other individuals.

Yet, as I said, after these multiple faulty assumptions Rabbi Landau arrives at precisely the correct conclusion: that the Open Orthodox should “completely dissociate with the right-wing Agudath Yisrael and Yeshiva University groups whose philosophy… is out of sync with the Modern Orthodoxy of Rabbis Weiss, Riskin and others… Allow a clear line to exist between themselves and the more right-wing, red-lines-in-the-ground Orthodox groups.”

Yes, yes, and yes again. Open Orthodoxy should indeed completely dissociate with the Agudah, the RCA, the Roshei Yeshiva of Yeshiva University, the Conference of European Rabbis, the Chief Rabbis of the UK and Israel, and all the other institutions and organs representing the values of Torah observance. Let it state for the record that like the Union for Traditional Judaism (formerly the Union for Traditional Conservative Judaism), “Open Orthodoxy” represents the traditional wing of liberal Judaism, rather than the liberal wing of traditional Torah Judaism.

This is not just a political dispute, something with (at best) transient significance. To the contrary, this is about the nature of Judaism itself, and the Jewish identity of future generations.

Less than 200 years ago, the Torah-observant community was labeled “Orthodox” for failing to endorse the vision of the then-new Reform movement. Reform leaders both derided Orthodoxy as rejectionist and predicted its quick demise.

Orthodoxy is flourishing today, not despite its rejection of those “modern innovations,” but because of it. Orthodoxy is indeed, as Rabbi Landau so accurately said, about “red-lines-in-the-ground.” It is the Reform movement, divorced from Torah and unable to clearly articulate what beliefs and practices it mandates, that is collapsing. One who does not take a position stands for nothing at all.

In truth, the Torah-observant community never “rejected” Reform; the opposite is true. The Written and Oral Torah make affirmative statements of Jewish belief and prescribe a code of Jewish conduct; Reform rejected all of these.

The same is true today. The RCA “rejects” the desire of some to change the rules of Orthodoxy. The Agudah “rejects” a new movement that calls itself a type of Orthodoxy, yet rejects basic tenets of Judaism.

One of the leading lights of Open Orthodoxy, Rabbi Shmuly Yanklowitz, has effectively announced his departure, responding to the Agudah statement on Facebook by saying that “they put Open Orthodox rabbis together with other Jewish movements. It is an honor to be united with the full Jewish people. Some of my best friends & colleagues are Reform, Conservative, Renewal, Reconstructionist etc.” Yes — for Yanklowitz and his YCT chevrah, their colleagues are those on the non-Torah side of the bright red line.

Those who would call the Agudah or RCA divisive have it backwards for two reasons: this is not at all about Jewish unity, and it is “Open Orthodoxy” that has divided itself from Torah. Every Jew is a Jew, but it hardly follows that every philosophy espoused by Jews qualifies as Judaism. This is about the red lines Rabbi Landau mentioned — and about how Jewish survival depends upon staying within them. If the adherents of “Open Orthodoxy” have charted their course away from the moorings of Torah, that is both tragic and entirely within their rights. But integrity demands they cast off the “Orthodox” moniker as they sail to oblivion.

The Appropriate Blessing

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This week we read that Yitzchak (Isaac) wanted to bless his older son Esav, but Yaakov came instead, as advised by his mother Rivka. As a result, both sons were blessed — and though Yitzchak was deceived, he was Divinely Inspired to give each child the right blessing.

In his blessing to Yaakov, Yitzchak says “And G-d should give you from the dew of Heaven and from the fat of the land, much grain and wine” [27:28]. But he blesses Esav by saying “from the fat places of the earth shall be your dwelling” [27:39]. Why does Yitzchok say that G-d should give Yaakov “from” the fat of the land, yet ask that Esav be blessed to always live in fertile places?

Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki (Rashi) explains the difference — and that the blessing of Esav is indeed greater, in a way. The word “Elokim” [G-d] refers to the Divine attribute of justice. With regards to Esav, Yitzchak asks that G-d give him blessing whether or not he is truly deserving, but asks that Yaakov receive when it is correct and just.

Yaakov is required to demonstrate a higher level of trust in G-d. Often, Divine Justice is hidden from us. We don’t see the reasons why each person is receiving what is appropriate. But Yitzchak expects Yaakov to accept the Divine Will, and not complain that G-d is being “unjust,” as it were, even if it appears unfair to human eyes. He does not have the same expectation of Esav, and thus asks that Esav have abundance at all times.

Rashi points out that King Solomon learned from this, and pronounced similar blessings when the Temple in Jerusalem was completed. With regards to Israel, he said “give to every man according to his ways, whose heart You know” [I Kings 8:39] — give according to that person’s heart, according to what You know to be true deep inside. But then Shlomo HaMelech says “concerning a stranger that… comes out of a far country for Your Name’s sake” that G-d should “do according to everything that the stranger calls upon You [to do]” [8:41, 43].

Shlomo explains why he asks that G-d fulfill everything the non-Jew asks for during his prayers: “that all the people of the earth may know Your name, to fear You, like your people Israel [do], and to know that Your name is called upon this house which I have built” [8:43].

The People of Israel interacted with G-d directly, so Shlomo HaMelech takes for granted that they will fear G-d, even if G-d gives according to that person’s heart rather than his or her words. But Shlomo knows that if an idolator makes an offering to G-d and his request goes unanswered, and then he makes an offering to an idol and what he asks for actually happens, then the idolator might reach the conclusion that the idol actually has power, power that G-d does not!

The Jewish nation is expected to trust G-d and follow Him at a “higher standard.” Both Yitzchak and Shlomo ask G-d to favor the requests of all the people of the earth — even more than He favors the prayers of His own nation (!) — in order that every person on earth comes to recognize his or her Creator.

The Symptoms are Not the Problem

Doctor_discusses_x-ray_with_patientIn the wake of the declaration by the leading rabbis of Agudath Israel of America (a body called the Moetzes Gedolei HaTorah, the Council of Torah Sages) regarding Open Orthodoxy and its institutions, many seem to have confused issues of Jewish practice with Jewish doctrine.

The JTA’s article about the Council’s statement concluded by noting that “it comes days after the RCA formally adopted a policy prohibiting the ordination or hiring of women rabbis,” thus connecting and implying a close relationship between the two. The Jerusalem Post discussed the Agudah and RCA statements within one article, further blurring key distinctions. Many comments in social media, as well, focused upon women as rabbis or other particular observances of Open Orthodoxy as issues of concern to the Agudah Council.

The Forward, always anxious to cast Charedim as angry or violent, declared that “Agudah Rabbis Declare War.” Asher Lopatin, Dean of Open Orthodoxy’s Yeshivat Chovevei Torah (YCT), wrote a response to the statement in which he argued that Open Orthodoxy stands for “creating an inclusive, welcoming, open community, where passionate Jews can, and should, disagree, but should never seek to impose their own ideas on others…” and will “continue to build an Orthodox community which brings us together rather than divides us.”

The Moetzes, however, made no mention of women rabbis. It did not discuss observance of particular elements of Halacha, Jewish law. And, of course, it said nothing about political control or impinging upon the right of any Jew, passionate or otherwise, to disagree. A medical analogy is apt: if someone has headaches due to a life-threatening illness, Tylenol will not cure him; attention must focus upon the underlying disease.

Lopatin is being less than forthright. For better or worse, “Orthodox” is a moniker with meaning. In the common vernacular, Orthodox Judaism is understood to be that “form” of Judaism committed to the credo maintained by Jews for thousands of years. Just as the Reform movement sought to unilaterally change the definition of Judaism 200 years ago, Open Orthodoxy seeks to impose a new definition upon the word “Orthodox” (and has even attempted to stifle dissent as it does so).

The statement of the Moetzes addresses one issue, and one issue only: that Open Orthodoxy and its institutions “reject the basic tenets of our faith,” and therefore “is not a form of Torah Judaism.” It is not about specific Open Orthodox practices, which Halachic opinions it follows, or who they do or don’t count for a minyan. The issue, said the Council, is what Open Orthodoxy believes.

As the Agudath Israel spokesman, Rabbi Avi Shafran, told the media, this is something the rabbis were “mulling around for months.” Nothing that they said is either surprising or new to those who have followed discussions of this new movement.

Over two years ago, Zev Farber, recipient of the highest form of ordination from Chovevei Torah and the former coordinator of the Vaad HaGiyur, the Conversion Council of Open Orthodoxy’s “International Rabbinic Forum,” wrote that “the Deuteronomic prophet,” whom he pointedly did not identify as Moses, “was still a human being” of “limited scope… [who] could not reasonably be expected to work towards correcting faults he did not see.”

Needless to say, this is to traditional Jewish belief as a ham sandwich is to kashrus.

Yet rather than condemning this statement outright — much less questioning the validity of conversions conducted under Farber’s supervision — others within the Open Orthodox community called this merely “a non-conventional answer” at “the outer boundaries of Orthodox thinking on this subject.”

The above is but one example. What the Moetzes concluded, after examining statements and conduct across the range of Open Orthodox institutions, was that it could not remain silent, hoping that this sort of excess would disappear and more sober opinions, ones consonant with traditional Judaism, would dominate. On the contrary, representatives of Open Orthodoxy continue to state, and educate others to adopt, beliefs not merely at “the outer boundaries of Orthodox thinking” but several light years beyond.

There are those, particularly in the Reform movement, who advocate for a “big tent,” in which most anything can claim to represent “Judaism.” Traditional Judaism has always taken a different approach, requiring observance of 613 Commandments and a similarly comprehensive list of beliefs, thirteen of which are so fundamental that Maimonides identified them as mandatory for anyone wishing to self-identify as a “Torah-observant” Jew — that which we have called “Orthodox” in recent centuries.

There are several practical ramifications of the Council’s statement, all of which are straightforward. Graduates of Open Orthodox institutions (regardless of gender) should not be considered Orthodox rabbis, at least as the term Orthodox is commonly understood. Orthodox synagogues should not appoint Open Orthodox rabbis to lead them. Communal organizations should not present lectures by “Orthodox” rabbis who are, in actuality, “Open Orthodox.” And, perhaps most critically, the media should no longer claim that “Orthodox” rabbis are entertaining a new idea or change in Jewish practice that only Open Orthodoxy could possibly condone.

In the end, it’s not about women, exclusion, or politics; it’s about truth in advertising. It’s about ensuring that when people are told that a particular opinion is “Orthodox” or grounded in traditional thought, it actually is. And in that regard, the Agudah’s Council has done the Jewish public a great service.

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