Orthodox and Non-Orthodox part 8

We have seen how the views of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch brought many to accept "culture" as something apart from Jewish Tradition, and the necessity of using Torah for the sanctification of "culture". There were many others who had similar ideas, although usually seeing secular, non-Jewish culture as something that needed to be dealt with, and where applicable, accepted, rather than a positive value in and of itself. Hirsch's colleague, Rabbi Azriel Hildesheimer, favored a pragmatic approach to "culture", rather than ideological. He favored the method of the Wissenschaft school, without, however, accepting their deviations from religious norms and practices. His famous seminary in Germany was, in many ways, the forerunner of Modern Orthodox institutions such as Yeshiva University, the "flagship" of Modern Orthodoxy. Its motto "Torah U'Mada" (either "Torah and Science" or "Torah and Knowledge") basically says it all. Secular studies are carried out on the highest level, with religious studies kept strictly Orthodox, albeit modified by the modern world. For example, in traditional Orthodoxy, there is an emphasis on modest dress for women, with standards that have mostly remained constant for centuries. In Modern Orthodox circles, one will often hear the admonition "keep on the conservative side of modern fashion". When Yeshiva University took as its rabbinical mentor the renowned Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, himself the heir to a proud Lithuanian tradition in learning, a synthesis was born between Modern orthodoxy and systematic analysis of old and new ideas, sometimes with reconciliation, sometimes put into contrast.
Several different forms of Modern Orthodoxy exist today.However, sociologists generally place them into two camps; the "Ideologically Modern", who are very careful about observances, but nevertheless see the need to be involved with the modern world, and "Behaviorally Modern" who will keep the essential framework of Jewish law and tradition, but will compromise on details. Basically, in many Modern Orthodox communities, a person who openly violates some standards of Jewish law will still be welcome in the community, UNLESS he makes an IDEOLOGY out of his lapses. These two groups have, in recent years, grown further apart. As Western culture has gone further away from a basic Biblical ethic, to one of relativism, atheism and consumerism, the Ideological Moderns have more and more separated from unnecessary participation in many aspects of society. There have even developed not only more connections with the Haredi world (so called "Ultra Orthodox" ), but acceptance of much of its leadership. The Behaviorally Moderns tend to accept many current cultural ideas and norms, and try to fit them somehow into a Jewish framework.
Besides these two divisions (which are more individual and cultural rather than institutionalized or formal. No one will say "I'm Ideologically Modern, or I'm Behaviorally Modern), there exists a wide spectrum on halachic norms, as well as theological questions. At the left-leaning edge of the spectrum, one can even find those who question the origins of the Torah, or who are willing to make peace with clearly non-Torah ways of life and trends, such as homosexuality. Many question if this is Orthodoxy at all.
Ironically, in most Western countries, Modern Orthodoxy has become the dominant form, while those to the right (the Traditional Yeshivot and Hassidim) are seen almost as "outside the camp", often wielding little influence in major decisions on issues affecting the entire community.
As I noted in my last post, Rabbi Hirsch's teachings gave birth to two distinct, even opposing, ideologies. The second is often called Neo-Orthodoxy. That will be my next post.

Orthodox and Non-Orthodox Judaism Part 7

We have already seen that in nineteenth-century Germany, two powerful non-Orthodox Jewish movements had arisen; Reform, and the Wissenschaft school. To be sure, there was a traditionally Orthodox community as well, that carefully maintained the traditions and customs of the cradle of Ashkenazic Jewry. However, this community was fast losing adherents to the assimilationist tendencies of the other movements, which seemed all too attractive to many people . The level of culture was so high in the fields of science, art, music, literature, philosophy and medicine, it could safely be assumed that the future of Europe, nay, the world, lay with Germany . There was yet another factor. (This will be difficult for Americans to fathom). In most European countries, then as now, religious functionaries and institutions were government funded. Now that the non-Orthodox were the majority, funds provided by the government passed through the hands of the organized Jewish community before any was given to the Orthodox communities.(About twenty years ago, I applied for, and was likely to get, the appointment to the rabbinate of Cannes, France. However, when I learned that the government provided Jews with a monthly stipend for religious needs on a national level, and the central governing body of the Jewish community passed funds to the local community's President, and he would decide how much money the rabbi was worth that month, I quickly rescinded my candidacy).
At this time, there arose a unique man with a unique and controversial approach. Varying interpretations of his words actually led to the formation of TWO approaches, at odds with each other to this day.
His name was Samson Raphael Hirsch (1808-1888). Although from Moravia, he became head of the Orthodox community of Frankfurt am Main. Realizing that Orthodoxy was hopelessly on the defensive in Germany, he took the highly unusual and controversial step of going to the courts to have Orthodoxy declared a separate religion under German law. This provided a modicum of safety for the community, as it would not be beholding to the non-Orthodox for financial support, or for the continued existence of its institutions. But what about the attractions of Modern German life? Here, he came up with a daring theory.
The Talmud teaches "it is good to have Torah with Derech Eretz ("the Way of the Land", in other words, to have a means of earning a living, besides being engaged in study). But Hirsch saw another meaning. He interpreted "Derech Eretz" as meaning "Culture". At Sinai, argued Hirsch, the Israelites had a version of Ancient Near Eastern culture. With the giving of the Torah, that culture became sanctified through our observances and actions. But that culture is in no way "special". One could take ANY culture, and through the study of Torah and the performance of mitzvot (commandments), we could, and should, sanctify that culture. Yes, the Orthodox German Jew could be both fully Orthodox and fully German. He wrote in a perfect High German, which made a profound impression on his readers. He gave Orthodox Judaism an intellectual base. He interpreted the stories of the Torah and the mitzvot we fulfill, as being lessons on how to live dignified, productive, rational and worthy lives. He urged complete respect for our non-Jewish neighbors, scrupulously obeying the laws of the State. Jews are taught by the Torah, in Hirsch's understanding, to be polite, well-dressed, honest members of society in every way. Higher education is an essential ingredient in this. (I was once criticized by a strict Hirschian, who informed me that I had no business being a rabbi when I had not studied Goethe). Although some other classical rabbis had permitted, or even encouraged, secular studies, for Rabbi Hirsch it was actually a religious obligation; not only in practical matters, but in the realm of ideas and creativity as well.
Controversy arose. Reform resented the division of Judaism not only into denominations, but into separate religions! Many segments of the Orthodox community felt that his ideas were a betrayal of thousands of years of Jewish life and civilization. Some skeptical but sympathetic rabbis saw his ideas as not being reflective of his true beliefs, but an emergency measure (hora'at sha'ah) designed to win back the straying masses. But Rabbi Hirsch's closest students were adamant that he meant every word.
As I mentioned above, his ideas became two different approaches to Judaism; one very liberal, one very conservative. Both exist as unique, vibrant forms of Orthodoxy. Both are different from everything that came before. How did this happen? That will be the topic of my next post.

Orthodox and Non-Orthodox Judaism Part 6

It is a fact that there are societal fads in terms of the place of religion in various cultures. In the 1920s and '30s, religion in the U.S., and in most Western countries, was seen as essentially irrelevant by most people. In the 1940s, '50s and '60s, there was general respect and recognition of "moderate" religious views. This can be seen in movies and television; religious faith was a major part of the characters' lives, for the most part. The '70s, '80s and early '90s saw a huge upswing (especially in the U.S.) of fundamentalist religious beliefs and even cults of various kinds. From the '90s until the present, secularism and even atheism are everywhere, and religions have been put on the defensive in all Western societies.
In the 1930s, the question arose if it was possible to reconcile a strong Jewish identity with...atheism. As weird as this question sounds, the "cause' was taken up by a man named Mordecai Kaplan (1881-1983).
Kaplan began his life as an Orthodox Jew and rabbi. He was even a founder of the Young Israel movement; a network of Orthodox synagogues that exists to this day. He eventually came to JTS, the Conservative Seminary, where he became Professor of Homiletics (making sermons), a position he held for more than fifty years. He developed a very controversial theory. He saw G-d not as a being, but rather the sum of all existence; that which gives Man purpose and vision. (I am reminded of Yoda, in Star Wars, who tells Luke that the Force is the combined energy of all living things). Judaism is not a religion, but a civilization, built around the idea of shared experiences, commitment, and aspirations. He published two books in the 1930s based on this idea: "Judaism as a Civilization" and "Judaism Without the Supernatural". He was not, strictly speaking, an atheist. But he did not believe in the G-d of the Torah either. He preached for being a "Reconstructionist". That is, build a new Judaism where tradition has "a vote not a veto", but maintains the framework of traditional Jewish life as a backdrop to what later generations will build. Art, literature, all kinds of creativity were the cornerstones of Judaism for Kaplan. He was brutally critical of both Orthodoxy and Reform. The former for being too rigid, and holding beliefs which he thought made no sense in the modern world; the latter for betraying the foundations of our civilization. In JTS, he had many devoted and loving followers, but was bitterly opposed by much of the faculty for his abandonment of the Jewish concept of G-d. He kept strictly kosher. A colleague asked him why, since there was, in his opinion, no conscious G-d? He responded emotionally: "Because I'm a Jew. A Jew keeps kosher!".
He was denounced strongly by Orthodoxy as "the worst heretic of our times", with one rabbinic group actually issuing a formal ban of excommunication. A movement grew out of his ideas, which is known as the Reconstructionist Movement. It eventually formed its own seminary, and has synagogues in many locations around the world. Its membership is primarily an intellectual elite, and the movement is tiny compared with the others. It is characterized by acceptance of all expressions of Judaism, from Orthodox to atheist (it has been quipped by critics that they pray "to whom it may concern"). Its seminary has been a haven for advocates of many forms of Jewish religious and cultural variations. Its influence goes far beyond its own ranks, as numerous Jewish "cultural" foundations and institutions have been inspired by Reconstructionism. Many Conservative colleagues expressed to me their opinion that he was the most significant Jewish figure of the Twentieth Century, as he paved the way for purely cultural expressions of Judaism. Is it Judaism? I'll let you decide.

Orthodox and Non-Orthodox Judaism part 5

Throughout most of the twentieth century, most Conservative rabbis were, for all intents and purposes, Orthodox. The decisions issued by the Committee on Law and Standards were mostly in accordance with Halachah (Jewish Law), and those that weren't were, at first, issued as emergency measures only. Little by little, emergency measures became standard policy, although a significant percentage of Conservative rabbis chose to ignore these policies in favor of traditional observances. The more right-wing Orthodox leaders were, nevertheless, scandalized by a movement that could embrace policies that were contrary even to the Torah, such as regulations regarding Kohanim (the Biblical priesthood). Even if many rejected these rulings, they were, nevertheless, part of a movement that endorsed these changes. Leading rabbinic figures ruled that a Conservative rabbi, even if personally observant, was, by definition, in violation of Torah.(One can only speculate whether the rabbis who relentlessly pursued even halachically observant rabbis in Conservative pulpits, didn't thereby drive the Conservative movement to the Left. I am convinced that this is the case.).  In the more "modern" Orthodox circles, there was condemnation of changes embraced by Conservatism, but contact with individual rabbis who maintained traditional standards were maintained. The main Orthodox rabbinical organization had, at that time, members who were affiliated with the Conservative movement. In fact, the main Modern Orthodox rabbinical organization was placing Orthodox rabbis in Conservative pulpits. National Orthodox Kashrut agencies had Conservative rabbis who were known to be "reliable" working as local supervisors in outlying areas where Orthodox rabbis could not be found. Even the Israeli Chief Rabbinate accepted Conservative conversions on a case-by-case basis. But all this was about to change.
In the late 1960s and early 1970s, the women's movement became a major factor in American society. Some men felt threatened by these challenges to long-held societal customs. Others saw as quite reasonable the demands for equal pay for equal work, and a host of other feminist demands. However, some issues of the Women's Movement in the early days were too much for men to handle, and even most women were put in difficult positions. Some radical feminists challenged the institution of marriage altogether as a form of slavery. Women who bore children were subject to taunts of "breeder". Although these trends subsided in the movement before long, nevertheless, there was much anxiety and unease between the sexes.
In the right-wing Orthodox world, the women's movement was met with suspicion. The demands of women were seen as a challenge to authority, rabbinic and otherwise. In Modern Orthodox circles, some rabbis embraced the changes as necessary, as long as they were kept within the bounds of halachah. Some organized separate women's only minyanim (prayer groups) where women's desire for participation in services could be met without doing violence to traditional roles. A few allowed women to wear tefillin. A few allowed women to lead non-essential parts of the service even where men were present. The problem was that some of the restrictions were Biblical, some rabbinic, and some by custom only. Those that were only custom, reasoned some Modern Orthodox rabbis, could be changed to meet the new demands. Others, even in Modern Orthodox circles, feared the "slippery slope". Where would this lead? What other traditions would be jettisoned? Some questioned the very motivation. Was it really a religious desire on the part of the feminists; or a political desire to undo what had always been done? Many of these issues remain to this day.
In the Conservative movement, there were three types of response. Those who took the view that even Biblical laws could be changed if not in line with current values, embraced full equality of women in all areas, irrespective of limitations of halachah. The more traditional elements were opposed, based on halalchic standards, as well as fears of the slippery slope. There was a large "middle ground" that welcomed a reexamination of sources, with a view of changing what was non-essential, while maintaining halachah. The newly retired long-time chancellor of JTS, Rabbi Dr, Shaul Lieberman, highly respected even by many Orthodox leaders, issued an impassioned plea against any change in this area. He feared that it would not stop with feminist issues, but result in a questioning of traditional Judaism altogether. But many of his students disagreed. Perhaps it WAS time for a new look at women's roles. They said let's write papers, let's have them peer-reviewed. Where changes were warranted, we'll change. Where contrary to halachic norms, we won't. One of the main advocates for this view, a man whom I greatly respect and admire, was Rabbi Alan Yuter. He is a brilliant scholar, and a man of incredible passion for truth. (I have met him a few times, but have corresponded with him much). But soon he, and many of his colleagues, felt that they had been slapped in the face. The lay leadership of the movement informed the rabbis that there was no time for papers. Full equality for women was a grassroots demand, and it had to be approved yesterday. Some of the left-wing issued hastily drawn up papers justifying this, with "halachic" reasoning that was, to say the least, strained. Seeing that they had no majority for these changes among their rabbis, the lay branch set up a different method of voting that would ensure the passage of these measures. Rabbi Yuter and his friends felt betrayed. Their openness was "rewarded" with a flagrant bypass of even Conservative norms. Although many chose to remain in the movement, forming a vocal protest group, others, including Rabbi Yuter, left. He joined the Orthodox rabbinical group, and took a position at a Baltimore Orthodox synagogue (at a $40,000 cut from his previous salary), which he held for several decades until his retirement. It must be emphasized that it wasn't the feminist, or Egalitarian issue that bothered these men,.It was the abandonment of halachah as the deciding factor in rendering decisions. A common quip which I hear from friends who are Conservative rabbis, satirizing the classical Zionist slogan "If you will it, it is no fable", now became "if you will it, it is not the halachah".
To be sure, there are Conservative rabbis who maintain a large degree of commitment to traditional Jewish values and practices. But the movement had taken a huge left turn. It still issues "halachic pronouncements", but sources no longer have a veto. After 1980, more and more issues were dealt with in this way; many details of Shabbat observance, homosexuality, definition of who is a Jew; even intermarriage were accepted, or are at least  "on the table" for discussion. Often, they will openly declare a Biblical or Talmudic law to be abolished.
(One caveat to all this: In outlying areas, where there are generally no Orthodox synagogues, the Conservative synagogues often accommodate Orthodox individuals by making sure that traditional ways are kept; maintaining a non-threatening atmosphere. I have friends who live in such communities, and I have seen many like this)
The response of Orthodox leadership was to cut all ties with the movement. Orthodox rabbis were no longer to be placed in Conservative synagogues; those already there were urged to leave. A huge gulf now existed, with little room for discussion. Are they Jews? of course. Both sides still work together on many issues that face the Jewish community. But halachah was no longer a shared legacy, albeit with differences. Each movement has, sadly, gone its own way. The Jewish people are definitely the poorer for it. The Conservative movement lost membership, going, in just a few short years, from being the largest of the movements to the smallest. May G-d enlighten us with His Torah, and bring unity to our People!
In my next installment, I will discuss the Reconstructionist movement.

Orthodox and Non-Orthodox Judaism Part 4

At the end of my last post, I alluded to the fact that an element of German Jewish tradition took on a new meaning in the Conservative movement that put, over time, a considerable distance between it and Orthodoxy.
The method of studying, especially Talmud, of the European yeshivot, was, and is, to analyze, compare texts, and determine the meaning and implication of passages. This method goes back to the Medieval scholars of France and Germany, perfected in the great yeshivot of Central and Eastern Europe, especially Lithuania. Particularly after the Shabbetai Tzvi debacle, the goal of study became study itself, without emotionalism or spiritual speculation. I have previously discussed the fact that the Sepharadic method was different; placing the emphasis on coming to practical conclusions. In Germany, a new and controversial method of study developed. Texts were analyzed from a "scientific" perspective. Who made the statement? Why did he make it? Were there political or social motives behind statements? Did the fact that a particular Talmudic sage was the son/brother/brother-in-law/cousin of another sage influence his thinking? From a method of study, this turned into a movement in nineteenth-century Germany called Wissenschaft des Judentums (Jewish Knowledge). The Wissensschaft people turned away from Orthodoxy, even seeing traditional Judaism as a relic that needed to be studied. Being a "Jewish Scholar", for them, took on the meaning of the scientific study of what was. Spirituality or observance now took on a very secondary, or even negative, image. I am reminded of Woody Allen's sarcastic analysis of musicology; that one can't appreciate a great piece of music unless one knows the date and place of birth of the composer. Orthodox scholars pointed out that this method was draining Judaism of its "sacral power". My late friend, "Pet" of the Reform movement once told me "When things were good in Judaism, people studied Judaism. When things were bad, they wrote Jewish history".
Many of the faculty at the (Conservative)  Jewish Theological Seminary were influenced by the Wissenscaft movement. Unlike their German counterparts, they remained committed, at first, to Jewish law and tradition. But the methodology changed from looking for what the sacred texts were telling us, to sources for analysis from a scientific, literary and social standpoint. It was a form of Orthodoxy to be sure, but one concentrating on what happened and why, rather than what is its enduring message. There was actually a serious consideration to merge JTS with (the Orthodox)Yeshiva University in the late 1920s, which failed not over the issue of theology or practice, but over the method of study.
Eventually, a portion of the faculty of JTS came up with the following reasoning: If we are seeing Judaism as the result of a historical process, can we not further that process? In other words, if our current values conflict with Talmudic, or even Biblical values, our own values should be seen as no less valid, trumping the ancient ones.
Most of the faculty of JTS recoiled at this idea. Analyze, see where things came from, study the implications of this analysis, sure. But reject Bible and Talmud in favor of societal trends? Absurd! From the 1930s onward, this became a divisive issue in the Conservative movement. The seminary had two factions in uneasy cohabitation. Students often felt compelled to choose sides. There were many areas of disagreement, but one issue in particular brought the movement to crisis in the late 1970s.That will be the topic of my next post.

Orthodox and Non-Orthodox Judaism Part 3

America in the nineteenth century was, Jewishly a wasteland. There had been a small Jewish community since the seventeenth century, mostly Spanish and Portuguese Jews, who had fled to Brazil, with some eventually coming to North America. They were joined in the eighteenth century by large numbers of German and Austrian Jews. The great migration of Eastern European, especially Russian Jews, didn't begin until 1885, reaching its climax in the first decades of the twentieth century. (Actually, Jews of the Russian empire, as Jews were not permitted to live in Russia proper.) However, well into the twentieth century, rabbinic scholarship was exceedingly rare. Most Orthodox rabbis were opposed to Jews braving the temptations of the New World. Assimilation and intermarriage, were the norm, taking a heavy toll already in the seventeenth century. Those who came with basic Jewish knowledge became rabbis in America. The same was, unfortunately, true of those who had little knowledge, but fraudulently passed themselves off as rabbis. This was true both in Reform and Orthodox circles.
A major factor in ameliorating this situation was a Reform rabbi, Isaac Meir Wise (not to be confused with the twentieth-century Reform leader, Stephen Wise).
Wise came to the United States in 1846, becoming the rabbi of the Reform Congregation in Albany, New York. He soon moved to Cincinnati, Ohio. He began campaigning for unity between factions in the Jewish community, and eliminating charlatans. Although Reform, he opposed the far more radical David  Einhorn, who had moved to a Sunday Sabbath. Wise sought drastic changes to Judaism as well, but sought to maintain a framework of Jewish tradition. He organized national conferences, at which problems facing the Jewish community were discussed, and solutions sought. His thrust was that Reform should develop on its own, but not cut ties with Orthodox Jews. He came up with a grand plan for a united seminary, where American rabbis could be trained; those wishing to be Reform would be Reform, and those wishing to be Orthodox would be Orthodox. The plan took shape in 1855, but didn't come to fruition until 1875, due largely to the American Civil War. He had the best scholars in America as faculty, from both factions. Jewish unity seemed an achievable goal. But then it happened. Exactly how is still a subject of debate. Non-kosher food was served at the first ordination dinner, including shrimp and lobster. Wise insisted that this was a mistake on the part of the caterer. But the Orthodox participants saw it as an affront, and a plot to push the Orthodox out. Did Wise have a change of heart on the subject of unity, or was it a real mistake? We'll never know. The result was clear. Battle lines were drawn, and the Orthodox faction decided to make its own seminary. The leader of the Orthodox faction, Sabato Morais (an Italian Jew), had been a professor of Bible at Wise's Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati. He now proposed the founding of a rival institution in New York, called the Orthodox Theological Seminary. There was, however, a problem. There was in America only one first-class expert in Talmud. His name was Marcus Jastrow, and he was Reform. (Jastrow wrote an amazing dictionary of Talmudic Aramaic, which is a standard reference work to this day, even in Orthodox circles. I myself refer to it several times a week.) Morais asked Jastrow to teach at his new seminary. Jastrow agreed, on condition it not be called the "Orthodox Theological Seminary", but the "Jewish Theological Seminary", and that non-Orthodox ideas should be taught as well. From this seminary came forth Conservative Judaism, which did not become a separate movement for another fifty years. In the meantime, it was a uniquely American brand of Orthodoxy, mixing Old World principles with New World ideas and values. For the first several decades, the Seminary did not bestow the title "rabbi" on its graduates. The ordination read "Teacher/Preacher". It was felt that the European-style rabbi, an ivory tower figure who presided over a network of Jewish communal structures, was not what was needed. The rapidly assimilating community needed knowledgeable professionals who would bring them back to the Jewish path; not necessarily erudite scholars. Real questions of Jewish law could be directed to the Seminary, which eventually formed a "Committee of Jewish Law and Standards", which would rule on law, and decided which compromises to Jewish law were acceptable, and which simply were not. A later chancellor of the seminary would sum it up as follows: "Judaism is flexible, but not invertebrate". A uniquely German Jewish method of study was, however, eventually to be modified, making a new form of Judaism. Unlike the case with Reform, the brake was subtle; hardly noticeable at first. That story will be my next installment.

Orthodox and Non-Orthodox Judaism Part 2

One of the areas in which the Reform movement differs from the others is in the question of independence of rabbis and congregations. In both Orthodox and Conservative, although there is some leeway in both action and doctrine, there are still red lines. Reform allows its rabbis and congregations to set their own standards and styles. Therefore, there are many "flavors" of Reform, and it is difficult to generalize on anything.
In the mid and late twentieth century, two very different thinkers and leaders arose in American Reform. Both pulled Reform away from the "churchy" style that had characterized the movement for 200 years;.Most present-day Reform rabbis have been highly influenced by one or both.
One was Alvin J. Reines (1926–2004). He developed the idea called "Polydoxy". This was intended to be the opposite of "Orthodoxy". Orthodoxy is a Greek word, meaning "Straight Belief". Reines felt that, on the contrary, Jews should have different beliefs, while accepting each other's ideas as valid. For him, Judaism could, but didn't have to, follow any classical texts or traditions. Each community, or person, could make his or her own Judaism. I twice attended a Reinesian service (in the early 1970s). Each had a theme. The first one I attended was "Yiddish Literature". The second one was "The American Indian". Poetry was read, the Cantor, in the first case, sang some Yiddish songs, and in the second, folk songs about the American Indian. The rabbi read passages about each culture. A woman did interpretive dance, in the first instance dressed in East European "shtetel" clothing, in the second dressed as an Indian woman. At the end, the mourner's kaddish was recited, and the Friday night kiddush was made. The rabbi (himself a distinguished professor of Jewish history at a major Midwestern University) said to me "You are probably wondering how this is a Jewish service. Jews put it together, therefore it is Jewish". Reines was a professor of Philosophy at Hebrew Union College in Cincinnati, the main Reform seminary. His students formed, in 1972, the Polydox Institute, which still exists. However, it now embraces not only all Jewish expressions, but all other Liberal religious ideas and non-Jewish practices as well.
The second one was J.J. Petuchowski (1925 – 1991), known affectionately by his students as "Pet". I was privileged to get to know him well, as I was, in the mid-1970s, the assistant rabbi of the German Orthodox congregation in Cincinnati, of which he was a member and active participant. Although there was a 24 year difference in our ages, he befriended me, and we spent many hours in deep discussion every Sunday morning. He was himself traditionally observant; Shabbat, Kashrut, the whole nine yards. He felt that Reform offered a freedom of inquiry and expression that the other movements, in his opinion, lacked. He was strongly opposed to the deviations from Jewish tradition that Reform had adopted. He advocated "Catholic Israel", that is a universal respect and acceptance, being careful not to deviate from practices that would endanger ties with other Jews, such as in the areas of marriage and divorce. While some of his students became observant as he was, others, while not becoming observant in the Orthodox sense, nevertheless incorporated traditional Jewish practices into their life and work. Once, I was to lecture at a Reform temple for their Sunday school, where the assistant rabbi was a student of "Pet". I came early and prayed the morning service in a side room, naturally wearing my Tallit and Tefillin. The assistant rabbi saw me, and brought the entire Hebrew School to look. When I finished, he asked me to explain to the students what I was doing. I gave a fairly thorough explanation, after which the rabbi said to the children "Reform Judaism agrees with what Rabbi Siegel has said". That's it. No "buts". This scene would have been unthinkable a decade earlier. Those Reform rabbis who studied under "Pet", and many who only read some of his books, now have an openness to Orthodoxy that was unknown for many generations. While there are still many things that divide us, there is, at least in some segments of Reform, a willingness to rethink. About ten years ago, when I gave a lecture on Orthodox belief, a "classical" Reform rabbi who was present, stood up and remarked that my beliefs were "silly". A student of "Pet" objected strongly to his words, and reported him to the Reform movement's ethics committee.
A huge gulf exists between Orthodoxy and Reform. But the willingness of many Reform rabbis to rethink, and even re-form, gives me a great deal of hope. May G-d lead us all to His Torah.
In my next installment, I will discuss the Conservative movement.

Orthodox and Non-Orthodox Judaism Part 1

As there is a lot of confusion about the meanings of Jewish "denominations", I feel some explanation is in order.
First we need to define Orthodoxy. Although there may be vast differences in practice and philosophy between groups, nevertheless, all who recognize the existence of G-d and his Unity,the special relationship which G-d maintains with the Children of Israel, the Divine origin of the Written and Oral Torah, the obligation to observe the Mitzvot (commandments) and accept the Eternal Truth of these ideas, is an Orthodox Jew. Although there may be differences in specific customs, or even in the interpretation of certain laws, all are "on the same page" with basics, and recognize the validity of each other's identity as Orthodox Jews, even if we have a different practice, or even consider the other's legal rulings hopelessly mistaken. We can disagree on details, but agree on the essential identity of all who share the same basic ideology and legal framework. Despite this, political differences often make rifts where there should be none. In these essays, I am speaking about substantive, rather than political definitions. Among the classical Orthodox thinkers of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, there were legalists, philosophers, humanists, mystics, philologists, and a host of others. With some notable exceptions, there was a great deal of tolerance for all these views.
In the eighteenth century, Western Europe was undergoing some basic soul-searching. For a century and a half, Protestantism had challenged the most basic assumptions of the Church. New sects and sub-sects arose, each with its own take on the meaning and application of Christianity. Similar undercurrents were occurring in the Jewish community, especially in Germany. Moses Mendelssohn (1729–1781) was a German Jew who was, on the one hand, sought to have the Jews learn modern languages, literature and Western philosophy, in order to be welcomed into the general community. He fought for the acceptance of Jews as having the potential for "noble character", an idea that shocked German society at the time. At the same time, he argued for the strict maintenance of all Jewish laws, Biblical as well as Talmudic law, IN PRIVATE. "Be a Jew in your home, a man on the street" was his motto. There gathered around him many German thinkers and philosophers. He also developed a Jewish following. However, we now know that his Jewish followers were mostly from Sabbatean backgrounds, the heresy that I discussed in a past series, which believed in sacred sin, and the freeing of G-d's sparks from Evil by diving into it. His students mostly broke with traditional Jewish beliefs and practices, creating a new Judaism based on the idea of "Ethical Monotheism". This idea meant that the point of the Torah was an ethical life. All the commandments, the theory went, originally had an ethical meaning, which has mostly been forgotten. In these cases, they can, and should, be abandoned. Only those that had a clear ethical message need be adhered to. The synagogue, too, needed changing. First the sermon, later the service, switched to the vernacular. The services, in most cases, began to take on the style of Christian services; clerical vestments, an organ, a choir, everything to make it more "German". The idea was born that we are NOT a people, but Germans, Frenchmen, Dutchmen, Englishmen of "Mosaic faith". In the following century, the term was coined "Reform Jews". As the idea spread to America in the 19th century, it became still more radical. In the Northeast, a Sunday Sabbath was introduced. (Although this was opposed by the Western part of the movement). Now, there was no obligation to keep the mitzvot, no special covenant relationship. At the dedication of an early reform synagogue in Charleston, South Carolina, the rabbi said "We neither expect nor hope for a return to Zion. This land is our Holy Land, this city our Jerusalem, this building our Temple". The word Temple has been used ever since for non-Orthodox synagogues. Rather than increasing Judaism's adherents, assimilation became rampant. At the centennial celebration for the Charleston Temple, descendants of the original founders were sought. Not one was still Jewish. In 1937, a convention of Reform rabbis met in Columbus, Ohio. It was discovered that fully thirty percent of Reform congregations had, since the mid 1800s, become Unitarian Churches. After all, what was the difference, other than one more prophet? A decision was made to reintroduce some traditional Jewish practices; not as obligations from G-d, but as ways of maintaining and strengthening Jewish identity. This trend continued throughout the twentieth and into the twenty-first century. Each new reform prayer book became closer to the Traditional one, in language, structure, and content. Reform Temples began to look more like synagogues, and less like Churches. However, the basic philosophy is unchanged. The Torah is not binding, except in terms of ethics. We are Americans of Mosaic faith. Some voices within Reform have arisen, urging a return to a more "Jewish" approach. Many Reform congregations welcome Orthodox rabbis to speak to their members, even encouraging Orthodox outreach groups to conduct classes or programs. It must be noted that this was not so much a change of heart, but was born of a realization that they had cut away their roots. Several late twentieth-century reform leaders have left an indelible mark on Reform worldwide. I will discuss more in my next installment.

The Dispute of 1538, and its Ongoing Repercussions part 6

The founding of the State of Israel needed to be interpreted theologically by religious Jews. Like in the case of the 16th century Safed community, different approaches sprang up. Each had sincerely held views; often seeing the opposing views as nothing short of dangerous, or even heretical.
One view was that the founding of the State was actually a rebellion against G-d. It is a secular State in the Holy Land. Could there be a greater insult to G-d and Torah?To rebel against the King is bad enough, but to do so right in the King's palace? This group saw the attempt to end our exile by our own efforts as nothing less than an affront to G-d and His judgments. The militant "Neturei Karta" (guardians of the city), are a prime example of this approach.
A second, much larger group, were not anti-Zionist, but highly skeptical non-Zionists. They chose to live in the Land, abide by its laws, but not to see the State as having any theological basis. This group included the heads and members of the Charedi (Ultra Orthodox) Yeshivot and most Hasidic groups.
The third group is known as "National Religious". The first Chief Rabbis of Israel declared the founding of the State to be "Itchalta d'geulah" (the beginning of Redemption). A prayer was composed by the writer and Nobel Laureate S.Y. Agnon, which begins "Our Father in Heaven, Rock of Israel and its Redeemer, .bless the State of Israel, the first sprouting of our Redemption". This prayer is recited weekly in most Israeli synagogues, and many in the diaspora as well.. Israel independence day was declared a religious holiday. Religious Jews were to partake fully in all the responsibilities of citizenship. Further stages of redemption would take place in G-d's time, in accordance with His will. In the mean time, celebrate what we have and realize that something far greater is in the offing. Just be an Israeli, study Torah, keep the mitzvot (commandments) and judge the secular majority in the "Scale of Merit", they will soon come to G-d. This is the view of the majority of non-Charedi Orthodox in Israel.
A fourth group, by far the most controversial, believes (as Rabbi Berav did) that this is the historical moment to act. The Temple Mount must be liberated, the Temple built. An organization was founded, with international support from both Jews and non-Jews, to study all that is relevant to the Temple. Many of the vessels for a Third temple have already been reconstructed, with more being prepared all the time. Consciousness-raising events are frequently held, in order to popularize the idea of a Temple and all that goes with it. Like with Rabbi Berav, a Sanhedrin has been formed (which has gained little support or recognition beyond this group). This was accomplished by sending a registered letter to every (government authorized) rabbi in Israel, asking to re-start the chain of Smichah, by ordaining a famous Jerusalem rabbi (who was actually a Charedi rabbi, one of the leaders of the first group mentioned above, who nevertheless was sympathetic to this idea).. Any who did not reply, would be considered as abstentions. The majority of those who did reply, voted in favor. They saw smichah as having been re-introduced. Others were ordained; some important scholars, others more activists than scholars, but still possessing considerable learning.Many of the members consider this THE Sanhedrin. Others consider it more of a consciousness raising exercise. All members have signed a document that they will step down if a more suitable candidate were to  come forward. (One of the heads offered me a place in it, but I declined). This group sees the establishment of "facts on the ground" as essential to the full Redemption, and the appearance of Mashiach.
Tensions between these views exist, and often result in open controversy. The parallels with 1538 are unmistakable. Is this "dochek et haketz", the premature push for Redemption, or a natural response to not only the call of history, but the call of G-d? Each view has major rabbis supporting it. Each view has major rabbis opposing it, seeing it as paving the way to disaster. There can be no doubt that each view is sincerely held "L'shem Shamayim" (for the sake of Heaven). We can only hope and pray that G-d will lead is in the right way, in accordance with His will.

The Dispute of 1538, and its Ongoing Repercussions Part 5

In 1538, everything added up. It must be the Redemption! This was the view of Rabbi Berav, and of many others. Rabbi Ben Habib didn't necessarily disagree, but felt that any attempt to act on this feeling was premature, and actually fraught with danger. Now, let's fast forward to the late 19th century. A similar situation arises, with responses remarkably similar to those of 1538.
A wave of attacks against Jews, called pogroms, swept across the Pale of Settlement; those areas of Czarist Russia where Jews were allowed to live. Murder, rape, pillage were daily occurrences well into the early twentieth century. In Western Europe, mobs were running through the streets of Paris crying "Death to the Jews!", as a result of the false accusations against Dreyfus, which I have written about elsewhere. Some Jews, largely assimilated, anti-religious Socialists decided that the Jews needed a State in order to be safe. Groups of young people began migrating to the Land of Israel, then a Turkish province. The religious Jewish community in Jerusalem and other cities was not happy about this, as it was felt that their secular, even libertine ways would weaken the ways of Torah in the Holy Land. Nearly every rabbi in the world was opposed to the new movement. But as things worsened for European Jewry in the twentieth century, more and more Jews sought refuge in the Holy Land; not only Socialist idealists, but people with simply nowhere else to go. The Revisionist leader, Ze'ev Jabotinsky preached across Europe "Jews, put an end to the Exile, before the Exile puts an end to you!" Few realized how prophetic his words would turn out to be. The end of the first World War saw Great Britain in charge of the Land Of Israel. But when the situation deteriorated in Europe, the British clamped down on Jewish immigration with the infamous "White Paper". Millions could have been saved from the Nazis had the British allowed them into the Holy Land. One British "statesman" famously quipped "the fewer Jews left after the war, the fewer problems for Great Britain". Rabbi A.I. Kook had been preaching for decades that the Zionist movement, although secular and even anti-Torah, was subconsciously a response to a religious calling; in fact, he said, it was the beginning of the Redemption foretold in Scripture. Very few rabbis agreed with him. But after World War II, when Jews had nowhere to run (even the American administration refused Hitler's offer at the beginning of the war to take the Jews), two short years later, the United Nations voted to found the State of Israel. (November 1947, taking effect May, 1948). Many religious Jews, including many rabbis, felt that this meant something much more than met the eye. The persecution of the nineteenth century, culminating in the Holocaust of the twentieth century, had now reversed itself. The "birth pangs" had largely passed. Hundreds of thousands, soon millions, of Jews had returned to the Holy Land, with the blessing of the Nations that had formerly oppressed us! Could this be the promised redemption? Some thought this a wildly premature notion. Would Israel even last? An uncle of mine was a reporter. He was covering the vote for establishing the State of Israel at the U.N. He interviewed the Israeli diplomat Abba Eben. He asked Eben if he thought Israel would still exist in fifty years. He sighed deeply and said "I hope so." Many others thought, like Rabbi Ben Habib had thought four hundred years earlier, it might be...it likely is...but let's see how it plays out. Let's pray, do good works, and wait. But some said "no! Jewish history, the very place of G-d in the world, is in our hands! We must act. We must establish facts on the ground". But how? Most rabbis were not just skeptical, but frightened at the prospect of interpreting events in a theological way, when there really was no proof. Others, including great rabbis, felt that not to recognize G-d's working in history was a perverse denial of everything we believe. Each view had, and has, its adherents. What was done? What could, and can be, done is an ongoing question. The parallels with 1538 are unmistakable. The story is still in the midst of working itself out. What was done by each side? That will be my next post.

The Dispute of 1538, and its Ongoing Repercussions Part 4

I concluded my last post with an allusion to the concept of "Dochek Et HaKetz" (to push the "end"). Our sages point out that many of the great mistakes of history came about as a result of "jumping the gun". The Golden Calf, for instance, was made because Moses was late in coming down from Mt. Sinai. How late? Six hours! They supposed him dead, and made a ridiculous substitute. The consequences were disastrous. There are numerous other examples.
Beyond that, one of our central concepts is the coming of Mashiach. Yet, the Talmud records a curse for anyone trying to calculate the time of his arrival. RAMBAM  even goes so far as to say not to think about it too much, as it adds neither to our love or awe of G-d, but to believe that when G-d wants, it will happen. (The current folk belief that we are required every moment to beleive he is coming instantaneously, is contradicted by all Talmudic sources).Yet, we find throughout our history, large numbers of people deciding that someone MUST be Mashiach. Disaster resulted. Sometimes entire heresies grew up around failed Messiahs. Jewish tradition is clear. "If you are planting a tree, and someone runs up to you saying Mashiach has come, finish planting, and then investigate." We find NOWHERE in scripture or Jewish tradition that someone is to be BELIEVED to be the Mashiach. If someone seems like he MIGHT be, and he fulfills certain criteria, he may be assumed to be, until proven otherwise. But nothing changes. Only when he has accomplished his task; in-gathering the exiles, building the Temple,, and ushering in an era of peace, may we BELIEVE that he IS the Mashiach. Many have lost their faith, or even their lives, in premature acceptance of a make-believe figure. I have endured much anguish over the years from people claiming that one or another political figure (!!!) is certainly Mashiach, or every time there is a border skirmish in Israel, impassioned cries go up "this is it!! The War of Gog and Magog! pack your bags!". Even the great Rabbi Akiva erred in thinking that Bar Kochba, who lead a rebellion against Rome, was Mashiach. He must be! Everything is lining up! A colleague said to him "Akiva, grass will grow from your cheeks, and Mashiach will not yet have come".
Here we get to Rabbi Ben Habib's central concern. He saw Rabbi Berav's real motivation for renewing smichah, and forming a Sanhedrin, as the first steps in preparation for the Redemption. There can be little doubt that this was, in fact, Rabbi Berav's intention. Everything is lining up! We have witnessed the destruction of Iberian Jewry. That MUST be the pre-Messianic travails spoken of in scripture. Thousands have come back to the Holy Land! Let's get everything ready! Rabbi Ben Habib also thought the Redemption is likely near. But there is nothing to do but pray, perform righteous deeds, and wait. From his perspective, the premature exultation could only lead to chaos. In fact, similar thinking led to the Sabbatian debacle a little more than a century later; a tragedy which has left terrible scars on our people to this day. (I have discussed this in an earlier post, and will  elaborate on this in a coming series). We can well sympathize both with Rabbi Berav's interpretation of history, as well as Rabbi Ben Habib's fears. I titled this series "The Dispute of 1538, and its Ongoing Repercussions". What are the ongoing repercussions? That will be my next post.

The Dispute of 1538, and its Ongoing Repercussions Part 3

Two of the greatest rabbis of the era were engaged in a struggle over a point of law. But it had gone far beyond that with Rabbi Ben Habib's scathing attacks; not only on Rabbi Berav's stance on the issue, but on Rabbi Berav himself, ultimately making him a fugitive. But why? Some history books will tell you that it was simply personal jealousy and animosity on Rabbi Ben Habib's part. A more careful analysis of the facts, however, will show that his intent was far more noble, with an eye on possible danger for Judaism itself.
Rabbi Ben Habib's concerns, as is evident from his impassioned writings, were as follows:
We don't know if RAMBAM's view is correct. He brought no sources for his view. Besides, even if we accept his view as authoritative, how can you be sure that your group of 100 scholars fulfills his requirement of "all" the scholars in the Land of Israel? But it MIGHT BE valid, which is worse than a flat "no". You will now make a Sanhedrin of DOUBTFUL authority. Once you do, the calendar will no longer be valid, and we will need to go back to the original Torah requirement of the Sanhedrin calculating the calendar monthly. That would be fine if you are sure that it is, in fact, a valid Sanhedrin. But with a doubtful Sanhedrin,you will make a calendar which may or may not be valid. Some will accept your new calendar, some won't. The Jewish People will be divided on which days the holidays are to be observed! We will, in effect, become two religions, two peoples.
Also, if you have a valid Sanhedrin, they can make new ordinances, and repeal ancient ones. This is a major "gamer changer".Here, too, half the people will accept the new ways, half won't.
Besides these factors, this is essentially the work of one man with many admirers. How do you presume to impose your will and opinions, no matter how sincerely held, on the entire nation?
Rabbi Ben Habib's apparent "out of bounds" reference to Rabbi Berav's brief apostasy should be understood in the same context. His actions threatened to totally divide the people, as the Karaite heresy had done eight hundred years earlier. He felt it necessary to de-legitimize the founder of the possible schismatic approach before he succeeded in convincing large numbers of people. Desperate situations call for desperate measures.
Beyond all this lurked something even more frightening, with even more far-reaching possible consequences. It is something which our sages called "Dochek et Haketz" (Pushing the "End"). That will be the topic of my next post

The Dispute of 1538, and its Ongoing Repercussions Part 2

Rabbi Jacob Berav saw the re-establishment of the ancient chain of ordination (smichah), and the establishment of a Sanhedrin, the great court of Deuteronomy 17:8-13, as essential for the spiritual rehabilitation of the former conversos, himself included, as well as for the Redemption; personal, national, cosmic. But how does one re-establish a broken chain?
RAMBAM had ruled nearly four hundred years earlier that it COULD be done. Had not the Biblical Prophets foretold the restoration of our Judges? But how? RAMBAM postulates that if all the sages in the Holy Land were to ordain one man, that would restart the chain. To be sure, there were those who opposed this idea, since it lacked sources. RAMBAM himself, in one of the places he discusses this, says "maybe". However, it became an accepted idea IN THEORY. After all, although there were great sages, no one since Talmudic times commanded UNIVERSAL respect and approval. And what was meant by "all" the sages? Was it really "all", or most, or many? And who is regarded as a "sage" in this regard? Any learned person? Only recognized authorities? Only those holding official rabbinical positions?
Rabbi Berav decided that "many" was sufficient. He gathered 100 of the greatest scholars in Safed, lecturing them on his idea. He then requested that they all ordain him. Many were enthusiastic. Many were skeptical, but went along out of respect for their beloved leader. Here, Rabbi Berav made a huge miscalculation. There had long been uneasy relations between him and the Rabbi of Jerusalem, Rabbi Levi ben Habib. He hastened to Jerusalem, presenting Rabbi ben Habib with a certificate of ordination. Rabbi Ben Habib, rather than being pleased, was FURIOUS. He berated Rabbi Berav for attempting such a huge step without consulting others. He wrote letters against the smichah, and against Rabbi Berav personally; even raising the taboo issue of Rabbi Berav's brief apostasy. Someone (we don't know who) informed the Turkish authorities that Rabbi Berav was planning a revolution, with the goal of setting up a Jewish State in the Holy Land and Syria. Rabbi Berav was forced to flee for his life. Before doing so, he ordained four scholars in Safed. His ordination continued through four generations of scholars, the last being ordained in 1590. That ended the great experiment...for the time being.
But why the bitter antagonism? Couldn't it have remained a polite dispute between colleagues? Was it purely personal? Or were far bigger issues at stake? That will be my next installment.

The Dispute of 1538, and its Ongoing Repercussions Part 1

When the Spanish Jews were forced to either convert or leave in 1492, many found refuge in Portugal. However, five years later the Inquisition took hold in Portugal, and again the choice was Baptism or expulsion. (More often than not, refusal of Baptism lead to slavery in Portuguese colonies). Of those who left, most found refuge in North Africa, or the Turkish Empire. The King of Turkey remarked "the King of Spain has impoverished his kingdom, and enriched mine". The new refugees prospered in their new homes. Many rose to positions of importance in the Muslim lands. But many were not interested in wealth, but in spirituality, and especially in redemption.. The Holy Land beckoned. It had been a dream for a millennium and a half. But it was a part of the Turkish Empire. A backwater, to be sure. Since the rise of Islam, it had been considered a part of Syria with no special significance. The Turkish authorities had no problem allowing their new subjects to inhabit that backwater! Of those who settled there, the vast majority chose to live in either Jerusalem, or Safed (Tsfat). Both communities were inhabited primarily by those fleeing Spain and Portugal., Many were, in fact, among the former Conversos, those who had converted under duress, but had since succeeded in fleeing the Iberian peninsula, returning to Judaism,  finding a welcoming home among their brethren in (most)  Muslim lands. Both Jerusalem and Safed had great scholars and mystics. Each community had a great leader; in the case of Jerusalem, it was Rabbi Levi ben Habib. In Safed it was Rabbi Jacob Berav. Both hailed from Castille, Spain. But that is where the similarity ends. The tragedy of the destruction of the once glorious Spanish Jewish community was fresh in their minds. Both had experienced it personally, Rabbi Berav had actually converted in Portugal under duress at the age of 17, but managed shortly thereafter to flee. He had gone to North Africa, and was made Chief Rabbi of a major community at age 18! Rabbi Levi ben Habib believed that although he, and thousands of others, were now privileged to be in the Holy Land, our long exile was not yet over. Return to the Land was in no way part of the Redemption. We had merely gone from the exile of Spain to the exile of Turkey. Perhaps our prayers would hasten the Redemption; our tears at the holy places move G-d to turn history in the desired direction! But there was nothing to do but pray, have faith and wait. Rabbi Berav, on the other hand, believed that the tragedies of Spain and Portugal were the "birth pangs" of something great; the process of Redemption had begun. The parallels with Rav Kook are unmistakable.There were many things to do; both spiritually and practically, that would hasten the already imminent redemption. There was an ongoing dispute between the two men on this subject.
But what COULD be done? First of all, many who had not withstood the test of the Inquisition, felt riddled with guilt, which was probably also "blocking" the redemption. They needed acts of penance, even mortification. But in order to have these things administered, they would need a Beit Din with the full authority of the ancient Sanhedrin; now defunct for over 1100 years! The original ordination (Smichha) had also been gone that long. It seemed hopeless! Moreover, a Sanhedrin would be essential as a ruling body for the hoped-for Jewish State, that must certainly arise before the coming of the Messiah (this can be inferred from many statements in the Prophets). Rabbi Berav was determined to see this through. Ordination must be resurrected, a Sanhedrin must arise. But how? And as one of the two greatest leaders in the Holy Land, was it perhaps his historical, nay, Divine destiny to accomplish this? Was he the Man of the Hour, or the victim of a misinterpretation of history? It would have been a great time for a Prophet to appear, but, alas, none did. What should he do? What he did, and the repercussions, will be the subject of this series.

Custom part 5

Although  the acceptance of the Shulchan Aruch by the vast majority of communities largely solved the problem of radically different approaches in different groups, the centrality  of custom was, and is, still an issue. As I noted earlier, originally customs were geographic, not genetic. If one moved to a different location permanently, one was to abandon his original customs and accept the custom of the place where he now resides. But what happens when people from several different places all settle in the same place; and what would be the status of a place that had NO customs (as Jews had not lived there before)? How would customs be set? Should they be set? Should new customs be made?
There was always a concept that if a group moved en masse to a new area, which had no existing community, the customs of the original residence should be maintained. When German Jews migrated East as a result of the Crusades (a third of the Jews of Franco-Germany were murdered at that time, proportionally equivalent to the Holocaust, but lasting a lot longer) they settled mostly in Poland, which had  few Jewish communities previously. That is how Ashkenazi minhag spread across Central and Eastern Europe. But what about when Jews came to a pace with existing customs, with the new comers becoming the majority? Here we have two very different approaches.
One approach was that they must accept the local custom completely. An example of this is Jews escaping the Spanish Inquisition settled in many places, mostly around the Mediterranean. But a sizable group also settled in Ashkenazi lands, notably Austria, and the portion of Poland known as Galizia; today that would be Eastern Poland and Western Ukraine. (I have searched in vain for information if the Polish Galizia was named for the Spanish region by the same name. Anyone know?) Those who came to Austria maintained their original Sepharadic ways, forming separate organized communities. However, those who came to Galizia,  felt it necessary to adopt their new home's ways. Most Galizian Jews are unaware that they are, at least in part, descended from Spanish Jews. Many Spanish names are preserved in Yiddish names, albeit in a barely recognizable form.  Two examples: A common Galizian woman's name is Shprintze. The name is meaningless in Yiddish, and is fairly unheard of outside that region. It is actually Esparanza! ("hope" in Spanish). The same holds true for the male name "Anshel". It is actually the Spanish "Angel".
Another approach, and far more widespread, was for each person to keep the custom of his father. This is what is most commonly heard today, and is endorsed by many great rabbis. However, there is no classical source for this.
Now, what about America and Israel? America had no ancient Jewish community. The first communities (Newport, New York, Philadelphia, Charleston) were without exception Sephardic, but soon became  the home of many Ashkenazim, eventually becoming the vast majority. Should all American Jews consider themselves Sepharadic? Should they have, but once communities were organized with Ashkenazic institutions, is this irreversible? Should each person keep his family's customs? Each of these views has rabbinic adherents, but the latter is by far the accepted opinion of most rabbis. Israel is even more problematic. It's original customs were the very basis of Ashkeanzi customs. Should it be considered "Ashkenazi territory"? Should the Jews there go back to the full observance of the Jerusalem Talmud, as their ancestors had done until 1200 years ago? (A small group of rabbis actually advocates that.). Or, since there was no organized Ashkenazi community between about 1300 and the late 1700s. is it Sepharadic territory, with everyone required to accept those customs and traditions? (This was the privately held view of Rabbo Ovadia Yosef, which he didn't address publicly for political reasons). Or is it "keep you father's ways"?. Each approach has its adherents, but  here too, the latter is the most common, albeit with the acceptance of a few customs that are universally recognized as "Minhag Eretz Yisrael". These are mostly Sepharadic customs, that became accepted among Ashkenazim in the Holy Land.
My personal approach is anti custom, unless said custom was instituted by a Sanhedrin for the entire Jewish people, or by an accepted community rabbi or Beit Din FOR THAT COMMUNITY ONLY. The fact that we have sanctified folk practices, some even pagan, has often come at the expense of real Torah practices and concepts. Needless divisions hurt us. Lets look more at the Torah, and the Judaism we present our children, rather than at what our great great grandparents may have done.

Custom part 4

We left off with the situation of sharp differences in the Jewish world between those who followed a strictly source-based approach to Judaism, with only minimal place for custom, and those who saw custom and contemporary rabbinic opinion as the overriding factors in halachah (Jewish Law). The division was very sharp in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, with, in some cases, actual book burnings. Happily, this did not continue for too long. Rabbis who were heirs to  the Tosafist schools began delving into RAMBAM, sometimes accepting the unique views he offered, sometimes finding a way of reconciling his words with what they accepted.
A major figure in forming  a more unified Judaism was Rabbi Yosef Karo (1488-1575). In Sephardic circles, he is simply known as "Maran" (our master). He was both a lawyer, conversant in both Ashkenazi and Sepharadic approaches, as well as a mystic. He wrote extensively in halachah, but also left us a fascinating diary of his mystical experiences. Born in Spain, leaving as a child for Turkey, he eventually settled in Safed, becoming its Chief Rabbi. He wrote a masterful commentary on RAMBAM. He wrote an encyclopedic commentary on the Tur; a major halachic work, which reflects primarily Ashkenazic practice, especially as understood by ROSH (Rabbenu Asher), the author's father. In his commentary called Beit Yosef (The House of Joseph), he records all known halachic opinions, comparing, sometimes criticizing, and coming up with important conclusions and compromises between views and traditions.This work is generally acknowledged as his greatest, but he is even more famous for a simpler work, which has been the common denominator for Orthodox Jews for the last 450 years.
In some of his writings, he expresses the view that RAMBAis always right, and it is his view that should be followed. However, he was faced with the reality that the Jewish world was greatly divided between Maimonists, those who followed the rulings of the Tosafist school, and communities that had still other methods and traditions. He wrote, towards the end of his life, a simple restatement of Jewish law known as the "Sulchan Aruch" (the prepared table). Although the work favored the views of RAMBAM, other views were seen as valid, and would often trump RAMBAM. He takes both Ashkenazic and Sepharadic approaches into consideration, together with a wide variety of customs; provided that he saw them as consistent with sources. The work was concise; early editions were printed with daily divisions, so that it could be reviewed monthly! It didn't stay that way. A younger contemporary of Rabbi Karo was Rabbi Moshe Isserles, an Ashkenazic rabbi of great renown.He liked the work, but felt it was lacking in the full array of Ashkeanzic practice and custom. He wrote a commentary that, unlike most commentaries that are written in the margins, his went right into the text, with notations of where is additions begin and end. Today, although many Yemenite communities are still strict Maimonists, nearly all other communities follow the Shulchan Aruch to one degree or another. Among Sepharadim, the words of "Maran" are sacrosanct, with later rabbis only occasionally differing. Ashkenazim generally follow Rabbi Isserels, but centuries of subsequent writers wrote commentaries on both; making Ashkenazi practice more fluid and flexible. Some would argue that the later commentaries distort, rather than elucidate.This goes on to the present day. As I mentioned in a previous post, RAMBAM rules for a very limited place for custom, and regards earlier authorities as more binding. True to that, Sepharadic rabbis will rarely accept opinions that deviate from the Shulchan Aruch. Ashkenazim will, however, favor a later authority, no matter when he lived, if he is seen as being of great stature. Nevertheless, all discussions are around the same masterpiece; the Shulcahn Aruch. Although we may converse in different languages, halachic discussions have, since Rabbi Karo, been "on the same page". This brought a modicum of unity, into the halachic process.

Who, and What, Is a Rabbi?

Recently, someone called my attention to a piece written by a "rabbi", who had been outed as having a purchased ordination, as well as other shady financial and sexual connections,. He argued that "it doesn't matter. i have an ordination. No matter what I do or don't do, know or don't know, I'm as much a rabbi as anyone else". Really?!?!
In the Torah, Moses is commanded to ordain Elders as judges, and to ordain Joshua as the next leader of the people. This is the basis of the rabbinic court system, outlined in Deut. 17:8-13. This ordination, called smichah, was in practice from the time of Moses, until the 4th century, when brutally suppressed by the Byzantines. This ordination empowered the holder to be part of a court, administering all facets of Torah law, as well as ruling in all doubtful areas of application of the Torah. Although the title "Rabbi" ("teacher" or "master") didn't come in until the first century, the institution is Biblical. When it died out, or, more correctly, was snuffed out, the chain ended. RAMBAM spells out how it can be re-instituted, but all efforts in this direction have, so far, met with little or no success or acceptance.
Even when smichah was in force, there were many scholars, accepted universally, who did not have it. They were teachers, preachers, inspirational figures. They either had no title, or took one that indicated that they were no part of the chain of ordination. Without that formal smichah, many areas of the Torah could no longer be enforced, particularly in the judicial area. Nevertheless, unordained scholars were chosen by communities to give them guidance in accordance with Torah. Being a recognized scholar, having the character traits of one, and being accepted as such by a community made one a rabbi in the post-smichah era.
In 14th century Germany, a great scholar was troubled by the phenomenon of charlatans, passing themselves off as scholars, being accepted as rabbis in smaller communities, where there was no one knowledgeable enough to expose them. He instituted a program of "smichah", albeit not in the classical sense, which would have him, and other recognized scholars, certifying young, would be rabbis, as suitable for employing as such. This became universal in Ashkenazi communities, but generally not accepted in Sepharadic communities until the 20th century.
In the late 18th century, the custom became in East European communities, that a would-be rabbi would receive a "smichah" at his yeshiva upon completing an appropriate course of study. He still would not be considered qualified, until he then apprenticed under an accepted community rabbi, learning how to apply the vast sea of learning to practical, every-day community situations. After a few years, the scholar would give his personal letter of ordination to the young rabbi, thereby qualifying him to serve a community on his own. It is important to note that being a synagogue rabbi was really an American innovation, now followed in many other places. Historically, one was a rabbi of a community, overseeing the school, the mikveh, the kosher food facilities, and more. If there were ten synagogues in the city, he was in charge of all. This is still true in Israel and several other countries.
In the mid and late 20th century, the unfortunate situation arose where many rabbis despaired of the Jewishness of outlying, unknowledgeable communities. Many would ordain rabbis as a favor to help them have a job, avoid military conscription, and other non-Torah considerations.This was particularly true in America, where early twentieth century rabbis often felt that they were dealing with a lost cause. Mainstream organizations began to emphasize hiring only rabbis who had ordination from recognized yeshivot. Although all knew that a private smichah might be as good, or even better, than an institutional one, how would the average congregation know which was real, and which wasn't? As the gap between the knowledgeable and the unknowledgeable continues to grow, especially outside major Jewish communities, the phenomenon of smichot given for two week seminars (!!) or even non Jewish institutions, is becoming more and more a problem. The Universal Life Church, founded in the 1960s more or less as a tax-evasion scheme (ordination free for life. Once it was mail order, now on line), now bestows the title "rabbi" as well! Are these people rabbis? Does this signify knowledge of, and commitment to, the Torah?
In non-orthodox circles, ordination is given on the basis of knowledge of history, psychology, philosophical and theological concepts, rather than halachah (law) which is only taught minimally.
So, as to the "rabbi" I began my story with, I won't consult him on areas of Judaism; I'll limit myself to "I'll have fries with that, please".

Custom part 3

As was discussed in my last post, the Spanish (Sephardic) community was the cultural and spiritual heir to the great Babylonian Jewish tradition. Rabbi Moses Maimonides (RAMBAM) (1135-1204) had received the traditions and interpretations of the Babylonian academies. He had not only collected and codified them, but had dealt with them selectively; which were authentic and which not; what was fact and what may have been influenced by the cultural context. He wrote, among many other things, a great work on Jewish law and tradition, called "Yad Hachazakah" (the Strong Hand) which is studied to this day. In fact, this work comprises a large part of my daily Torah study. He limits greatly the status of custom. He rules that only customs that originated before about 350 ce were universally binding, as they had been promulgated with the approval of the Sanhedrin, which became defunct at that time. He ruled that rabbis after that time had authority only in their own communities, and were powerless to make enactments beyond that. Although there is a Talmudic principle that the law follows the later authorities, as they would have seen all earlier opinions, and, if they  rejected an earlier opinion, we must assume that they had good reasons to do so, in his view that applied only to about 350. After that, scholars must examine all opinions, and accept those that seemed the most logical. He would rule between opinions from after 350 until his time, often rejecting views of his own teachers. He would examine customs that had arisen, deciding which were to be accepted, and which were based on error. Although RAMBAM lived and worked in Egypt, he became the central force not only for the Spanish, but also for North African and most of the Middle Eastern communities. We often use the term "Sepharadic" when discussing these communities, although this is not really accurate, as they were not actually Spanish, but shared a cultural spiritual world view. The method of Torah and Talmudic study in these countries centered on determining the actual intended meaning of these sources, and endeavoring to apply them in a way that was rationally valid, scrutinizing customs that had come in later, rejecting those that seemed baseless, especial;y if contradicted by sources and concepts which were seen as central to Judaism.
Meanwhile, in the Ashkenazic community, a very different approach existed. Whatever appeared in ancient sources, or even ancient customs, were to be observed and venerated.Apparent contradictions must be reconciled. Especially when the Jerusalem Talmud became largely replaced by the Babylonian, they nevertheless felt that the traditions, if not laws, that were enshrined in the ancient ways of the Holy Land needed to be maintained. Often, contradictory customs and interpretations were apparent. Great rabbinical scholars became more and more central to their observance, often enacting new procedures that would encompass a great array of opinions. The opinions and interpretations of recognized scholars became sources in and of themselves.As study of the Jerusalem Talmud waned (only revived in about 1700), it was not always known if a particular custom was ancient; perhaps even going back to Moses, or if it was recent. Individual towns and cities of France and Germany had their own system of customs, which were enforced as law.It must be remembered that the Jerusalem Talmud had put a far greater emphasis on custom than had the Babylonian. This became more and more crucial for Ashkenazic Jewry as it melded the ways of the Holy Land, Babylon, and their own communal ways.A great movement of scholars, called the Tosafists, wrote extensively to reconcile different opinions and customs. This went on for several centuries.Word by word analysis of the Talmud was undertaken.The writings, known as the Tosafot, is  the central work studied in Ashkenazic yeshivot (academies) along with the Talmud. It is essentially a Talmud on the Talmud! It applies keen analysis, interpretation and compromise between communities, on every topic.Many were horrified at RAMBAM's approach in rejecting that which seemed illogical. Everything must be analysed and reconciled. From this point on, Ashkenazi learning became more and more analytical. It was less about what Jewish tradition SAID, but about what were the practical and theological  implications of what was said. Indeed, learning was not only about getting information, but about constructing new models for new situations, without compromising what had gone before. While the independence of these two approaches continues largely to this day, influences on each other's thinking became inevitable, enriching each. That will be the topic of my next posting.

Custom part 2

Contrary to popular opinion, the Romans did NOT exile the Jews from the Land of Israel. Yes, thousands were taken away into slavery; but the bulk of the population remained. However, there was great persecution. When Rome turned to Christianity, the persecution increased greatly, as it now had a theological basis as well as the old Roman desire for world domination. Most of the Jews eventually fled from before this persecution. There was an existing, thriving Jewish community in Babylon (Iraq) since the 6th century BCE. Unlike the Roman Empire, attitude  toward Jews was, for the most part, not only tolerant, but actually positive. The Babylonian Jews even  had a sort of king, called the Exilarch (Reish Galuta) who was given a great deal of official authority over the more or less autonomous Jewish population. To be sure, there were periods of persecution, but these were few and far between. Many of the Jews of the Holy Land fled to Babylon, expanding and enriching the indigenous Jewish population.
As I mentioned in my previous post, after the completion of the Mishnah in the early third century, the rabbis of Israel and Babylon studied this work, commenting and drawing conclusions for Jewish practice; both in the areas of law and custom. Many of the rabbis of the Holy Land did emigrate to Babylon, but many stayed. Those who stayed had to meet and study in secret, as the Byzantine Romans put down any expression of Judaism in the most brutal ways. As a result, the comments on the Mishnah, known as the Gemmara, were, in the Holy Land very brief. After about a century and a half, it ceased altogether. In Babylon, not only did the rabbis meet openly, but there were biannual meetings of the scholars from all over the country, to study together and "compare notes".While it was generally acknowledged that the Israeli rabbis were greater, the rabbis of Babylon were able to delve into their studies far more. The composition of the Babylonian Talmud took place over a period of at least three hundred years, with many historians believing it was more like six hundred years. Being a more complete work, it was eventually (about the year 900) accepted by the entire Jewish world as more authoritative. In the area of custom, while the Jerusalem Talmud puts far more emphasis on it that the Babylonian, the post Talmudic Israeli community and its rabbis even went so far as to establish that a custom could outweigh a law, based on an obscure passage in the Jerusalem Talmud..The Babylonian rabbis opposed this view strongly. There was even a period of about a century when the Jews of Israel and Babylon were observing holidays on different dates! All agreed about the law, but the Israeli community argued that their custom overrode the law. Eventually, the Babylonian view prevailed.
Now, when the Jews fled the Holy land, and many went to Babylon, many others fled to Europe. Large numbers fled to the Iberian Peninsula (Spain and Portugal), while many others fled to Italy. Charlemagne invited Italian Jews to move into his empire in France and Germany.The former community is known as Sepharadic, the latter Ashkenazic, from the Medieval names for Spain and Germany respectively. Although both populations originated in the Holy Land, for various geopolitical reasons, the Ashkenazic community had easier access to the Israeli scholars, maintaining the practices of the Jerusalem Talmud for many centuries, while the Sepharadic community had easier access to Babylon, and, at an early era, had gone over to Babylonian practices. When it became accepted that we follow the Babylonian Talmud, the Sepharadim had no problem; they had been doing that for centuries! For the Ashkenazic community, there was now a fundamental crisis. Their common law was the Jerusalem Talmud; their statutory law was now the Babylonian Talmud. I shall examine in my next article how this influenced the remarkable birth of a new approach to practice, study, and general perception of Judaism in the Ashkenazic community, and what happened when the inevitable "cross pollination" between the communities occurred.

Custom 1

In an earlier post, I differentiated between "Tradition" and "Custom" I went into some detail on "Tradition". Let's now discuss custom.
The fact is that that the classical sources deal very little with custom. The primary source is a fairly brief statement in the Mishnah (core work of the Talmud), which teaches the following: On festivals, nearly all work is forbidden, similar to Shabbat. For two of the festivals, Passover and Sukkot, we have a "full festival" at the beginning and end (one day in Israel and two days in the Diaspora), with several intermediate days. These intermediate days are called "chol hamo'ed" (the week days of the festival). On chol hamo'ed some labors are forbidden, while others are permitted (primarily those which, if not done, would result in a loss). Passover is a unique situation, in that the day before Passover, although not technically a holiday, had the offering of the Passover sacrifice in the afternoon, while the celebratory eating of the Paschal lamb took place only at night, with the commencement of the Passover holiday. By rabbinic enactment, work was restricted on the afternoon of the offering, similar to chol hamo'ed. We are informed, however, that some places had the custom of not doing work on the morning of Passover eve, while other places continue until mid day.. If one goes from a place that does work, to a place that doesn't, if a permanent move, one abandons his previous practice and adopts the custom of his new home. If a temporary stay, one needs to follow whichever practice is stricter. We see from this two things. First, that customs need to be observed. Second, that at least at that time, customs were neither personal nor familial, but geographic.Although we do find elsewhere "the custom of their ancestors is in their hands", this clearly means the ancestors of a particular community.
The Mishnah is discussed in the Gemmara (the two together make up the Talmud). We have two Gemmarot, one of the Sages of the Holy Land, which we call the Jerusalem Talmud, the other of the Sages of Babylon, which we call the Babylonian Talmud. Usually, the Babylonian goes into much more detail in its explanation of the Mishnah. But in this case, the Babylonian Talmud only discusses the apparent meaning and implications of this statement of the Mishnah, while the Jerusalem Talmud goes into an uncharacteristically lengthy discussion of a variety of customs; including which are valid, and which are not.However, it also mentions various of cases of rabbis coming into communities where customs which made no sense were observed, yet they were careful to respect and maintain the local custom. In the Babylonia Talmud, when rabbis came across a custom which they found improper, they spoke up against it. In the Jerusalem Talmud, customs, even if in error, were to be respected and maintained. How did these diverse views effect different Jewish communities in the post-Talmudic era? That will be my next post.

Tradition

One of the difficulties in translating from one language to another, is that a word in the original language, may have more than one meaning. Sometimes, the meanings of one word could be opposites. This is the case with the word "cleave" in English, which can mean "to stick to" (as in cleave to a person) or "divide", (as in to cleave a piece of meat). When translating into another language, we must be certain how the word was used in the original context, or else, our technically correct translation, we, in fact, be a total distortion.Sometimes it is actually difficult to know what the author meant, or the ambiguity may have been an intentional literary device, essentially impossible to translate..
This is the case with the word "Tradition". A tradition may be a custom, like having cranberry sauce with our Thanksgiving turkey. It's not a law; I have yet to hear of anyone arrested for not eating it. Yet, it is a long standing American tradition. If one only had a hamburger on Thanksgiving, he would probably feel that he had missed out, and would spend the next few days regretting the loss, albeit temporary, of this tradition, of which he has memories going back to his earliest childhood, with associations with friends and family, many now gone. He has lost out on a connecting link between past, present and future. Yet, it is not obligatory.
Now let's take a look at England. England has no constitution. It's laws are based on Common Law, much of that going back to the Magna Carta. Essentially, they are Traditions, which have the force of law. One such Tradition is the right to trial by jury. This has become enshrined in the Constitution of the United States, as well as of many other countries. If an accused criminal demanded a jury trial, it would be outrageous for the judge to tell him "I don't think so. It's only a custom, and I'm too busy this week to deal with it". True, in England it is only common law, but is, nevertheless, law. It cannot be compared with the cranberry sauce.
In Judaism, the cranberry sauce example would be called "minhag" (custom; a traditional practice). The English trial by jury would be called a "mesorah", which means "to be handed down". Some Mesorot are considered Biblical, although not spelled out in the Bible. For instance, nowhere in the Bible do we have the age of thirteen as the time when a boy becomes enough of a man to be considered responsible for his actions, and fully bound by the laws of G-d. However, we have "received" a mesorah that this is the meaning of "a man" in the Bible. This has been handed down by G-d to Moses, and from Moses to the people. It would be ludicrous to think that there is no Torah definition of reaching one's majority, as the courts would have needed to know when to enforce a certain law in the case of a particular person. In fact, we consider this Biblical, not rabbinic. Other things have been enacted by rabbinical courts, as specified in Deuteronomy 17:8-13. They may legislate to strengthen, or "put a fence around" a Torah law. Although they do this by authority of the Torah, nevertheless, it is considered rabbinic law.An example of this would be the eating of Hametz (leavened food) on the day before Passover. The Torah commands to bring the Passover sacrifice on the afternoon of the day before Passover, before Sundown.We are told in the Torah to not bring the Passover "with leaven". We have a Mesorah, going back to Moses, that this means that leaven must be out of our possession by noon of the day before Passover.We regard this as Biblical. The ancient rabbis forbade eating leaven for two hours before this time, and required  having it out of our possession, by one hour before noon, as a "fence" so as not to make an error on a cloudy day. We are careful to note that this is NOT part of the Torah, except as the Torah gives the courts the right and obligation to protect the laws. This is rabbinic law.This, too, is part of the Mesorah, while keeping the two separate and distinct.Otherwise, we would be violating the Torah's prohibition of "you shall not add or detract" from its laws.There will be differences in how it is applied. For instance, in a case of a doubtful situation, in a Biblical law we need to be strict, in a rabbinical law we may be lenient. Now, there may be local, or family, traditions surrounding Passover. These are considered Minhag, and depending on the community, they may be regarded as very sacred, albeit not laws. This is especially true in Ashkenazic tradition. In other communities, this is much less the case. I was told by a leading Yemenite rabbi "the minhag is to keep a minhag, but there is no legal necessity". In the former cases, the Tradition is, in fact, law. In the latter, it is below the level of law, but nevertheless is observed, and honored,  as Minhag.
Therefore, when we speak of "Jewish Tradition" we must be very clear of what we mean. Do we mean Mesorah, and, if so, what kind of Mesorah, or do we mean a custom? All are holy, but not all are obligatory in the same way.