Friday, July 10, 2015

Daat Torah; The Mind (or Opinion) of Torah part 4



A corollary to this idea of making one Judaism, with common, codified beliefs, is, in my opinion, a "dumbing down" of Judaism. Orthodox Judaism has always included a spectrum of approaches and understandings, albeit united by certain basic principles. While unity can be a beautiful thing, putting minds into a straight jacket is not. I would like to share several personal experiences I have had.
The first was when I was seventeen. I am not from an observant background. I was greatly helped by Chabad, a group that pioneered outreach. However, one of the doctrines of this group was to insist on a literal understanding of Talmudic legends. Some were VERY hard to accept at face value. I was experiencing a crisis of faith. I began college that year. As this was shortly before the "teshuvah movement", a baal teshuvah was seen as fairly unique. The campus rabbi asked me how I was relating to traditional Judaism. I told him that I loved it, but was having a hard time accepting the legends. He said "what are you talking about? They were never meant to be understood as anything other than allegories. RAMBAM writes this explicitly". I was puzzled. I asked the rabbi who had been teaching me. He said "NO!!! Rambam said that they had allegoric meanings besides the literal." I saw the campus rabbi the next day. With the arrogance of youth, I said "You lied to me on this point". He said "let's look into the writings of RAMBAM." This idea had never occurred to me! Sure enough, RAMBAM called those who understand them literally "fools". I confronted the rabbi who was teaching me. he said "Oy! Why did he show you that? I didn't want to confuse you." My problem was not with the stance, but with his branding it as the ONLY stance.
Fast forward fifteen years. My wife and I, with our one and a half kids, moved to a lovely New England community. We were delighted to find that there were several groups of Orthodox Jews there. Our delight didn't last long, as we discovered that the different factions were at odds, even to the extent of lawsuits. We decided to try and be on good terms with all the groups. My wife befriended a woman in one of the groups (they are still in touch forty years later). The woman asked my wife to deliver a Dvar Torah to a women's group. My wife agreed happily. A few hours later, the phone rang. It was the Rebbetzin who was in charge of the group. She told my wife "I'm afraid that you will present teachings from Rabbi Nachman. We don't want to confuse the women. I will tell you what to say". My wife declined the "help" and withdrew her offer to speak. We were on shaky terms with that faction throughout our three years in the community.
My last story is much more recent. A friend (who is also a member of this group) posted a quote from an ArtScroll publication. She found the quote troubling. I replied that I understood the subject differently from the author, and proceeded to give my interpretation of the passage under discussion. I got a PM from a colleague, taking me to task for "showing that Orthodox Rabbis disagreed with each other", as it would confuse the people. Rabbis have been disagreeing for thousands of years! (Let me stress again that I am not speaking of heretical views, but different understandings within the confines of Torah Judaism). Somehow, a new approach had emerged, accepted by the community, which shut the door on any ideas that were not in conformity with the Lithuanian Gedolim.
I love Torah. I delight in finding out how different rabbis and groups have understood it throughout the ages. Let us not mistake an artificial unity where diversity has always held sway. Torah is Truth. Truth speaks in different forms. Let us make the effort to understand what is said while respecting other understandings.

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Daat Torah; The Mind (or Opinion) of Torah part 3


Another issue that many have with the Daat Torah idea is the fact that nearly all the recognized "Gedolim" are of the Lithuanian stream of Orthodoxy. The Jews of Lithuania (and surrounding areas) developed a system of study involving deep analytics of Talmudic texts and deriving ideas and doctrines from these texts that are not actually spelled out. Many have accepted these methods wholeheartedly. Many have not. Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, for example, considered much of this type of learning as "confusion". ("bilbulim") The method of study in most other places involved a strong effort to understand what the text is actually saying (not always easy!). The Lithuanians set up a great network of Yeshivot, which has been transported to Israel, the U.S., as well to as many other countries. The "Harvards and Yales" of Yeshivot are all Lithuanian-style. For most Orthodox Jews, this has become standard Judaism, with other Jews expected to hop on the bandwagon. But there are dissenting voices as well. Rabbinic leaders who are rooted in other traditions see this as a form of cultural imperialism. The Syrian Jewish community of New York is deeply divided between those who wish to maintain the way of life of their ancient community, and those who feel that it is essential to accept the ways of the Lithuanian Gedolm. Many Hasidic leaders also struggle to maintain their way of life and thought. Even German Jewish leaders, the cultural and religious fore-bearers of Ashkenazi Jewry, have reservations about this. Calls for "unity" often translate into "let's all be the same".
A related factor is the effects of all this on halachah. Different communities always maintained their own interpretations of halachah. But the Gedolim of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries have pushed the idea of one unified approach. In the first decade of the twentieth century, two great books of halachah appeared in Eastern Europe. One was the "Aruch HaShulchan" of Rabbi Y.M. Epstein. It is a rewriting of the Shulchan Aruch (Code of Jewish Law), but it did much more. In each area of halachah he analyses the development from the Torah, through the Talmud and later opinions. He describes how the accepted final decision was made, but then analyses whether that conclusion is correct. He often jettisons the common practice for another one, more firmly based on sources and logic. The Aruch HaShulchan became the standard halachic work in Yeshivot until about 1950. The second work to appear simultaneously is the Mishnah Berurah of Rabbi Y.M. Kagan, known as the Chafetz Chaim. The Chafetz Chaim had made his reputation primarily as an ethicist. The Mishnah Berurah is based on the first part of the Shulchan Aruch, only (dealing with daily rituals, Shabbat and Holidays). Unlike the Aruch HaShulcahn, its primary goal is to show how the practices of Lithuanian Judaism are completely based on sources, and is essentially the only way to understand these sources. In essence, the halachic system had ended in one definitive work; a compendium of Daat Torah. The work was hailed by some, but opposed by many. Both German and Hasidic rabbis pointed out the cultural bias. Even among the Lithuanians, most preferred the analysis of the Aruch HaShulchan over the ultra-conservative Mishnah Berurah. However, around 1950, a change occurred. Many rabbis were horrified that Orthodox Jews were changing centuries-old traditions in favor of the Aruch HaShulchan's theories. This put the common man's Judaism in danger; opening the way for considering that there might be greater truths outside the Daat Torah community. The Mishnah Berurah was substituted in virtually all Yeshivot. it has become the "gold standard", with later rabbis' opinions needing to conform. Even groups that used to oppose it have accepted it, albeit with reservations. Does this signify a culmination, or decaying of the classical halachic system? Each side has its distinguished proponents. To be continued.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Daat Torah; The Mind (or Opinion) of Torah part 2


The system of Daat Torah; turning to a group of men who are both learned and of the greatest integrity, would seem like it would be the best vehicle for both bringing about a consensus, and arriving at truth. Often, it has worked that way. However, there were and are pitfalls. First of all, with the rise of Hasidism in the eighteenth century, the face of Jewish leadership changed. The position of the Gadol (Rabbinic Greats) was primarily dependent on knowledge of sources and their application. The Hasidic leaders, called Rebbes rather than Rabbis, was primarily based on charisma. spirituality, and the ability to counsel people in crisis. The classical rabbi rarely dealt with these things. He was more interested in the permissible or forbidden, proper and improper doctrine. The Rebbe is interested in your hopes, fears, ambitions, hurts and disappointments. Although many Rebbes were also Rabbis, many were not; or even particularly learned. When an anti-Hasidic rabbi was informed about a statement made by a famous Hasidic Rebbe, that was apparently based on a very obscure Talmudic statement, he expressed surprise that the Rebbe had known the statement. Upon hearing this, the Rebbe replied "He's right, I didn't know the statement. I got it from where the Talmud got it!" In the U.S., the usual reality is that the community rabbi is rarely a great scholar, but more of a pastoral figure. When legal questions come up, he will usually defer to a Gadol. When I lived in Israel (1984 to 2001), I would often visit the Chief Rabbi's office. Once, his personal secretary asked me "Are you sure you are a rabbi?" I said to him "of course, Why?" He said "because you're always smiling. I never saw a rabbi smile". Yes, in most of the world, the idea of a rabbi as a friend and guide is still unknown. The American experience has, in effect, blended the traditional rabbi with the rebbe.
Herein lies a problem as well as a blessing. The community rabbi (in the U.S., more often the rabbi of a synagogue rather than an entire community) is free, for the most part, of making momentous decisions. That is for the Gadol. But that also means that decisions are made by those who don't interact with the people. The local rabbi knows all about the community's circumstances. The Gadol in the ivory tower probably doesn't. There is a lovely Hasidic story about a Rebbe who visited a Gadol. He asked the Gadol "What are the roofs in your community made of?" The Gadol answered "brick". "Too bad" said the Rebbe. "It would be better if they were made of iron". The Gadol thought the Rebbe a madman. He related the story to a follower of that Rebbe. "That's amazing" said the follower. "The Rebbe was speaking about leadership. He was saying that if there is a "fire", a spiritual or material crisis, brick leadership will be unmoved. Iron will moan and groan with the rest of the house. What a pity that the people of this community only have a brick roof".
Still another issue is if setting universal standards is such a good idea. Many areas of Jewish thought are not spelled out in Tanach or Talmud. Numerous approaches appear in the writings of later scholars. Although there may have been disagreements, there was almost always respect and tolerance for other views. With the system of Daat Torah, one view generally became the only legitimate one. Since the Gedolim were educated in Torah, with little or no secular education, a decision might reflect this ignorance. Even how things are done by the average person might be unknown to them. One example came in the 1950s, when a major Gadol issued an opinion about women using makeup on Shabbat. He ruled that makeup does, indeed, violate the prohibition of "tzove'a" (coloring, dying), but powdered makeup is OK. This has become standard Orthodox policy. One can buy "Shabbat makeup" in all colors, in powdered form. Another Gadol, far better versed in worldly matters, asked the first for his reasoning. He said "Powder is not coloring. If she walks out in the slightest breeze, it will blow right off". The second Gadol wrote "Not in the slightest breeze, and not in a hurricane". But the first Gadol is seen as one of the ultimate sources of Daat Torah. His view is still accepted, not for his view's logic (or lack thereof), but because of that Gadol's stature. Some will say that this is Daat Torah. Others would say that it is a distortion of the halachic process.
More issues will be discussed in my next post.

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Daat Torah; The Mind (or Opinion) of Torah part 1



After Talmudic times, until the late seventeenth  century, communities (and rabbis) were fairly independent. True, there were times and places where a group of cities, or even an entire country, would get together in a confederation, complete with  a central rabbinic/legislative council, and establish common practices, but these were not the norm. Occasionally, a great figure would have influence far beyond his own country, but it was up to the local rabbis to give their imprimatur to those decisions. Community councils chose the rabbis, taking their views and writings into account when deciding whether to accept him as rabbi. The standard practice in most places was that a young scholar would study for a number of years under the rabbis of his region. Upon completion of his studies (formalized in Germany in the 14th century with an official ordination),  he would ask an accepted rabbi of a community to accept him as an intern; seeing and partaking in every day rabbbinic duties and decision making. When that rabbi felt him to be ready, he would grant the young man an additional ordination. The young rabbi would then seek an appropriate community where he could serve. There was no such thing as the rabbi of a synagogue. That only came in fairly recently. The rabbi was responsible for governing the community (in tandem with the elected city council), making decisions in halachah that were binding upon everyone, deal with people's individual issues, perform marriages, divorces, and all other religious ceremonies; as well as oversee the synagogues, local schools, slaughterhouses, butcher shops, and mikvehs. There were no formal Yeshivot (Rabbinic Academies) at that time, although many students would often gather to a particularly great luminary, forming a sort of ad hoc Yeshivah around him.
Everything changed in the late 1600s. Although we have had many false Messiahs in our history, there was only one who garnered near universal acceptance, sending world Jewry into a tailspin upon his conversion to Islam in 1666. His name was Shabbetai Tzvi.  Like a great hurricane that reshapes the map of an area, the Jewish world was never the same. There was no country spared. Famous rabbis had also erred. There was a crisis of faith. Could even rabbis be trusted? (There are still some nine thousand followers of Shabbetai Tzvi in Turkey).
Among the after-effects of this debacle, a number of things changed. Jewish authority shifted away from the local city or town, in the direction of centralized Batei Din (Courts). These batei din were made up of the brightest and best scholars in the region, with the highest standards of integrity. To be sure, there were local rabbis. But more and more they deferred to the decisions and policies of the court of "Gedolim" (Great ones). Even "world class rabbbis" who were not members of a Beit Din wielded great sway over lesser rabbis This became known as the system of Daat Torah (Daas Torah in Ashkenazi pronunciation). Formal institutions grew around these central authorities, insuring that their students would be well trained in sources, and not fall victim to popular delusions, like the Shabbaetai Tzvi tragedy.The great rabbis have hearts and minds filled with Torah. Shouldn't they be the people we turn to in cases of doubt? Beyond that, it was felt that these men should be the ones to ask even on questions that were not directly religious ones. Should I go into partnership with X? Should I marry Y? These were questions that had not classically been the province of rabbis. But there could be little doubt that advice given by a true Torah scholar, with no personal connection to the situation, would likely to be far better than that given by random friends.
This system has become well rooted in most Ashkenazi Orthodox communities until this day. I have had the experience of being asked by congregations where I had applied for the position of rabbi, "when we ask you a question, who will be answering it?" In other words, which Gedolim do you follow? But this system also has its critics. Why? That will be my next post.