In 1983, when Menachem Begin, arguably the man most responsible for the founding of the State of Israel, resigned as Prime Minister, the prestigious U.S. news and interview program, Sixty Minutes, interviewed Ezer Weitzman, a Right-winger who had become a Left-winger. Weitzman was asked his feelings about Begin. He said "I hate everything he stands for. But I must say, he is the last honest man in Israeli politics" The interviewer said "What about you?" Weitzman answered "You think I'm in this for Israel?!?!" As if to prove his point, sixteen years later, Weitzman, now President of Israel, was forced to resign his position, due to accepting bribes and influence peddling. (Not too bad in comparison to his successor, who was convicted of rape.) This story comes to mind when I think of Rabbi Steven (Shlomo) Riskin. From the time I became religious, in the mid-sixties, he was there in the background. He was preaching and advocating a form of Orthodoxy that was diametrically opposed to what I was learning everywhere else. Since then, he has taken very brave stances; some of which seemed to me foolhardy, others brilliant. But one thing is certain. His honesty, dedication and integrity have, in all this time, been second to none. At the age of twenty-three, shortly after his ordination from Yeshiva University, he assumed the position of rabbi of a dying Conservative congregation on Manhattan's West Side. He informed the congregation that at the end of five years, they must become Orthodox, or he would leave. The congregation accepted his challenge. After all, five years for the continued existence of that congregation seemed to be a pipe dream.They had fifty members when he became rabbi. A year later, due to his dynamic speaking style (together with his short stature, people jokingly, but lovingly, called him "Little Stevie Wonder"), and a huge array of adult classes and singles' programming, the congregation grew to over a thousand members. Jewish singles are often marginalized in the Jewish, and particularly the Orthodox community. Many mocked his singles activities, referring to his synagogue as "Wink and Stare", instead of its official name of "Lincoln Square". The first time I saw him speak, the topic was "The Halachic Obligation of Joining the NAACP". I was stunned. I was involved with Chabad at the time, where non-Jews were seen as barely human. The Civil Rights Movement was seen as a direct threat. When he finished his talk, and invited questions, I got up and protested that everything he said was diametrically opposed to Judaism. (I was such an arrogant eighteen-year-old!). He came over to where I was sitting. He smiled, asked where I had learned these things, and said "yes, there are sources both ways. We must all endeavor to find the true narrative of Judaism". At the time, I thought his answer was evasive. I have come, over the years, to see how right he was. His activities in New York made him a media star, often interviewed on radio and television. He was friendly with politicians on every level of government, but never became political. He brought many thousands of Jews to a form of observance that seemed to me, and many others, outrageously liberal, but he did take many of the disenchanted, and transform them into Orthodox Jews. Rather than taking the position of burying our heads in the sand, he invited speakers to his synagogue from non-Orthodox Jewish movements, as well as Christian clergy. No topic was excluded. Celebrities flocked to his lectures. In 1980, a man with a heavy British accent began attending his lectures. Lively discussions between the rabbi and the Englishman ensued after every lecture. Suddenly, the Englishman stopped coming. Rabbi Riskin asked the other attendees if they knew why he had stopped. They said to the rabbi "don't you know who that was? That was John Lennon!" Whereas most rabbis were bent on keeping Judaism pure, Rabbi Riskin was much more concerned about bringing people to Judaism. He maintained a very liberal conversion policy. He knew that in New York of the sixties, seventies and eighties, he would have a very difficult task of getting people to abandon sexual promiscuity. In doing so, he would alienate most. He took the unusual (and controversial!) stance of allowing any woman who wished to use the community mikveh, no questions asked. Many single women actually had their own lockers at the mikveh. (In halachah, although promiscuity is certainly frowned upon, nonobservance of the menstrual laws is a much bigger prohibition). Many were scandalized by this. But he was thinking more about individuals than about preserving the integrity of the system.He would accept any person who was not quite ready to take all of Jewish observance, and have them accept what seemed to them possible. He was at Lincoln Square for twenty years. Although maintaining a strong connection with his former community, he then moved to Israel, becoming the rabbi of the mostly Anglo newly founded city of Efrat. He has been, ever since, an unpredictable gadfly, who is now challenging the rabbinic establishment in a very effective way. Conversion is one of his main topics. But he sees that more as a symbol of a larger problem.They want him to go away, but he refuses. More next time.
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