My Story 54

The classic structure of a Jewish community had been the "Kahal System", with a Lay and Rabbinic council, that would provide for the religious and cultural needs of the people. Courts, butchers, Mikvaot, care of the sick and dying, burial of the dead, were all part of that system. Going outside the system, usually meant disconnecting from Judaism entirely. In the last few centuries, as Jews became more active in the wider society, being Jewish was more a religious, rather than an all pervasive, force. East European communities began to have synagogues centered on occupation. The shoemakers synagogue, the cattle merchants synagogue, the blacksmith's synagogue, began to replace the central city synagogue. When Jews migrated to the New World, synagogues tended to be based on national origin; the Polish, German, Lithuanian, Spanish-Portuguese, largely took the place of the tradesmen's synagogues. Now,rabbis were the heads of synagogues, rather than communities. These maintained the rites and customs of the "Old Country", and served as cultural centers, often alongside a "landsmanschaft", an organization of Jews from a particular town. I still remember as a child being taken to meetings of my grandparents' landsmanschaft. The next generation rarely felt the need for these associations. But most Orthodox synagogues continued, until about 1960, to maintain the "Old World", with sermons in Yiddish, and East European customs preserved as in a museum. The younger generation mostly did not relate to this, and often stopped coming to synagogue altogether. Orthodoxy, in some places, was just beginning to reinvent itself. That would take another decade or two. Jumping into the breach, was the Conservative movement. It had existed since the 1870s, but had not defined itself as something "different". The great exodus to suburbia of the '50s and '60s, found Jews geographically separated from each other. The Conservative movement issued an opinion, intended to be an "emergency measure", that one may use a car on Shabbat, but only to go to and from synagogue. Later, this was made standard policy. This paved the way for huge synagogues, servicing a wide geographical area. (One Orthodox rabbi quipped that American Jews had an "Edifice Complex".) Synagogues began calling themselves "Jewish Centers", reflecting a new reality of Jews associating with other Jews, as a means to reinforce identity, as much as meeting spiritual needs. Conservatism became the predominant Jewish movement in America for the next half century. (It is now the smallest). Its thrust was to enable affluent, educated Jews to maintain an American lifestyle, while still preserving the "feel", and much of the form of traditional Judaism. In the '50s and '60s, they still put out pamphlets for their members on how to keep Shabbat, Kashrut, and even "family purity" (laws of menstruation). Little by little, those Jews who sought tradition, gravitated to Orthodoxy, while those who no longer related to it, went in the direction of Reform. Conservatism saw the need to reinvent itself as well. However, different leaders took different directions. Some sought to maintain tradition, albeit with adjustments. Some sought to become "Reform Lite". Many saw the necessity and appropriateness of becoming centers for social justice, now re-dubbed "Tikkun Olam", a classical, spiritual concept of "fixing the world", now applied to liberal politics and activism of various kinds. Conservative synagogues are vastly different from one another as a result. An important figure in mid-twentieth-century Conservative Judaism was Prof. A. J. Heschel. He marched with Dr. Martin Luther King. He also had a lot to say about Modern Judaism, both positive and negative. Many idolized him. Some of his colleagues refused to speak with him. He was the last glimmer of hope for spirituality in mainstream, non-Orthodox American Jewry. By the dawn of the twenty-first century, his ideals were all but forgotten. Conservatism today is mostly pursuing a Marxist ideal, comingled with a vague notion of Jewish culture. This was the new reality I found in the American Jewish community to which I returned in 2001.

My Story 53

Now, what have I learned? In a world of moral relativism, endless hate and violence, perverted science, and a thousand other ills, the Torah of G-d stands out as a beacon of light and truth. The rabbis of the Talmud, however, state that the Torah, "for one who merits, is an elixir of life, for one who doesn't merit, it becomes a deadly poison". Do we come to Torah seeking G-d, or trying to impose our agenda on Him? Do we approach the mitzvot as opportunities to "touch G-d", or as restrictions and hardships that we must endure? Are we mindful of the statement in Torah that disaster comes because of lack of joy in Divine service (Deuteronomy 28:47), or do we approach it as a dread burden? Rabbi Nachman's disciple, Rabbi Natan, compares the difference between a Hasid and a non-Hasid to a knish (A Jewish delicacy, made from seasoned mashed potatoes, covered in dough and fried), . A hot knish and a cold knish have exactly the same ingredients, yet their taste is totally different. Perhaps we can use that as an analogy of not only Hasid versus non-Hasid, but also to those who "get it" and those who don't.. I think before we go any further, we need to discuss the issue of rabbis, as we are dependent upon them to teach us. One of the most fundamental flaws in people's thinking, is that all rabbis are created equal. This is not the case. Non-Orthodox rabbis study a totally different curriculum than Orthodox. Here, however, I would like to discuss Orthodox rabbis and their differences. Let's use the analogy of the medical profession. There are great doctors, immersed in advanced research. Every new idea in medicine must go through "peer review." Even ideas that have gone through extensive double blind and triple blind testing, must have their results reviewed, and even retested. These are not the doctors you and I encounter. They are in their laboratories. These are the men and women who "really know". However, that is not to say that they are free of the influence of the politics of medical associations, or even the pressures of drug manufacturers. They are also divorced from the people. So there are the "Gedolim", super rabbis who have vast amounts of Torah literature committed to memory, and are trained in analyzing and comparing sources. Few people deal with them, but they make the decisions that become standard policy, and are the "rabbis' rabbis". Each group has them. They often come to different conclusions, but that is the way of Torah. The Talmud is mostly debates! However, like the great doctors, there are also pressures and constraints on them, whether communal, organizational, or from sources of funding. In some cases, especially in Israel, they are often the titular heads of political parties. One very great rabbi, whose picture was often on election pamphlets, "ruling" that the Torah obligates one to vote for that party, told me "I hate the party; but it is they who pay my salary". Nevertheless, one who is sensitive and knowledgeable can read between the lines, and understand the Gadol's true intent. The next level of doctors, and rabbis, are the teachers in the great institutions. In the case of doctors, these are not the people who do the research but are intimately familiar with that literature. Their grasp of the ins and outs of current research enables them to sort out good ideas from bad, as well as to teach others. So there are rabbis whose knowledge is not connected with developing new ideas, but rather sorting out the major views, and putting them into perspective. They will not be pulpit rabbis, but will train them. Then there are doctors who actually see and treat patients. They don't do the research, but apply the discoveries and insights they have learned to their practice. Some will be general practitioners, some will be specialists. They must keep up with discoveries that others have made. So there are pulpit rabbis, who have gone through practical training, primarily in halachah. Most are familiar with those areas which affect people's lives. But their knowledge is usually limited. Some will become expert in one particular area of Judaism. When a difficult question comes up, they will need to consult the great rabbis I have discussed above. Many, after receiving their ordination, will continue deepening and broadening their knowledge. Sadly, in the U.S. and many other countries, congregations favor "young and dynamic" over experienced and scholarly. These congregations are missing out on a great deal. Many, however, do little study after being ordained and become communal leaders, attempting to uplift their congregations in any way possible. These may be compared to First Responders. They do an indispensable service, but must not be confused with those who have delved into the depths of Torah. In the medical field, we have next the salesmen of drugs and medical equipment. They know their products. They will inform doctors of the benefits of what they are selling. Unfortunately, their job is to sell, and will thus often skew the information on the products. Many states have laws forbidding these men from giving the doctors gifts (bribes), which used to be standard. In the late '70s, there was a scandal when it was discovered that salesmen were performing operations, in order to teach the doctors how the new equipment was to be used! This is now illegal. So there are "kiruv" rabbis. Their job is to win adherents to Orthodox Judaism. They are rarely scholars, and usually have only "honorary" semichot. They usually follow a "party line", and often misrepresent the truth. I know a man who is very resentful of the fact that he was converted to Judaism based on a lecture he attended, that "proved" that there is no depression in the Orthodox community! One well known Rebbetzin was lecturing in the '60s that there is no "generation gap" (strife between parents and children) in the Orthodox community. (I guess she never heard of teenagers). Many people have written about the deception of "kiruv weekends", filled with song and dancing, which they never again see after they are "in". In my opinion, honesty is the best policy. Yes, Torah will answer all their questions, deception will only lead to problems down the line. In the medical field, there are also "snake oil salesmen", who tout worthless, unscientific remedies. So there are a host of "rabbinic" charlatans, telling people what they want to hear, or espousing their own theories, which are often without Torah basis. Some do it to get rich. Some may be sincere, but their Judaism is "homespun". They are generally "self-ordained" or have purchased a rabbinic title. They are heavily represented online. I have encountered all of these during my career. I have seen rabbis whose hands I have kissed upon hearing their teachings. I have also encountered rabbis whose hands I would like to slap for their blatant distortions. In my next installment, I will analyze the issue of community.