My Story 20

I followed up on Mendel Gertner's suggestion, and applied to the course for sofrim. Little did I realize that this was to be for me a watershed moment in many ways. First of all, the entire class was made up of Kollel students. These were advanced learners, way beyond the level of training which most rabbis receive. Most of my learning, up to that point, had been self taught, with important rabbis guiding me, and allowing me to "pick their brains".My classmates were well versed in texts, familiar with vast arrays of opinions. I was jumping into the deep end of the pool. In addition, the course was conducted in Yiddish, a language in which I am not really fluent. When I didn't know a word that was used, I would write it down, and inquire afterwards as to what it meant. The instructor, Rabbi Ben Zion Wosner, is the son of one of the "gedolim" of Bnei Brak in Israel. Like most Israeli rabbis, he was knowledgeable and personable, but with never a smile or a laugh. I was not used to that. But most eye opening to me was how sources were dealt with. What I had previously learned was that there was no such thing as a 'wrong" rabbinic opinion. Everyone was right on some level. The art of "Paskening" (coming up with a final ruling), was to weigh the strengths of the authorities involved in any dispute, arrive at a majority consensus, thereby determining the "main" opinion on an issue, while also considering those whose rulings that were stricter to be followed where possible, as well as those whose opinions were more lenient, to be utilized in an emergency. Here, there was a different "ball game". Sources were analyzed critically. Our "jumping off point" was the Mishnah Berurah, which has become the standard book of halachah for most Ashkenazim. Rabbi Wosner would examine the Mishnah Berurah, pointing out misquotes, misunderstandings of earlier opinions, and sometimes fuzzy logic. He did the same for the seventeenth century rabbis whose opinions form the backbone of Ashkenazi practice. I had never heard anything like this. I expected this class of rabbinic scholars to protest, or even walk out. Nobody did. I then realized that the halachic process had been "dumbed down" in less advanced learning. I had the very troubling experience of a Yeshiva dean ask me what I had learned in my last class. Upon hearing that I had learned that there were four glaring errors in the Mishnah Berurah on the letter "tet", he said "there are no errors in the Mishnah Berurah". I opened the book and showed him. He ran from the room crying. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about this. After deconstructing the Mishnah Berurah, Rabbi Wosner would then analyze the sources to find out what the proper conclusion was. This gave me a whole new understanding of how halachah works! On one level, I was gaining insights into the scribal laws that most sofrim, or even most rabbis, never get. When I moved to Israel three years later, I quickly became recognized as an authority in this area. But on another level, I was realizing something very troubling. Ashkenazi halachah was heavily based on authorities who relied heavily on "svara", theoretical constructs, not based on sources. I was learning that many of these svarot were less than logical. In some cases, Rabbi Wosner would dismiss these views, no matter who came up with them. In other cases, he would say "this doesn't make sense, but it is the accepted halachah". I found that troubling. As we studied the entire gamut of opinions, it became clear to me that the Sepharadic authorities were much more sources based, with minimal "svara". Although Rabbi Wosner was rejecting these views as "not our minhag", I couldn't unsee what I had seen. Years earlier, I had gotten to know the Syrian Jewish community in Brooklyn The son of their Chief Rabbi had been my professor for Arabic in college, and had invited me many times for Shabbat. I found the Sepharadic ways aesthetically pleasing, but I knew it "wasn't mine". I could only admire it from afar. But now, the superiority of their approach was jumping out at me from every page. I felt perplexed, but not yet at the verge of a breakthrough. I began studying more and more Sepharadic texts. They made so much sense! As I began doing work as a sofer, the Sepharadic script seemed to hypnotize me. Although most Ashkenazim consider it inferior (the Mishnah Berurah considers it invalid!), its variations seemed to so well  fit sources! I struggled with this for the next ten years. Finally, I approached Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, a former Chief Rabbi of Israel, who only gained a larger following after leaving that post. He convened a Beit Din, and gave me permission to "become" Sepharadic. He even went on television and praised my decision. But I'm jumping ahead in my story. To be continued.