Unlike other of our handiwork that may have ethical implications – medical advances and design of clothing come to mind – technological innovations inherently are ethically neutral. Much of what we now take for granted is little more than tiny chips that have the capacity to contain an astounding amount of information or to perform complicated tasks in no more than the blink of an eye. How technology is used is another matter.

As a rule, technology that is utilized for visual purposes poses a greater challenge to religious sensibilities than technology that is aural. The ready explanation is that what the eye sees has a significantly greater impact on behavior and attitudes than what is merely heard. This is akin to the familiar Talmudic principle, lo t’hei shmiah gedolah mi-re’ah. Hearing is less reliable than seeing.

This may explain why certain innovations that may be problematic from a religious Jewish standpoint do not evoke strong negative reactions. The cell phone, which is now indispensable to most of us is also a frequent instrumentality for improper midos, as when it interrupts tefila. It is addictive and results in the enormous waste of time or bitul and (along with conventional telephones), it is a great catalyst for lashon hara. However, rabbinical hackles were raised only when cell phones became Internet accessible.

As most of us know, Professor Robert Aumann received the Nobel Prize in Economics several days ago. The headline of Haaretz’s story covering the event was: “School told Nobel Prize Winner in economics ‘you’re no good in math, try auto mechanics.’” The first line of the article repeats the point, the only change being that it begins, “at the yeshiva high school where he studied….”

Professor Aumann studied at the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School, was outstanding in math, graduated from the high school, continued in the Beth Medrash, and in interviews and speeches he has given credit to the yeshiva for his interest in math. It is nothing short of outrageous that Haaretz could not get this right, although I suspect that its willingness to print something so patently false arose in some measure from its antipathy to yeshivas.

If it is not known, I have been president of the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School for thirty-three years, and this is a voluntary position.

Four days ago, Rabbi Eric Yoffie, the leader of the Reform movement, gave what he called a sermon to the delegates attending the General Assembly of the Union for Reform Judaism. This was a long speech and it has already attracted considerable comment because of a connection he makes between opposition to gay marriage and Hitler’s opposition to gays. Much of the speech deals with intermarriage, specifically the need to welcome non-Jewish spouses, perhaps through a “formal ceremony of recognition” that might occur during “a dramatic point in the liturgical cycle.” And then we get the following:

“Rabbi Janet Marder asks non-Jewish spouses to come to the bimah on Yom Kippur morning and then has the congregation stand as she blesses them with the Birkat Kohanim.”

How much longer are we going to play the Am Echad game? Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch established the austritt community on far, far less provocation.

There is a potential for conflict in all social relations, and it exists not because people are selfish or foolish or have other shortcomings — although these are factors — but because it is natural for people to look at the world they are in through their pair of eyes and no one else’s and in terms of their own interests. The negation of self-interest may strike us as moral and often it is, yet it is not what we ought to expect and it is not always the moral thing to do. While it is generally preferable to avoid conflict, at times the preference should be in the other direction.

Since conflict is inherent in human relations, with proximity enhancing the prospect of its appearance, the crucial question is how disagreements are handled, whether with a sense of restraint or in a no-holds barred fashion, with the goal being to defeat the other side. Societies invest much in conflict resolution, and for good reason, because there is always the danger that disputes will turn violent or exact other serious costs.

That religious groups are not immune from internal discord and personal disputes is a proposition too obvious to need explication. The added ingredient of ideology or theology to self-interest increases the prospect of serious intra-group and inter-group conflict. This prospect increases in turn the obligation of those who lead religious groups to be careful about the rhetoric they use and the actions they endorse, lest religious and ideological conflict get out of control as true believers believe that their mission is sacred and they must prevail.

The dangers of religious conflict are sadly on display in Williamsburg within the Satmar chassidic group, as followers of rival claimants for dynastic succession are battling it out in synagogue, court and wherever else their twain meets. There has been violence and arrests, and because neither side is particularly blessed with a sense of restraint, what lies ahead is frightening.

(In line with the suggestion made by one of its readers, I am posting the following from the RJJ Newsletter just out. )

There is at long last heightened awareness of the tuition crises confronting a great and growing number of religious families. After years of silence about the subject, despite powerful evidence that constantly rising tuition begets enormous pain, there is talk that something needs to be done. This is good news, yet before we start celebrating we need to recognize that we are far from being out of the woods, that any effort to provide meaningful relief to families that deserve relief faces long odds.

I have raised the tuition issue for nearly the entirety of my one-third of a century as RJJ’s president. As much as I may want to think or claim otherwise, my advocacy has essentially failed. Torah Umesorah – the National Society of Hebrew Day Schools has been extremely negligent in this area and its once glorious record has been tarnished. Roshei Yeshiva have been occupied with other causes and other issues. Over the years I have been a lone voice protesting against the wrongness of an attitude that makes yeshiva education into a consumer product and the wrongness of an attitude that results in stress and pain in some of the best families that we have.

As this newsletter is being written, I am at the halfway point in a campaign, expressed through a series of full-page messages that are appearing in the Jewish Press that aim to challenge the prevailing notion that basic Torah education is not a communal responsibility. It is telling that Hamodia and Yated Ne’eman, the English-language weeklies that serve the yeshiva world and certain chasidic sectors, turned down these messages because they did not want to go into controversial territory. What we need, in fact, is more discussion and debate and not only about tuition but about a wide range of issues affecting American Orthodoxy.

I have a question regarding the disgraceful goings-on within Satmar, including but not limited to the violence that occurred on Simchas Torah when the two rival factions desecrated G-D’s name in the main Satmar shul in Williamsburg. My question is whether I should write about this incident and related matters in my regular Jewish Week column.

The argument against writing is that it is wrong to hang out our dirty linen in public, particularly when every bit of Orthodox wrongdoing is pounced on by those who hate our religion and presented as evidence of Orthodox decadence. On the other hand, writing may – and I admit that this might be a longshot – cause some within Satmar to contemplate changing the way their disputes are handled. As a collateral point, not writing may be regarded as turning a blind eye to something that is substantially wrong.

I hope that those who look at this comment will share their views with me, hopefully in a measured way. I might note that if I do write I will also touch on the wrongfulness of Satmar going to secular courts to settle this and other disputes.

Jack Wertheimer, provost of the Jewish Theological Seminary, has written a terrific, must-read article for the latest issue of Commentary. “Jews and the Jewish Birthrate” is chock full of ideas and data that add up to a pessimistic view of the American Jewish prospect. While intermarriage inescapably contributes to this pessimism, Jack’s primary focus is on fertility and related demographic factors. He notes that our median age is “seven years older than other Americans” and that “among Americans of all kinds … Jews have the fewest number of siblings, the smallest household size, and the second lowest number of children under eighteen at home.”

Furthermore, too many of us do not marry. Those who do, as often as not, marry non-Jews. We also marry later and have fewer children than other white Gentiles. In short, as Jews have become more appreciated by their fellow Americans and have made distinctive contributions, we also are moving in the direction of becoming extinct. Since we are certainly among the most avid readers of the New York Times and, I suspect, pay inordinate attention to obituary notices, we should have a good sense of what is happening at that end of the life-cycle. Many more of us are exiting than are entering and with the exception of the Orthodox, the new arrivals are far less likely to be Jewishly connected than those who have departed.

The “cumulative effect” of these developments, Jack writes, “is now being felt and will only become amplified as time goes by. In a community that has long since ceased to replace its natural losses, continued low fertility rates mean that the number of children in the communal pipeline will soon drop sharply, causing a decline over the next decade in enrollments in Jewish schools and other institutions for the young.” He quotes sociologist Bruce Phillips that soon “there will be fewer practitioners of Judaism in the U.S.,” a development that “will at some point become evident in the number and/or size of synagogues and other Jewish institutions.”

The article explores the socio-psychological, behavioral and ideological factors that contribute to the disturbing fertility pattern which is in contrast to the high fertility of the Orthodox. Although separately Reform and Conservative affiliation outnumbers by huge margins the number of Orthodox Jews, “among synagogue-affiliated Jews, the Orthodox sector contains more children than either of the other two.”

The title of this piece will be echoed in other writing. Forty years ago to this day, on September 15, 1965, Rabbi Moshe Sherer of blessed memory and I went out to Staten Island to meet with Reuben Gross of blessed memory, a noted Orthodox attorney. We discussed the growing independence of Orthodox Jewry and the need to establish a mechanism to give voice to our differences with the mainstream organizations that purported to represent American Jews. Out of this meeting came the National Jewish Commission on Law and Public Affairs, or COLPA. I was its first president.

COLPA is no more and that is a loss, yet the greater loss by far is in the abandonment of the attitudes and strategies that motivated those of us who were working on behalf of Orthodox Jewry. We were advocates, even fighters, and we weren’t afraid to be militant or unpopular. Our approach was reflected in an article that I wrote called “The New Style of Orthodox Jewry” that was published in the January 1966 issue of Jewish Life, then the publication of the Orthodox Union. We weren’t satisfied with photo ops or visits to the White House or meaningless ceremonies or glamorous trips to Israel or any of the other sterile glitter that now informs too much of Orthodox life. We focused on issues and outcomes, testifying before Congress and other legislatures, writing briefs and promoting through the media what we believe was right.

Although we were few in number and scarcely any Orthodox Jews were partners at major law firms, we gave abundantly of our time and talent and we achieved results. At the time, all three branches of the Federal government were essentially in the hands of those who believe that the First Amendment precluded any aid to parochial schools, yet when Congress passed – before COLPA was established – the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, parochial schools were included. New York enacted important legislation providing textbook and other assistance to parochial schools and the brief on behalf of a united Orthodox community had an impact on the Supreme Court.

We moved on to other fields, primarily the establishment of a body of law that I refer to as the law of religious persons. The main focus was on protecting Sabbath observers in employment, but we moved on to hospital and cemetery rights, milah and other areas. We were effective to an extent that we could scarcely predict and we gained the respect of organized American Jewry.

The Jewish Press
August 24, 2005

Even as most Israelis, including those who strongly supported the withdrawal from Gaza, shed tears and felt and shared the pain of those who were being forced out of their homes and whose communities were being destroyed, there were those who continued to attack these Jews of faith and strength who surely are among the best that Israel has.

The ultra-secular Israeli world that is represented by the journalistic cesspool known as Haaretz did its sadistic best to add to the pain, to add to its long and ignoble record of hatred for Judaism.

I write these words on a plane back from Israel, after a stay of more than a month. Each day I read the English Haaretz, a difficult exercise because without let-up the newspaper denigrated and demonized the Jewish Gazans and, more generally, religious Jewry. In my experience, I cannot think of a single issue of Haaretz that has not carried at least one rabidly anti-religious article or editorial.

Along with other members of my family, I was at the massive Tefila and Tehillim gathering at the Kotel prior to the painful commencement of the withdrawal from Gaza. The event was extraordinary because it brought together perhaps 250,000 or even more religious Jews from all sectors. This was not a political event. Thus, I was surprised to read in the latest Yated Ne’eman (the U.S. edition) that the gathering was “futile” and “fruitless.” Such language which echoes the slant taken by Haaretz and other secularists is shocking when it comes from a newspaper that is rooted in the yeshiva world.

When we daven or say tehillim, even when the focus is on a particular individual or set of circumstances, what we are doing is strengthening our emunah, thereby bringing us closer to G-D and to an acceptance of what He has decreed. The person on whose behalf we are praying or the circumstance that we have in mind serves no more than as the instrumentality for the strengthening of our belief, in much the same way that when we give tzedakah to a poor person, the recipient is no more than the instrumentality for perfecting ourselves by accepting limitations and discipline in how we use the resources that we have been blessed with.

Tehillim and Tefila are never futile. We all understand this in the frequent situation when a sick person on whose behalf we are praying passes away. We do not say that our prayers were fruitless or futile. Accordingly, Yated’s characterization which as I have noted parallels the sneering characterization from the secularists is shocking and unacceptable. It is an affront to those who participated in the great gathering, it is an affront to hashkafa and it is an affront to all Torah observant Jews.

The newspaper compounded its wrongdoing when after a close relative of mine sent an email questioning its usage, the editor responded that the gathering at the Kotel was a political event. This, too, parallels what Haaretz and the secularists have said.

The title of this post is intended to ask a question, not to provide the answer. I am in Israel for most of the summer and this is an extraordinarily painful time for many, specifically those who identify with Dati Leumi. The obvious reason is the Gaza withdrawal.

Although my affiliation is essentially in the charedi sector, notably the yeshiva world, I have long regarded the Dati Leumi people with whom I have contact as individuals blessed with the highest ideals and values, people who exemplify true Torah modesty and who are extraordinarily sincere and careful in their devotion to mitzvos.

It seems to me that the charedi world, at least in Israel, is uncaring about the open wounds being experienced by many Dati Leumi. Is this deliberate? Or perhaps, it is simply that charedim have other interests and problems.

Again, I am just asking a question.

When the Supreme Court cut the constitutional baby in half and ruled that some Ten Commandment displays are kosher and some are not, the spokesman for the Orthodox Union warmly welcomed the development. Good public relations, but bad Judaism.

What is there to celebrate when four Justices say that any public display of the Ten Commandments violates the First Amendment? What is there to celebrate when in all likelihood, the Supreme Court ruling will mean that most displays will be ruled unconstitutional? What is there to celebrate when we continue to have decisions that are hostile to religion?

I know that the Ten Commandments issue is not per se that important. People do not respect religion because a tablet is installed in a public place. No one’s belief or behavior is affected. As a practical matter it makes small difference whether the Ten Commandments can be posted in a public place.

What concerns me essentially is not what the Supreme Court did but how we as Jews – and particularly Orthodox Jews – look at the matter. Overwhelmingly, American Jews are not only secular, they embrace a brand of secularism that is hostile to religion. This may not be the conscious intent, yet it is what emerges from the totality of our advocacy against religion. This attitude strikes me as risky, both for Israel and American Jewry because it invites counter-hostility from Christian groups.

To an extent kiruv (Jewish outreach) requires a suspension of reality. This is not necessarily a bad thing because from a religious Jewish standpoint, the reality of American life is harsh. The many good people who engage in kiruv blot out circumstances that suggest that their efforts are akin to a steady uphill climb. We should admire them all the more because of what they have accomplished.

As I point out in my latest Jewish Week column, we are in the second generation of mass intermarriage. In most situations, the consequences of intermarriage are not reversible. It is certainly true that the impact of intermarriage is cumulative, so that with the passage of time, halachic ties to the Jewish people are weakened and this is also true of social ties. Put otherwise, with each passing year, the percentage of those who are identified as American Jews who are not halachic Jews inevitably goes up.

Our kiruv activities appear to be oblivious to this truth. Far more than we may realize, kiruv is conducted today much the same as it was conducted a generation ago. For all of the efforts, real or imagined, to restrict kiruv to halachic Jews, the statistics of American Jewish life suggest that this is not possible. I am not suggesting that we abandon kiruv; I am suggesting that we be more cognizant to what is happening.

Interestingly, as we continue to reach out to those who are quite distant from religious life, we continue to do far too little to retain the many of a religious background who are falling away. One possible explanation is that kiruv efforts get more support and are more appreciated than inreach efforts.

The question that forms the title for this posting is from the concluding line of a communication sent to me by an Orthodox Jewish mother whose son cannot get into a Jewish school. He is a teenager whose siblings are in yeshiva. He is not, apparently because he is ADD and there is no Jewish school that will accept him. So he is in a private school outside of New York where just about everyone there is not Jewish and where the atmosphere is warm and promotive of self-esteem.

The mother’s communication is doubtlessly overwrought. But we cannot deny that there is something wrong in our schools. Too many children are turned away, too many children are sent away. The explanations are many and, at times, they ring true. Far more often than not, they come from people in authority who do not care enough, people who for all of their religious credentials do not adequately sense the pain of parents and children, people who do not understand that Torah chinuch must embrace and not turn away.

We are a people who ask all kinds of halachic questions, too many of them trivial pursuits that take precious time away from Torah leaders. Rav Moshe Feinstein, ztl, said frequently that for all of the questions that he was asked – and they probably were in the tens of thousands – few concerned chinuch situations.

When a child’s presence in a class has a deleterious effect on his classmates, there is justification for removing the child, although even in such situations it is necessary to have process and not to have a single person – usually the principal – make the decision. The fact is that we tolerate arrangements where one person, at times in the blink of an eye, decides alone who is admitted and who is not, who can remain and who will be expelled. Far too often children are literally thrown out of yeshiva because of the most minor transgressions or, perhaps worse yet, because there may have been a minor transgression.

I imagine that most of us know Americans who made aliyah and settled in Beit Shemesh. These are in the main people who can be characterized as Leumi Dati, with a bit of charedi instinct thrown in. They are men and women with wonderful values, good midos, sincere religiosity and a love for Israel and the Jewish people. They are certainly among the best that we have.

When the first English speaking olim came to Beit Shemesh or actually Ramat Beit Shemesh, they encountered a fair amount of difficulty. As I recall, there were many burglaries and there was tension between the newcomers and the poorer Israelis, mostly Sephardim. After the initial period of adjustment, relations improved and the newcomers went about their jobs and their important contributions to the Jewish State.

As Ramat Beit Shemesh grew, there were sections that were occupied by charedim, mostly Chassidic families coming from other parts of Israel. There have been a number of incidents involving attempted intimidation by charedim of the Anglos and the situation has worsened considerably in the past year. On Yom Ha-Atzmaut, there was an event for school girls, a number of adult charedim pelted the girls with eggs for the sin of celebrating Yom Ha-Atzmaut. This has had a traumatic effect on the children, some of whom are questioning whether a religious path is for them, and it has been traumatic – in conjunction with other incidents – for the English-speaking residents. I have been told of one meeting in which some of these residents discussed the question of whether they should move away.

I have heard about this from a Beit Shemesh resident who is as sweet a person as one can imagine. He is worried about the impact on his daughter and he is worried about the impact on how he looks at the charedi community. What happened on Yom Ha-Atzmaut has for him “burst the bubble,” and tainted how he looks at the community and other Jews.

[The following is from the Iyar/May RJJ Newsletter. It has elicited a considerable response, including the suggestion that it receive wider circulation and that is the reason why I am posting it.]

It has been evident for many years that if somehow Rebbi Akiva and Rebbi Eliezer were transplanted into contemporary religious Jewish life at the time that they were beginning their study of Torah, it is highly unlikely that they would be admitted to our best yeshivas. They would be sent to a kiruv school or perhaps one of the weak day schools that dot our communal landscape. Only after they were thoroughly cleansed of the baneful effects of bad parentage and background might they be accepted by our strongest schools.

It is also true that children of many Talmudic sages and Torah scholars of subsequent generations, including the recent period, would also be turned away from some yeshivas and Beth Jacobs. Although these parents were transcendent scholars and spiritual giants, alas they had the serious defect of earning their livelihood outside of the four cubits of Torah, perhaps by being in business or a professional or working for government or a private employer. There are mosdos at the elementary school level in Israel and now in this country that will not accept children from such homes, presumably to protect those who are admitted from harmful influences.

Whatever the explanation, this is madness, an example of the spreading sickness known as extreme frumkeit. It is said that children with working fathers live in more affluent homes, have nicer clothing, tend to show off, or that their appearance makes other children feel inferior, etc. This is inaccurate on several grounds, most notably the obvious fact that at least in this country, a majority of yeshiva-world families with a working father struggle to make ends meet. The more likely explanation is that schools with an exclusionary policy seek to proclaim that they are better because their students come from pure Torah homes.

The current issue of Yated Ne’Eman (U.S. edition) has a letter from a fellow who extols the trips that were available during Chol Hamoed. He writes: “It comforted me that we were surrounded by Yidden only, and were not exposed to the hashpa’ah of some of the parks and sites that were not open exclusive to Yidden on Chol Hamoed. Next year, may we be in Yerushalyim Ir Hakodesh.”

(I will not dwell on the inadvertently mistaken reference to Jerusalem. Alas, if the letter writer were there during Pesach and went to the places frequented by charedim – as a notable example, the Zoo – he will for sure encounter a significant number of people who are not Jewish. I hope that he does not decide against going to Israel on this ground.)

It is understandable that people want to be together with those who whom they are comfortable, whether the other people are friends or colleagues or of the same age group or the same ethnic group. This is an acceptable and far-reaching social phenomenon. If an Orthodox Jew wants to go to an event or a place where the other people are Orthodox, that too is certainly acceptable. I believe that the message conveyed in the letter to Yated is not acceptable because essentially it speaks not of wanting to be together with one’s own but not wanting to be with people who are inferior. Putting aside the relevant question as to whether such a position is legally defensible, I believe that it is despicable.

We have been on these shores for approximately two generations. We have benefited from the blessings of liberty, from the ideal of tolerance. Do we expect that others will respect us if we can’t show a modicum of respect toward them? I am increasingly pessimistic about what is happening in much of Orthodox life. I do not want to develop this theme, except to say that dislike of others is a dynamic force. What will be in another two generations?

Writing is not the only thing that I do, nor is it the main thing that I do. I suppose that much the same can be said about most writers, but there is a difference – I think – in my situation. My primary responsibility is active involvement in Jewish communal life, notably in yeshiva and day school education but in other areas, as well. There’s no reason to describe this activity because it has scant bearing on what I am writing here, except for the important zone of my life that is called the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School.

I have been president of RJJ – and this is a voluntary responsibility – for thirty-two years and for much of this period the yeshiva and its several schools have taken the lion’s share of my time. Because fundraising is inherent to this job, what I write and especially in the Jewish Week may have an impact on my ability to do what I have to do. My writing is opinion-oriented, at times sharply. I haven’t found this a problem with much of what I have to say, even in such hot button areas that might offend the non-Orthodox and even though some of the funds that I raise come from people who aren’t Orthodox.

The problem that I am attempting to address here is most pronounced when I write about Israel and therefore it is most pronounced in terms of my interaction with other Orthodox. I am a strong believer in Israel’s withdrawal from Gaza, something that most Orthodox Jews oppose. There is scant evidence that my advocacy of Gaza withdrawal has resulted in anyone saying the heck with my contribution to RJJ. But I cannot be sure. I am certain that something that I wrote some months ago sharply criticizing those who excused Baruch Goldstein’s murderous attack in Hebron has directly resulted in at least several people deciding that they will no longer contribute to the yeshiva.

Is this an issue for me to consider? Does my responsibility toward RJJ carry with it the obligation not to speak out when there is a prospect that speaking out might hurt the school? Is this a practical question? Or a moral question? Or both?

There are good reasons why so many religious Jews – and the number is growing – go to hotels for Pesach. Some have too few people around the table to make a seder, while others have too many. There are the elderly and frail who cannot cope and there are the families with working mothers who do not have the energy or time to prepare properly for Yom Tov. For many, this is the only or primary vacation. Affluence is obviously a factor, if only because it is costly to go to a hotel and there are religious Jews who can afford the cost. Affluence also has meant larger homes and this means more space to clean and supervise and this factor also contributes to the exodus.

But for all of the good reasons why so many go away, this is a stunning phenomenon that departs by nearly 180 degrees from what had been standard practice among Orthodox Jews. In my youth and well into adulthood, there was the simple precept that during Pesach “mir mishich nisht,” which as a practical matter meant that people ate in their own homes and in no one else’s, except perhaps for the last day of the holiday. This certainly was the rule in pre-churban Europe.

Even if we acknowledge that there are those who need to or should go away, what has happened is unsettling. In the aggregate, the Pesach-in-hotel phenomenon costs in the tens of millions of dollars, perhaps above $100 million. There are people who go away and who are generous in giving tzedakah. It remains, however, that our charity has not kept pace with our self-indulgence. I know more than a few people who give next to nothing in tzedakah and yet who splurge on the Pesach trip.

As others have noted, there are children who have never seen how a house is prepared for Pesach or how to prepare for a seder. Not all, but most, experience a quickie seder, at least in the v’higadta l’vincha portion ["and you shall tell it to your children"], with the meal constituting by far the major event. It is nice, in a way, that some families stay home for the first two days and then leave for a hotel.

Except for one point, I will not respond to comments on my previous posting “Have We Become Right-Wingers?” The exception is the attitude of Orthodox Jews to persons who are not Jewish. This is an issue that I feel strongly about, as the following note indicates. I have published it twice before, initially in the RJJ Newsletter and then in the Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society that is published by the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School. While I received many comments — including from persons within the yeshiva world — no one indicated disagreement with the position that I took. Here is the note:

A noted Harvard University professor who is a committed Jew recently told of a student from an Orthodox home and strong day school background who had abandoned religious life because his experience at Harvard showed him the falsehood of what he had been taught about Gentiles.

Likely, there’s more — perhaps much more — to this young man’s story and journey. Doubtlessly, other factors were at work. Yet, what strikes as too close to home is the reference to derogatory remarks about non-Jews, the sort of gratuitous and nasty fare that is all too common in our religious life and our schools. Such remarks have become part of our vernacular. I have heard far too much inappropriate talk, specifically including by people who declaim readily about shmiras halashon, of the need to be careful in speech.

It is lamentable that we have to stress the obvious principle that no individual or group is elevated by putting down other people. Groups and individuals are elevated by what they do, not by the behavior of others. For Jews, the concept of chosenness arises only out of our living sanctified lives in accordance with the Torah’s commandments. When we speak pejoratively of Gentiles, we may in a sense diminish them, but for sure in the process we are diminishing ourselves.

I understand why many, perhaps most, Orthodox Jews have come to reject liberal positions on a number of public issues. In some instances, such as abortion, there is conflict between what halacha requires and what is essentially being embraced by people of a liberal orientation. More generally, there is disagreement over the role of religion in society, particularly in what is referred to as the public square. Finally, there is that nebulous term called �values� which was a feature of the recent presidential election and subsequent political analysis.

But if Orthodox Jews reject liberalism, does this mean that we need to or should reject liberal policies on a number of public and social issues where there are no clear halachic requirements? As an illustration, are we to reject what liberals advocate regarding a minimum wage? I don�t know a single Orthodox Jew who can make do on what is now the minimum wage. What about racism? Or the environment which encompasses a number of increasingly frightening concerns? I could readily give other examples.

And even if we are not comfortable with anything espoused by liberals, shouldn�t it be sufficient � and probably religiously correct � to eschew all ideologies? Yet, it is evident that a great number of Orthodox Jews are comfortable with the right-wing. They agree with the right-wing on gun control. What is emerging is an increasingly expanding comfort zone between Orthodox Jews and right-wingers. Are we forgetful of history? Do we delude ourselves and forget that those on the right include far too many who have articulated anti-Semitic views? Are we forgetful of what Jews experienced for centuries at the hands of devout Christians?

I am not advocating that we come out against the right or become liberals. I am advocating that we be true to Judaism and recognize that halacha is our guide, not any political ideology.

On March 4, 2005 Agudath Israel sent a letter to Dr. Tom Frieden, New York City’s Health Commissioner, estimating that in the yeshiva world half of the brisim have been conducted with matzitza b’peh, while the other half have utilized a tube. In Modern Orthodox and even Centrist Orthodox circles, overwhelmingly the brisim have been with a tube.

The statistics cast a certain light on the issue that is now raging in certain Orthodox circles. I am not concerned here at all with what a particular Rabbi or Mohel may have done or said. What I am concerned about are the statements signed by dozens of Roshei Yeshiva and Rabbonim and published in Yated Ne’eman and on public posters denouncing the failure to do matzitza b’peh. The language is nearly violent.

Are we being told that half the brisim in the yeshiva world were not properly conducted? Are the signers of these statements unaware of the fact that, for example, the Breuer’s community does not sanction matzitza b’peh? Isn’t it likely that virtually all the signers have been at brisim where a tube is used? Isn�t it likely that some of the signers served as the sandek or some other important function at brisim where tubes were used?

The issue of safeguards against the transmission of disease is not a trivial matter. Of course, I feel strongly that those who prefer matzitza b’peh should be allowed to go forward without government interference. But we must be cognizant of the reality that there are now powerful viruses that are transmitted through what seems to be quite innocuous contact. When we go into food establishments, we see workers wearing latex gloves. Are they wearing them because they want to help the latex glove industry? In hospitals and medical offices, there is scarcely a procedure anymore without such gloves being worn. Obviously, there are legitimate concerns that have generated changing practices. At the least, we need to be cognizant that those who prefer to use a tube in a bris have good grounds for this preference.

I am acceding to the request that I post this week�s column which deals with the claim by Jack Ukeles that 75% of Orthodox households are Modern Orthodox. If there are comments, they should be emailed to me at mschick@mindspring.com.

More Fiction Posing as Fact

When novelists create stereotypical figures that distort Orthodox life, they claim that, after all, they�re novelists who can write as they please. Academics and others who purport to describe the real religious Jewish world do not have this fig leaf to shield them when they are criticized because what they write is off the mark. It is hard to imagine any greater distortion of Orthodox reality than the pseudo-scholarship palmed off by Jacob Ukeles at the annual gathering of Edah, the ultra-Modern Orthodox fringe group.

Jewish survey research is in a sorry state. We have been presented dubious findings regarding Jews in the Former Soviet Union, American Jewish poverty and the impact of Israel experiences on Jewish identity. A top Jewish demographer told me that he once distorted data in order to achieve a desired result. We are increasingly subjected to numbers games impelled by ideology or some other pre-selected goal, in much the same way that pharmaceutical companies advertise that so many doctors prefer their product.

Lay leadership or askanos is a term that can be translated as the nearly all-consuming commitment to communal activity. An askan is someone whose primary life mission is service to the klal. In my youth, these terms – askanos and askan – were part of the ordinary religious Jewish lexicon. But no more. What has changed is more than usage, but the role of lay people in communal affairs.

Nowadays, we glorify check-writers and, at times, persons who devote themselves occasionally to good causes. We do not celebrate askanim because the breed is nearly extinct. There is, of course, merit to giving tzedakah or to spending a bit of time here and there on community needs. Unfortunately, our institutions and especially yeshivas and day schools require more. They need the involvement of lay people who eat, drink and sleep the needs of the community, people for whom other work is secondary.

The nature of communal activity has changed because our community has changed. Most of us are always busy. Family size has grown significantly and this inevitably brings additional responsibilities and time pressure. There are too many events to go to and too many tasks to get to. Nearly every day is a balancing act, a challenge to squeeze in more activity than we have time for. Mothers, so many of whom work, must find the time and energy to devote to their children and fathers want to find time for Torah study. Were it not for Shabbos, we would all be lost.

There is yet another factor. We do not value askanos, certainly not like we once did and certainly not to the extent that we value check-writing. What isn’t highly valued does not attract. Apart from the good reasons why our schools (and other causes) put so much effort into fundraising and the wooing of check-writers, there is an attitude that the notion of lay leadership is something like an alien belief. For things large and small, including matters that are not halachic or hashkafic, the attitude is that Torah leaders alone can decide and the rest of us should be followers and workers, but not leaders.

The comments on my previous posting taking Edah, Ukeles and Heilman to task have been mostly critical. While there is always the possibility that those who are in agreement with me are silent, in the main my critics have made some good points and I hope that it will be useful for me to respond, in the course of which I will say some personal things about my work.

In one way or another, much of what I do involves day schools, including those that are Modern Orthodox or non-Orthodox. I approach each school in an empathetic way. Without going into all of the details, what has emerged from my activity is a nearly lifelong record of assisting Jewish schools around the country.

Perhaps the major expression of my efforts in the day school field is my work as president of the Rabbi Jacob Joseph School, a voluntary responsibility that is now in its thirty-second year. RJJ now encompasses four schools, including the Jewish Foundation School of Staten Island, a Modern Orthodox co-educational day school. This relationship came about because some years ago JFS ran into severe financial difficulty, owing nearly $1.5 million in short-term debt and it was at the brink of collapse. RJJ assumed all of this debt and maintained JFS as it was, because I could not accept the notion that a day school with 400 students would close. This action hurt RJJ enormously and we have never recovered from it because in addition to the direct financial cost, certain supporters could not accept what we had done inasmuch as it was contrary to RJJ�s approach to chinuch and they walked away.

About Edah, which incidentally I helped get a significant grant for a project that it did not handle well and therefore was not continued, I am offended by its slogan. The message that it takes courage to be modern and Orthodox is not only not true, it is deliberately aimed as a taunt to the rest of the Orthodox community. As the programs at its conferences show, Edah is far more comfortable with speakers from the non-Orthodox world than it is inviting persons from other Orthodox sectors. I have a particular grievance relating to the place that day school education is given each year in the program. Not once has Edah invited persons who are responsible for day school education or those who have researched and written on the subject. Its attitude toward day school education is overwhelmingly ideological, namely an attack against what it regards as pernicious charedi influences in day schools. There is hardly any empathy for those who teach in these schools, at low salaries and with great sacrifice. These teachers are made to feel as exploiters of the young. This from an organization that preaches tolerance.