The scene: the Kotel Maaravi, or “Western Wall” in Jerusalem. The time: some future point, may it never arrive, when Anat Hoffman’s vision of the holy place has been realized.

Ms. Hoffman, of course, is the famously melodramatic chairwoman of the feminist group “Women of the Wall,” who has orchestrated countless demonstrations (with adoring media and bevy of cameras in tow) in the form of untraditional prayer services at the holy site; who has reveled in being arrested for her provocations by Israeli police; and who is celebrated by temple clubs and coffee klatches across the United States as the Jewish reincarnation of Rosa Parks. She recently told a Jewish newspaper in California that the Wall should become, in effect, a timeshare. “For six hours a day,” she explained, “the Wall will be a national monument, open to others but not to Orthodox men.”

Those “others,” in Chairman Hoffman’s hope, will presumably include not only the group she leads (and which she characterizes as ... Read More >>]]> I really must avoid spicy foods – even my wife’s scrumptious jalapeno pepper-laced cornbread – before retiring at night. The recipe’s great, but for someone approaching 60, it’s a recipe, too, for indigestion-fueled nightmares.

The scene: the Kotel Maaravi, or “Western Wall” in Jerusalem. The time: some future point, may it never arrive, when Anat Hoffman’s vision of the holy place has been realized.

Ms. Hoffman, of course, is the famously melodramatic chairwoman of the feminist group “Women of the Wall,” who has orchestrated countless demonstrations (with adoring media and bevy of cameras in tow) in the form of untraditional prayer services at the holy site; who has reveled in being arrested for her provocations by Israeli police; and who is celebrated by temple clubs and coffee klatches across the United States as the Jewish reincarnation of Rosa Parks. She recently told a Jewish newspaper in California that the Wall should become, in effect, a timeshare. “For six hours a day,” she explained, “the Wall will be a national monument, open to others but not to Orthodox men.”

Those “others,” in Chairman Hoffman’s hope, will presumably include not only the group she leads (and which she characterizes as praying in a halachic manner, although she is personally a Reform Jew) but any group seeking solace under the sheltering umbrella of “pluralism.”

Ms. Hoffman also serves as the executive director of the Reform group the Israel Religious Action Center, which laments the fact that “Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, Renewal, Humanistic, and secular Jews have no representation on the council overseeing the operations of the holy site” and declares that the current single standard there “must be changed.”

That’s what apparently fueled my nightmare. In it, the timeshare model had apparently been found too cumbersome. Each of the various groups laying claim to a “piece of the wall” wanted to express themselves without any time limit; and so a geographical solution to the pluralism problem had been instituted. The Kotel had been Balkanized.

One crowded sliver of the plaza continued to be a place of traditional Orthodox worship, men on one side of a partition, women on the other, everyone welcome. But the area had been severely truncated, to make room for the others.

Nearby, the Reform service, comprised mostly of women in colorful talleitot and kippot, featured a folk guitarist and her choir. (The Orthodox men next-door had resorted to earplugs.)

The Conservative service turnout was sparse, and most of those in attendance were on the far side of middle-age.

The Reconstructionist area was empty, but a sign designated its identity.
The Renewal spot was populated by various small groups of people, some quietly meditating in the lotus position, others dancing in a circle and others still seemingly lost in a daze of unknown provenance.

The Humanistic Kotel-space harbored a small band of people chanting “Hear O Israel, Humanity is holy, Humanity is One.”

There were other successful applicants for Kotel space too. Over toward the end of what had once been the common plaza, was a Jewish animal rights group holding a “blessing of the pets” ceremony, which was followed by a noisy “bark mitzvah” celebration for a pug wearing a kippah. And at the very end of the site were the Jewish Vegetarians of America, waving ceremonial stalks of celery.

At the other end of the pluralized plaza was the Jewish Global Warmist Alliance. Its members were sitting on the ground, wrapped in sackcloth and singing dirges from the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change.

At the back of the plaza, protesting the fact that they hadn’t yet been awarded a space of their own, were members of a “Hebrew-Christian” group, in Jewish religious garb of their own.

I woke up then, thankfully. But not before I sensed a deeper, ethereal moaning, inaudible to human ears but causing the very universe to shudder, emanating from the other side of the Wall.

© 2013 Rabbi Avi Shafran

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“If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years,” Emerson mused, “how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of G-d which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.”

Rav Dessler, who wrote poetry too but was above all a keenly incisive philosophical thinker, explains that there really is no inherent difference between nature and what we call the miraculous. We simply use the word “nature” for the miracles to which we are accustomed, and “miracles” for those we haven’t previously experienced. All there is, in the end, is G-d’s will.

That we are inured to the magnificence of the stars in the sky is unfortunate. We city dwellers can still capture some of the grandeur of Emerson’s “city of G-d” if we journey to less light-polluted places. I recall the shock I felt as a young ... Read More >>]]> The thought, a staple in the writings of the celebrated Jewish thinker Rabbi E. E. Dessler (1892-1953), is best known to people unfamiliar with his thought and writings from a famous and evocative paragraph written by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

“If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years,” Emerson mused, “how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of G-d which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.”

Rav Dessler, who wrote poetry too but was above all a keenly incisive philosophical thinker, explains that there really is no inherent difference between nature and what we call the miraculous. We simply use the word “nature” for the miracles to which we are accustomed, and “miracles” for those we haven’t previously experienced. All there is, in the end, is G-d’s will.

That we are inured to the magnificence of the stars in the sky is unfortunate. We city dwellers can still capture some of the grandeur of Emerson’s “city of G-d” if we journey to less light-polluted places. I recall the shock I felt as a young man driving with some friends through West Virginia on a cross-country trek and suddenly seeing, for the first time in my life, the Milky Way. It was a moonless night and the river of white across the sky so struck us we stopped the car and got out to gape at the splendor.

It’s important, though, to try to capture some of the miraculous in the mundane wherever we are and whatever we are surveying. The short Jewish prayer on awakening – “I am thankful before You, living, everlasting King, that You have mercifully returned my soul to me…” – sets the day’s stage for acknowledging the Divine gifts we are daily given. That our sleep was not permanent, yes, but also that our hearts have been beating all the while, and our lungs filling and emptying; that arms and legs do our bidding, that the food we eat nourishes us and allows us to live, to think, to do…

But human nature makes it hard to be filled with gratitude at the sight of the rising sun, much as we should be.

And so it’s a special occasion when we are able to see something in nature that reminds us of Rav Dessler’s nature-equals-miracle equation. And one such occasion is near, at least for those of us in the northeast of the United States.

The more perceptive among us might notice in coming days small holes appearing in the ground. And the least perceptive will find it impossible to not notice what will quickly follow: billions of large dark blue insects with strikingly red eyes and beautiful lacy, orange-veined, nearly transparent wings. People who are not blessed with the miracle of vision will know of the sudden visitors through the miracle of hearing. The noise that large numbers of Magicicada septendecim generate en masse can be overwhelming.

As another poet, born Robert Zimmerman, put it, “And the locusts sang, yeah, it gave me a chill.”

What will allow us, if we’re sufficiently sensitive, to see the upcoming “natural” happening not as an infestation but an inspiration will be the knowledge that the members of “Brood II,” the cicada group soon to emerge, emerge only every 17 years.

Although they are commonly called “locusts,” cicadas are not biologically related to locusts (which we Westerners call “grasshoppers”). But they are impressive creatures, ferocious-looking but entirely harmless to humans and animals (who readily feast on them).

After the insects mate and the females among them lay their eggs, they quickly die. The nymphs that will emerge from the eggs several weeks later will then burrow into the ground, to make their own grand entrance, G-d willing (meant most pointedly) in 2030.

No one really knows why the cicadas spend so much time waiting to emerge, and how they “know” when 17 years have elapsed. John Cooley, a research scientist at the University of Connecticut who has been studying Magicicada septendecim since the early 1990s, was asked about the 17-year wait.

“Man,” he responded, “I wish I knew.”

No doubt science will eventually provide a good hypothesis or two for the marvel. But anyone who wants to experience the frisson born of recognizing the miraculous in the natural, who wants to see the phenomenal in the phenomenon, can just open his ears and eyes to these unlikely envoys of beauty.

And consider, as Mr. Zimmerman did, that “Yeah, the locusts sang, and they were singing for me.”

© 2013 Rabbi Avi Shafran

A “re-run” of a Shavuos-themed essay, about how the holiday might be seen as a celebration of something that contemporary society considers debasing, can be read here.

Subscribers to “An Observant Eye” read last week about an oasis of good will between Muslims and Jews in North Africa, an uncharacteristically charedi-positive piece in Haaretz, “atheist shoes” and America and Israel’s alleged responsibility for a desecration of a revered Muslim’s tomb. And more. Subscriptions can be entered here.

Just as on Rosh Hashanah Hashem wishes to providentially scrutinize Man’s actions…He similarly does so on the day of the giving of the Torah. This, too, points to the Creation of the world; on it, He oversees the running of the world, judging it on the fruit of trees…We have already explained that the fruit are the souls that sprout from Hashem’s Tree. The judgment of Shavuos is on the Torah that was given on that day, from which they were mevatel themselves.

Maybe this should remain a short posting.

This is the tragic saga of the “Women of the Wall,” which portrays itself worldwide as advocating for “women’s rights,” but in Israel is known primarily for dishonoring a Holy Site with political circus – and sowing offense and discord.

They claim to speak for women, but disparage their spirituality. Chair Anat Hoffman referred to traditional prayers at the Wall as “men-only,” discarding those of millions of women annually. Founding member Phyllis Chesler asserted that recognition of their group will “acknowledge women as spiritual and religious beings, capable of non-coerced autonomous, independent, and halachic prayer.” She imagines that traditional women, “forced to obey ultra-misogynist views,” are lacking in all of the above.

But founding and current member Prof. Shulamit Magnus takes the crown. She claims that only women ignorant of Judaism oppose them, and having invented this fact, then declares that ... Read More >>]]> When a “movement” has more media appearances than members, do we notice something amiss? When a group claiming to favor prayer calls for dismantling a place of worship, do we smell smoke? And when leaders of an organization demand “Ahavat Yisrael” and then express outright revulsion for all who oppose their agenda, do we finally penetrate the veneer?

This is the tragic saga of the “Women of the Wall,” which portrays itself worldwide as advocating for “women’s rights,” but in Israel is known primarily for dishonoring a Holy Site with political circus – and sowing offense and discord.

They claim to speak for women, but disparage their spirituality. Chair Anat Hoffman referred to traditional prayers at the Wall as “men-only,” discarding those of millions of women annually. Founding member Phyllis Chesler asserted that recognition of their group will “acknowledge women as spiritual and religious beings, capable of non-coerced autonomous, independent, and halachic prayer.” She imagines that traditional women, “forced to obey ultra-misogynist views,” are lacking in all of the above.

But founding and current member Prof. Shulamit Magnus takes the crown. She claims that only women ignorant of Judaism oppose them, and having invented this fact, then declares that it “speaks volumes about the subjugated place of women in [traditional] society, and about the male structures that construct and control that society with an iron hand.” She describes traditional Judaism as “archaic, alien and repulsive.”

With the exception of their own monthly pilgrimages, the leadership doesn’t seem to find praying at the Wall all that momentous, either. As a leader of the Reform movement in Israel, Hoffman recently proposed dismantling the place of worship in favor of a “national monument” on a daily basis. Reform Rabbis in Israel declared in 1999 that “one should not consider the Western Wall as possessing any sanctity.” Why, then, the brouhaha?

Last week, Anat Hoffman confronted a Knesset Committee wearing a Tallit, and a Likud MK had a moment of comprehension. “This is not an Halachic argument,” he said. “It is about hegemony. They are trying to take over.” Hoffman made this explicit in an interview with the BBC: she wants to fragment Judaism in the Jewish state, and is using a place of worship for political theater.

In “secular” Tel Aviv there are over 550 traditional (what Americans might call “Orthodox”) synagogues with daily prayers, and one Reform Temple open only on Shabbat. The movement has scant footing in Israel, and Hoffman hopes to use this as a wedge issue to shore up support. Sadly, she seems to care little for the alienation she causes among Jews who needlessly fear their rights might be ignored in the Jewish state.

After all of the tumult and press coverage, and despite a board and staff of ten, only around 50 people go to the Wall itself on a monthly basis. Most women respect the sanctity and tradition practiced at the Wall for millennia, and are not interested in offending others in a place of worship.

Recently some of the heretofore silent majority launched a new group, striving to preserve the Kotel as the one place on earth where Jews of all persuasions pray peacefully, side by side. They are the Women For the Wall, and it is they who deserve our support and admiration.

This week the Jewish world will celebrate the 46th anniversary of the liberation and reunification of Jerusalem in the Six Day War. This miraculous event restored unity to the city that symbolizes Jewish unity, described by the Psalmist as “the city that is united together” (Psalm 122). In fact, King David only established Jerusalem as Israel’s capital after mending the divisions within the Jewish People and gaining their unified support (Samuel II, chapter 5). As such, and with keen awareness of all that continues to divide our People – especially in Yerushalayim – I would like to share three quotes from Rav Avraham Yitzchak haKohein Kook, first Chief Rabbi of Palestine. The quotes present a concept and a strategy of Jewish unity.

The Concept The quote below comes from Rav Kook’s “Ayn Ayoh” commentary to the Aggadaic passages in TB Berachos (64a), and is also found in his “Siddur Olat Riyah” (quote translated by Chanan Morrison). It presents a concept of peace and unity that clearly guided Rav Kook’s communal thinking and activities.

“Rabbi Elazar said in the name of Rabbi Haninah: Torah scholars increase peace in the world. As it says, “All of Your children ... Read More >>]]> by Moshe Hauer

This week the Jewish world will celebrate the 46th anniversary of the liberation and reunification of Jerusalem in the Six Day War. This miraculous event restored unity to the city that symbolizes Jewish unity, described by the Psalmist as “the city that is united together” (Psalm 122). In fact, King David only established Jerusalem as Israel’s capital after mending the divisions within the Jewish People and gaining their unified support (Samuel II, chapter 5). As such, and with keen awareness of all that continues to divide our People – especially in Yerushalayim – I would like to share three quotes from Rav Avraham Yitzchak haKohein Kook, first Chief Rabbi of Palestine. The quotes present a concept and a strategy of Jewish unity.

The Concept
The quote below comes from Rav Kook’s “Ayn Ayoh” commentary to the Aggadaic passages in TB Berachos (64a), and is also found in his “Siddur Olat Riyah” (quote translated by Chanan Morrison). It presents a concept of peace and unity that clearly guided Rav Kook’s communal thinking and activities.

“Rabbi Elazar said in the name of Rabbi Haninah: Torah scholars increase peace in the world. As it says, “All of Your children are students of God; great is the peace of Your children” (Isaiah 54:13). Read this not as “banayich” — ‘Your children’ — but rather “bonayich” — ‘Your builders’.” (Berachot 64a)
Considering the vast number of disagreements and differences of opinion among Torah scholars, Rabbi Haninah’s statement seems, well, counterintuitive. Do scholars really increase peace in the world? And why did Rabbi Haninah insist that they are ‘builders’? What does this tell us about scholars and peace?
People mistakenly believe that peace in the world means that everyone will share common viewpoints and think the same way. So when they see scholars disagreeing about an issue, this appears to be the exact opposite of peace.

True peace, however, comes precisely through the proliferation of divergent views. When all of the various angles and sides of an issue are exposed, and we are able to clarify how each one has its place — that is true peace. The Hebrew word ‘Shalom’ means both ‘peace’ and ‘completeness.’ We will only attain complete knowledge when we are able to accommodate all views — even those that appear contradictory – as partial perceptions of the whole truth. Like an interlocking puzzle, together they present a complete picture.

For this reason, Rabbi Haninah emphasized that scholars are like builders. A building is erected from all sides, using a variety of materials and skills. So too, the whole truth is constructed from diverse views, opinions and methods of analysis.

This concept of constructive peace underlies the value Rav Kook placed on the secular efforts to build the State, and inspired his readiness to build upon those efforts. While others could not see themselves partnering with secular Zionists in any way, Rav Kook saw them as providing a critical aspect of the national rebuilding that is to be worked with, in the way of true Torah scholars:

When the world of the faithful and the true critiques the Zionist movement, it is not a negating critique, meaning that it does not consider the movement without positive value, that it is something absolutely negative. Rather it is a constructive critique, proposing that Zionism must be raised even higher, must be dramatically elevated,
because in its current form only a small part of true Jewish life is visible within it, and even less of the holy force that ought to be present in an endeavor as critical as this that truly represents the nation as a whole, together with all the generations past and with its ultimate destiny.
This force in its truest form will not be found in the secular cultural world, when it alone is engaged in the work of nation building. For this purpose diplomatic and literary skills – as well as other gifts of modernity and of humanity – are insufficient even in their most polished forms. They are however wonderful things and serve us well as means to an end, and utilized properly they will serve as excellent tools for the movement to restore the Jewish soul of the nation in its fullest expression…. (Letters, no. 888)

The Strategy

Finally, this concept of unity was the basis for Rav Kook’s strategy for constructively building the Jewish future, expressed most clearly in this letter to a colleague, a leader in the Mizrachi movement.

My dear friend,
I will rely on the words of our holy sages who say, “Any love which does not include rebuke is not love.” And therefore, because of our close friendship, I find myself obligated to come to you with this rebuke.
It has come to my attention that in a speech which you gave … you spoke very negatively about the holy institution Shaarei Torah and you disparaged its Torah scholars and its students. I literally trembled when I heard this, and if not for the fact that I heard it from someone who is completely trustworthy, I would never have believed such a thing about someone as great as yourself.

My friend, this is not the way – to tear down with your hands our holy institutions, our treasure houses of life. It is possible [as you have suggested] that our times require us to create schools that teach secular subjects, so that our generation will be drawn to attend them, provided of course that they are imbued with the spirit of the Torah. However, how terrible it would be if because of this we would attack our existing institutions – our living and enduring holy treasure houses. I myself have on more than one occasion assessed the students of Shaarei Torah and I will testify that [it will help us] establish a generation of G-d fearing Torah scholars, filled with a love of Torah and fear of Heaven…. And this is specifically because this holy institution has followed the paths laid by the Torah giants of previous generations. … Only through the ancient Beit HaMedrash and those who study there can Torah and light come to Bnei Yisrael. …
Please strengthen yourself in the following idea, that we must only build up and never tear down, to add and never to take away.

I know that you will accept these words with love and good-will, even though they are words of rebuke. And I beg you to be careful in the future from speaking in any way against our holy institutions which are as the sun to us, treasure houses of Torah and fear of heaven, to raise for us holy sheep to give light, … and to see clearly that Torah may come from them in the future.

And if you have any suggestions of any kind, please… (Letters, #570)

How productive it would be if we could adopt this concept of peace, with each “camp” recognizing the substantive contribution of the other and trying to build upon it without devaluing the other or tearing it down. Then we could truly enhance peace in our world.

Rabbi Moshe Hauer is spiritual leader of Bnai Jacob Shaarei Zion Congregation in Baltimore, Maryland, and a member of the Editorial Board of Klal Perspectives.

The psychiatrist asks the new patient what the problem is. “I’m dead,” he confides earnestly, “but my family won’t believe me.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow, thinks a moment, and asks the patient what he knows about dead people. After listing a few things – they don’t breathe, their hearts don’t beat – the patient adds, “and they don’t bleed very much.” At which point the psychiatrist pulls out a blade and runs it against patient’s arm, which begins to bleed, profusely.

The patient is aghast and puzzled. He looks up from his wound at the slyly smiling doctor and concedes, “I guess I was wrong.”

“Dead people,” he continues, “do bleed.”

I interrupted the laughter with the sobering suggestion that it’s not only the emotionally compromised victims of delusions, however, who see the world through their own particular lenses. Most of us do, at least if we have strong convictions. And the yields of those sometimes very different lenses are the stuff of conflict.

My brief presentation took place ... Read More >>]]> It’s a story I tell a lot, since, well, its point comes up a lot. Blessedly, my audience, at least judging from its response, hadn’t heard it before.

The psychiatrist asks the new patient what the problem is. “I’m dead,” he confides earnestly, “but my family won’t believe me.”

The doctor raises an eyebrow, thinks a moment, and asks the patient what he knows about dead people. After listing a few things – they don’t breathe, their hearts don’t beat – the patient adds, “and they don’t bleed very much.” At which point the psychiatrist pulls out a blade and runs it against patient’s arm, which begins to bleed, profusely.

The patient is aghast and puzzled. He looks up from his wound at the slyly smiling doctor and concedes, “I guess I was wrong.”

“Dead people,” he continues, “do bleed.”

I interrupted the laughter with the sobering suggestion that it’s not only the emotionally compromised victims of delusions, however, who see the world through their own particular lenses. Most of us do, at least if we have strong convictions. And the yields of those sometimes very different lenses are the stuff of conflict.

My brief presentation took place on Manhattan’s Upper East Side, as part of an April 23 panel discussion hosted by the 92nd St. Y and Gesher (in partnership with “Israel Talks,” a JCRC-NY initiative). It featured former New York Times Jerusalem bureau chief Ethan Bronner, Gesher CEO Ilan Geal-Dor and me; the discussion was moderated by Professor Ari Goldman of Columbia University. The topic: “Resolving Conflict with Israel’s Ultra-Orthodox Community.”

The point I sought to make with my little story and postscript was that a secular Jew and a religious Jew live in different universes, each providing its own perspective on reality. The first step toward lessening the interpersonal tensions born of those alternate perspectives, I suggested, is simply recognizing that fact. And the second is seeking – if you’re standing, you might want to sit down here – to occupy, if only for a few moments, the mind of the “other.”

That suggestion won’t sit well with those who imagine that all less-observant or non-observant Israelis are hateful, evil people, or with those who look down at the charedi community as a hopelessly backward and useless bunch.

But it’s a vital one for them, and everyone in both communities, to consider. We charedim need to understand that many other Jews have never experienced a truly Jewish life and as a result have come to regard Jewish observance as a mere cultural heritage, and Torah-study as an unproductive vocation. No, not to accept those contentions, G-d forbid, but to understand them, to perceive the roots of the secular disdain for Torah and for those who live and study it – giving us the tools to, at least where it can be done, change misperceptions.

Conversely, though, I continued, non-charedim, like most of the people I was addressing (though I greatly appreciated the presence of a handful of attendees who resembled my wife and me), do themselves a disservice if they don’t “try on” the perspective yielded by charedi convictions. Again, not to succumb to the charedi mindset, just to better understand it.

And so, I touched on several issues. We charedim really believe, I confided, that Torah – its observance and its study – protects the Jewish people. Really.

We really believe, I continued, that what some call an “Orthodox monopoly” in religious matters in Israel is nothing other than an authentically Jewish standard – the only one that can preserve the oneness of Jewish people in the Jewish state. Really.

We really believe that the peaceful spirit of Jewish unity that the Western Wall has evidenced for more than 40 years is threatened by those who want to change the mode of public worship there. Really.

We really believe that traditional Jewish modesty is not misogynistic or prudish but as deeply Jewish an ideal as providing for the poor or caring for the sick. Really.

Do any or all of those beliefs, I asked my listeners, strike you as bizarre? “Of course they do!” I answered on the audience’s behalf. (I read minds.)

“But you know what?” I went on. “The non-charedi takes on security, pluralism, the Kotel and standards of dress are no less bizarre to us.”

The discussion that followed, primed by questions from the moderator and the audience, was an exercise in civility and intellectual give-and-take, particularly noteworthy considering the attempts of late by various parties in the media to bring a host of simmering issues to a boil.

At one point I mused how odd how it is that political conservatives tend to listen almost exclusively to Rush Limbaugh, and liberals, just as religiously, to NPR. It really, I suggested, should be just the opposite. After all, if you’re not listening to your adversary, you’re just listening to yourself.

© 2013 Rabbi Avi Shafran

This essay and others, plus occasional musings of mine (like this), can be read at rabbiavishafran.com .

To see a sample issue of my “An Observant Eye” weekly newsletter, click here.

A review of a new volume of teshuvos would then seem to be out of character for Cross-Currents treatment. It would be that, were it not for their extraordinary author, Rav Asher Weiss, shlit”a. As we shall see, both the scope of his work and the ease with which he addresses the complexities of cutting-edge issues are breaths of fresh air to people who have not given up on a Torah enthusiastically and confidently confronts the world at large.

The personality of the author entirely predicts this work. Rav Weiss is upbeat, optimistic, and accessible. His appeal does not ... Read More >>]]> We routinely turn away contributors of “pure” halacha and hashkafa pieces. Not that our regular contributors undervalue them. To the contrary, I believe that every one of our authors consider pure Torah pieces more valuable than any of our blogging activity. However, we tell ourselves that readers will have no trouble finding a full assortment of quality Torah pieces elsewhere. What we try to do at Cross-Currents is slake the thirst of many – for better or worse – for treatments of applied Torah, or the intersection between Torah thought and the unfolding of events in the world around us.

A review of a new volume of teshuvos would then seem to be out of character for Cross-Currents treatment. It would be that, were it not for their extraordinary author, Rav Asher Weiss, shlit”a. As we shall see, both the scope of his work and the ease with which he addresses the complexities of cutting-edge issues are breaths of fresh air to people who have not given up on a Torah enthusiastically and confidently confronts the world at large.

The personality of the author entirely predicts this work. Rav Weiss is upbeat, optimistic, and accessible. His appeal does not admit to restrictions of loyalty to any subgroup within the Torah world. Although a Kloizenberger chassid from Union City, New Jersey who wears the levush, people with all kinds of headgear – shtreimlach to kipot serugot – flock to his beis medrash. He has traveled once a week for years to give a shiur at the hesder yeshiva in Sderot, to show solidarity with an embattled citizenry. (He also travels to the new location of one of the Gaza communities that was the victim of the disengagement/expulsion.) His memory is either eidetic or close to it; listening to his halacha shiurim with his phenomenal grasp of sources at his fingertips is breathtaking. His seforim on Chumash, offering both halacha and derush, have established a regular presence in shuls and batei Medrash around the world.

He is contemporary and with-it. He is as fully aware of the depth of problems in our community as he is enthused with our strengths. Unlike some others, he is willing to talk about those problems, and quietly address them. He still manages to stay entirely within the mainstream in a pretty punishing neighborhood. (At least one of the teshuvos that I went through was a question referred to him at the request of Rav Elyashiv zt”l.)

It is not surprising that the first printing of this first volume of teshuvos of his reportedly sold out in short order.

I will present here just a sampling of the teshuvos, focusing on those that show his willingness to take positions in relatively virgin territory. In no way should a reader whose curiosity is aroused limit himself to these. There are lots of treats in his teshuvos on older issues as well. (I’m thinking of #14, for example, in which he revisits the old issue of using baby-wipes on Shabbos, and is matir with particular strength.)

He considers whether a member of an emergency services team who arrives first and determines that others need not respond may violate an issur derabanan to alert the others not to unnecessarily violate a d’orayso.) He answers affirmatively.

He takes issue with minimalists who believe that the role of a conversion beis din is entirely passive. Although he does not really offer much back-up for this assessment, he writes that it seems to him that its role is a larger one, at least to the extent that a beis din can decide that it is not in the interests of the community to accept a particular person or group of people as converts. Nonetheless, the reason to turn a potential ger away need to be a strong and compelling one. Where the beis din is concerned only about “external” factors that do not impact on his/her ability to observe the mitzvos, the candidacy should not be spurned.

In a poignant teshuvah with far-reaching social implications, Rav Weiss addresses a tragic case of a gravely ill child with impaired breathing. Physicians wish to do a tracheotomy and insert a breathing tube. The age of the child requires, however, that there be non-stop supervision of the child to ensure that he does not pull out the tube. If the procedure takes place, the parents will either have to stay at the side of the child 24/7, or hire someone else to do so, which they cannot afford. The parents are prepared to forego the procedure, and daven diligently for the best. Rav Weiss reasons that the parents are simply not obligated to provide that kind of round the clock, life transforming care. Nor can they be expected to pony up huge sums of money to hire help to monitor the patient.

Arab workers in the employ of a Jewish contractor (A) drop a beam, which strikes someone’s (B) air-conditioner a few stories below. The unit is damaged, and the warranty voided. B wants compensation; A essentially argues that his claim is against the Arab workers, and good luck! The reaction of many of us would be that the claim is for adam hamazik, and in this case, that would be the Arab workers. Rav Weiss says that it is simply impossible that no one be accountable on a practical level for the damage. Such, he says, would be a miscarriage of justice. Not to mention that the secular law recognizes a liability claim against an employee for damage caused by his workers. In the case at hand, Rav Weiss resorts to an anan sahadi/ legal presumption that neighbors in a condo would not agree to any work done on the property that could leave them no recourse in the case of damage. Therefore, any contractor can be assumed constructively to have agreed to make good for any damage done by his workers.

Heter agunos is hardly a new topic, but his teshuvah about the application of halachic principles to victims of the Japanese tsunami is the first in print that I have seen.

The use of electronic devices on Shabbos is a charged issue, especially in parts of Israel where the Chazon Ish‘s influence looms as large as during his lifetime. It will be recalled that, in contradistinction to earlier poskim who saw different halachic issues in the use of electricity, the CI spoke of an issue of boneh. He believed that the very creation of a circuit breathed life and purpose into the wiring created for the very purpose of hosting the introduction of an electric charge. This framework worked well to limit the use of virtually all electric appliances on Shabbos for decades.

More recently, however, a large number of devices have become common that simply do not fit into the paradigm described by the CI. They are designed to turn on and off faster than the eye can see. In fact, the eye sees nothing of the changes that occur within microchips and leaving no perceptible tracks. Do these devices fit into the conceptual framework of the Chazon Ish’s conjecture? (A recent example that raised halachic eyebrows was the installation of digital water meters in Yerushalayim that report usage in real time, transmitting the information wirelessly to collection points. Will residents of Yerushalayim have to desist from using water taps on Shabbos?)

Rav Weiss deals with GenX,Y and Z devices in three consecutive responsa. In the first, he rejects any suggestion that LED displays be considered more leniently than first-generation incandescent devices. In the second, he rejects the suggestion that devices that don’t fit the CI paradigm may be permissible. In both, he speaks quite harshly about using the CI leniently. He points out that the use of electricity was fully accepted as impermissible well before the CI, for reasons advanced by the Beis Yitzchok and the Achiezer. He dismisses multiple teshuvos of Sephardic poskim of many decades ago regarding electricity on Yom Tov, finding that they all misunderstood the nature of electricity. Moreover, he promotes his own, new argument for the impermissibility of all electric devices, based on a Yerushalmi. (According to Rav Weiss, the Yerushalmi holds – followed by Rambam – that any important accomplishment of purpose has to be melachah, even if it does not seem to fall into one of the categories in Perek Klal Gadol. It will perforce be subsumed by the melachah of makeh bepatish.)

Having arrived at this point an apparent hard-liner against electicity on Shabbos, the third teshuvah charges in from left field. In it, Rav Weiss considers a laundry list of devices that involve digital change, but are not intended to do so by the user. Must a patient in an ICU be careful not to needlessly move around in bed, because his monitoring devices are so sensitive as to respond to his every motion, and transmit data. Must a person sentenced to house arrest and wearing a digital leg bracelet be careful not to move, because a GPS device sends information to the authorities? Can one use the new generation of hearing aids? How do we deal with motion sensors in hotel rooms?

In all of these cases, Rav Weiss opines permissively. The changes that come about cannot be part of an issur because they 1) are unobservable and imperceptible, while at the same time are 2) completely unintended by the person causing them. I wait with bated breath to learn how far-reaching this leniency will prove to be, and who, if any, will rise to challenge the line of reasoning.

One passage that caught my eye will resonate with people who have spent time with the sugya of davar she-eino miskaven and psik reisha, or unintended consequences of intended acts. A psik reisha is something that is predictably certain (or very close to certain according to some) to occur. A consequence of some action that might or might not occur is only a davar she-eino miskaven. The drift of the gemara is pretty clear: the latter is permitted, while the former is forbidden. But does this distinction about predictability accord with the way most of us understand the world?

Here is how R Asher Weiss looks at it:

According to scientific analysis, the concept of “davar she-eino miskaven” does not exist. Every davar she-eino miskaven is really a psik reisha. According to scientific truth, nothing occurs without a cause that makes it occur. Anyone who drags a chair or bed (which [when it does produce a furrow ] is still termed a psik reisha) could have come to know before the fact – through scientific examination of the weight of the furniture and the soil conditions – whether he would create the furrow or not. If in the end the furrow is created, it was only because the laws of Nature ordained this from the beginning. Nonetheless, it is clear from a halachic standpoint that we call the dragging of the furniture davar she-eino miskaven [and permit it]. This is because according to the reality that appears before our pedestrian eyes, we cannot know if a furrow will be created or not.

Many of us undoubtedly have come up with the same thinking. It is still a pleasant surprise to see it so clearly articulated by a major halachic figure.

Those who are already fans of R Asher Weiss will be interested in getting hold of this volume. Those who are unfamiliar might find this a good jumping off point to get acquainted with a figure who will become ever more important in the decades to come.

The Talmud asks… why? Without focusing upon the rest of the story, and the actual reason behind the laughter, it’s interesting to note what the Talmud discounts. “Because his logic goes with a lenient view, he laughs at someone who teaches a more stringent opinion?!” The Talmud finds that inconceivable!

So you might think, as I did, that obviously the rabbis of the Talmud did not understand the blogger mindset. You know, the type of person who will make fun of anything that his shallow mind doesn’t understand? Perhaps the rabbis didn’t know such people!

But then I realized, no, of course not. The Talmud isn’t talking about your average ... Read More >>]]> The Talmud in Eruvin [47b-48a] discusses the unusual case of a lake situated between two villages, such that each end of the lake is within the Sabbath limits of one or the other village. Because the water mixes, and thus someone who goes out and draws water might be removing water from the Sabbath limits of the other village, Rebbe Chiyah says you can’t draw water without an iron wall dividing the lake. The Talmud continues that Rebbe Yosse bar Rebbe Chanina disagrees — and laughs at Rebbe Chiyah.

The Talmud asks… why? Without focusing upon the rest of the story, and the actual reason behind the laughter, it’s interesting to note what the Talmud discounts. “Because his logic goes with a lenient view, he laughs at someone who teaches a more stringent opinion?!” The Talmud finds that inconceivable!

So you might think, as I did, that obviously the rabbis of the Talmud did not understand the blogger mindset. You know, the type of person who will make fun of anything that his shallow mind doesn’t understand? Perhaps the rabbis didn’t know such people!

But then I realized, no, of course not. The Talmud isn’t talking about your average ignoramus, but on the contrary, about one of the holy Amoraim, Rebbe Yosse bar Rebbe Chanina. Of course there are loads of people who would make fun of scholars who follow stricter opinions; the Talmud only said that that is inconceivable for a person of knowledge and intelligence.

The proof to this is Rebbe Akiva, who said about himself [Pesachim 48b] that before he went to study, if he would have encountered a Torah scholar he would have bit him “like a donkey.” His students asked, why say like a donkey, and not like a dog? He answered that a dog doesn’t break bones, meaning that the donkey’s bite is more violent.

There is another answer, though… when someone mocks scholars for their strict opinions, it’s not merely true that he shows himself to be lacking in both knowledge and intelligence. He’s also acting, like, well, a donkey…

Just saying.

Well, not his head – though that would have been discomfiting too, even more so. This was just a costume head, that of the Sesame Street character Cookie Monster. The scene: a small island of concrete in the middle of lower Broadway in Manhattan, where a moment before, Mr. Monster had been happily (at least his expression seemed to say so) posing with a pair of happy children (their expressions left no doubt), the latter’s parents pointing their phones at the photogenic performer and progeny.

My discomfiture arose from discordance, the jarring contrast between the friendly furry face, now dangling from a hand, and the entertainer’s actual own face, heavily stubbled and sneering. Grumbling and angry, he was clearly not enjoying his job.

It might be a professional hazard. A year or so later, an Elmo in Times Square began shouting anti-Semitic rants (with his head on, so to speak) and blocking traffic before being arrested. Another Cookie Monster in the same area stands accused of shoving a 2-year-old when he deemed his mother’s tip insufficient for his services. (“He was using words that ... Read More >>]]> A discomfiting feeling crept over me as I watched the fellow remove his head.

Well, not his head – though that would have been discomfiting too, even more so. This was just a costume head, that of the Sesame Street character Cookie Monster. The scene: a small island of concrete in the middle of lower Broadway in Manhattan, where a moment before, Mr. Monster had been happily (at least his expression seemed to say so) posing with a pair of happy children (their expressions left no doubt), the latter’s parents pointing their phones at the photogenic performer and progeny.

My discomfiture arose from discordance, the jarring contrast between the friendly furry face, now dangling from a hand, and the entertainer’s actual own face, heavily stubbled and sneering. Grumbling and angry, he was clearly not enjoying his job.

It might be a professional hazard. A year or so later, an Elmo in Times Square began shouting anti-Semitic rants (with his head on, so to speak) and blocking traffic before being arrested. Another Cookie Monster in the same area stands accused of shoving a 2-year-old when he deemed his mother’s tip insufficient for his services. (“He was using words that were really bad,” she related.)

It’s not easy being cooped up in a hot full-body costume. I know that from personal experience as a Purim gorilla several decades ago. But I’m pretty sure I emerged smiling if sweaty, and while I may have frightened some small children, I didn’t mistreat any.

The disconnect between appearances and what lies beneath can sometimes come crashing down on heads, as it did on mine in lower Manhattan and on that of the mother in Times Square. Similarly, a blast of puzzlement and pain hit many of late when a respected academic and rabbi was accused of assuming internet and e-mail aliases for purposes both perplexing (to tout his intellect and accomplishments) and unethical (allegedly providing anecdotal misinformation about a halachic matter).

The electronic masquerading, though, like the fur and plastic sort, might lead the thoughtful to think about how most of us wear masks too. No, we aren’t (hopefully) rude malcontents trying to make a quick buck off of toddlers’ parents. And we also (again hopefully) don’t utilize aliases to self-aggrandize or mislead others (though some sympathy is due an accomplished scholar who must have faced forces we cannot fathom to have so risked – and now lost – respect and credibility amassed over years).

But still, are we always in fact the “we” we project to others? Are we, even the observant Orthodox Jews among us, not – at least on occasion – somewhat inconsistent with our appearances? I once heard a well-known rabbi pose the funny (yet serious) question: “How is it that people sometimes forget to recite a bracha achrona (the blessing after eating) but somehow never forget to eat?” His point was that if all halacha-committed Jews were truly as observant as they appear, they could no more forget to discharge a religious obligation than they could to attend to the demands of their stomachs.

Do those of us whose dress and demeanor bespeak “fervent” Jewish observance not sometimes lapse into questionable speech or thought, or halachic “corner-cutting”? Does that not make some black hats and beards the Jewish equivalent of Elmo costumes?

Not necessarily.

My rebbe, Rabbi Yaakov Weinberg, once (it may even have been in response to the question above) helped me see something I had missed in a familiar Talmudic statement. “Any talmid chochom [religious scholar] whose inside does not reflect his outside,” Rava states, “is no talmid chochom.”

Rabbi Weinberg called attention to the fact that Rava doesn’t simply say that a scholar (or any religious Jew) needs to be the same inside and out, but rather implies that there is a process here: first the outside has to be established; then, to become truly accomplished, the inside must be brought into line with the outward appearance.

In other words, there is nothing wrong with presenting an image of ourselves as we wish to be, even if we haven’t yet merited to fulfill that wish. If we have no such wish, our appearance is a meaningless costume, or worse. But if one’s dress and demeanor are adopted along with a concomitant determination to work toward reflecting inwardly what one projects to the world, well, that’s what yeshiva circles call “working on oneself,” and it’s, in fact, what living a Jewish life is all about.

© 2013 Rabbi Avi Shafran

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The target of one volley – though the shots widely missed their mark – was Rabbi Jonathan Rosenblum, one of the preeminent representatives of the charedi world. He was harshly criticized in a magazine editorial for a column he penned in a different magazine wherein he sought a silver lining in the current political disenfranchisement of charedi parties in the Israeli government coalition.

Rabbi Rosenblum suggested that the current situation “affords new opportunities to meet our fellow Jews on the individual level” and that now that they know that “we no longer threaten them” in the political realm, “they may be more open… to getting behind the stereotypes that fuel the animus” against charedim in Israel. “On a one-to-one basis,” he suggested, “we can show them what Torah means to us, what we are prepared to sacrifice for it, and what it might mean for them as well.”

Astonishingly, the writer of those words was pilloried for that sentiment, and misrepresented, too, as having asserted that “the hatred secular Israelis have toward charedim is the fault of the hated rather than the ... Read More >>]]> Some unwarranted criticism that was lobbed last week at several Orthodox writers greatly disturbed this one.

The target of one volley – though the shots widely missed their mark – was Rabbi Jonathan Rosenblum, one of the preeminent representatives of the charedi world. He was harshly criticized in a magazine editorial for a column he penned in a different magazine wherein he sought a silver lining in the current political disenfranchisement of charedi parties in the Israeli government coalition.

Rabbi Rosenblum suggested that the current situation “affords new opportunities to meet our fellow Jews on the individual level” and that now that they know that “we no longer threaten them” in the political realm, “they may be more open… to getting behind the stereotypes that fuel the animus” against charedim in Israel. “On a one-to-one basis,” he suggested, “we can show them what Torah means to us, what we are prepared to sacrifice for it, and what it might mean for them as well.”

Astonishingly, the writer of those words was pilloried for that sentiment, and misrepresented, too, as having asserted that “the hatred secular Israelis have toward charedim is the fault of the hated rather than the haters” (which, of course, he never contended). The censure of Rabbi Rosenblum continued in much the same vein, with the censurer lumping all non-charedi Israelis into one undifferentiated “secular” mass brimming with ideological hatred for religious Jews, and concluding that the only possible way to truly alleviate anti-charedi sentiment would be for charedim to abandon their beliefs and “adopt… the culture of the majority.”

To be sure, there are secular ideologues in Israel, and elsewhere, for whom Judaism itself is anathema. Rabbi Rosenblum knows that well, every bit as well as his attacker. But the vast majority of non-charedi Jews are not ideologues. Most Jews who may bear bias against their charedi fellow citizens do so because of anti-charedi propaganda – and the fact that they themselves have few if any positive personal interactions with charedim. It is precisely that latter unfortunate reality that Rabbi Rosenblum suggests charedim try to address.

Rabbi Rosenblum is a friend of mine, but I have not always agreed with him (nor he with me) on every issue; I would never hesitate to take issue with him if I felt it were warranted. But his straightforward, heartfelt and wise contention that religious Jews in Israel (and I’d extend it to those of us in America no less) would do well to seek opportunities for demolishing negative stereotypes about charedim is simply beyond any reasonable argument.

Two other Orthodox writers, members of what is often called the “Centrist” Orthodox world, were also strongly taken to task last week in a charedi newspaper. These targets, criticized by a respected columnist, were Rabbi Gil Student and Rabbi Harry Maryles, each of whom presides over a popular blog.

The columnist’s complaint was that the rabbinical bloggers did not see fit to condemn a third Centrist rabbi, a celebrated scholar whose reputation was, sadly, recently upended by the revelation that he had engaged in internet “sock puppetry” – the assumption of an alternate identity on the Internet. It was hardly the most scandalous of scandals but was still (as the culprit eventually admitted and apologized for) an act of subterfuge below someone of his scholarly stature.

Since the pretender had often posted, been quoted or been lauded on Rabbi Student’s and Rabbi Maryles’ blogs – the columnist contended – each of them needed to vociferously denounce him. That, because their blogs regularly link to stories in the general media that portray charedi Jews’ real or imagined crimes and misdemeanors, and because many comments appearing on each blog evidence clear animus for charedim. Why, the columnist asked, the double standard, the seeming readiness to extend mercy and the benefit of the doubt to a Centrist rabbi’s misdeeds but not to fallen charedim? The columnist, moreover, insinuated that Rabbis Maryles and Student themselves harbor ill will for charedim.

I cannot claim to be aware of everything (or even most things) that Rabbi Student or Rabbi Maryles have written. But what I have seen of the writings of each has never given me the impression that either man bears any such animus. They are not charedi themselves, to be sure, and I have disagreed with some of their stances. This is not fatal; indeed it is healthy, like all “arguments for the sake of Heaven.” But I don’t think it is reasonable to demand that they denounce someone whom each of them has looked to as a rabbinic authority. IMHO, as bloggers are wont to write – “in my humble opinion” – there was simply no need to pour salt into the wound here.

An important point, though, was registered by the columnist, and it is one that I hope Rabbi Maryles, Rabbi Student and, for that matter, the “charedi websites” alike all ponder well: Comments sections attract ill will, slander and cynicism like some physical materials do flies. While there are certainly responsible commenters out there, there are also many people with clearly too much time and too few compunctions. And it doesn’t strike me as outlandish to wonder if permitting the posting of cynical or vile comments is complicity in what such comments “accomplish.”

It’s a propitious time for talmidim, which we all are of our respective rabbaim, to do our best to ratchet up our “kovod zeh lazeh” – our proper honor for one another, even when we may be in disagreement. That can be done agreeably.

© 2013 Rabbi Avi Shafran

This essay and other material as well can be accessed here

If you’re interested in what the Chasam Sofer saw in the prophet Amos’ comparison of righteous Jews and black people, click here.

A woman I’ve known for several years is now heading up a new group called Women For the Wall, for “preserving the sanctity of the Wall.” It’s not just a counter-movement, it’s a group of traditional Jewish women celebrating who they are.

Please check them out, and support the right of the majority to pray undisturbed!

Later this summer, we will read of Korach and his followers. Korach made a specifically democratic argument against the “appropriation” of any special role in the Divine service by either Moshe Rabbeinu or his brother, Aharon Hakohein: “For the entire assembly – all of them – are holy. . . “

Nor can there be any question of the sincerity of the followers of Korach. Moshe warned them that only one of those who brought the incense offering would survive, and yet 250 showed up the next morning and placed the incense on their censors. Their evident sincerity did not avail them, and each one perished in the same fashion as Nadav and Avihu.

From these two famous episodes, we learn three things. First, when it comes to Divine service, modern categories, like “rights of religious expression” and “equality,” are misplaced. Hashem ... Read More >>]]> Two weeks ago, we read in Parshas Shemini how on the day of the dedication of the Mishkan, Nadav and Avihu, sons of Aharon Hakohein, brought a “strange fire in front of Hashem” and were consumed by a “fire that went forth from before Hashem.” Targum Onkelos translates a “strange fire” as one “not commanded by Hashem.”

Later this summer, we will read of Korach and his followers. Korach made a specifically democratic argument against the “appropriation” of any special role in the Divine service by either Moshe Rabbeinu or his brother, Aharon Hakohein: “For the entire assembly – all of them – are holy. . . “

Nor can there be any question of the sincerity of the followers of Korach. Moshe warned them that only one of those who brought the incense offering would survive, and yet 250 showed up the next morning and placed the incense on their censors. Their evident sincerity did not avail them, and each one perished in the same fashion as Nadav and Avihu.

From these two famous episodes, we learn three things. First, when it comes to Divine service, modern categories, like “rights of religious expression” and “equality,” are misplaced. Hashem has the ultimate say in how we relate to Him and about the form of the relationship. And He may not be egalitarian – the second thing we learn. Korach’s challenge to the unique status of Moshe and Aharon was also a challenge to truth of the prophecy received from Hashem and, as such, met with immediate Divine punishment.

And third, sincerity – i.e., the desire, even intense desire, to worship Hashem in a particular fashion – is not enough. As we saw, Korach’s followers sincerely wanted to draw close to Hashem.

Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik, the preeminent Modern Orthodox thinker, made this point once to a woman who sought his permission to wear a tallis while praying. He told her that she should first try wearing a four-cornered garment without the tzizis. She returned to Rabbi Soloveitchik after three months and told him that her prayers had never been so inspired and exhilarating.

He pointed out that her exhilaration came from an act that had no halachic significance and forbade her from wearing a tallis. Rabbi Soloveitchik’s point was that emphasis on the subjective emotional experience reflects a pagan, not Jewish, approach to prayer. Jewish prayer takes place only within the context of the Divine command.

SINCERITY, AS A RELIGIOUS DETERMINANT, knows no bounds. More than twenty years ago, I asked one of the early leaders of Women of the Wall (WoW) – who described herself as religiously observant – on what grounds she would oppose Jews for J conducting their own minyan at the Kosel. She could not answer. Nor did she dismiss their doing so out of hand.

Leah Shakdiel, another early WoW activist, envisioned the Kosel becoming a sort of center for religious rites as performance art, where “different people dynamically evolve various forms of worship so that Jews and Muslims and Christians can pray together to Hashem.”

The power of the Kosel derives from the fact that it is the last link to the Bais Hamikdash, which once stood on the Har Habayis above, and, as such, the enduring symbol of Jewish continuity. For it to become a showplace for whatever is avant-garde in religious rites would remove that power.

Even those who claim the right to worship at the Kosel as their heart desires and their supporters worldwide apparently recognize some limitations on “sincerity” as the ultimate desideratum. I have not heard of any Reform or Conservative fundraising campaigns to aid the Temple Mount Faithful in their desire to conduct communal prayers on the Har Habayis, yet no one denies their sincere desire to do so.

MOREOVER, there is no reason to grant the sincerity of those who come to the Kosel on Rosh Chodesh to conduct services in talleisim and tefillin. Those gatherings are more political than religious. The first such gathering was timed to coincide with an international conference of Jewish feminists in Yerushalayim more than twenty years ago. It’s safe to say that few of those at the conference were regular attendees at Rosh Chodesh minyanim.

They came to the Kosel to make a political statement: we reject any gender distinctions in Judaism. The specific attraction to forms of garb worn for prayer by men and public prayer in a minyan, which is only halachically incumbent on men, without first being meticulous in all matters of observance equally obligatory on men and women, is a feminist statement, not a religious one.

An acquaintance of mine was once sitting on a plane to Israel next to a newly-minted PhD. student from Michigan, who told her that her trip to Israel to study at a “non-Orthodox yeshiva” had been fully funded. Asked what specifically she would be doing in Israel, the young woman replied excitedly that she would be going to the Kosel “to put on a shmatte (old rag).” Noting the older woman’s puzzled look, she continued, “You know, a shmatte,” while miming putting on a tallis. The prime attraction of the Kosel for her was the frisson of causing Orthodox Jews to gnash their teeth.

Anat Hoffman, the leading voice of WoW, is also the executive director of the Israel Religious Action Center (Reform). Yet, Reform does not view the Kosel as possessing any special sanctity. A 1999 statement of the Progressive Rabbis in Israel declared, “One should not consider the Western Wall as possessing any sanctity. . . The approach of the Progressive Jew towards worship and prayer is opposed to any renewal of the Temple, opposed to the restoration of sacrificial worship. . . The Western Wall does not represent Jewish cleaving to Hashem nor the experience of prayer nor Jewish thought for our times.”

If the Kosel possesses no special sanctity, why is Hoffman so eager to pray there in tallis and tefillin? Secular journalist Hillel Halkin long ago asked the question: “Were they to come to the Wall without prayer shawls, as a simple gesture of respect for the traditions of the place, against what sacred principles of their faith would they be sinning? Are there no other places to practice Jewish feminism in the world, in Israel, or even in Jerusalem, that they must do it at the one site where it is sure to infuriate large numbers of Orthodox Jews?”

THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION is twofold. First, the WoW and the heterodox movements seek validation of their rites. Their first response to Jewish Agency Chairman Natan Sharansky’s proposal to partition the Kosel into three sections – men, women, and egalitarian – was to insist that all three sections have a common point of entry. As Anat Hoffman put it last December, “I want to see and be seen.”

“Be seen” by whom? If Hoffman means being seen by Hashem, I imagine that even she would admit that His view extends the entire length of the Kosel. So she must mean some human audience. But the notion that the state of Israel or the distinguished chairman of the Jewish Agency can confer validity on any particular form of prayer by forcing its public viewing is, frankly, pathetic – at least if one conceives of prayer as directed to Hashem.

While the Kosel may possess no special holiness for the heterodox movements, it does offer the maximum potential for confrontation. And Anat Hoffman is canny enough to know that casting herself as Rosa Parks circa 1955 guarantees maximum photo-ops inThe New York Times. And those, in turn, help fill the coffers of the minuscule Reform movement in Israel and energize the heterodox movements abroad by providing them with a cause – “equal religious rights.” No matter how spruced up and expanded the new area for egalitarian prayer, the heterodox movements will cavil at the Sharansky plan out of fear that with the potential for confrontation reduced, the area reserved for them will quickly fall into disuse.

THE OVERWHELMING MAJORITY OF JEWS who come to the Kosel – men and women, religiously observant and not yet observant – come not to engage in public prayer, but to pour out their whispered supplications to Hashem. Every Jew – and even non-Jews – can address any prayer to Hashem, in whatever language they want, without fear of harassment.

Anat Hoffman and her cohorts should try it.

This article was first published in Yated Ne’eman.

Certainly the fact that the former Michael Weiner adopted the name “Savage,” of all things, and that the portly 70-ish fellow introduces his program with abrasive headbanger music more suitable to a pierced punk rocker than a political pontificator would seem to argue for the alter ego case. So would optimism about the human condition: It would be disturbing to know that such an abrasive person was in fact real.

Already disturbing is the fact that the fellow (or his affected persona) has Jewish admirers. Those fans apparently figure that someone who voices fury for terrorists, bashes Israel-bashers and claims to stand up for traditional morals not only can’t be all bad but must be all good. No logic there, of course, but no one ever claimed that fandom is fettered by reason.

And so some Orthodox Jewish admirers of Mr. ... Read More >>]]> It’s difficult to know whether shock-jock Michael Savage is in fact the actual person whose Bronx-accented ranting emanates daily from radios across the country, or whether that voice belongs to an adopted persona, a cantankerous, rude and hilariously self-aggrandizing misfit who seeks to capitalize on an assortment of angers lurking in the dark corners of listeners’ souls.

Certainly the fact that the former Michael Weiner adopted the name “Savage,” of all things, and that the portly 70-ish fellow introduces his program with abrasive headbanger music more suitable to a pierced punk rocker than a political pontificator would seem to argue for the alter ego case. So would optimism about the human condition: It would be disturbing to know that such an abrasive person was in fact real.

Already disturbing is the fact that the fellow (or his affected persona) has Jewish admirers. Those fans apparently figure that someone who voices fury for terrorists, bashes Israel-bashers and claims to stand up for traditional morals not only can’t be all bad but must be all good. No logic there, of course, but no one ever claimed that fandom is fettered by reason.

And so some Orthodox Jewish admirers of Mr. Savage (or DR. Savage, as he prefers to be called – he earned a Berkeley Ph.D. in “nutritional ethnomedicine”) were pained to hear the talk show host spend most of two programs last week spitting outrage at a Jewish ritual and its “bearded guys” practitioners.

The ritual, metzitza bipeh, or oral suctioning of a circumcision cut – a practice widely observed in Chassidic and yeshiva-centric communities – is hardly a good poster child for religious freedom. That it appears strange and even dangerous to uninformed people unfamiliar with the rite is entirely understandable.

But ignorance – something Mr. Savage champions himself as helping lesser people overcome – remains ignorance; and its promotion, heavily larded with ill will, is offensive. It might not be surprising in a radio personality who famously once asserted that in “ninety-nine percent” of autism cases the child is just “a brat who hasn’t been told to cut the act out” and on another occasion told a listener who dared take issue with him to “Go eat a sausage, and choke on it.” But the offensiveness remains.

Yes, New York Mayor (a.k.a. “Nanny-in-Chief”) Michael Bloomberg, with the assistance of the New York Board of Health, has waged war on metzitza bipeh, claiming that it has been the cause of infections of Herpes Simplex Virus Type 1 (the cold sore virus, carried by most of the population but which can be dangerous in babies). That fact was the extent of Mr. Savage’s research of the issue. But it has been compellingly asserted by objective scientists that the mayor and health board’s claims are without basis in fact.

New York Westchester Hospital Chief of Infectious Diseases Dr. Daniel S. Berman, Beth Israel Hospital director of epidemiologic research Dr. Brenda Breuer and Columbia University Professor Awi Federgruen, an expert in quantitative methodology, have all publicly called into serious question the claim that metzitza bipeh represents any quantifiable danger to babies.

(There is, of course, a slightly increased danger of any infection at the site of any open wound – including a circumcision, even when metzitza bipeh was not performed. But such increased risk of harm doesn’t approach that of the increased risk to life and limb attendant to, say skiing, bicycling or crossing a Manhattan street – even when the “walk” sign is on.)

Affidavits by each of those intrepid professionals (none of whom carries any brief for metzitza bipeh; their only goal is to defend the integrity of science and its objective application to life and law) can be read at http://protectmilah.org/ (on the click-through to the second page of the site).

Had Mr. Savage taken the time and care to actually research the issue of the Jewish ritual’s alleged dangerousness before launching his crude tirade, he might have been less inclined to render a judgment so quickly, absolutely and rudely. But that would have required fairness and objectivity, not to mention good will toward people with whom he has little in common.

And such things, admirable though they are, don’t do much for ratings.

© 2013 Rabbi Avi Shafran

This essay and other essays and musings can be seen at http://rabbiavishafran.com/

As she was led off by police, their director, Lesley Sachs, was caught on video shouting out: “to all women from all denominations, there is more than one way to be a Jew!” Her actions were never about joining the others in prayer, but about disrupting them.

MK Michal Rozin said it best: “It’s not a religious issue, it’s a political issue.” Of course, it’s a religious site, and thus the first question should have been whether or not it is appropriate to stage a political protest in a place where others are accustomed to praying in peace.

This is why the proposal from Natan Sharansky, much as it is being celebrated in the press, is actually drawing a more positive reaction from Western Wall Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz than from the group. According to the Jerusalem Post, Rabbi Rabinowitz said that he will not oppose the plan “for the sake of unity and out of ... Read More >>]]> The Women of the Wall must be one of the most offensively misnamed groups in history. They don’t represent the Wall, they don’t represent the vast majority of the women who pray there, and they don’t represent sincere prayer.

As she was led off by police, their director, Lesley Sachs, was caught on video shouting out: “to all women from all denominations, there is more than one way to be a Jew!” Her actions were never about joining the others in prayer, but about disrupting them.

MK Michal Rozin said it best: “It’s not a religious issue, it’s a political issue.” Of course, it’s a religious site, and thus the first question should have been whether or not it is appropriate to stage a political protest in a place where others are accustomed to praying in peace.

This is why the proposal from Natan Sharansky, much as it is being celebrated in the press, is actually drawing a more positive reaction from Western Wall Rabbi Shmuel Rabinowitz than from the group. According to the Jerusalem Post, Rabbi Rabinowitz said that he will not oppose the plan “for the sake of unity and out of a desire to distance the Western Wall from all argument and dispute” — but meanwhile, the Women of the Wall group has announced “that it would find any solution in which the group be forced to pray separately from the main plaza unacceptable.” One side is interested in letting Orthodox Jews [see comments] pray in peace. The other … wants the very opposite.

In reality, there is nothing new or revolutionary about the proposal, from Natan Sharansky, to expand the Robinson’s Arch area. That revolution, if it could ever have been called that, came a decade ago, when the Israel Supreme Court acknowledged both the right of the overwhelming majority to pray according to Orthodox norms, as well as the right of others to do as they wish — and required that a space be provided for them at Robinson’s Arch — and the Conservative movement said yes. You wouldn’t know it reading the articles today, which talk about how liberal movements are taking the bold step of accepting this amazing compromise, but there’s nothing new about it. The conservatives accepted it 10 years ago, and were complaining about fees for access three years later (and I said, at the time, that justice was with them in that complaint).

The reason why the so-called “Women of the Wall” found that solution unacceptable is because they are not trying to observe their own practices, but change Orthodox ones. Let’s be honest, their chairwoman, Anat Hoffman, has never expressed interest in any form of prayer, except when it’s interfering with those of others. While she was still a member of the Knesset (with the rabidly anti-religious Meretz party) in the early 1990′s, she stated quite clearly that “if it weren’t for the media, I would find no reason to be here.” As the executive director of IRAC, she continues to fritter away Reform Jewish dollars for causes having nothing to do with Reform Judaism. As I wrote about their “news” section a few years back, “Articles about Reform, even adding a collection of one-sided portrayals of the ‘Women of the Wall,’ are vastly outnumbered by articles about their opposition to voluntary gender separation on buses, demonstrations against Orthodox Rabbis, interference with Charedi education and unsavory comparisons between Rabbis and Imams.”

But for the record, I do see a bright side. If the Sharansky plan is actually implemented, this tremendous waste of money will provide ongoing, daily evidence of the unpopularity of liberal Jewish streams in Israel. That section of the Kotel Plaza will be used by the IDF for induction ceremonies, on Friday nights by mixed groups on tours of Israel, for Conservative Jews who can’t even fill the small current space, the occasional mixed Bar (or Bat) Mitzvah, and the Women of the Wall. And in total it will see roughly 2% of the traffic of those streaming to pray at the site of S’rid Beis Kodsheynu, l’hispallel sheyibaneh bimheyrah b’yameinu.

Then I also received word, via email, of the passing of Rebbetzin Shaindel Bulman a”h, the wife of Rav Nachman Bulman zt”l. The Bulmans helped to build Torah in Danville, VA, Newport News, VA, Far Rockaway, NY, Migdal HaEmek, and finally in Neve Yaakov, Jerusalem. She is the author of A Cup of Tea with the Rebbetzin, and the just released second volume, Another Cup of Tea with the Rebbetzin. Her children, including our writer Rbtzn. Toby Katz, are sitting shiva at her home in Neve Yaakov, while her sister Ruth Weiser is sitting shiva in Teaneck, NJ.

By the time Carter appeared at Cardozo Law School to accept an award from the Journal of Conflict Resolution, the event had earned the condemnation of the ZOA, the National Council of Young Israel, the Simon Wiesenthal Center, and the ADL. These organizations had little choice. Carter, alongside Desmond Tutu, has been among the most damaging public figures to the Jewish State. He gave the “apartheid” calumny a good name; he has been vociferously anti-Israel and flirted with Hamas terrorism. As a paid shill of the Saudis who support him, this is hardly unexpected. The fact that he is a puppet jerked back and forth by his handlers does not, unfortunately, put a dent in the high-profile damage he does to Jewish interests.

This was not merely an issue of Jewish pride dictating that, in today’s world, an Israel-hater is a Jew-hater, and Jewish institutions ought not be seen as supportive of honoring those who hate us. Carter is far ... Read More >>]]> The Jimmy Carter debacle may tell us more about the values and principles of our community than we bargained for. Subgroups that believe they have little in common seem to behave – or misbehave – in similar fashion.

By the time Carter appeared at Cardozo Law School to accept an award from the Journal of Conflict Resolution, the event had earned the condemnation of the ZOA, the National Council of Young Israel, the Simon Wiesenthal Center, and the ADL. These organizations had little choice. Carter, alongside Desmond Tutu, has been among the most damaging public figures to the Jewish State. He gave the “apartheid” calumny a good name; he has been vociferously anti-Israel and flirted with Hamas terrorism. As a paid shill of the Saudis who support him, this is hardly unexpected. The fact that he is a puppet jerked back and forth by his handlers does not, unfortunately, put a dent in the high-profile damage he does to Jewish interests.

This was not merely an issue of Jewish pride dictating that, in today’s world, an Israel-hater is a Jew-hater, and Jewish institutions ought not be seen as supportive of honoring those who hate us. Carter is far more dangerous than that. The global Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement has become the weapon of choice of the Palestinians. It seeks to do what they cannot do on the battlefield – defeat Israel by turning her into a pariah state, slowly destabilizing her economy and standard of living till the Israeli that have not emigrated will tire of the entire enterprise of sustaining her. BDS needs the support of people who speak with moral authority. Jimmy Carter is one of its greatest assets. Carter’s ability after yesterday’s appearance to claim respectability even in Jewish circles is far more dangerous than anything a few Neturei Karta kooks can ever do in Teheran. Concerning those who strenghthen Carter’s hand, the Torah’s words (Shemos 5:21) state its condemnation with stinging clarity: “You have made our scent abhorrent…to place a sword in their hands to murder us.”

Who was responsible? Certainly not YU President Richard Joel, who did as good a damage control job as could be done. No one believes that university presidents speak freely. We all know that some board of donors determines policy.

Some people argued that there were no degrees of freedom available to Yeshiva. Cardozo is a secular institution, as is Yeshiva College and Albert Einstein College of Medicine. As secular institutions, they cannot impose the moral preferences of Jews – and certainly not Torah Jews – on the academic communities of those schools.

This sounded hollow to many. Think of how many Jewish student groups have been told in recent years that they could not host pro-Israel speaker X or Israeli spokesperson Y because of “security issues.” The Cardozo students could have been told that the law school could not adequately provide for the security needs of such an event, forcing the students to seek a different venue, off-campus. No PC lines need to have been crossed, but Carter would not be able to claim that he spoke under the aegis of the YU administration. Moreover, a host of entirely secular schools have intervened against particular speakers they found to be highly objectionable, apparently without consequence. Why did we not see more pushback from the administration against this event?

Let us put this approach aside for the moment. For the sake of argument, let us assume that YU had no choice put to allow the event, because secular institutions must play along with the expectation of absolute freedom of expression. Does this not beg the question? Why must divisions of YU be fastidiously secular? I have taught in two law schools, both Christian. Loyola’s Christianity is all but invisible. Pepperdine’s, however, is very much in evidence – and it is of a right-leaning, evangelical kind of Christian flavor. The school articulates principles of behavior that faculty and students are supposed to uphold. If this compromises Federal funding (I don’t know if this is the case), the church faithful make up the difference, because they are attracted to support their kind of school.

Why doesn’t YU act the way so many church schools do? Conflicts of this sort are not new. (Remember the controversies over gay roommates at Einstein, and a gay club at Cardozo?) There has been adequate time for the people who make the decisions at YU to mull over the price they have paid in the past, and will certainly pay again in the future, for spinning off certain schools as secular institutions. Today they aided and abetted the enemy.

Why have they acted this way? They are good people, certainly not haters of Israel. It is hard to imagine that many of them did not find today’s event contemptible. Yet, they were the ones who should have anticipated that once a school goes the secular route, they lose control over who speaks, and what they say.

The answer, of course, is money – and prestige. Weighing the pros and cons, a group of people decided that they could live with the foreseeable conflicts with Jewish values and interests, if the stakes were high enough.

There is much irony in this. Ask these people what they hate about charedim in Israel. One of the items they will mention is that charedim can be bought by each government. Offer them enough money for their institutions, and they will vote for whatever the ruling coalition asks them to vote. They don’t have strong opinions about the political and social issues that the rest of the electorate agonizes over. Their moral sense – about everything other than the future of Torah institutions – is either absent or for sale. This perception, it is argued (and it is difficult to disagree) makes a mockery of our Torah which is supposed to promote both insight into the hard questions of life, as well as a sense of responsibility for the people as a whole. The rest of Israel sees both of these lacking in charedi politics.

Today we discovered that the same attitude operates just as well in the Modern Orthodox world. It sacrificed ideals for dollars, principle for prestige.

We could summarize the last paragraphs by saying that people who live in cash houses shouldn’t throw stones at charedim!

Either both sets of behavior – the sellout by the YU board, and the tunnel vision of Israeli charedim – are defensible, or neither is. (My leanings are to the latter.)

It could even be argued that the charedi position is the more defensible one. Charedim are so committed to the values of limud Torah, that nothing else seems to count. They will sacrifice other values for a single, quintessential one. The sacrifice at YU is not, it would seem, for an all-important value, but for the well-being of a single institution.

Perhaps there is a difference between those choices. Perhaps there isn’t. Maybe we ought to consult a recognized authority in moral discernment. I wonder what Jimmy Carter would say.

I had shared the same concerns they had about Mr. Obama during his first campaign for the presidency – his Chicago politics background, his attendance of a church headed by a rabid racist, his association with other distasteful characters, the suddenness of his rise to political prominence. But after his election (which happened somehow, despite my vote for his rival) I tried to focus not on the past but the present. And I found his Cairo speech pleasantly surprising.

That he chose to address the Islamic world in itself did not disturb me. Were I in his position, I reflected, were I a person of color who lived in a Muslim environment as a child and now the leader of a free world plagued by Islamic extremism, I would have made the same choice, seized the golden opportunity to try to reach the Muslim masses with a message of moderation.

And, continuing my thought experiment, I imagined myself saying much what the new president did. He spoke of Islamic culture’s accomplishments, extended a hand of ... Read More >>]]> Back in 2009, I was troubled by the reaction of many of my friends to President Obama’s speech in Cairo to the Muslim world.

I had shared the same concerns they had about Mr. Obama during his first campaign for the presidency – his Chicago politics background, his attendance of a church headed by a rabid racist, his association with other distasteful characters, the suddenness of his rise to political prominence. But after his election (which happened somehow, despite my vote for his rival) I tried to focus not on the past but the present. And I found his Cairo speech pleasantly surprising.

That he chose to address the Islamic world in itself did not disturb me. Were I in his position, I reflected, were I a person of color who lived in a Muslim environment as a child and now the leader of a free world plagued by Islamic extremism, I would have made the same choice, seized the golden opportunity to try to reach the Muslim masses with a message of moderation.

And, continuing my thought experiment, I imagined myself saying much what the new president did. He spoke of Islamic culture’s accomplishments, extended a hand of friendship and addressed some of the problems facing his listeners.

And not only didn’t he shy away from the topic of Israel, he seized it hard and fast. To be sure, he reiterated America’s long-standing support for a two-state solution to the Israel-Palestinian conflict, the position of even the Israeli government these days. And he called for an end to new settlements, also reflecting long-established American policy. But he declared too that “America’s strong bonds with Israel are… unbreakable… based upon cultural and historical ties, and that the aspiration for a Jewish homeland is rooted in a tragic history that cannot be denied.”

In fact, he decried Holocaust denial, so rife in the Muslim world, as “baseless, ignorant, and hateful,” and condemned the “threatening [of] Israel with destruction” and the “repeating [of] vile stereotypes about Jews.” He poignantly declared that “Palestinians must abandon violence,” that it is “a sign of neither courage nor power to shoot rockets at sleeping children, or to blow up old women on a bus.”

And yet some Jews were deeply unimpressed – because the president described the state of Israel as rooted in the Holocaust. The Jewish connection to Eretz Yisrael, they complained, is rather older than that. Indeed it is, of course. But somehow I wouldn’t have thought it necessary or wise for Mr. Obama to quote from the Torah, particularly to an Islamic audience.

I suppose that the critics weren’t begrudging him quite that. They just wanted to hear some reference to the fact that the Holy Land was holy to, and populated by, Jews before Muslims (or Islam for that matter) came on the scene. Even that, I thought, would have been unwise at that time and place, and I felt it was ungenerous to not at least give Mr. Obama credit for what he did say, clearly and unequivocally. And I found the president’s subsequent actions on behalf of Israel, from pushing the Iron Dome project to intensifying the anti-Iran Stuxnet collaboration with Israel to his strong and quick intercession on behalf of Israelis held hostage in Egypt (and much more) as confirmation of my judgment of the man’s commitment to Israel’s safety and security.

Now, on his recent trip to Israel, the president came clean, so to speak, on the issue of the Jewish connection to Eretz Yisrael.

“More than 3,000 years ago, the Jewish people lived here,” he said, “tended the land here, prayed to G-d here.” And he called the fact of Jews living in their ancestral land “a rebirth, a redemption unlike any in history.”

Needless to say, as the Zoharic prayer “B’rich Sh’mei,” recited by many when the Torah is removed from the ark, has it, we are not to put our trust in any man. And the hearts of leaders, in any event, are in Hashem’s hands, and subject to the effect of our own merits.

So the future cannot be known by any of us. But the present can, and we are obliged by our tradition, which hallows the concept of hakaras hatov, “recognition of the good,” to be thankful for both what President Obama has done and what he has said.

May we merit to see his continued support for our brothers and sisters in the Holy Land.

© 2013 Rabbi Avi Shafran

The professor’s contribution to the effort to bring public pressure on the U.S. Supreme Court as it hears two cases concerning the meaning of marriage was to note that some plants, lichen, snails and bees do not mate in ways that we would characterized as male-female pairs. In fact, Dr. Haskell informs us, even apes in the rainforest may form same-sex bonds.

Of course, that hardly constitutes “nature’s case for same-sex marriage,” the title that ran above the professor’s piece. At least not if society wishes to continue to disapprove of things like thievery, murder and cannibalism, all easily spotted in the wild. (There’s a reason, after all, it’s called the wild.)

To be fair, Dr. Haskell’s true target (despite his piece’s misleading title) is only the argument that, as the 18th-century English jurist William Blackstone wrote, marriage should be “founded in nature.”

That’s a straw man, though, and one that might benefit from a lit match. What is or is not “natural,” at least from ... Read More >>]]> Amid the ongoing avalanche of political conversions, punditry and testimonials on behalf of redefining marriage was a recent op-ed piece in The New York Times by a professor of biology, David George Haskell.

The professor’s contribution to the effort to bring public pressure on the U.S. Supreme Court as it hears two cases concerning the meaning of marriage was to note that some plants, lichen, snails and bees do not mate in ways that we would characterized as male-female pairs. In fact, Dr. Haskell informs us, even apes in the rainforest may form same-sex bonds.

Of course, that hardly constitutes “nature’s case for same-sex marriage,” the title that ran above the professor’s piece. At least not if society wishes to continue to disapprove of things like thievery, murder and cannibalism, all easily spotted in the wild. (There’s a reason, after all, it’s called the wild.)

To be fair, Dr. Haskell’s true target (despite his piece’s misleading title) is only the argument that, as the 18th-century English jurist William Blackstone wrote, marriage should be “founded in nature.”

That’s a straw man, though, and one that might benefit from a lit match. What is or is not “natural,” at least from a classical Jewish perspective, is not the measure of right and wrong.

Discussion of right and wrong these days in this land, at least where there is no obvious human victim of the action at issue, is complicated by the formidable church-state wall that has been erected over the years by our country’s courts. The First Amendment’s rule that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion” has, for better or worse, come to mean to many that nothing based in the human religious tradition may have any impact on any law in the land. That construct, however, does not change reality, at least not as understood by Judaism.

The Jewish religious tradition consists of the G-d-given Written and Oral Torahs’ teachings as transmitted by the Jewish sages over the generations. While Jewish laws can be applied (by expert authorities committed to the Torah’s truths and impervious to the Zeitgeist) to different cases in different ways, they are not affected by societal mores or contracts.

The vast majority of the Torah’s laws are incumbent only on Jews. But there are seven fundamental laws that the Torah mandates for all human beings. They were known to and accepted by all people in antiquity – hence their appellation “The Laws of Noah’s descendants” (or “Noahide Laws”). Among them are laws prohibiting certain sexual unions, male-male ones among them.

That ancient moral tradition underlies many religions’ disapproval of homosexual acts. Judaism is not the only belief system that harbors such disapproval; so do many Christian churches, as well as Islam, Mormonism, Sikhism and the Bahai church, among others. And it is that moral tradition which underlay the broad societal disapproval of homosexual acts that informed the American public before the Stonewall riots in 1969 and the entertainment industry’s subsequent embrace, and eventual celebration, of “nontraditional” personal relationships.

Truth be told, although the legal meaning of “marriage” has already been changed by several states and is currently being discussed by the Supreme Court, most Americans, including most American legislators and jurists, would still consider things like incestuous unions or multiple-partner arrangements to fall far short of deserving the name “marriage.” That, despite the fact that the only grounds for disenfranchising such arrangements – or, for that matter, for refraining from killing compromised newborns or the terminal elderly – are the tenets of humanity’s moral tradition, the Noahide Laws.

Which leads one to wonder, and worry, about the future. The republic’s Founding Fathers were certainly wise to seek to prevent laws “respecting an establishment of religion.” But a societal embrace of the opposite pole, the dismissal of the very concept of a universal moral code is, or should be, deeply disturbing.

© 2013 Rabbi Avi Shafran

For why the redefinition of marriage needs to matter to us, see here .

More information about the special newsletter and a subscription link can be obtained here.

Two words — often offered pro forma but here truly heartfelt — for all those who encouraged me to commit to this project and backed their encouragement with subscriptions: Thank you.

Rabbi Avi Shafran

The incoming government coalition results from a concatenation of long-range political trends and a series of inexplicable blunders by veteran politicians. First, we’ll consider the long-range trends. From 1977 until 2005, the Israeli public was divided primarily over the “peace process,” a trend that became even more pronounced after the signing of the Oslo Accords. Each side was willing to offer the chareidi parties whatever was required to join their coalition to prevail on the issue of paramount importance to them.

Since the failure of the 2005 Gaza withdrawal, Israelis have soured on the possibility of peace and concluded that further territorial withdrawals will only result in the creation of another launching pad for rocket and terrorist attacks. That consensus closed the great fissure in Israeli politics. With issues of war and peace dormant, the possibility of new coalitions around other issues arose. Chareidi parties no ... Read More >>]]> Already five years ago, a prominent American rosh yeshiva told me that we might be approaching the end of a miraculous period in which the secular Israeli government became the prime supporter of Torah learning on a scale unprecedented in Jewish history. If the new coalition guidelines are implemented, that moment has arrived.

The incoming government coalition results from a concatenation of long-range political trends and a series of inexplicable blunders by veteran politicians. First, we’ll consider the long-range trends. From 1977 until 2005, the Israeli public was divided primarily over the “peace process,” a trend that became even more pronounced after the signing of the Oslo Accords. Each side was willing to offer the chareidi parties whatever was required to join their coalition to prevail on the issue of paramount importance to them.

Since the failure of the 2005 Gaza withdrawal, Israelis have soured on the possibility of peace and concluded that further territorial withdrawals will only result in the creation of another launching pad for rocket and terrorist attacks. That consensus closed the great fissure in Israeli politics. With issues of war and peace dormant, the possibility of new coalitions around other issues arose. Chareidi parties no longer hold the balance of power on the issue of paramount importance to most voters. Indeed for much of the non-chareidi public, the chareidim themselves are the most important issue.

Still, Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu was eager to retain the traditional alliance between Likud and the chareidi parties, in forming his new government. One does not sever old and reliable allies when the political roadmap ahead is filled with potholes. Unfortunately, the math did not work out. For one thing, Netanyahu made two bad decisions: He did not time new elections to coincide with the height of his popularity, and he decided to merge Likud and Yisrael Beitanu, whose leader, Avigdor Lieberman, immediately found himself under criminal indictment. As a result, Netanyahu ended up with ten less mandates than anticipated.

Second, Shas leader Rabbi Aryeh Deri feared having Bayit Yehudi headed by Naftali Bennett in the coalition, where it would threaten Shas’s control of the state religious establishment. Netanyahu had his own reasons for not wanting Bennett in the cabinet. The result was to drive Bennett’s settler party into the arms of the yuppies of Yesh Atid party, whose leader Yair Lapid has been a persistent critic of the settlement enterprise.

That unlikely pairing could unravel rapidly if President Obama pressures Israel for concessions to the Palestinians in return for American action on Iran. But it held rock firm throughout the drawn out coalition negotiations. The issue upon which Lapid and Bennett found common ground was “equality of service” – shorthand for greater chareidi participation in the IDF or national service. Interestingly, in an interview with Mishpacha during the campaign, Bennett did not once mention “equality of service.” He presented himself as someone who would provide Netanyahu’s “backbone” against negotiations leading to a Palestinian terror state.

NEVERTHELESS, Lapid and Bennett definitely tapped into a rich lode of built-up animus towards the chareidi community. One poll during the first round of coalition negotiations showed that Lapid would win the largest number of mandates – 30 – with Netanyahu plunging to 22, if new elections were held. That means the Israeli public – at least in that one-time snapshot – was prepared to contemplate a prime minister with no military or political experience and no substantive expertise, and who did not complete his high school matriculation exams, at a time when the prime minister will be faced with perhaps the most difficult decision ever to face an Israeli prime minister – whether to attack Iran’s nuclear facilities – and have to deal with the possibility of Syria’s vast stores of chemical and biological weapons falling into the hands of Islamic jihadists or being transferred to Hizbullah. Yet somehow chareidi army service trumped those threats to our existence.

My second indication of how deep-seated the resentments run came when I sent a national religious colleague my piece in Mishpacha on the chareidi draft issue. I consider this woman to be Israel’s finest columnist. She always writes in a measured style, building her argument block by block, like the engineer she is by training. I was sure she would approve of my pragmatic argument for allowing processes well under way to develop.

I was wrong. Perhaps she would have agreed five years ago, she wrote, but now she was fed up and fully behind Bennett. Even a statement by Rav Aharon Leib Steinman, shlita, that army service represents a spiritual threat to chareidi recruits – an unassailable sociological fact in the current IDF environment – elicited paroxysms of anger. The evident frustration coming from someone normally so temperate and with a number of chareidi friends clued me in to the depth of feeling in the national religious world.

A third clue. A close friend was in Hadassah Hospital last week with his son. He mentioned to the nurse on duty that there was an overpowering stench in his son’s room coming from the other bed in the room. The nurse snapped at him, “That’s the problem with you people, all you do is take.” My friend, despite his Chassidic dress, happens to be the CEO of an international company and has served in high government posts. I do not know anyone who thinks more about being a Kiddush Hashem in all interactions with non-chareidim. There are always a number of non-religious and national religious Jews, with whom he has developed close relationships, at his smachot. In short, the nurse’s outburst was not provoked by his failure to speak nicely.

IN THE FACE OF SUCH ANIMOSITY, the easiest and most consoling response is to absolve ourselves of all responsibility and dismiss the hatred as that of an am ha’aretz for a talmid chacham or as yet another manifestation of the well-documented desire of the Zionist forefathers to fashion “new Jews” removed from Torah – a goal turned into policy by the Jewish Agency and the fledgling State in its treatment of religious immigrants from Arab lands.

The depth of the proposed cuts in government aid to poor chareidi families and the magnitude of the transformation they seek to effect are more punitive than rational social policy. Families of convicted terrorists, MK Moshe Gafni claimed, will be entitled to social benefits while families of poor avreichim will be denied on the grounds that they are not actively seeking employment. Nor is it possible to justify the decision to cut off all subsidies for foreign students studying at Mir Yeshiva but not for those studying at “Zionist” Kerem B’Yavneh and Shalavim.

Nevertheless, it is worth asking whether there is anything we can do going forward to lessen the hatred. Have we sufficiently shown the secular public that even if few chareidi parents are spending sleepless nights worried about their own children on the front lines that we are deeply concerned with the fate of every Jewish soldier? Have we as a community internalized the sensitivity to the feelings of our fellow Jews of Rabbi Chaim Shmuelewitz, who refused to let Mirrer bochurim spend more than the briefest time outside of the beis medrash during the Yom Kippur War, even to look for the dalet minim, in order that no mother of a soldier at the front see yeshiva bochurim looking as if they did not have a care in the world? Did we sufficiently listen to the secular public and try to understand why the slogan “equality of burdens” has such emotional power – the first step in any dialogue? Or did we make things too easy for ourselves by dismissing every complaint as nothing but “hatred of Torah”?

It should hurt us the secular public knows that most chareidi shuls do not recite a special prayer for the safety of soldiers, but nothing of the numerous chareidi chesed organizations, such as Yad Sarah and Ezer M’Tzion, serving the entire population.

THE CHAREIDI PUBLIC is in pain and dread of what lies ahead. But nothing will be gained at this moment by name-calling and giving vent to our own anger. Threats of revenge do not dignify us nor will they avail.

If there is any silver lining in the present situation, it is that the decline in chareidi political power affords new opportunities to meet our fellow Jews on the individual level. Their hatred is not primarily for Torah Jews as individuals, but for the corporate chareidi enterprise represented in the Knesset. Now that we no longer threaten them, they may be more open them to getting behind the stereotypes that fuel the animus. On a one-to-one basis, we can show them what Torah means to us, what we are prepared to sacrifice for it, and what it might mean for them as well.

Every interaction with a non-chareidi Jew is an opportunity to change pre-conceptions, and we should seek out those opportunities. The chavrusa programs of Kesher Yehudi and Ayelet HaShachar are one such opportunity.

Over the last decade, the Karlin-Stolin community, led by the Rebbe himself, has hosted between 10-15,000 Jews in small groups for Shabbos meals. Last week, one of the Torah flyers distributed in national religious synagogues on leil Shabbos included a letter from a waiter at Shabbos gathering of 370 Karlin-Stolin chassidim. He wrote of the warmth and respect the chassidim showed him, of how they saved a seat for him at the table and invited him to join them in their dancing, of how they washed so neatly so as to minimize the clean-up.

“Shabbos ended and so did all my stereotypes,” the waiter wrote. So moved was the waiter that he called the Rebbe himself, who cried with joy and exclaimed, “That’s how I educated them for decades — in ahavas Yisrael and mutual respect.”

An example worth emulating.

This article first appeared in Mishpacha.

It could have been much worse. Hence, the sigh of relief. Non-charedi Israels were determined to address the financial burden they believe is placed upon them by a huge community that is underemployed and expanding. Something was going to happen. As one major Torah figure said (privately, of course), “After decades of treating them like garbage, we should be surprised when they want to treat us the same way?” Many feared that the plan would be draconian and counterproductive. If it went too far, it would undo all the quiet progress that has already been made providing alternatives for those who do not find it within them to spend their time in productive, full-time learning and want to enter the work-force, or serve in Tzahal. While the public rhetoric in the community strenuously opposes both, literally thousands are voting with their feet. Programs to provide academic and vocational skills to charedi ... Read More >>]]> The coalition government government’s plan for drafting charedim should give rise to some sighs of relief, and some guarded optimism. That is not likely to happen, because it is just not the way charedim in Israel react (at least publicly), and because there are definite grounds for concern.

It could have been much worse. Hence, the sigh of relief. Non-charedi Israels were determined to address the financial burden they believe is placed upon them by a huge community that is underemployed and expanding. Something was going to happen. As one major Torah figure said (privately, of course), “After decades of treating them like garbage, we should be surprised when they want to treat us the same way?” Many feared that the plan would be draconian and counterproductive. If it went too far, it would undo all the quiet progress that has already been made providing alternatives for those who do not find it within them to spend their time in productive, full-time learning and want to enter the work-force, or serve in Tzahal. While the public rhetoric in the community strenuously opposes both, literally thousands are voting with their feet. Programs to provide academic and vocational skills to charedi men and women are booming. The charedi contingent in the army has established itself, although the government’s performance in supporting it has been lackluster. It looked like economics was already forcing change, at a rate that was likely to accelerate. If the government would go too far, it would be taken as a gezeras shmad (which is in fact what one major Israeli Rosh Yeshiva called any plan to draft any number of students) and force all charedim to resist.

This did not happen. Like the plan or not, it does show some serious thought and consideration.

Nothing much happens for four years. Immediately, there are only dark clouds on the horizon for charedim – and many privately see it as the dawning of a brighter day. This minimizes the result of immediate (and even violent) pushback.

An exception, apparently, is that even immediately, anyone over the age of 22 is free to enter the workforce, even if he did not do any army service. We can anticipate that many will take advantage of this offer, and begin the slow process of having Israeli charedim accept what many, if not enough of us, do in the States: that there is room for both learners and earners.

The plan allows future 18 yr old potential inductees some choices. Today, roughly 7000 of those who turn 18 apply for exemptions, and are given them routinely. Starting four years from now, only 1800 top learners will be exempted – but given higher stipends than they are now given! They must stay in full-time learning until age 26, or incur penalties.

Everyone else will have three options. They can join the army for two years (the term of service is being cut down to that from the present three), at higher pay than is now offered. They can opt for serious national service for the same length of time, in the police, fire, or Zaka services – all for lesser pay. They can do none of the above, and continue to learn, but incur financial penalties. So will yeshivos that keep a large percentage of non-servers on their rolls. The Nachal Charedi program will be expanded over the next years in anticipation of the four year mark to make room for two more charedi battalions, including designated training facilities.

In other words, the images we were envisioning of massive arrests won’t happen. Shirking the government demand for sharing the burden of service will not be criminalized. There will be positive inducements to serve, and negative monetary ones for failing to serve. Rather than treat learning with complete contempt (as many here must be true of a secular government), the government will show its regard for traditional Torah learning by rewarding the top 25% of learners, and support them at State expense. This was not the reaction of the Tommy Lapids and his ilk. For whatever reason, the younger Lapid has displayed more diplomacy – and more wisdom.

It could have been much worse. The community will rail against these changes. (One headline read, “Lavan bikeish laakor es hakol! Lavan = Lapid, Bennet, Netanyahu.) Having gotten used to a certain life style for almost seven decades, this should be expected. It will have four years to either undo the “gezerah” if and when the present coalition falls apart, or learn to live with it. That could mean finally conceding (as so many do privately) that many are not cut out for full-time learning. This would bring relief to much of the grinding poverty in the community, and alleviate some of the walking out of frum life by kids going off the derech because they are boxed in by one-size fits all chinuch. Alternatively, the community could decide to swallow the bitter pill and still encourage universal learning, but have to take on the increased costs of paying the fines, probably by more fund-raising trips to America. (Jimmy the Greek’s odds on the latter successfully occurring in today’s economy are not so favorable. Perhaps HKBH Himself will weigh on by turning the economy around, and allowing that possibility!)

The school issue is more ticklish from the standpoint of the extremely anti-secular community in Israel. The government is demanding two and a half hours a day of core curriculum instruction. Schools which do not provide it will now be denied funds. Again, this becomes a funding crisis rather than grounds for a holy war against the nouveau-Czarist agents set to padlock the doors of the chadorim.

Again, it could have been handled more stupidly.

Many in the States (depending on where they daven) will be hard-pressed to find these measures as objectionable as people in Israel. Many undoubtedly will join the mourning, but others will daven that these measures will be successful in solving the growing problem of poverty and the burden that the charedi community is perceived to place on unwilling Israelis. Many will look expectantly to the building of a society in which the Torah community is seen as having the best and most attractive approach to living a meaningful life, attentive to all normal human needs.

Even the most optimistic should see that significant dangers lurk ahead. Those who think the new program completely understandable should still admit the possibility that future measures might be imposed that push ever more forcefully to make Torah authority and the Torah lifestyle take a back seat relative to the demands of the State. While we should not be overly rejectionist, we cannot afford to be naïve either.

Another danger is more insidious. The choosing of the 1800 yearly exemptions may go the same way as the reaction to the hated Cantonist draft of the Czars. Some rabbonim at the time excelled in their fairness in guarding the vulnerable, like the orphan children who were targets for the khappers (kidnappers paid off by the wealthy to secure replacements for their own children to escape the draft.) Others were not effective. If Roshei Yeshiva protect their own children and sons-in-law from service, or if there is significant infighting and no objective standard in choosing the 1800 elite on the basis of merit, it will bring down the charedi world faster than any universal draft could.

We all need much siyata deShamaya in charting our reactions in the next weeks and the course in the upcoming four years.

Like Dayeinu.

On the surface, it is a simple song – a recitation of events of Divine kindness over the course of Jewish history, from the Egyptian exodus until the Jewish arrival in the Holy Land – with the refrain “Dayeinu”: “It would have been enough for us.” It is a puzzling chorus, and everyone who has ever thought about Dayeinu has asked the obvious question.

Would it really have “been enough for us” had G-d not, say, split the Red Sea, trapping our ancestors between the water and the Egyptian army? Some take the approach that another miracle could have taken place to save the Jews, but that seems to weaken the import of the refrain. And then there are the other lines: “Had G-d not sustained us in the desert” – enough for us? “Had He not given us the Torah.” Enough? What are we saying?

Contending that we don’t really mean “Dayeinu” when we say it, that we only intend to declare how undeserving of all G-d’s kindnesses we are, is the ... Read More >>]]> Much of our Seder-night message to our children, mediated by the Haggadah, is forthright and clear. Some of it, though, is subtle and stealthy.

Like Dayeinu.

On the surface, it is a simple song – a recitation of events of Divine kindness over the course of Jewish history, from the Egyptian exodus until the Jewish arrival in the Holy Land – with the refrain “Dayeinu”: “It would have been enough for us.” It is a puzzling chorus, and everyone who has ever thought about Dayeinu has asked the obvious question.

Would it really have “been enough for us” had G-d not, say, split the Red Sea, trapping our ancestors between the water and the Egyptian army? Some take the approach that another miracle could have taken place to save the Jews, but that seems to weaken the import of the refrain. And then there are the other lines: “Had G-d not sustained us in the desert” – enough for us? “Had He not given us the Torah.” Enough? What are we saying?

Contending that we don’t really mean “Dayeinu” when we say it, that we only intend to declare how undeserving of all G-d’s kindnesses we are, is the sort of answer children view with immediate suspicion and make faces at.

One path, though, toward understanding Dayeinu might lie in remembering that a proven method of engaging the attention of a child – or even an ex-child – is to hide one’s message, leaving hints for its discovery. Could Dayeinu be hiding something significant –in fact, in plain sight?

Think of those images of objects or words that require time for the mind to comprehend, simply because the gestalt is not immediately absorbed; one aspect alone is perceived at first, although another element may be the key to the image’s meaning, and emerge only later.

Dayeinu may be precisely such a puzzle. And its solution might lie in the realization that one of the song’s recountings is in fact not followed by the refrain at all. Few people can immediately locate it, but it’s true: One of the events listed is pointedly not followed by the word “dayeinu.”

Can you find it? Or have the years of singing Dayeinu after a cup of wine obscured the obvious? You might want to ask a child, more able for the lack of experience. I’ll wait…

…Welcome back. You found it, of course: the very first phrase in the poem.

Dayeinu begins: “Had He taken us out of Egypt…” That phrase – and it alone – is never qualified with a “dayeinu.” It never says, “Had You not taken us out of Egypt it would have been enough for us. For, simply put, there then wouldn’t have been an “us.”

The exodus is, so to speak, a “non-negotiable.” It was the singular, crucial, transformative point in Jewish history, when we Jews became a people, with all the special interrelationship that peoplehood brings. Had Jewish history ended with starvation in the desert, or even at battle at an undisturbed Red Sea, it would have been, without doubt, a terrible tragedy, the cutting down of a people just born – but still, the cutting down of a people, born. The Jewish nation, the very purpose of creation (“For the sake of Israel,” as the Midrash comments on the first word of the Torah, “did G-d create the heavens and the earth”), would still have existed, albeit briefly.

And our nationhood, of course, is precisely what we celebrate on Passover. When the Torah recounts the wicked son’s question (Exodus12:26) it records that the Jews responded by bowing down in thanksgiving. What were they thankful for? The news that they would sire wicked descendants?

The Hassidic sage Rabbi Shmuel Bornstein (1856-1926), known as the “Shem MiShmuel,” explains that the very fact that the Torah considers the wicked son to be part of the Jewish People, someone who needs and merits a response, was the reason for the Jews’ joy. When we were merely a family of individuals, each member stood or fell on his own merits. Yishmael was Avraham’s son, and Esav was Yitzchak’s. But neither they nor their descendents merited to become parts of the Jewish People. That people was forged from Yaakov’s family, at the exodus from Egypt.

That now, after the exodus, even a “wicked son” would be considered a full member of the Jewish People indicated to our ancestors that something had radically changed since pre-Egyptian days. The people had become a nation. And that well merited an expression of thanksgiving.

And so the subtle message of Dayeinu may be precisely that: The sheer indispensability of the Exodus – its importance beyond even the magnitude of all the miracles that came to follow.

If so, then for centuries upon centuries, that sublime thought might have subtly accompanied the strains of spirited “Da-Da-yeinu’s,” ever so delicately yet ever so ably entering new generations of Jewish minds and hearts, without their owners necessarily even realizing the message they absorbed.

©Rabbi Avi Shafran

For this essay, other essays and more, please visit rabbiavishafran.com .

Like everything else about this beautiful country, special Jewish touches put everything in a different perspective. The city center is festooned with signs and American flags. The municipality would like the city to sparkle. Or at least not do the opposite. It has been stymied in this effort, however, by the fact that there is far more garbage overflowing the bins than at other times. There is nothing they can do about Pesach cleaning. It seems that everybody is cleaning for Pesach, and the signs of all that labor are evident in the street.

Another topic of conversation is the Presidential menu. He is staying at the King David. Some things take priority even over the President of the United StaTES. The kitchen has already been turned over for Pesach, and the President will not be able to eat chametz.

It is not clear yet whether he will eat gebrockts.

As to how my website comports with the Agudath Israel’s policy of not maintaining a website of its own, I want to state clearly that my site is, as its name conveys, an entirely personal venture. The Gedolim to which the Agudah looks for guidance have expressed their feeling that an Agudah website might be seen as a “hechsher” of the Internet, and thus would be irresponsible. I still serve as the Agudah’s director of public affairs but I also write and comment as an individual; and the site reflects that latter fact alone.

To clarify some other issues about which I’ve been asked: The site’s homepage will feature the weekly essays I have distributed for nearly 15 years, which are also posted here on Cross-Currents. There is no charge, of course, for either reading or sharing those essays ... Read More >>]]> I have been asked how my recent establishment of a personal website comports with my often-voiced disdain for blogs that exist only to derogate others, spread loshon horah and rechilus, attack the Jewish mesorah and belittle the Torah leadership of our time. My answer is simple: I have not done, and will not do, any of those things.

As to how my website comports with the Agudath Israel’s policy of not maintaining a website of its own, I want to state clearly that my site is, as its name conveys, an entirely personal venture. The Gedolim to which the Agudah looks for guidance have expressed their feeling that an Agudah website might be seen as a “hechsher” of the Internet, and thus would be irresponsible. I still serve as the Agudah’s director of public affairs but I also write and comment as an individual; and the site reflects that latter fact alone.

To clarify some other issues about which I’ve been asked: The site’s homepage will feature the weekly essays I have distributed for nearly 15 years, which are also posted here on Cross-Currents. There is no charge, of course, for either reading or sharing those essays with others, although I have instituted a small per-essay charge for for-profit print media re-publication of the pieces. I will also post occasional short “musings” on my website’s homepage that will not appear elsewhere, like this.

Chag kasher visame’ach!