Bread And Butter Orthodoxy – Rabbi Barry Gelman

February 16, 2010

Modern Orthodox Jews have a tendency to offer pronouncements on controversial issues. Some of those issues are the definition of orthodox, the ordination of orthodox women and the place of homosexuals in the orthodox community.

As I have noted before, it seems that these issues and other “hot button” items exercise the emotions of many within the modern orthodox camp. These issues are important; my concern is that they tend to overshadow the “bread and butter” of Orthodox Judaism.

There are many who are quick to make bold statements on either side of the big issues, but who are silent and absent when it comes to Tefilla B’ Tzibbur (davening with a minyan each day) and regular Torah study.

There are two things about this pretense that concern me.

  1. It does not ring true: Our brothers and sisters to our right mock us (rightfully?) when we pronounce on issues while we do not “walk the walk” of Orthodoxy. What good is all the talk if our Modern Orthodox statements are not backed up by Orthodox living?

 

  1. We believe our own hype: Spending our time making declaration on these issues blinds us from the more important fundamental aspects of Orthodox life and leave us believing that as long as we are on the correct side of the argument on the cutting edge issue, even as we fail to excel in the primary and essential aspects of Judaism, we are OK.

We need to redirect our energies so others will take us seriously and so we can take ourselves seriously.


Taking a Critical View at Modern Orthodoxy, by Rabbi Asher Lopatin

August 3, 2009

Rabbi Asher Lopatin calls for Modern Orthodoxy to embrace Torah halachic rigor and fidelity to tradition as the third pillar of contemporary Orthodox Judaism.

Friends,

A few weeks ago I started outlining what I see as five pillars of contemporary Orthodox Judaism. I am not trying to displace the Maimonidian 13 principles of faith, nor the four principles of Rav Yosef Albo. I’m just trying to point out what I think are the key ingredients in being an Orthodox Jew today – and in maintaining our way of life for the future. The past few weeks have been particularly difficult, at least in the media, for our Chareidi brothers and sisters, and I have certainly done my share to point out the challenges I believe they face in working to sanctify God’s name. However, we Morethodox Jews have to look inwards as well, and I think the third pillar of Orthodoxy might serve also as a critique of Modern Orthodox Jews – at least in the way we normally see ourselves. The other two principles, Torah from Sinai and Innovation (Chiddush) from Sinai, are great rallying cries for Modern Orthodoxy. But now #3:

Intellectual and halachic rigor and discipline: When we closely observe our detailed laws of Kashrut, of davening, coming to minyan and making sure there is a minyan in our communities, of kavana (concentration, focus) in our davening , of the Shabbat, as it is expressed in its myriad of rituals and ethical aspects, of family purity in its own ritual and social aspects, the laws of gossiping and loving our fellow Jews and respecting our fellow human beings, then we become the vessels through which Torah can be interpreted and even rethought. The Netziv puts it in terms of the two words: “Lishmor ve’la’asot” – from Parshat Va’etchanan: We need to first be the preservers of the Torah and practice we inherit from the previous generation, then we can move on to relooking at everything with fresh, innovative eyes, and understand Torah for our generation. When we are preservers of Torah and Torah practice, then we become safe space for God’s infinite word – we become the rightful heirs of the tradition which we are obliged to re-examine for ourselves. Only through this rigor and commitment to Halacha, minhag (custom) and tradition can our lives reflect the living Torah which God gave us at Sinai.

Do we as Modern Orthodox Jews have this religious rigor in our lives? Do we have the passion? I think we see it in the Chareidi and Yeshivish world, but we need to see it in our world. MOREthodox – we have to be the one that are not only innovative, creative and responsive to our generation’s needs, we also have to be the ones that people can look to for all the strength that has come down to us from Moshe and Sinai.

I know that is an area that I work on, and perhaps in Israel our Modern Orthodox brothers and sisters do it better. But we have to make sure that Modern Orthodoxy is not lazy Orthodoxy. If it is, we will lose our right to be the innovators of Torah and we will lose our right to redefine what a Torah Jew is in 2009.

Let’s go to work!

Asher Lopatin


Orthodoxy and Diversity: How Open Should Our Communities Be?

June 12, 2009

Orthodoxy, in that it is a term coined and way of being formed in response to the European enlightenment’s openness to new ideas, is by definition something that has walls and limits, protecting those inside from potential, and perceived potential evils without.  But what happens when those walls keep out important Jewish values such as Jewish unity, loving the Jewish people and one’s neighbors, and engaging all the Jewish people in Jewish life?  To ask the question the opposite way, many Jewish communities claim that being welcoming is of importance, but what happens when welcoming comes up against other values such as fears of the slippery slope of approval of things we may not want to approve of, or feel Judaism should not condone?

For instance, if an intermarried family wanted to be part of our shul would we let them?   Where would we draw the line?  Could they have a family membership?  An aliyah?  Could the non-Jewish spouse if it was a man have peticha (opening the ark) or gelilah (rolling up the torah), honors  that do not technically require one to be Jewish but might, for many Jews, feel like giving tacit approval to someone, all of whose actions the torah may not approve of?   What about fears of legitimating what others are doing and unwittingly putting our approbation on things we do not think are in consonance with Torah, such as driving on Shabbat, gay Jews and their partners, Jews who do not keep kosher or pay their taxes?  Should we welcome all of them?

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What motivates us?

June 10, 2009

Posted by Rabbi Yosef Kanefsky

 

Why should we observe Shabbat? Or daven? Or put on tefillin, or eat only kosher, or follow the laws of niddah?   It’s gradually been occurring to me over the last year or two,  that within the Modern Orthodox world in which I live and teach, the answers to these questions have been shifting. In theory, the answer to any of these questions should start with the words, “because this is what God has commanded us to do”.  Sure, additional explanations might then be offered as to why God commanded us to do this, and further discussion might then be had about the benefits that result from the observance of this mitzvah, but it’s the fact that it was commanded by God that would seem to be the sole required element of the answer.

 

I derive this conclusion from the discussion in Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chaim 60) which presents the debate as to whether or not the performance of mitzvoth requires kavannah, and proceeds to conclude that they do. What sort of kavannah is it that is crucial to the validity of mitzva performance? The Mishna Brura explains that while it is of course preferable to have kavannah concerning the nature and purpose of the particular mitzvah at hand, this is not the sort of kavannah that the Shulchan Aruch is discussing. The mandated minimal kavannah rather, is the kavannah “to fulfill through this act that which God has commanded” (Mishna Brura #7).

 

Increasingly though, I am finding myself discussing mitzvot,  and the reasons we should do them,  in terms of ideas that the Shulchan Aruch might classify  as “secondary”. We talk about observing Shabbat in terms of the benefit that it brings to us and to our families within these frenetic, technology-driven, over-programmed lives that we lead.  Yes we know of course, that God commanded us to do this. And yes, we are thankful to God for having given us the Shabbat. But the primary motivation does not seem to be framed in terms of command. The same is true for discussions about kashrut (“holy discipline within the world of material over-indulgence”), or about the recitation of brachot (“continuous God-consciousness in a secular world”). And I don’t think that my experience in teaching and thinking in this way is unique.

 

Why this shift in how we talk about the reasons we do mitzvot?  Is it all a part of the modern (post-modern? Who can keep up?) search for meaning? Does the idea of having been commanded by God subconsciously run too contrary to our autonomy-loving grain to be sufficiently motivating?  As scientists and rationalists, are we compensating for our leaps of faith in God and Torah through a ruthless devotion to establishing rational explanations for all of the mitzvot we do?

 

And in the final analysis is being motivated to observe the laws of niddah, for example, by the benefits it will bring in the area of non-sexual marital communication, in violation of the Shulchan Aruch’s directive? Are we doing something wrong in approaching mitzvot in this way? Or as long as we are acknowledging that God has in fact commanded us to do these things, can we still say that we are intending  “to fulfill through this act that which God has commanded” even when this is not the motivation per se?

I’d love to hear what you think!


Breadth and Depth, Openness and Passion

June 5, 2009

Morethodoxy.  One more label to add to an already thinly divided Jewish world?

In subtitling our blog “Exploring the Breadth, Depth and Passion of Orthodox Judaism,” I think we aim to overcome the limitations that labels impose.  To see Jewish life not as it often is seen today as a linear spectrum from insular to open, tolerant to judgmental, committed to uncaring; but with the complexity and subtlety that “divarim sh’omdim b’rumo shel olam,” things upon which the world hangs, require.

Moving away from labels and defined Jewish groupings can help us be open to the treasures within each Jewish community that can help us serve God, while identifying the weaknesses of each community or theology and setting those aside. 

For instance, the strength of more insular “Charedi” Orthodox communities is their passion.   One learns a lot of Torah when it is undiluted by time studying about the world in a university; one is little influenced by the beckoning of secular society’s evil inclination if one is wholly separate from it.   Payer in Charedi circles, especially Hassidic ones, is often passionate, focused and fervent.  We must learn from these strengths and adopt them.

On the other hand there are the weaknesses of more insular Orthodox communities.  They can not benefit fully from the wonders of Gods universe since they do not study about them in depth (which Maimonides says brings us to love God).  They can not fully welcome the Jewish people into Judaism since their welcoming is only on their own terms.   They can not fully be a light unto the nations since their interaction with “the nations” is minimal and often rejecting.  

Modern Orthodoxy’s strength lies in its openness to the things listed in the paragraph above and its attempt to synthesis that openness with Torah.   But its weaknesses are many.   There is a widespread lack of passion in prayer.  To be present in a Modern Orthodox synagogue during prayer is sometimes to wonder who people are conversing with, God or their neighbors.  The Kiddush club, a phenomenon which afflicts some modern orthodox synagogues on Sabbath morning in which members leave the service to drink alcohol and eat a meal instead of listening to the full Torah service.  

I would propose that Morethodoxy be a philosophy of taking the ochel (the edible) and leaving the p’solet (the shell).  Of integrating both, breadth and depth, openness and passion. 

Let us be passionate in Torah study, and open to all tools possible in pluming its depths, from biblical criticism to kabbalah.   

Let us be passionate in prayer, and open to studying the works of Rabbi Nachaman on utilizing meditation and nature to find God, perhaps even open to learning from non-Jewish instruction about kavanah, and a thousand years of eastern meditative practice.   

Let us be passionate about protecting our children and ourselves from the materialism and superficial values so prominent in the wider culture, and open in the extreme to all our brethren the Jewish people and to our cousins the non-Jewish world.   Let us be so passionate about welcoming and loving others that the homeless person who wanders into our house of worship feels like one of us.  

Let us be passionate about connecting to God so that there is no idle chatter in our shuls, and open, even in the middle of prayer as Abraham was, to any new person that walks into shul.