Yet, we occasionally read these days of “Orthodox” Jews who molest, steal, rob, murder, assault, spit and curse at women and little children, set fire to businesses they disfavor for one reason or another, eschew self-support, brawl, intimidate and terrorize other Jews, or are otherwise genuinely disagreeable people. So what is it that makes those people “Orthodox,” or, even holier in the public mind, “ultra-Orthodox”?

The costume they wear.

It is a mistake that is made not only by a hostile media but also by the Jewish public, including the religious Jewish public. To our detriment, we define people by their costumes – e.g., long black coats, white shirts, beards and sometimes peyot – and we ourselves create expectations of conduct based on the costume that is being worn, as if the costume necessarily penetrates to the core of the individual and can somehow mold his character and classify his spiritual state – as if the costume really means anything at all.

If the events in Bet Shemesh or elsewhere in Israel rectify that mistake once and for all, some unanticipated good would have emerged from the contentiousness.

This is more than simply stating that any “Orthodox” Jew who sins is by definition not an “Orthodox Jew.” In truth, that statement is flawed and illogical, because all people sin; the truly “Orthodox” Jew might be one of the few who still actually believe in sin – stumbling before the divine mandate – and still seek to eradicate it by perfecting himself and struggling with his nature.

But the Torah Jew is defined by a core set of beliefs, principles and religious practices. One who subscribes to that core set is Orthodox notwithstanding any personal failings he has, failings which according to the Torah he must strive to reduce and diminish. No Jew – Rabbi or layman – is allowed to carve for himself exemptions from any mitzva. That is why deviations like the female rabbi, the dilution of the bans on homosexuality, the purported officiation by an “Orthodox” rabbi at a same-sex wedding, the relentless search for obscure leniencies in order to rationalize improper conduct, and other such anomalies drew such swift and heated reactions from the mainstream Orthodox world. The violent and criminal excesses in Israel have drawn similar rebukes but the thought still lingers: why do we even expect decorous and appropriate conduct from people who are perceived as thugs even within their own community, and who have literally threatened with violence some who would criticize them publicly? Because of the costume they wear.

Many of the brutes of Bet Shemesh have been widely identified as part of the sect known as Toldos Aharon (Reb Arele’s Chasidim).* The thumbnail sketch by which they are known always includes the declaration that they “deny the legitimacy of the State of Israel,” which in today’s world should be – and largely is – identical to being a member of the Flat Earth Society. They are “devoted to the study of Torah,” reputedly. Really ? What is the nature of their Torah study ? Are they Brisker thinkers, analytical and questioning, or are they more akin to another Chasidic sect, whose rebbe famously discouraged learning Torah b’iyun (in depth) because he claimed such distances the student from Divine service ? (That rebbi preferred a superficial and speedy reading of the words of the Gemara as the ideal form of Talmud Torah. And it shows.)

But what most identifies Toldos Aharon is…their costume. This, from Wikipedia: “In Jerusalem, married men wear white and grey “Zebra” coats during the week and golden bekishes/Caftan (coats) on Shabbos. Toldos Aharon and Toldos Avrohom Yitzchok are the only groups where boys aged 13 and older (bar mitzvah) wear the golden coat and a shtreimel, as married men do; however, married men can be differentiated by their white socks, while the unmarried boys wear black socks. In other Hasidic groups, only married men wear a shtreimel. All boys and men wear a traditional Jerusalemite white yarmulke. Unmarried boys wear a regular black coat with attached belt on weekdays, unlike the married men, who wear the “Zebra” style coat.”

Does any of this sartorial splendor have the slightest connection to Torah, to Orthodoxy, to living a complete Jewish life, to true divine service ? Memo to real world: there is no such concept as authentic Jewish dress. The Gemara (Shabbat 113a) states that Rav Yochanan would call his clothing “the things that honor me” (mechabduti) – but the Gemara does not see fit to even describe his clothing in the slightest fashion. Jewish dress is dignified and distinguished, clean and neat.  We are especially obligated to wear special and beautiful clothing throughout Shabbat (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 262:2-3). But beyond the tzitzit and the kippa for men, and modesty for all, there is no such thing as Jewish dress, the prevalence of contrary popular opinion notwithstanding. We are never told what Moshe, Ezra, Rabbi Akiva or the Rambam wore, and we are informed that one reason the Jews merited redemption from Egyptian because “they did not change their garb” (i.e., they did not adopt Egyptian styles) – but we are never informed what kind of clothing they did wear. Why ? Because it doesn’t matter one whit.

A sect that obsesses so much on clothing that it distinguishes the married and the unmarried by the type of socks they wear, and insists that everyone wear the same two coats, is not practicing a form of Judaism, in that respect, that is either traditional or brings honor and glory to the Creator. It is a practice that is not designed to induce others to gush about what a “wise and understanding people” we are. They are rather fabricating artificial distinctions between Jews – likely in order to foster cohesion within their small group, ward off outsiders, and better exercise mind control over their adherents. It is no wonder that such a group is not responsive to any known Rabbinic authority – not even the Edah HaChareidis – nor is it any surprise that the sect’s deviations from Judaism can be so repugnant to all Jews and all civilized people.  Surely there is more to prepare for in marriage than simply the acquisition of different color socks.

One can search in vain the Torah, the Talmud, the Rambam, the Shulchan Aruch and the classic works of our modern era for any guidelines similar to what appears above. If these hooligans wore modern garb, we would not hesitate for a moment to denounce them, to agonize over how it is they left the derech, over the failings of their parenting and education, and probably over the high cost of tuition and the toll joblessness is taking on the Jewish family. That the reaction of many to this criminal behavior is less shrill is attributable to but one cause: the costume. For some odd reason, we expect more.

We assume the costume mandates fidelity to halacha and engenders considerate and refined conduct. It doesn’t. It is unrelated. It is irrelevant to spirituality. It says nothing – nothing – about a person’s religiosity. I have dealt several times with conversion candidates who insisted on wearing Chasidic dress – who had beards, peyot, long black coats, white shirts, would never wear a tie, and wouldn’t even hold from the eruv – but they were still non-Jews. In the shuls where they davened while studying for conversion, members wondered why these frum-looking men never accepted kibbudim (honors). They didn’t, for one reason: they were not yet Jews. They just thought they were wearing the costume of Jews.

All the lamenting and hand-wringing is partially warranted, and partially misplaced. Partially warranted because we have for too long tolerated discourteous, larcenous and vicious conduct among people who self-identify because of their “dress” as religious Jews – the consistent rudeness, the unseemly “bargaining” that occurs when a bill is due, and, as one extreme example, the recent arson at Manny’s. (Manny’s is a popular religious book store in Me’ah She’arim that carried a great variety of sefarim –  including mine – that was targeted by similar violent groups for carrying “disapproved books.” The store was set on fire a few months ago, and the owners largely caved to the pressure.) None of that is “Orthodox” behavior in the slightest. And it is partially misplaced because we play the game by their rules when we gauge people’s spiritual potential – or even spiritual level – based of the coat, hat, yarmulke, shoes, socks, shirt, pants or belt that they wear. It not only sounds insane, but it is insane, and it should be stopped. No one is more religious because he wears black or less religious because he wears blue or brown.

We would never consider people who habitually violate Shabbat, Kashrut, etc. as Orthodox. We should never consider people who are routinely brutal and abusive, or have disdain – even hatred – for all other Jews outside their small sect – as Orthodox either. They embrace certain Mitzvot and dismiss others, as well as ignore fundamental Jewish values. Certainly – traditional disclaimer – these goons are but a miniscule, atypical, unrepresentative, extremist, outlier group unrelated to the greater Charedi community that is only now awakening to the dangers within.

Nonetheless, even the greater community would benefit if they too began to de-emphasize the “costume” as at all meaningful or indicative of anything substantive. The Sages state (see Tosafot, Shabbat 49a) that the custom to wear tefilin the entire day lapsed because of the “deceivers.” (One who wore tefillin all day was reputed to be trustworthy, until the thieves learned that trick and used their “tefillin” to swindle others.) Those who reduce Judaism to externals necessarily exaggerate the importance of the costume, and naturally provoke those common misperceptions that cause the Ultra-Distorters to be deemed “Ultra-Orthodox.”

Would we make great progress in the maturation of the Jewish world if a blue suit occasionally appeared in the Charedi or Yeshivish wardrobe ? Perhaps. But we would certainly undo the inferences that attach to certain types of dress that leave many Orthodox Jews wrongly embarrassed and ashamed of the behavior of “people like us.” They are not like us. We must love them as we would any wayward Jew, and rebuke them as we would any wayward Jew. Even wayward Jews wear costumes.

Then we can promulgate the new fashion styles – the new uniform – of the Torah Jew, where beauty, righteousness and piety are determined by what is inside – not what is on the outside – by deeds and Torah commitment and not by appearances.

May we never again hear someone say that “X looks frum.” No one can “look” frum; one can only “be” frum, which itself is not as admirable as being erliche. That lack of sophistication is atrocious, embarrassing, and corrosive to Jewish life and distorts the Torah beyond recognition. We know better than that, and we are better than that. In a free society, anyone can dress exactly like others or unlike others if he so chooses. But it says nothing about their values, only about their identification with one group or another. We should stop trusting people simply because they don black coats, black hats, and wear beards – or, for that matter, kippot serugot. All are costumes. None convey any real truths about the real person.

The true measure of every Jew – and every person – is always within.

RSP- For another perspective on this issue, please read the following at: http://www.cross-currents.com/archives/2011/12/29/welcoming-the-charedi-spring/#ixzz1iP31ZbUB

*I have seen one report attributing the violence to Toldos Aharon adherents, and another that Toldos Aharon is uninvolved. If they are indeed uninvolved, then I retract the reference to them and apologize. – RSP

But now they’ve gone too far. This week, they published an account of a Jewish leader, righteous and decent but grieving over some family tragedies, who catches the eye of a courtesan at the crossroads and hires her services. When he unable to pay cash up front, the wench takes some of his property as a pledge and then disappears. But at the end of the story, the nobleman saves her from certain death by owning up to his moment of weakness.  Another sordid tale ostensibly with a moral message…

Wait, that wasn’t the Beacon – that was the Torah in Parshat Vayeishev and the episode of Yehuda and Tamar! And the light of the Messiah entered the world.

So what do we make of these stories? The media focused on its obsession – freedom of the press and censorship – and whether Modern Orthodoxy is too modern – when, to me, the real story was elsewhere. How do we discuss sensitive, delicate, even prurient matters? In fourth grade, we just skipped over the story of Yehuda and Tamar; that’s one approach. It doesn’t work well. How can you transmit values when the subject matter, or the application of those values, are taboo, and unmentionable? Granted, despite the anonymous author’s best efforts, the average commercial on television is more risqué and suggestive than this short story; and granted, I can see why the “Yeshiva” side of the YU ledger was offended.

But there is, unfortunately, a seamy corner of the Jewish world that we would do well not pretending that it does not exist. It exists – it exists because the culture is that decadent, and because young people looking for love, attention and respect often seek it in the wrong places and in the wrong activities – and they wind up without love or respect, although they do capture the attention, temporarily at least, of the exploiters and predators.

It exists in our colleges – whether YU or Stern and certainly in secular colleges – and it exists in the holy Yeshivos where only men learn, and where we presume, falsely, that they are shielded from the world’s tawdriness. They are, for the most part, but not entirely, human beings being human beings. It exists in our high schools – with young men and women pretending they are adults having real relationships, and even teachers, administrators, and Rebbeim acting inappropriately and sometimes criminally. It exists in the self-styled holiest neighborhoods of Lakewood and Borough Park, and it exists in the self-styled modern, sophisticated neighborhoods like Teaneck and the Five Towns. We usually are forced to deal with it when we hear of arrests for abuse and molestation – dozens in certain communities in recent years – and when we learn that some of our teens and young adults have lost all sense of boundaries and propriety. We ignore it at our peril.

We ignore it because we are uncomfortable talking about it. We would rather skip this story of Yehuda and Tamar.  We would rather believe that our children going off to high school and college are as pure and naïve and darling as they were at their Bar/Bat Mitzvot. We would rather that the Messiah descends from Heaven in a chariot than have him born as a result of this dissolute rendezvous.

The Torah conceals little about human life from us – and we are forced to reckon with Lot and his daughters, Yehuda and Tamar, Zimri and Cozbi, and later with King David and Bat Sheva and a host of other stories. I too was scandalized, until I actually saw the story – an effective if contrived way to raise a pressing social issue with a challenge at the beginning and a lesson at the end. “How Do I Begin To Explain This?,” the title, introduces the anticipation and the excitement – but the story ends with the ill-disguised indifference felt by the man towards his trophy-person and the self-loathing of the women – now forced to do the “walk of shame” for selling herself so cheaply, ‘a “stupid mistake.” As Rav Kahana said in the Gemara in a not-unrelated context: “this too is Torah and I have to learn it” (Berachot 62a).

Ultimately, the problem rests not in censorship or permissiveness, but in failures of education and parenting – a failure to transmit our values and to convey our way of grappling with desire and gratification. We have to overcome the fear of discussing those very issues that can be the most troublesome but in the long term the most spiritually rewarding. It is only the areas in which we struggle that true spiritual greatness emerges.

If it causes one woman to retain her dignity and say “no,” the article was worth it. If the discussions of the seamier side of Jewish life cause even one young victim of abuse to turn to his/her parents and then immediately to the police, then the discussions were worth it. And if we debate amongst ourselves the propriety of the Torah’s inclusion of the story of Yehuda and Tamar, then we will not only fail to understand how the moral greatness of Yehuda and the persistence of Tamar were indispensable for the destiny of Israel – we will also not  perceive how amid all the tumult and sadness and recriminations surrounding the event, “G-d was busy as well creating the light of the King Messiah” (Breisheet Rabba 85:1), that will soon illuminate all of mankind.

Bear in mind that until 1913, Senators were not elected by popular vote but were appointed by each state legislature. Thus the Senate was perceived more as a House of Lords than directly reflective of the people’s will, and many have argued – rightly so – that the caliber of Senator was much higher before he had to seek election like lesser politicians. (Kennedy himself almost concedes as much.) Most of the “courageous” Senators were then offending not their political bases – the citizens – but the small cadre of voters in the respective legislatures. And yet each acted in accordance with their consciences in defiance of the perceived wisdom and judgment of the time, and even when Kennedy admits that they might have been wrong (each decision was either appropriately liberal or too liberal) the courage they displayed was itself admirable.

Several Senators were caught in the maelstrom of the slavery debate – Daniel Webster, eloquent abolitionist acceding to the continuation of the Fugitive Slave Laws; Thomas Hart Benton, a staunch Southerner, agreeing to the non-extension of slavery to new states and territories – both in order to ensure the passing of the Compromise of 1850 to avert secession and civil war, and both vilified for it. Neither was a shrinking violent. Webster was one of the great orators of all time (without speechwriter or teleprompter), mesmerizing the audience with a speech on this occasion that schoolchildren were taught for decades and knowing he would be denounced by his strongest supporters. Benton – well, Benton can speak for himself. To another Senator:  “I never quarrel, sir. But sometimes I fight, sir; and whenever I fight, sir, a funeral follows, sir.”

Edmund Ross of Kansas – a bitter foe of President Andrew Johnson – nevertheless cast the decisive vote (against the will of his state and his own expressed determination to rid the country of that “traitor” to the South) that acquitted Johnson in his impeachment trial, simply because Ross felt the evidence to convict was insufficient. He was threatened (telegram from 1000 Kansans: “Kansas has heard the evidence and demands the conviction of the President;” Ross’ reply: “I do not recognize your right to demand that I vote either for or against conviction. I have taken an oath to do impartial justice according to the Constitution and laws, and trust that I shall have the courage to vote according to the dictates of my judgment and for the highest good of the country.”) He was offered a bribe of $20,000. (“There is a bushel of money! How much does the damned scoundrel want ?”) He voted “not guilty.” Friends offered him their pistols so he could shoot himself. He saved the Presidency, and perhaps the nation still torn by the aftermath of the Civil War, but was rejected for re-election and sentenced to a life of near-poverty.

Similarly, Mississippi’s Lucius Quintus Cincinnatus Lamar voted to accept the Commission Report that awarded the disputed presidential election of 1876 to Rutherford Hayes – anathema to the South. He too was subsequently reviled, as was George Norris, Republican of Nebraska, who voted against America’s entry into World War I, and Robert Taft (who died just a few years before the book was published), Mr. Republican of Ohio, who sabotaged his own presidential ambitions by opposing the Nuremberg Trials as ex post facto justice and a perversion of American ideals.

The common denominators were that they followed their consciences, an inner sense of right and wrong that transcended both party and crass political considerations, and displayed the sort of audacity that is both uncommon and unexpected today.

Kennedy wrote (again, it was 1955!): “Our political life is becoming so expensive, so mechanized and so dominated by professional politicians and public relations men that the idealist who dreams of independent statesmanship  is rudely awakened by the necessities of election and accomplishment.” It is a point well taken, exacerbated today because every politician’s every statement, musing, thought, decision or promise is recorded for all eternity, to be played over and over again by the mass media if he deviates one iota. He advocates what has become exceedingly rare today – the elected official who does not reflect public opinion in every vote but sees himself as elected by the people to vote his conscience and exercise his judgment, not theirs. But even Kennedy admits that might easily be a formula for electoral defeat – in which case what has the person really accomplished ? He might have been able to make a greater difference, even better serve the people, if he compromised on some issues in order to attain his cherished objectives.

Therein lies the irony of his theme as it relates to today’s politics. The lament of the Obama White House and the Democrat establishment is that the Republicans “refuse to compromise.” I.e., the Republicans  – in large part, although not completely and not all of them sincerely – refuse to continue being the “tax collectors for the welfare state” (as Newt Gingrich – a name back in the news – once famously derided the Bob Dole Republicans). There has always been an expectation in Washington that when all the shouting and screaming stopped and all the name-calling subsided, both parties would come to their “senses” and raise taxes and distribute the burgeoning government pie to their favored constituencies.

But that “courage to compromise” is really cowardice, as well as a classic example of failed politicians who do not act in the public interest but simply see the levers of government as their ticket to re-election, power and wealth. The Tea Party has tried to end that, to the consternation of official Washington; whether they will succeed or fail (i.e., be corrupted) remains to be seen. It is easy for Republicans to get sucked in to the mindset that the system is broken, so they might as well exploit it for their own purposes – more spending, earmarks, special deals, insider trades, etc. Courage for the Republican is to hold firm, steadfastly refuse to increase taxes or spending, and shrink government. (Americans seem to love “big government,” especially when someone else – the rich! – are paying for it.) But true courage would be a Democrat flouting his party, and voting to decrease spending, limit government’s power, and allow people to exercise personal responsibility over their own lives. That would be courageous, but electorally foolhardy as the Democrat base essentially feeds off the government trough.
For sure, courage comes in many forms and can be found (or missed) in many professions. There are many rabbis who keep silent in the face of adversity, challenges, or assaults on Torah, Israel or the Jewish people simply because it is convenient to remain silent – who will never act until they see who else is acting. They are not leaders in any sense. Kennedy often quoted Dante: “the hottest places in Hell are reserved for those who, in a time of great moral crisis, maintain their neutrality,” or, I suppose, just vote “present” rather than commit themselves.

Conversely, Andrew Jackson was fond of saying, “One man with courage makes a majority.” It is no shame to be a minority in a worthy cause; no human being was ever in a smaller minority that our father Avraham.

But the courageous man is himself a majority, and such can and should be found in every person, every profession and every walk of life, and among good people everywhere.

We expect more, of course, from Jewish media, but without much justification for that sentiment. Thus, many read JTA’s report last week of an “Orthodox Rabbi” officiating at a same-sex marriage in Washington DC. Whatever the rabbi is, and whatever his personal qualities, Orthodox he is not. An avowed homosexual himself, who lives with his partner with their newly-adopted child, the person in question certainly has strayed far from Orthodoxy. Such conduct is naturally described as brave, courageous, and daring – but it takes neither bravery nor courage just to dismiss explicit mandates of the Torah and carry on as if Judaism is a personal heirloom that one can cavalierly discard or distort. Certainly, if a self-described “Orthodox Rabbi” suddenly interrupted Yom Kippur services to invite the congregation to dine on pork and cheeseburgers, that decision might be popular, certainly innovative, but not courageous and daring. No one would entertain that such conduct is permitted by Torah law, and no one would call such a rabbi “Orthodox.”

The derring-do has been greeted mostly by rabbinic silence, born of the preposterousness of the act itself. Most organizations have ignored it, and, on one hand, not unreasonably. For who in his right mind would ever assume that the Torah endorses, celebrates, or permits same-sex marriages? To issue a public denunciation would be tantamount to decrying the Yom Kippur conduct described above, and give the conduct more attention than it deserves.

But on the other hand, the turbulence of Orthodox Jewish life – especially in the antics of its leftist fringe element – is such that allowing this misconduct to pass without protest will enable the confused and bewildered, willfully or unintentionally, to consider that it is within the range of possibility that same-sex marriage can be condoned by the Torah. Silence allows even a small window of doubt to open, and silence allows that doubt to fester and swell.
Jewish law is unequivocal in its condemnation of same-sex relationships – barring the physical contact itself, the seclusion of two homosexuals by themselves in a private room, and, of course, their “marriage” – and this regardless of society’s “evolution.” Indeed, the Gemara (Chulin 92b) underscores that one of the redeeming features of the ancient pagans was that, although they engaged in homosexual activities (in violation of the Noachide laws), even they did not deign to draft “marriage contracts for males.”

Perhaps the “rabbi’s” Torah study never encompassed that tractate. It apparently excluded several others as well. One hopes that he finds some internal peace and contentment, and remains faithful.

For sure, there is an element of sadness that attaches both to the event and its criticism, and therefore a simple protest and media advisory suffices. No one wants to pile on. The plight of the avowed homosexual evokes sympathy and pain, but even that must defer to a clear articulation of the truth of Torah. If it was clear from which institution the “rabbi” received his ordination, they too should issue a demurral. Rumor has it that the institution from which he claims ordination denies actually ordaining him.

No matter. It is sufficient to reiterate the obvious, enunciated by a broad spectrum of Rabbis and announced by the Rabbinical Council of America not long ago: “the Torah, which forbids homosexual activity, sanctions only the union of a man and a woman in matrimony.”

That is clear, definitive and authoritative. Media – Jewish and secular – take notice. And never assume that a Jew on staff is necessarily an expert on, or even remotely familiar with, Judaism. The “men from a great synagogue,” and their followers, deserve no less.

http://www.cross-currents.com/archives/2011/09/27/modern-orthodoxy-at-a-crossroads-2/

http://www.cross-currents.com/archives/2011/11/09/modern-orthodoxy-is-always-at-the-crossroads/

Paradoxically, I found myself in agreement with both Rav Adlerstein and Rav Broyde in their recent comments on Modern Orthodoxy and the limits of RCA tolerance. Rav Adlerstein lays down the gauntlet in terms of the importance of parameters for RCA inclusion, so we do not define ourselves into irrelevancy, or worse, become a tacit endorser of quasi-heretical notions. And Rav Broyde’s exposition of Modern Orthodoxy as “Always at a Crossroads” is, in many ways, right on point and underscores true areas of difference, especially in the danger of witch hunts and in mandating acceptance of the views of “gedolim” who do not generally share our hashkafat olam. Additionally, the challenge to the “Far Left” of maverick approaches to halacha and minhag that destroy the envelope after first pushing its ends should also engender some necessary soul-searching and perhaps re-visiting of some views.

Yet, if my admiration for Rav Broyde only grows each time he puts ink to paper (or the modern equivalent), I remain troubled by certain assumptions that are made that I believe undermine his overall argument. This is perhaps encapsulated in his summation that states, in pertinent part, that Modern Orthodoxy “incorporates two central values that we cannot live without: Halacha and the best of Western culture.” I am afraid that overstates the case in a way that leaves Modern Orthodoxy bereft of its Torah moorings. Can we really – should we really – equate Halacha and (even the best of) Western culture ? Without Torah, we are nothing, non-existent. Without Western culture, we are like…more than half the rest of the planet. If the Ramban on Chumash was suddenly no longer extant, or the Mishnah Torah disappeared, r”l, we would be orphaned. Can we say the same thing about the loss of Shakespeare, Rembrandt or the Knicks ? (See how easily the world is adapting to the absence of professional basketball.) Is there one Western value not already reflected in the Torah that, if it disappeared tomorrow, we as Torah Jews would sense a loss and openly grieve? There are cherished Western notions – democracy, for one – that are not incompatible with Torah, for sure, but nevertheless, pose a grave threat to international order and safety. Democracy brought both Hitler and Hamas to power, and may leave us trembling from the aftermath of the Arab Spring. So just what are these values we cannot “live without”?  Certainly there are aspects of Western culture that add a positive dimension to our lives, but if they were permanently gone would not even evoke a tear, much less wistfulness or some existential angst. Ki haim chayenu is Torah, nothing else. And science is not a “secular” discipline, insofar as it reflects the revelation of the Creator in nature.

Thus, Rav Broyde’s contention that “The best of the house of Yefet should reside in the house of Shem – the best of western culture should be part of the Jewish community,” is misleading at best. “The beauty of Yefet should be in the tents of Shem” is primarily an admonition that the culture of Yefet should be exalted and ennobled by the influence of the morality of Shem and not descend into the tawdriness and decadence (to which it has), and secondarily (the context of that statement in Megila 9b) that the Greek language – the most beautiful outside of the language of Torah – has a place in the tents of Shem. But the blanket endorsement of the beauty of Yefet in our tents directly contradicts Chazal’s elucidation of this same pasuk in Yoma 10a: “Even though G-d extends Yefet, the divine presence only rests in the tents of Shem.”And therein lies the critical distinction: the culture of Yefet, even in its loftiest state, might find its place in the tents of Shem but can never be equated with it. And our role as the heirs to the tents of Shem is to preserve its purity and moral code and set an example for Yefet.

Therein lies another problem with Rav Broyde’s theses: “It [Modern Orthodoxy] requires that we examine western culture faithfully and diligently to determine that which is best and ought to be incorporated. More subtly, it requires that we recognize that there are things missing from our own tent, so that we ought to acquire them from the outside.” (my bold).

Really ? “Missing from our own tent” flies in the face of the notion of “Torat Hashem Temima” and even more Chazal’s commentary on the pasuk “ki lo davar reik hu mikem – “for it is not an empty thing for you” (Devarim 32:47). The Yerushalmi Peah 1:1 states:  v’im reik hu, mikem hu - “if the Torah appears empty (deficient, missing something), it is in you.” If we sense something missing from our tent, then what is missing is in us, and not in our tent, mipnei she’ein atem yegei’in BaTorah, because we do not exert ourselves sufficiently in the Torah. If we exerted ourselves sufficiently, we would find all we need in the Torah.

To think the Torah is not one’s sole address for moral guidance, or an insufficient venue for one’s spiritual aspirations, is dangerous territory indeed. It lends itself not only to wholesale rejection of parts of the Torah that “offend,” but also to wholesale revisions or original compositions of parts that are deemed “missing” and need to be restored or supplemented.

Needless to say, I don’t suspect this is Rav Broyde’s credo; I do sense it animates what is called the “Far Left.” They find fault with the Torah, openly criticize and often demean Chazal, and – this is barely concealed – are often disappointed when the Torah does not conform to current but transient moral norms. But most of us are happy with the Torah, if occasionally disappointed in ourselves, and the drive to incorporate western values in Torah – or make the Torah subservient to or the handmaiden of western values – is a well known dead end for Jews. Not every desideratum of modern life should be part of Torah just because it is modern or desired. And not every value embraced by Jews – egalitarianism comes to mind – is necessarily a Jewish value.

I am also less than sanguine about the propriety of grounding one’s deviations from the norm in rejected psak, even those with a “fine rabbinic pedigree,” when those deviations are far from the current norm. One can easily locate a justification or two for wife-beating and tax-cheating, as unsavory as those practices are, scattered in the words of fine scholars operating from different premises, but antithetical to the majority opinion and prevailing Jewish practice through the ages. We do not do that because minhag yisrael is sacred, because the mesora matters, and because we are a nation and not just a collection of individuals serving G-d in accordance with our subjective interests.

Obviously, our Far Left would not dare eradicate the mechitza – despite embracing ideological criteria that would endorse such a move. My sense is it would not be done not because it would violate the halacha (the Shulchan Aruch, they would posit, is silent on the matter) but rather because it is identified with the Conservative brand. It would be a blatant admission of defection. So the next best thing is done – either it is rendered unnoticeable or dismantled at the first opportunity, or that very same fight is taken to other battlefields. Hence the list of deviations from prevailing Orthodoxy that Rav Broyde cites critically as enacted by the Far Left without any hint of self-criticism on their part, or awareness that they are distancing themselves from the mainstream of faithful Jews. But the main deviation, as I see it, is not in this or that practice or change, but in an approach to the words of Chazal and the Oral Torah that is more reminiscent of the Conservative movement and that prompts each step away from the tent.

In truth, I am agnostic about expulsions because the fears of Rav Broyde of endless line-drawing and persecution are well-grounded.  Nevertheless, I do see the value in clarifying what we stand for and giving clear guidance to our fellow Jews, even if that means pulling down the flaps of our tent to keep out deviationists. As Rabbanim – teachers of Torah – we shirk our responsibilities if our solitary goal remains a big tent. That would be useful if the primary objective of the RCA is to serve as a professional rabbinic fraternity that protects our jobs and pensions, come what may. But if we aspire as an organization to Torah leadership, and to impact the spiritual lives of our fellow Jews in traditional ways, then lines must be drawn and clarity achieved.

Where those lines are drawn should make for an interesting discussion. But at a certain point, it is clear that diverse opinions are impossible to reconcile and a unity on paper only will easily crumple. Therefore, “scholars, be careful with your words, lest you incur the penalty of exile, and are banished to the place of evil waters (heresy) and the disciples who come after you will drink and die, and G-d’s name will be desecrated” (Avot 1:11). That is good musar for all of us.

It is difficult to remember the last time that the United States was wracked with such dissension, discontent, protests, and economic hardship. From my vantage point, “Occupy Wall Street” has been primarily a source of comic relief – the participants, their complaints, their solutions, and their antics – except for the sporadic violence, and the loss of job and business in lower Manhattan caused by the unwillingness of sane people to traverse that area under siege. There are many different forces at play in these nationwide protests,
most without any clue as to how to improve their personal financial situations
or the national economy. Having occupied Wall Street, the occupiers do not seem to know what they want to do with it.

But there is discontent among the wealthy as well, who are being demonized for the most crass political purposes and who have lost much of their wealth in the last few years (from 2007 to 2009, there was a 40% drop in the number of millionaires filing federal tax returns, from 392,000 to 233,000), and among the middle class, who have seen their assets diminished, and found near-insurmountable obstacles to their pursuit of the American dream. Everyone is unhappy.
And the more government meddles in our lives, the worse and less free
our lives become. All this discontent is the fruit of the poisonous tree of
big, intrusive government trying to run every aspect of our lives – and failing
at all of it: telling us what we can eat, what we can drive, what types of
bulbs we can use, how much water the shower nozzle can dispense, how high our fences can be, how many miles per gallon our cars should provide, what types of medical procedures we should or should not have, etc. There are many who expect and want government to satisfy their every desire and care for their every need – to be given a job, a home, health care, retirement pay, and a host of other entitlements. I want none of that. I just want to be left alone.

America was founded on the premise of the right of the individual to
pursue happiness as he sees fit – as long as his pursuit does not encroach on
the rights of others. So a federal government should provide for the common
defense against external enemies, enforce contracts so the commercial system
remains viable, and build interstate roads and highways. Beyond that, I
struggle to find where a federal government is useful or effective, and I
resent that the fruit of my labor is confiscated to pay for useless, frivolous,
unneeded and unwarranted boondoggles. I just want to be left alone.

Consider how far we have traveled. In 1887, Texas was stricken by a
drought (just like this past year). Congress appropriated $10,000 to purchase
seed grain for the suffering farmers there. President Grover Cleveland (the
only president born in New Jersey) vetoed the bill, saying: “I can find no warrant for such an appropriation in the Constitution, and I do not believe that the power and duty of the general government ought to be extended to the relief of individual suffering which is in no manner properly related to the public service or benefit. … The friendliness and charity of our countrymen can always be relied upon to relieve their fellow-citizens in misfortune. Federal aid in such cases encourages the expectation of paternal care on the part of the government and weakens the sturdiness of our national character, while it prevents the indulgence among our people of that kindly sentiment and conduct which strengthens the bonds of a common brotherhood.”

“The lessons of paternalism ought to be unlearned and the better lesson
taught that while the people should patriotically and cheerfully support their
Government its functions do not include the support of the people.”

     Notwithstanding that those sentiments (and undoubtedly other reasons as
well) led to Cleveland’s defeat in 1888 – he was re-elected four years later –
those lessons of the dangers of “paternalism” need to be re-learned and
re-internalized. Part of America’s greatness in the 20^th century was
built on the labor of millions of immigrants – including more than two million
Jews – who arrived on these shores and looked not to government for a handout but to their relatives, neighbors, and co-religionists for temporary assistance until they could support themselves by the sweat of their brow. Hard work, self-sacrifice, material deprivation and personal responsibility were the norms of life. It was expected that people would succeed or fail on their own, and therefore everyone had an interest in succeeding. There was no governmental safety net, and the safety net that did exist for the elderly and infirm was usually provided by family and religious institutions.

The Constitution does not allow government to confiscate money from the productive and distribute it to the unproductive or the clueless – whether the clueless are reckless individuals or reckless corporations. But today, that is the primary function of government, and so 49% of Americans receive some form of government assistance and wayward, mismanaged corporations are bailed out to the tune of hundreds of billions of dollars rather than allow the market to take its natural toll on unprofitable businesses. Blame Woodrow Wilson and Franklin Roosevelt, and then almost every president since then, who have all realized that there are electoral victories to be obtained by handing out money to as many groups and individuals as is feasible. And, frankly, blame the citizenry as well, people who are being weaned on getting something for nothing, and letting others work and prosper and then thinking that it is fair and just that their work product be redistributed to them. It was Thomas Jefferson who wrote that democracy fails the moment the majority realizes that it can vote itself money out of the treasury. We have arrived at that moment, and the national character, accustomed to handouts and bailouts, has been concomitantly weakened to its current flaccid state of disgruntlement and self-pity.

The two visions of America – the free enterprise state that allows the individual free choice in pursuit of his happiness vs. the nanny state that is paternalistic, intrusive and demanding – can easily be discerned by the one defining difference: the former sees each person as an individual (created in the divine image) and the latter sees man as simply part of a collective whose rights are drawn from the fact that he is part of a group but do not inhere in him. America and the free world used to celebrate the role of the individual – encouraging it, fostering it – because no individual prospers without also benefiting others. No individual can become wealthy unless he makes a product or provides a service that others want at a price they can afford. So, everyone benefits. Now, it is one size fits all – like the housing in socialist societies that all looks the same, and like the clothing in old Communist China where everyone dressed the same. No individuality is tolerated. Rights are awarded to some individuals, and denied to others, because they belong to a particular group – the very premise of affirmative action, for example.

Similarly, these attitudes engender the populist complaints about income inequality – the rich are too rich, and the poor are too poor. Why does the income gap, which so exercises the Occupy World Street crowd and other anarchists, bother anyone? If everyone has – or can have – then why be troubled by the success of some?       Indeed, a study not long ago showed that people are happier if they are earning $25,000 and their neighbor $50,000 – than if the sums are doubled and they earn $50,000 and their neighbors earn $100,000. Why? Although the income gap has widened, they too are earning more money?     For only one reason, that greases the wheels of much of the discontent in America and across the globe today: jealousy. What a deadly mida! Envy ruins lives, leaves people dejected and despondent, and is the cause of wars and much suffering.

Envy is the very  antithesis of Succot. Rav Dessler writes famously that Succot reflects bitul hayesh, the nullification of the material. Has anyone ever walked into someone’s Succa and said: “This is beautiful – I am so jealous, I wish I had a Succa like this!” Of course not. And why not? Because it is gone in a week, and is therefore defined as a temporary dwelling. But that is the point –
everything in this world is temporary, so why be jealous? Why covet what
someone else has?

The Gemara Avoda Zara 3a-b states that in the future the nations of the world will be tested with the mitzvah of Succot. The nations are easily inflamed, and much of what they accomplish is triggered by jealousy. So G-d burns the sun
on them as if it is the height of summer – the sun, which to us appears to be
the most permanent fixture of the physical world. And they kick their Succot on
the way out, as if to say, the only reality is the material world, of
substance, and mergers and acquisitions – so why waste time and energy on
anything that is temporary and cannot stoke our competitive juices like the
Succa?

If that regression will happen in the future, as the Gemara says, the good news is that that future is already here. And it is fostered by a heavy-handed government that speaks of charity and generosity as disguises for outright theft. Trillions of dollars spent in a war on poverty has created more poverty – not less. The poverty rate has increased since the war on poverty began, as well as fostered a cycle of multi-generational welfare dependency and a surfeit of broken homes.
For Jews, we perceive the material as temporary and tangential to life, and
look to G-d as the only true source of our rights and values.     To us, life is blissful when, as in the time of King Shlomo, “Yehuda and Yisrael dwelled in security, each person beneath his vine and his fig tree”(I Melachim 5:5) – each person content, satisfied and comfortable with himself and his neighbors, free of the burdens of jealousy and greed.

It is hard for a thinking Jew to generate much sympathy for the “demonize the rich” populism, for a number of reasons, but especially because the Torah seems to like the rich (the Torah likes the poor too). It is one of the defining, oft-repeated themes of Avraham’s life – and maybe a great nisayon as well. The Torah sees fit to emphasize that Avraham does not only leave Charan with his wife and nephew, but also “with all the wealth they had amassed.” And he does well in Egypt – “laden, very heavy, with cattle, silver and gold,” Strange words – kaved me’od, not that he was wealthy, ashir, but kaved, heavy. Wealth can be a burden as well.

And Avraham rejects the gifts of the king of Sodom, so “you shouldn’t say, ‘I made Avraham rich.’” And the Torah underscores that both Yitzchak and Yaakov (and Moshe) were wealthy, all of which gave them credibility with their contemporaries. In the most far-reaching comment, Avraham is told that his descendants would be enslaved in a land not theirs for 400 years, “after which they will leave with great wealth.” But why is this important ? And why does the Torah speak of wealth of our ancestors again and again?

Avraham’s wealth was purposeful. It was designed to bring him respect from his peers, and enable him to better promote his divine message. He was completely focused on advancing Hashem’s agenda, and on realizing spiritual goals. Why should that be demonized? We need not – and should not – succumb to materialistic excess. It is unnecessary, beneath our dignity, and the result of environmental influences that we should strive to keep out of our lives. We know how to live – but we also know how to use our money to build Torah and shuls and yeshivot and mikvaot. We know how to help the indigent, and we know how to support Israel.

Wealth is a challenge but it need not be a curse, or somehow ignominious as today’s malcontents would want us to believe. Wealth is a “blessing from Hashem” (Mishlei 10:22), so it is to be used judiciously, wisely and productively. We don’t always succeed, but we do succeed much more than people tend to think. Wealth is therefore a great test, and our use of our bounty is usually a very keen indicator of our moral aspirations and the state of our character. Prioritizing Torah education and the performance of Mitzvot is obviously a more effective and rewarding use of our bounty than is the relentless pursuit of more stuff – houses, cars, fancy gadgets and clothing, and extravagant affairs.

That is why none of the complaints and antics of these American protesters resonate with me. They choose not to see the hard work, the sacrifices, the risks and even the re-distribution wrought by the wealthy consumer (a person who buys a private jet supports a number of people who built that private jet). All they see is mass consumption, all they see is materialistic excess – and they just want it for themselves, without having to work for it. They should learn the lesson of Succot, and we should strive to embody the values and vision of the Avot.

If we choose poorly, then wealth can corrupt us as well, and we can go down the path of Lot, Avraham’s neer-do-well nephew, who was literally destroyed by his worldly ambitions. But if we choose more wisely, then the legacy of the Avot is ours, and our example to the rest of society as to the divine values of personal
responsibility, individual morality, the appropriate utilization of resources
and generosity can be profound. It was for that reason that G-d chose Avraham,
and blessed his offspring with that eternal mandate to the nations of the
world.

One day, the king issued a proclamation that whoever enters the palace to greet the king will be granted honors and riches, and serve the king as a trusted minister. Some people came, saw what appeared to be the multiple walls, were intimidated and retreated. Others penetrated the first and second layers, and despite seeing no great obstacles – no rivers, no walls, no ferocious animals, and the king’s retinue dispensing great riches to all visitors, they still shied away from approaching further.

Only one person persisted – the king’s son, who yearned to see his father. And so he forced his way into the palace, past the magical walls and the bears and the lions and the guards – he fought and struggled until he arrived at his father’s inner sanctum. When the king saw his son’s dedication, he removed his
sleight-of-hand, and the son saw that there were really no walls, nor any
partitions or separations – just gardens and orchards and all the delights one
could imagine – and the king sitting on his throne, surrounded by his retinue.

And the son cried out to his father – why did you hide from me ? Why did you conceal yourself – “you concealed Yourself and I trembled” (Tehillim 30:8)? And the king answered that it was all done for you, to test you, to reveal
what is in your heart, the extent of your love and reverence for me.

There are times when we sense a distance between us and G-d – when G-d appears remote and inaccessible, when we feel forlorn and abandoned to a chaotic and unruly world. “You concealed Yourself and I trembled” – we tremble at the distance, at the concealment. It is when we call out to G-d – “to You, G-d, I call out, to G-d, I supplicate” (ibid 30:9) – that we realize that the barriers
are illusory and the obstacles are all of our own making. G-d is wherever we
let Him in.

Why does man build walls – why does man resist surrender to G-d’s will ? Primarily fear. Fear that our lives will be less enjoyable, fear that we will have fewer friends, fear that we will lose our jobs and our money, fear that the nations of the world will oppress and persecute us. We run from the covenant, or we attempt to re-define it on our terms.

We conclude – “I can’t learn Torah (no background, no time, no fun); I can’t observe Shabbat as a complete day of sublime holiness for 25 hours (I have to commingle it with the activities and deportment of the weekdays); I can’t give charity, I can’t make aliya, I can’t avoid speaking lashon hara, I can’t dress appropriately, I can’t behave in shul, I can’t treat others with respect and courtesy, or I can’t feel G-d’s presence in my life…” Each “can’t” is a wall, a moat, a roaring lion, a mighty soldier that blockades the door to the palace. King David said “my soul thirsts for G-d” (ibid 42:3). We might say – “I don’t want to thirst for G-d; I want to retain my autonomy, my independence – I don’t want to surrender, I want to engage G-d on my terms. I don’t want to feel a spontaneous gratitude to G-d – too limiting, too demanding.”

But, if we choose, we can dismantle these barriers on our own – one by one. Or, sometimes, the barriers fall away by themselves, because we are left with no choice. We fear the consequences of sin, we’re adrift, we sense something is amiss, and we finally want to enter the palace. Our fears are replaced by a yearning – “as a father has compassion on his children, so too G-d has compassion on us.” And we finally admit that “there is nothing but  Him” (Devarim 4:35).

The Rogatchover Gaon said the blessing for the commandment of shofar is “to hear the sound of the shofar,” rather than to “blow the shofar” because we don’t all hear the same thing. And it is not the technical “hearing” of the shofar
that fulfills the mitzvah, but rather the mitzvah is to listen to the sound of
the shofar that breaks through the walls of our creation, the figments of our
imagination, the sources of our rebellion. If one hears the shofar and is not
moved, and the walls don’t crumble, and the heart is not bent, then there is no
mitzvah. It is the sound we hear, each and every one of us, that defines the
mitzvah, and our surrender to G-d on the day of judgment.

Rav Saadia Gaon wrote that we listen to the shofar and surrender to G-d, because that is the nature of the shofar, the instrument of coronation.

May the sounds of the shofar this year cause G-d to ascend, and enable us to break down all the barriers, and confer the blessings of life and health, prosperity and tranquility, on us and all Israel.

Shana tova  to all !

    The Gemara (Bava Batra 165a) says, in the name of Rav, that certain sins are hardy perennials that are difficult to suppress: “Most [people are guilty] of theft, a minority of promiscuity, and everyone of slanderous speech,” which the Gemara soon qualifies to mean the “dust of lashon hara” – indirect, disparaging
speech but not overt gossip. (It is safe to say that these days few roll only in the dust of lashon hara.) But what of the Gemara’s assertion that “mi’ut ba’arayot” – only a minority are guilty of sexual misconduct? The overheated rhetoric that came my way seemed to imply – strike that, it was stated explicitly and quite stridently – that if young men and women simply talk to each other, even in public and even in controlled settings, that sin is inevitable for all but the most unresponsive and lifeless among them. How can that be, if the Gemara perceives only a minority as succumbing to these sins?

    Conversely, since the more prevalent danger is theft, why do we not embrace the same restrictions in this area that are suggested in the dating context? Rashbam notes that people are prone, especially in business, to allow themselves leniencies that increase their own profits at the expense of others (known in today’s parlance as shtick). Recall that Rav Yisrael Salanter said famously that just as there is a prohibition to seclude oneself with another’s wife (yichud),
so too there should be a prohibition to seclude oneself with someone else’s money. Reb Yisrael was undoubtedly correct, as always, that the temptation of illicit money exceeds that of lewdness, and yet we have not incorporated the same restrictions: we don’t require two people to work a cash register in a Jewish store, we are not admonished not to enter stores alone lest we shoplift or
remain alone in someone’s living room in the presence of his I-Pod or other desirable devices, nor do we require that young people with uncontrollable lusts for money and no legitimate means of earning it just avoid any contact with it.
Perhaps we should – but we don’t, because erecting limitless fences around sin
does not build character or develop reverence for Heaven. What is does is leave
a person incapable of exercising any self-control the moment one of those
fences collapses.

    Indeed, Chazal did establish one fence regarding relations between unmarried people – the prohibition of seclusion that was decreed by the Sanhedrin of King David in the wake of the Amnon-Tamar episode. Consequently, it is surely forbidden for unmarried people to seclude themselves. But how then is another fence built around the initial fence – a decree added to a decree – that would prohibit even public interactions? Is the world so much different today than it was 50, 100, 500, 1000 or 3000 years ago?

    Yes and no. The world is different in terms of the dissemination of bawdy material and the tawdry imagery that inundates our senses. Modern means of communication has eased transmission of both the holy and the profane. Our eyes and our souls are always at risk whenever we venture out into the world, and even when sometimes we sit at home or in front of a computer. But human nature is the same, and we delude ourselves into thinking that, somehow, today’s young people are more concupiscent than people in ancient, medieval or pre-modern times. That is simply false. People are people and human nature is human nature. (Even the display of raunchy material is nothing new. Visit any art museum – I was at the Louvre in Paris last week – and one realizes that medieval art was almost exclusively either Christian-themed or naked women – and sometimes both, simultaneously. Of course, they called it art, like others term even more salacious material today. Either way, there is not much for a Jew to see. I developed a new appreciation to the genius of Monet, and even Morris Katz.) In the past, the public frowned on debauchery, but that does not mean that its incidence was any less frequent than today.

     Obviously, the Bible has many stories of misconduct between the sexes, and the Torah prohibitions reflect that one’s desires gravitate toward those areas. The Maharal himself was banished from Prague (after his first stint there) because the people resented his carping about one of their prevalent vices – adultery – and this in a community that numbered just several thousand Jews. There is nothing new under the sun. So, knowing what we know, how can Chazal say that just a “minority” are guilty of promiscuity? Would they say the same today? Would Rav amend his statement to read that, today, sadly, “all are guilty
of theft, lechery, and gossip” – in which case, what hope is there for any of
us?

     I conclude that Chazal were correct, and that only a minority of people are guilty of licentiousness. All people are subject to fantasies, even persistent ones, but most do not act upon them. Hirhur (fantasy) is part of the human condition; fleeting thoughts are impossible to inhibit and our obligation as strivers for perfection then becomes uprooting them, not dwelling on them, and becoming involved in some more gainful and productive pursuit. To think that we can eliminate unconscious thoughts reflects an ignorance of human nature, and
Chazal profoundly understood human nature. And to think that we can eliminate sin by supplementing the Torah’s and Chazal’s prohibitions with even more prohibitions is misguided. It simply drives sin underground – to which a
generation of Jews who hide televisions in their closets, or received deliveries of televisions in air-conditioner boxes, or who furtively sit over their computers surfing the internet without a life-preserver can undoubtedly attest. At the end of the day, there is no alternative to self-control, which is a function of reverence of Heaven.

     Human nature is human nature, and no community is immune from sin or devoid of sinners. The Jewish world – right, left, center, Modern, Haredi, yeshivish – has its share of miscreants, pedophiles, thieves, psychos, murderers, adulterers, degenerates, deviants, and those who would expose or cover up those sins and sinners, crimes and criminals. The comfort might be that our numbers are smaller relative to the general population in all these vices, and that lasciviousness is still perceived as aberrational conduct that is not or should not be tolerated in our midst and appropriately shocks us when it does occur. But to think further that there is one foolproof way that works for all – one way to avoid sin or temptation, one way to find a spouse, and one way to have a happy, fulfilling marriage – is delusional.

   There is something else that needs to be said, an outgrowth of some of the responses I received. Fear of sin is a virtue in Jewish life, in a way that it is simply not understood in the rest of the world. We should always be mindful that we can stumble at any time, and therefore always have a conscious awareness of G-d’s presence. But there is a fine line between piety and dysfunction that tends to get blurred. Reading recent accounts of families that segregate the sexes for meals – or families in which brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law do not converse for fear of the “next step” – crosses the line from excessive piety to palpable dysfunction. If we posit that Chazal are correct – and who among us would not? – that only a mi’ut ba’arayot – then we have to accept that self-control and self-discipline are sufficient to allow normal interactions and to restrain, even among the most lustful among us, improper conduct. If not – if one cannot walk the streets or converse or casually interact without harboring persistently impure or libidinous thoughts that coalesce with an uncontrollable urge to lunge at random females, that is dysfunctional, and such a person requires all the safeguards that we can conjure, and even some that we have not yet imagined. But normal people do not require that.

    The bottom line is that one who does not learn self-control before marriage will not learn it after marriage either, and invariably fall into that minority category that Chazal addressed. And one who cannot restrain his passions in any area of life – money or gossip included – will never learn to restrain it until he/she begins a process of teshuva, self-awareness, and discipline. That process is the true perfection of the soul that is a primary purpose of life itself, and
that process must always be informed by the recognition that the ways of Torah
are the “ways of pleasantness,” as well as normalcy.