Author Archives: Rabbi

 And finally…

One question keep recurring: “Where does it say it?” As in: where is it written that a woman cannot be a Rabbi ? The question, asked several dozen times in the last few weeks, deserves an answer about halachic methodology, because the question itself reveals a lack of understanding about Jewish life and tradition, as well as, I say this gently, not a little disingenuousness.

One might as well ask: where does it say that I cannot give my beloved flowers on Valentine’s Day ? Where does it say that I cannot watch TV or play tennis on Shabbat ? Where does it say that a shul requires a mechitza? Where does it say that I cannot get drunk every day ? (Don’t get any ideas.)

There is a reason why the Torah was not given to us as a law book, but as a narrative that includes laws, unlike, say, the Constitution or the United States Code. Neither of the latter works gave an account of what preceded their composition, but rather just present, respectively, the framework of government and the dry laws that govern different aspects of society. The Torah begins with creation, the stories of our forefathers, the exile in Egypt and the redemption, the Revelation at Sinai and our sojourn in the wilderness. The Torah presents its laws in an ethical framework, and fosters the creation of a Torah personality who is humble, subjugates his will to G-d, and finds his connection to spiritual life through the Mesorah.

The naval birshut HaTorah (the degenerate within the Torah’s framework) is the prototypical example of a person who does not violate any specific laws in the Torah but still confounds and tramples on the very notion of the Torah personality. He is a drunkard and a glutton, but cannot be shown any specific place “where it says” one cannot be a glutton or a drunkard. But he is still a degenerate, not a good Jew, and breaches in a vulgar manner the Torah’s meta-halachic mandate that compels us to be a “holy people.”

There are notions that transcend halacha; not that one could not point to a specific clause here or there that prohibits or permits some desired practice (like the female rabbi), but rather that the specific clause is almost irrelevant to the question at hand. One such meta-halachic notion concerns the appropriate categorization of the roles of men and women in Jewish life, and in particular the criteria for Jewish leadership. Chazal would not have had to ask “how could Devorah judge?” (see Chapter 2 of my book on Sefer Shoftim, “Judges for Our Time” for a greater elaboration) if the issue was self-evident. Other such meta-halachic concepts include “what is right and good,” “you shall be holy,” “Remember the Shabbat day to keep it holy,” et al. If all we did was just look in a book (or Google the Internet) in order to find what is permissible or impermissible, we would not recognize Judaism or need Rabbis, nor would Judaism have much to say to the world of lasting value. Obviously, no legal work can encompass every single case or eventuality, and the divine genius of Torah is that we are given formulas that can be applied by the masters of Torah in every generation in order to gain a consensus and be guided in practice.

The latter point is critical, as some persist in citing even one authority who permits something, and so therefore it must be legal. (Rav Uziel’s name keeps popping up in terms of women as judges.) But one might then as well reference Rav Yaakov Emden who “proved” that men can take concubines, or Rabbi Yossi Haglili (Masechet Shabbat 130a) who “proved” that one can eat chicken and milk together. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of such examples. Well, all rabbis are created equal, but they do not all carry equal weight. Tradition strives for consensus, and in almost every case – and the exceptions are literally exceptional cases – the halacha, minhag, practice, recommendation, etc. – will follow the consensus of Rabbis and certainly when the matter at hand has national implications. Individual Rabbis might have flexibility in methods of koshering a dishwasher, but only a consensus of great Rabbis can introduce changes that affect the Jewish people – and their reluctance here is grounded not in timidity or prejudice but in Mesorah.

That is why – to answer another recurring comment on the lack of a universal posek – even Rav Elyashiv, Rav Ovadia Yosef, Rav Moshe Feinstein, etc.  will not necessarily be heeded on every particular decision. They, too, great people all, can also fall outside the consensus of halachic opinion in a particular case. But the consensus can be trusted not only to give appropriate guidance, but also to apply the traditional formula to new circumstances and – most significantly – not allow the mesora to be corrupted by alien ideologies that infiltrate our world. (The idea of “female clergy” not only mimics Reform, but in fact is a throwback to pagan ideologies and a perennial challenge to religious establishments. The Catholics suffer from this same type of movement that seeks to feminize the priesthood; it really does come from the “same pew, different church.”)

There is compelling logic in the propriety of consensus, even beyond “acharei rabim l’hatot” (the mandate to follow the majority). If 1000 doctors tell you that something is unhealthy, and only one tells you it is salubrious, only the most foolhardy will listen to the one doctor. We generally follow the overwhelming majority on any matter of interest. Would that we treated rabbinical opinion with the same formula we apply to restaurant or movie reviews; perhaps, to the detractors, the latter have more substance, since religion is all about “how you feel,” anyway.

To say there is no consensus that “female rabbis” are even in the realm of the possible, much less acceptable, is an understatement, to say the least. The opposite is so – there is near universal condemnation of the concept across the Jewish world – right to left – for clearly stated reasons. Some have been articulated earlier. Others present each day: A Rabbi is a spiritual leader, a role model, an example-setter. But the Torah exempts a woman from Talmud Torah and from public prayer – the two most common situations in which the public interacts with a Rabbi. “Greater is the one who is commanded and does than the one who is not commanded and does,” and so woe to the community whose “spiritual leaders” are exempt from essential aspects of Jewish life. “There is darkness in the generation in which a woman rules” (Yalkut Shimoni Shoftim 42), with Margaret Thatcher, perhaps, the exception.

One other point needs to be made on answering the question “where does it say it?” In truth, it is surprising to see that many ModOs are such textual fanatics, since even when specific laws are found in print they are often willfully disregarded. For example, the Talmud, Rambam and Shulchan Aruch (and later authorities as well) are quite explicit in obligating married women to cover their hair outside their homes, or in prohibiting swimming on Shabbat.  The fact that such is in writing – and quite unequivocally – does not seem to have that great an impact in certain ModO sectors. Or, one finds written injunctions on the importance of tefila b’tzibur, but in some ModO communities that does not seem to be the norm. So maybe the fact that something is in writing or not in writing is not really the point?

What emerges is the rank hypocrisy of people who will embrace as permissible whatever is not explicitly prohibited in the books (or explicitly prohibited to their satisfaction), while simultaneously arrogating to themselves the right to ignore or expound away explicitly written prohibitions when they do conflict with a particular objective or desire. That approach of the leftist ModO fringe makes up in legal creativity what it lacks in integrity, and is unworthy of and unbecoming a serious Jew.

All this reminds me of an incident I witnessed at the Kotel years ago. A weekday Bar Mitzva was accompanied by several loud musical instruments – a violation of the prevailing custom at the Kotel. When the father was told by the Kotel usher that what he was doing was forbidden, he replied: “But where does it say that I can’t do it?” Good question. And when told “zeh assur kahn” (“this is forbidden here;” it was even in writing), he answered “aval ani kahn” (“but I am here”) – and that made all the difference. It is all about me.

This month’s Newsmax quotes Rice University religious sociology professor Michael Lindsay on the “playlist effect” in contemporary American religious practice. “The way we personalize our iPhones, we also personalize our religious lives.” Rather than surrender our will to a Greater Authority, we choose what suits us from Column A or Column B – self-worship masquerading as divine worship.  Sadly, this tempest is just another example of Jews imitating non-Jews.

In the end, the question “where does it say it?” stems either from a sincere desire to research the sources – in which case one should consult a credible, learned Rabbi to understand how such decisions are made – or from an unconscious desire for a smokescreen that conceals the deliberate departure from Jewish tradition that this entails. To think that one can manipulate the sources – underscoring some, ignoring others – to permit the forbidden and thereby deviate from tradition is too clever by half, and just unserious.

The simplest result might be the most painful – simply to construe the small group of breachers as non-Orthodox, with all entails for their standing in the Jewish community. I hope there is another way, but it is clear now that the overwhelming consensus in Jewish life rejects this innovation, and will not let it stand. Let us therefore call it what it is. And let us recall as well that “whether Jew or non-Jew, man or woman, the holy spirit rests on a person in accordance with one’s deeds (Yalkut Shimoni Shoftim 42) – but we are each nonetheless called upon to serve G-d according to His will.

      There are two other dimensions to the “female Rabbi” phenomenon that are worthy of exploration – actually, several more, but two suffice for now – two dimensions that are not at all related.

     The Talmud (Masechet Nedarim 81a) cites the verses of the prophet Jeremiah (9:11-12) asking “for what reason was the land [of Israel] lost to us” and we were exiled ? He answered “Because they have abandoned My Torah,” G-d says. And how was the Torah “abandoned” ? The Gemara’s answer is that “they did not recite the Birchat HaTorah” – the daily blessing that precedes the study of Torah. In other words, they did study the Torah, but did not say the requisite blessing. And for that we were exiled from the land of Israel ?

    The blessing referred to acknowledges, in pertinent part, G-d “who chose us from the nations, and gave us His Torah.” It was that blessing that the Jews of that generation failed to recite that must precede the study of Torah – that G-d chose us from the nations and gave us His Torah.”

     Think about it. The Torah represents the embodiment of (some) of the infinite wisdom of G-d and is our uniqueness as a nation.     God would not have given us His Torah had he not first chosen us – i.e., separated us from the nations of the world. Torah study by its very definition presupposes a disassociation from the values, thought-processes and world-view of the nations. And each time we study Torah – certainly when we seek to apply its principles to contemporary times – we must underscore that sense of separation by articulating the Birchat HaTorah. We must ensure that the Torah reflects the eternal values of the Jewish people, and not the transient values of Greece, Rome, Christendom, Arabia – or America.

     It is undeniable that many of the distortions that have crept into Jewish life in the last half-century (the “female Rabbi” is but one; I would include the new “partnership minyanim” that necessitates the presence of ten men and ten women before beginning services, and in which women lead part of the services, and other such symbolism) have not emerged from a Jewish source but from a Western source: the rise of “feminism.” Nothing in Jewish life – or in the Torah – would militate in favor of any of these practices. Their sources are all non-Jewish.

      To incorporate these non-Jewish trends into Jewish life, and to do it through arcane references to isolated statements taken out of context or simply by premising one’s conclusions on the fact that something is not explicitly forbidden or mentioned in the Shulchan Aruch (mechitza is also not mentioned in the Shulchan Aruch) is the type of scholarship that prevailed during the First Temple era, and precipitated the exile. It is a type of “scholarship” that is not preceded by the Torah blessings that emphasizes that G-d “chose us from the nations” – He didn’t tell us to look to the nations for the values that would shape the Torah – and “gave us His Torah,” that has its own epistemology , methodology and values. Those who seek to infiltrate the Torah with the three pillars of modern Western life – feminism, egalitarianism and humanism – corrupt the Torah, cheapen the word of G-d, and ultimately sever their followers’ connection to the Tree of Life.

       Where these pillars are integrated into a new, grotesque Torah hybrid, it is no wonder that the distinctions between men and women, between the Orthodox and the non-Orthodox, and even between Jews and non-Jews (gospel choirs in shul, anyone ?) all become blurred. With all the “papers,” the “scholarship,” the “conferences” and the pre-determined conclusions – even assuming the sincerity of the individuals involved – it is all tantamount to “for they have abandoned My Torah,” and the Torah itself becomes not the elixir of life but a noxious and harmful entity that offers a quick high and then leaves its practitioners deflated or worse.

     Unrelated to the above is the deleterious effect of feminism on today’s woman, in at least one critical index of life. Researchers at the Wharton School of Business published a report last year (American Economic Journal: Economic Policy, August, 2009, 1-2, 190-225) entitled “The Paradox of Declining Female Happiness.” By objective measures women’s lives have improved immeasurably in the last 35 years – in terms of educational opportunities (there are more women than men enrolled in college today), employment opportunities that have increased women’s incomes and that have almost erased any gender gap in income (the disparities such as they exist are almost entirely attributable to seniority differences based on the woman’s need for more time off due to childbirth and child-rearing needs), and even social opportunities – to choose spouses or to leave unpleasant marriages. Those are demonstrable gains that women have made.

     Yet, by a subjective measure, women’s happiness has declined precipitously with all the newfound freedoms and material advantages. This decline transcends racial, ethnic, demographic and income boundaries, and the decline in women’s happiness is both in absolute terms and relative to men. For example, in the 1970’s, women were much more likely than men to report being “very happy.” Today, not only has the percentage dropped of women who report themselves as being “very happy,” it has also fallen below the level of men who report themselves as being “very happy.” Women today are also more likely to say they are “not too happy” than are men, the reverse of 35 years ago. To use another metric, women fell far below men even on the “life satisfaction” scale – another dramatic change.

     There are a number of reasons that are suggested. The ease of access to contraception and abortion gave women “control” over their bodies, but has been a far greater boon to men who seek sexual recreation without marriage and are no longer forced into “shotgun” marriages in case of unexpected pregnancy. Marriages were in a free fall for the first two decades after the rise of feminism (although it has levelled out in recent years), as men and women took flight at the first sign of marital dissatisfaction – and leaving many women as single mothers juggling too many responsibilities. The existence of women in the workplace has not diminished their household chores that much, creating what is known as “The Second Shift” phenomenon – women work outside the home all day, and inside the home a good part of the night. Finally, the authors (Betsey Stevenson and Justin Wolfers) suggest that the increased opportunities of modern women have also increased the likelihood that they perceive themselves as not measuring up to their peers – who now include men. Comparing their lives not just to other women but also to men fosters the conclusion that they have fallen short in the pursuit of life’s material quests.

    Perhaps there is one more reason why women have become progressively unhappier: they have ceased to find fulfillment in being women, and instead wish to be men – a disposition to which they are preternaturally and psychologically unsuited. For a woman to find her spiritual purpose in life fulfilled through rank mimicry of the male experience – partnership minyanim, aliyot, Torah reading, and now clergy – is, aside from its halachic offense – degrading to the Jewish woman. If happiness is found (and it is) not in finding pleasure but in a being living in line with its nature, than there are consequences to feminism that have induced women not to live in a way that conforms to – and gratifies – the essential feminine nature. Is there a crueler irony than that feminism might have destroyed the “feminine mystique”?

     The Torah posited, without absolutely mandating, different roles for men and women, not only to ensure that each makes its maximum contribution to the nation but also so that each should find fulfillment in the function to which it was most suited. Granted there are halachic prohibitions on some feminist excesses, and other prohibitions that arise from an understanding of the Torah personality (and some changes that were undoubtedly beneficial or neutral) ; but to erase these distinctions – in Jewish life – will sadly place the Jewish woman on the downward happiness slope of the modern woman generally, and (I guess the two dimensions were related after all) reflect an ideology of self-worship in which the Birchat HaTorah is not uttered in these forums because its methodology and conclusions defy the will of He “who chose us from the nations and gave us His Torah – and implanted within us eternal life.”

     Who is the posek (Rabbinic decisor) of Modern or Centrist Orthodoxy ? Who is the final, ultimate authority whose decision will be obeyed by all serious Jews – a role served in other wings of Orthodoxy in the past or present by such luminaries as Rav Moshe Feinstein, Rav Yosef Henkin, Rav Avraham Y. Kook, Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv, Rav Ovadia Yosef, Rav Asher Weiss, Rav Mordechai Eliyahu, Rav Shlomo Aviner, etc. ? At one time, of course, Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik filled that role for the ModOs, although he never considered himself primarily a posek. But who replaced him ?

     Good question. Some will undoubtedly point to the distinguished Roshei Yeshiva at YU for that designation, but clearly their piskei halacha are followed by their students and a self-selected group of questioners. They, sadly, cannot be deemed the poskim for the ModOs, because many (if not most) ModOs would not ask them, and, if they did, would not necessarily heed their decisions. So who fulfills the role of the posek for the Modern Orthodox ? Good question. No good answer, and therein lies the essence of the problem of Modern Orthodoxy today, one it came by quite honestly, and which mostly answers the question: how did a so-called “Modern Orthodox” movement begin ordaining women, a matter that even Professor Saul Lieberman of JTS reportedly opposed just 30 years ago ?

    The answer is that there is no posek for Modern Orthodoxy, almost by definition. Modern Orthodoxy has always been shaped by a variety of Western imperatives, and as Western values change, Modern Orthodoxy attempts to change with it. And one staple of Western man – especially in the United States for more than two centuries – has been a clear streak of anti-authoritarianism. “Don’t tread on me” was the chest-bumping chant of nascent America that is still prevalent today in American political life. (It is the unspoken but guiding principle of today’s Tea Party movement.) And it is among the dominant trends of Modern Orthodoxy, otherwise expressed as “Who are you to tell me what to do ? I am fully capable of making my own decisions !”

     To be sure, there are many fine ModOs who will ask she’elot – whether to their local Orthodox rabbi or to a Rosh Yeshiva (here or in Israel) whom they respect – and they will consider themselves bound by the decision. They would likely and justifiably dissent from what follows, but, in truth, they would not be considered genuine ModOs by the keepers of the nomenclature. They might consider themselves “modern” because of some other dimension of their lives, and clearly many Western values – especially those rooted in Torah – are positive, virtuous, and indispensable to civil society. To be called “modern” is not necessarily pejorative – but neither is it always, necessarily, affirmative or honorable.

    Consequently, the ModO Rabbi will tout the virtues of local Rabbinic authority, as opposed to a centralized authority. About a decade ago, one of the leading exponents of this notion, the esteemed Rabbi Saul Berman, said at an RCA convention that pulpit Rabbis should construe themselves as akin to “District Court Judges” in the federal court system who have absolute authority in their districts, and need not turn to other districts for judicial guidance. I.e., we can make our own decisions, and we need not fear what a particular Rosh Yeshiva, Jewish community, or tradition itself, will say. When I interjected that the analogy is flawed because even district judges can be overruled by Circuit Court Judges, and they in turn by the US Supreme Court – in fact, engendering the very opposite conclusion from the one he was drawing – there was no response. Perhaps he could have said that since we have no Circuit or Supreme Courts in our system, therefore the District Judge (i.e., Rabbi) reigns supreme. But we do have judicial overseers – those entrusted with the Mesora from generation to generation, and the great body of Torah Jewry of all stripes who recognize – with great honesty and objectivity – what is an innate part of the corpus of Torah and what is a foreign graft that is not truly part of Torah and will eventually be rejected.

     In a very real sense, the Rav zt”l was never replaced. Granted, he towered over the movement, and could not easily be replaced. Certainly, he was ill-disposed to the ideological direction of some of his disciples, but he was a complex individual – as many great people are – and that engendered the enduring discussion of the “Rav’s Legacy” in which a generation of his followers has eagerly engaged. But the Torah bids us to obey the “shofet asher yihiyeh bayamim hahaim,” the judges that will be in those days (Devarim 17:9). Each generation has its own leaders, and they are designated notwithstanding that they might lack the greatness of a prior generation’s leaders. There are outstanding Gedolei Torah in the ModO world; the fact that they are not perceived as “authorities” is not because they lack the magnitude of Rav Soloveitchik, but rather because many ModOs have willfully and purposely chosen not to embrace any final, absolute authority – to permit that ultimate freedom of action and to actualize that most American value: “Don’t tread on me.” (The right-wing, Yeshivish, Charedi worlds are much more hierarchical, and their deceased Torah giants are mourned, their teshuvot avidly studied and serve as precedents to be discarded reluctantly and rarely – but they do move on to the next generation of Torah leaders.) The ModOs never moved on, and in that vacuum of Rabbinic leadership, anything goes – including female Rabbis. Who’s to stand athwart history yelling “Stop!” ?

     Two months ago, I wrote in this space: “I have no doubt that the International Rabbinic Fellowship will find a way to admit women as members, and as Rabbis, and thereby in the short-term necessitate a change in their name (already!) to the International Rabbinic Fellowship and Galship (IRFG).”  That it happened so soon is also not that surprising, as any movement that thrives on media attention needs regular injections of publicity. And there is a virtue in clarity, in dropping all the pretenses, the forced explanations and contrived titles, and being honest about intentions and objectives. (And when they ordain homosexual rabbis and officiate at same-sex marriages – first to be called “commitment ceremonies,” of course – they will be up to speed with their Reform and Conservative colleagues. Now, they are lagging by about two decades.)

       By the way, what kind of title is “Rabba” anyway ? The Reform and Conservative Rabbis all call themselves “Rabbi” – male and female. Rabba is a man’s name, to boot; roughly twenty amoraim were named Rabba, including, most famously, Rabba bar Nachmani, who must be rolling in his holy grave along with his famous bar plugta, Rav Yosef. Interestingly, the great Rabba was nicknamed “okeir harim” – the uprooter of mountains – for his keen analytical skills, while Rav Yosef was nicknamed “Sinai” for his prodigious memory. Is it fair to say that this new, female Rabba is just ….okeir Sinai ? (I.e., Okeret Sinai, of course.)

     And what is next – non-Jewish Rabbis ? And why not, you might ask. Is there some prohibition about having a non-Jew preach (or sing) from the pulpit ? Apparently not. Is there a prohibition against a non-Jew doing pastoral work ? Certainly not.  Is there some prohibition against a non-Jew leading psukei d’zimra or Lecha Dodi ? He (she) is only reading Hebrew. Can a non-Jew not pasken she’elot­ – assuming, of course, that they receive the same Torah training and education as a Jew ? Hmmm. Can a non-Jew not ascertain whether a wedding ring is a shaveh pruta ? Hmmm, you read it here first. Of course, a non-Jew cannot count in a minyan or read from the Torah or be a witness, but…never mind… This was meant facetiously –neither l’halacha nor l’maaseh! – but to illustrate where the embrace of pure individual autonomy, rejection of Mesora, and intellectual “creativity” lead.

     There are cogent halachic, philosophical and social objections to the ordination of women (related to serara, leadership, the normal functions of the Rabbinate that cannot be performed by women, psak, mesora, et al), but history provides the clearest instruction. The Conservative movement approved women’s ordination only after the death of Professor Lieberman, a Slabodka talmid who always seemed out of place in Morningside Heights. (Reportedly, when Professor Lieberman came to America, Rav Yitzchak Hutner asked him first to teach at Yeshivat Chaim Berlin; instead, he went to JTS… It was a different generation!) But when JTS ordained women, that decision was the primary catalyst for the founding of the Union of Traditional Judaism, a Conservative splinter group for which the ordination breach was just too much. Is it fair to conclude that, for those keeping score at home, that this puts IRFG (and its YCT patron; forget the cosmetic barrier erected between the two) somewhere to the left of UTJ, known colloquially as “right-wing Conservative”? If so, and apparently it is so, then shouldn’t YCTers now come home ? Did they originally see themselves as being outside the pale of Orthodoxy ? Did they realize that the legitimacy of their semicha would be challenged, and then rejected by the Torah world ? For most, certainly, I think not. Come home.

     The slope is no longer slippery, as the bottom has already been reached, for now at least. Modern Orthodoxy, and its leading Rabbinical organization, has to clarify where it stands, drawing lines in the sand where necessary, and deciding, regretfully and sadly, what – and who – is outside the world of Torah. No one needs another intramural fight, not with Iran’s nuclear bomb looming. But in this week’s sedra, Amalek attacked a Jewish nation “she’rafu yideihem min haTorah” – whose grasp of Torah slackened, loosened, and became more tenuous. We have to re-assert the fundamental norms of Torah, or we will cease being construed as authentic representatives of the Creator.

     One of those norms is the rejection of the anti-authoritarian streak of Western man, and the recognition that subservience to halachic authority is the hallmark of the Torah Jew. And the converse – the life of the libertine – is the antithesis of Torah, and the root of idolatry: the creation of G-d in man’s image. Most ModOs will reject this latest innovation, but the leftist fringe will keep pushing and pressuring, especially in small communities away from the center of Jewish life. We need to protect them, and push back, and state unequivocally – with love and tears – to those who are about to walk the plank: “This is not the way. Come home.”