Category Archives: Machshava/Jewish Thought

Death of the Evildoer

    Purgatory gained a new resident, and, at least for one year, the solemnity of Yom Hashoah (27 Nisan) was lightened, with the news that Osama bin Laden had been killed by an elite American Navy Seals team in a fortified compound in northeast Pakistan. The details of the raid are worthy of a Hollywood spectacle, and undoubtedly will be in due course, but it is time to celebrate the death of the mastermind of the worst atrocity perpetrated on American soil in history.

    President Obama can rightly claim credit for this success that greatly weakens Al Qaeda’s capacity and influence. The fact that its founder and charismatic leader was killed by the “great Satan” demoralizes terrorists across the globe, removes a symbol of the “rise” of radical Islam, and likely reduces access to the bin Laden family fortune. Since the “fish stinks from the head,” chopping off the head from the snake of radical Islam is a grave setback that allows moderate Muslims, to the extent that they exist, to come forward and reclaim the legacy they assert is theirs. Certainly, there are al Qaeda cells across the world, and the Muslim Brotherhood is on the ascent in every Arab country with public unrest. Hamas quickly condemned the “assassination of the holy warrior,” something that itself should preclude any American acquiescence to the Fatah-Hamas rapprochement and is reminiscent of the celebrations that erupted in Gaza, Ramallah and elsewhere in the Arab world when the Arab terror attacks of September 11 took place.

       Nevertheless, something was missing from the Obama announcement. It was not only the lack of graciousness to his predecessor. Typically, Obama asserted that he made the capture of bin Laden a priority immediately after he took office, implying… that Bush did not make that a priority? President Bush wrote in his memoirs that the failure to capture bin Laden was one of his “great regrets” as president, especially after pursuing him relentlessly for several years. A more gracious president would have acknowledged that this has been an American priority since 2001, and, to a great extent, even going back to the Clinton administration. Yet, the only reference to President Bush was to incorporate his statement after the Arab terror of September 11 and reiterate the cliché that America is not “at war with Islam.”

     What was missing from Obama’s address (besides smoothness; he is a much better speaker with the dual teleprompter that enables him to move his head right and left than he is with the single screen monitor directly in front of him – one reason he consistently eschews the traditional Oval Office address) was joy. Simple joy, but even what President Bush’s critics would have termed “smug satisfaction” had this occurred under his watch. (I recall a great Bush line, in which he referenced the criticism of his “swagger. In Texas, we call that walking.”) It is as if killing bin Laden was an unpleasant task, for which Americans should feel at least some guilt and sorrow; that he deserved it but we didn’t want to do it and we hope the Muslim world realizes it is not about them, it was just one bad apple, etc.  A smile, a gleam in the eye (even when thanking the unit that succeeded,  acknowledging their exceptional professionalism and courage) – show some joy ! Bush (I and II), Reagan, Clinton – they all would have known how to gloat without overdoing it. But Obama underdid it. Whatever happened to “when the wicked perish there is song” (Proverbs 11:10) ? There were spontaneous outbursts by the crowds that assembled outside the White House, in Times Square, and even at Ground Zero –  “USA, USA !” They had it right; Obama’s passion was missing, and somewhat discordant. Why ?

    Defenders will say that he projected seriousness because the war is ongoing, new terror attacks might be in the offing, and we do not want to provoke these attacks through excessive boastfulness (as if terror against innocent civilians is brought upon them by their own deeds, and not the evil of the terrorists). But maybe there is something else afoot  – the liberal’s aversion to war.

     All this is reminiscent of the famous discussion in the Talmud (Sanhedrin 39b) that during the miraculous salvation at the Red Sea, which necessitated the complete annihilation of the Egyptian military, “the Heavenly angels wished to utter a song of praise before G-d but He rebuked them, saying ‘My handiwork (the Egyptians) is drowning in the sea, and you wish to utter a song before Me’?”

     This passage is popularly understood as a reason not to celebrate the downfall of the wicked, and even the reason why we do not recite a full Hallel on the anniversary of that miracle, the Seventh Day of Pesach. (This is based on a Midrash, even though the Gemara Arachin 10a-b offers a wholly unrelated reason for reciting half-hallel that is the operative halachic principle here.)

     Yet, although the angels were rebuked, Moshe and the Jews did sing a most glorious song upon beholding the death of the Egyptians (“I will sing to G-d for He is exalted above the arrogant, the horse and its rider are hurled into the sea… the mighty sank like lead into the water”), a song that we sing every single morning, and an event that we commemorate every morning and evening. And we do recite Hallel on the Seventh Day of Pesach, just omitting a few verses from two of the chapters; it is not as if we don’t celebrate the event at all but are sunk in grief over the loss of Egyptian life. And in a very similar event – the miraculous destruction of the armies of Sancheirev, the Assyrian king, that also took place on Pesach – the king Chizkiah was criticized by G-d for not singing a song of praise over the majestic salvation of the Jewish people and an abrupt end to the siege over Jerusalem (Sanhedrin 94a). So, which is it – do we sing or not sing, do we rejoice (like the crowds of Americans responding to the news of the death of our enemy or do we remain somber (like the Commander-in-Chief) ?

     The answer is in the statement of the Talmud itself: the angels were rebuked by G-d, not the people who experienced the great victory – who endured the suffering and pain inflicted by the evildoer and now lived to see justice done. The “angels” reflect a divine perspective. From G-d’s perspective, evil itself is a terrible waste of human endeavor, and the death of every human being is a net loss. The most wicked individual was created by G-d in the “divine image,” which he then trampled and abused and then forfeited. We are supposed to acknowledge the divine perspective, because it is an aspiration for all human beings.

     But we are human beings, and in the world of human beings, the suffering of innocent people troubles us and the destruction of the wicked delights us. That is why “when the wicked perish there is song” (Proverbs 11:10), and that is why Moshe sang the song that we sing every day since – about G-d’s exaltedness, and the triumph of righteousness that is heralded by the death of the wicked. That is why Chizkiah was punished and, according the Gemara, not designated as the Moshiach – he did not sing when he witnessed the hand of G-d. If we cannot feel joy when the wicked perish, then our love of justice is impaired.

     Certainly, the boisterous and young crowds chanting “USA, USA” were not praising G-d or singing Hallel, which they might have had their educations and upbringing been different. But they were rejoicing in the death of the wicked and the triumph of good, something that should evoke joy and not guilt, and in the President, a facial expression of satisfaction rather than one who looks like he is chewing gravel.

     The war is not over, but yesterday’s accomplishment was a great milestone. Like the death of Saddam Hussein that abruptly ended the fantasy of some Iraqis that he was still lurking and might return to power, the brutal death of Osama bin Laden sends a clear message to all Arab/Muslim terrorists: there is a day of reckoning for all. President Bush vowed in the aftermath of the Arab terror of September 11 that Osama bin Laden would be captured, “dead or alive.”

      He was, and “dead” is better, and an occasion for rejoicing and thanksgiving. So kudos to the President and his team for a job well done, as bin Laden prepares to be greeted by Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, Saddam and Arafat.

Tales of the Rabbinate, Part II: A visit to Haworth

   “I drive on Shabbat. Am I as good a Jew as you are ?”

    The question was as interesting as the genesis of the evening that led me into the heart of suburban northern New Jersey, roughly 20 minutes from my home, to a community that I had never before visited. My host – a conservative, thoughtful attorney-mediator, and an obvious provocateur (a compliment, in my estimation) – had tired of the incessant and baseless contentions of his fellow congregants at the local Temple that non-Orthodox Jews are not considered “Jewish” by Orthodox Jews. He knew it to be false, but my name emerged as one local “outspoken” Orthodox Rabbi, the “poster boy” (as he introduced me), invariably, for such an opinion. My host bet his friend that his allegation was untrue, and he would call me up and ask me.

   He certainly did, and I quickly dispelled that canard, which non-Orthodox Rabbis have been lodging against the Torah world for decades. He (and I) knew that a Jew, in the simplest definition, is any person born of a Jewish mother, and the level of observance or Torah commitment of that person matters not at all. Jews – whether described as Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist, unaffiliated or whatever – born of a Jewish mother are Jews, period. It what makes the Mets’ Ike Davis a Jew according to halacha (Jewish mother only), and the Brewers’ Ryan Braun a non-Jew according to halacha (Jewish father only). But the prevailing mythology has been a hoary tactic to raise funds and tensions in the Jewish world.

    In that conversation he asked me if I would be willing to come to his Temple and state this point, and I agreed immediately. When he realized that he might lack the authority to invite me, I suggested that I would come to his house, he can invite his friends and they could ask me whatever they wished. Less than three weeks later, his house was jammed with 51 people, mostly self-described Conservative Jews, at which the question above was among many others raised.

      The discussion was quite frank, somewhat contentious at times, but very constructive. The introduction was the now viral “Daily Show” segment on the proposed eruv in the Hamptons, where non-Orthodox Jews opposed the change to the “aesthetics” of the neighborhood that the eruv string would bring, just moments before admitting that it was “practically invisible,” and that the real fear was an influx of Orthodox Jews. The comedy both lightened the mood and set the tone for the discussions that related to conceptions and misconceptions.

     I made three basic points: first, that Orthodox Jews affirm – sine qua non – the Divine origin of the Torah, and its accompanying oral law. This is the foundation of everything in Jewish life – the Torah, our way of life, our nationhood, and our very reason for existence. As Ben Gurion stated, we are the only nation that can trace our existence to a particular day (3333 years ago this Pesach), and we even know the menu that our ancestors ate when they left Egypt (matza)! Americans do not celebrate the night the Mayflower sailed from Plymouth, England (it was September 16, 1620, according to the new calendar) – but we are an ancient people with a divinely-ordained purpose to our existence.

    That concept – the divine origin of Torah – shapes everything about our lives. It gives us meaning, depth and structure; it teaches how to live, how to act and how to think – and what to think. It gives us our lifestyle and our values, which emerge from the Torah and not from liberal editorialists. And to the extent that we embrace it, it gives us eternity as a people. If, G-d-forbid, G-d is taken out of the equation of Jewish life, then it is also ultimately meaningless, or as meaningful as the vapid symbols and culture of any group ever can be. But such laws would have no force or imperative, and certainly it would be insane to sacrifice one’s life for man-made symbols. We do what we do because we thereby serve G-d, better ourselves and perfect the world, and that is why we cling stubbornly to halacha, allow our lives to be guided by the rhythms of Jewish life (prayer three times a day, blessings, Torah study, honesty in business, etc.) and strive to conform our lives to the Torah rather than conform the Torah to the way we wish to live. We have been provided with the mechanism to ascertain G-d’s will.

     This line of reasoning, and the second point raised, engendered a question from the local Conservative Rabbi, who, to his credit, came and engaged. I assured the assembled that Orthodox Jews do not harbor any ill feelings towards non-Orthodox Jews, that we love them as Jews but are deeply concerned about their future viability, with an intermarriage rate excluding the Orthodox world hovering around 70% (!). The real dispute is not between the Jews but between the Rabbis – it is more of an “inside baseball” issue – the Jews are accepted as Jews but the Rabbis are not accepted as Rabbis. To which the rabbi asked several questions (compound questions became the norm; in other instances, with him and others, and quite typical of Jewish events, the speeches were disguised as questions): what makes me more of an authority that he is ? Why does it matter that he went to one school and I went to another ? Who’s to say that my interpretation of G-d’s will is any more valid than his ? Orthodox Jews argue over when Shabbat ends (45 minutes, 50 minutes, etc.)  – so why can’t there be legitimate disputes on all other matters ? And several other questions of this genre.

     My response was that Orthodox Jews follow the halacha as delineated in the Talmud, Rambam, Shulchan Aruch and subsequent codes. The Torah was given to us with a methodology of analysis and interpretation, and the non-Orthodox movements essentially abandoned that methodology, and became more result-oriented than process-oriented. The answers were often pre-determined (driving a car on Shabbat, mechitza, the host of women’s and now homosexual issues, et al), and the “halachic” justification followed. In a real and obvious sense, the Reform/Conservative movement deviated –changed the rules, 200 and 100 years ago, respectively – responding to social concerns that are no longer valid. (I underscored that the prevailing sentiment a century ago was that one could not be a fully-observant Jew and live in the secular world. But that no longer pertains to our day in which observant Jews ran for Vice-President of the US (Lieberman), served as US Attorney-General (Mukasey, under President Bush) and now serve as head of the Office of Management and Budget (Jack Lew). Shabbat observance today is understood, respected, and accommodated – something I experienced personally when I practiced law. So the whole premise under which halacha was discarded or watered down by the non-Os is no longer valid.

     I further stated that I can’t look into my heart and ascertain G-d’s will but I can certainly do that and ascertain my will. But ascertaining G-d’s will can only be accomplished by looking at the law He gave us, through the Torah, the Talmud and the Codes, and through the methodology of halachic-decision making we can apply the ancient and eternal guidance to every new situation that arises. (Sometimes, of course, new matters – brain stem death, organ donation, stem cell research, etc. – remain unsettled at the beginning but over time a halachic consensus takes shape. And this dynamic – of new matters generating discussion and disagreement – is generally true of law and medicine as well.)

   The local Rabbi stumbled on one point – when he admitted that he does not accept the Jewishness of a person born only of a Jewish father, as Reform Judaism does, but would require immersion in the mikveh before marrying such a person. When I asserted that, “if so, you are no different than me; it is just that my standards for conversion are more stringent and consistent with halacha than yours,” there was no response – because there is no response. He does not accept Reform conversions or decisions as halachic, and I don’t accept his as halachic, but, in essence, we treat what we perceive to be inferior conversions identically.

    The Rabbi, as is the wont of non-Orthodox Rabbis, was fond of indicating the many “changes” in halacha that have taken place over the ages. “The Shabbos clock!” – until I noted that the Shabbos clock’s use is regulated by a dispute in the Talmud between Bet Hillel and Bet Shammai on the existence of an obligation to “rest one’s vessels” on Shabbat, and that particular discussion ended rather quickly.

     Conversion was a real bugaboo, and, while understanding why the Orthodox do not accept non-Orthodox conversions, many protested that such should be the case in the State of Israel. My response was quite simple: I live here, not there, and cannot directly influence policy there; undoubtedly, all Jews have an interest in preserving Jewish identity, which must follow the protocol as outlined in the halacha; that the problem is in the conflation of Israeli citizenship and Jewishness (“Israelis have an absolute right to determine who are Israelis. But I never delegated to the Knesset the right to determine “who is a Jew” any more than it has the right to change Shabbat from Saturday to Sunday.”) And I heartily agreed that when the Rabbinate discriminates against genuine converts, they run afoul of the Torah’s prohibition (mentioned in 36 different contexts) of not tormenting the convert, and that when non-Orthodox Jews born of Jewish mothers have a difficult time proving their Jewishness that is certainly outrageous and unacceptable. But this chaos is the obvious consequence of the importation into Israel of more than 300,000 non-Jews from the former Soviet Union, many of whom are practicing Christians who came for economic reasons, and many others who wish to be Jews but do not wish to embrace the Torah and Mitzvot. That problem is likely intractable for the foreseeable future.

    The third point I raised was, to me, the most controversial, but proved to be the most revealing. I stated that my sense was that the discomfort of non-Orthodox Jews in our presence was due primarily (although not exclusively) to their feelings of guilt. I.e., they know they should be living a certain way, and they are not, and therefore our presence in their neighborhoods and streets makes them feel uncomfortable, constant reminders of their “inadequacies” as Jews. I was surprised, and touched, when numerous heads nodded, in recognition of the fact that many, consciously but usually unconsciously, had experienced the same. It was not that non-Orthodox drivers on Shabbat saw Orthodox pedestrians sneering at them, but rather they felt it, perceived it, and reacted to it even if it wasn’t there because of something they have internalized that is deeply personal and painful.

     “Tolerance” was raised, of course, but I stated frankly that our terms needed definition. I am tolerant in the sense that I cannot impose any lifestyle or conduct on anyone, nor do I want such imposition on myself. That type tolerance should be universal. But if “tolerance”means “legitimization” – that all views are equally valid and faithful to Torah, and all paths to G-d equally sacred – there I would have to disagree. Not every contention of every Jew becomes “Judaism” simply because a Jew believes in it, and I explained further that committed non-Orthodox Jews do not evoke the ire of Orthodox Jews because they are simply following what their rabbi teaches, itself a value in Jewish life. That is why these are ultimately disputes between rabbis, not between Jews.

     So, who is the proverbial “good Jew” ? The question was clearly intended to be provocative, and I was accused several times of dodging it, likely because I was not furnishing the answer the questioner wanted. I first asked the questioner to define for me what a “good Jew” is according to him; he declined, and said I was ducking the question. When I stated that I was not interesting in judging the relative merit of different Jews – G-d’s business – he said I was ducking the question. The problem, which for certain he anticipated, was that if I baldly stated that non-orthodox Jews are “bad Jews,” I would confirm their worst suspicions about Orthodox Jews, as well as assume many things beyond my ken. Conversely, if I stated that they were “good Jews,” I would not only be assuming things beyond my ken, but also stating a falsehood in completely discounting the role that observance of Mitzvot plays in defining the life of a Jew. Clearly, the question implied the moral/spiritual equivalence (all religions are good, all people are good) that is the hallmark – and a fatal flaw – of modern liberalism.

     By way of further demurrer, and underscoring the impossibility of the request, I cited the Rambam  (Laws of Repentance, 3:2) that the metric for the “good Jew” is not simply a quantitative calculation. There are some good deeds that outweigh many sins, and some sins outweigh many good deeds, and the precise calculation is only computed by G-d. Was I off the hook ? Not quite.

    Fortunately, I was rescued by one participant who pointed out the obvious: he had recently embraced a greater commitment to Shabbat, eschewing certain prohibited labors and focusing more on a traditional, halachic-oriented Shabbat. “Am I a better Jew now than I was six months ago ? Of course. The more committed you are, the more faithful to halacha you are, of course the better Jew you are.” To which I added two points: first, that the American citizen who obeys the law is a better citizen than the one who violates the law, even if they are both still citizens. That should be obvious. Second, that we should all be in the position and mindset of that individual – we may start at different points but we should always strive to be better Jews. And better Jews are better than they were the day and the week before.

   So, can one drive on Shabbat and be a “good Jew”? It is certainly a grave sin, but that sin has to weighed – by G-d, not man – in the context of that person’s background and understanding of halacha, and other aspects of his life, the savory and the unsavory. But it is certainly a sin that requires rectification, which can only come about through Torah study and greater commitment. In that sense, spiritual complacency is always the worst enemy of every Jew.

    As happens in many aspects of life, hurt feelings are inevitable but often unintended. Some spoke of feelings of rejection after being disinvited from Shabbat events when the inviters learned that they would drive. I explained that the issue was not necessarily the shame the inviters would feel, but the responsibility they would have in directly inducing a Shabbat desecration. Another spoke of the way a brother’s embrace of Torah observance split the family, from whom he is now almost completely alienated. I explained that kiruv that engenders family breakups is construed as a failure, for one reason (among others) that it deprives the penitent of the ability to be a good example to his relatives. As it turned out, the brother had been partly estranged from the family even before he became a baal teshuva.

    It was a remarkable evening, a tribute to the curiosity, persistence and audacity of my host whom I had never met before that night. It was the type of gathering of Jews that should take place more frequently. Many seemed to have the impression that Orthodox rabbis were “not allowed” to address non-Orthodox Jews. That myth, and others, was dispelled. We started a little after 8:00 PM., and I didn’t arrive home until 1:00 AM – on a weeknight, no less, and exactly one week before Pesach. It was a good remember that Jews are thirsting for Torah, and every Jew – Os and non-Os – struggles with different aspects of Torah, whether halacha or hashkafa (law or philosophy), each on his/her own level.

    To be able to help each other out is the living fulfillment of “loving your neighbor as yourself.”

The Science of the Sages

      My recent piece on “Jewish Accomplishment,” especially the parts detailing our Sages’ knowledge of science even in the ancient world, elicited some derisive comments from Jews who apparently have difficulty with religious authority. It is strange how nominally Orthodox Jews can be contemptuous of Chazal, whose words sustain us and whose ideas guide us until today. To take just one example, who can contemplate a Pesach without the contributions of Chazal ? The whole seder is a tribute to their divinely-inspired wisdom and prescience. Most of the hagada consists of verbatim selections from the Mishna, Gemara and Midrashim, and remain both relevant and inspirational after thousands of years. Can the critics claim similar accomplishments ? Of course not. Can they even aspire to those accomplishments, with their theme sedarim of environmentalist/feminist/unionist/etc. hagadot? To judge their success, talk to me in about a thousand years. (Actually, I would like that – talk to me in a  thousand years.)

     Part of their ridicule was based on certain scientific errors that the Talmudic Sages allegedly made, which to them, completely discounted and trivialized the knowledge of science they did have. But the critics make a conceptual error, likely out of ignorance. We should be rightly proud and astonished at Chazal’s knowledge of science, but that is not to say that scientific knowledge is a legacy of Sinai and part of the Mesorah of Torah. All it means is that intelligent people have an obligation to study the science of the times, and to keep current on the latest developments in all spheres of knowledge. From that perspective, their correct conclusions are astounding, and their “errors” were simply based on the flawed scientific information of the day none of which played a direct role in the realm of psak. (Bear in mind that formulations such as “spontaneous generation” were not only consistent with the science of the times, but with another basic halachic corollary – for purposes of halacha, physical phenomena are as we see them in their natural and unaided state. “The Torah speaks the language of man,” as do human beings generally in colloquial discourse. That is why the halacha, and normal people, refer to “sunrise” and “sunset” even though technically the “sun” is neither rising nor setting. So, too, “spontaneous generation” is perceived by the naked eye, even if it is not actually occurring.)

   Are there individuals who can derive scientific knowledge from the Torah ? I imagine there might have been, and might be, but I do not know any. We have no scientific mesorah, only an obligation to seek wisdom from every source and acknowledge the truth regardless of its spokesmen. Hence, the great Rebbi Yehuda HaNasi had no qualms about conceding that on a certain scientific matter (involving the sun’s rotation) in which the “wise men of Israel” disputed the “wise men of the nations” that “their view is preferable to ours,” i.e., the view of the non-Jewish scholars should prevail (Pesachim 94b). For that comment, Rebbi was not dismissed as Prince of Israel, nor was his official Tanna Society card confiscated. He is merely praised by us as a person of integrity.

    The critics should be gratified by such statements, and intellectual honesty, which was unheard of in the ancient world, through medieval times and even today, especially in “religious” circles. Jews never entertained persecuting a Galileo Galilei figure, whose scientific conclusions aroused the enmity of the 17th century Catholic establishment. (He recanted. Fortunately, he was pardoned by Pope John Paul II in 1992, and he received a posthumous apology from the Church.) The point is that persecution of scientists was and is unknown in Jewish life, except, I suppose, when scientists exceed their areas of expertise and begin pontificating on matters of morality and mesorah.

     The Torah was not given to us as a book of science, history, archeology or any secular realm but rather as divine wisdom that governs how man should live and pursue spiritual and intellectual perfection.

     How is it that some Jews cannot take pride in the mindboggling scholarship of our spiritual shepherds, then and now ? For example, one should marvel at the fact that the length of the solar year (according to Rav Ada bar Ahava) is 365 days, 5 hours, 55 minutes and 25-25/47th seconds, while the US Naval Observatory calculates it as exactly the same, except for 25.439 seconds. It doesn’t matter whether it was Rav Ada’s calculation or derived from the science of the day; it is clear from the dispute in the Gemara that he did not simply parrot an opinion but did his own independent research – as Chazal did regarding the conduction of electricity through metal, or (what became known as) Halley’s Comet, or that Chazal perceived the earth as “a ball” (Bamidbar Rabba 13:14) and verified it experientially. (Many such fascinating tidbits about the wisdom of the Sages in all areas of life are found in “A Book of Jewish Curiosities” published in 1955 by my wife’s grandfather, David M. Hausdorff a”h.)

    It might be that the resentment of the critics stems from their discontent with some of the Sages’ moral mandates, especially when they conflict with the modern agendas over which so many obsess and through which they sit in judgment of the qualifications of the Talmudic masters and their descendants. Or, it could simply be a testament to the dearth of Torah knowledge among some Jews, who have never learned with a Torah master and so cannot distinguish between mesorah, halacha, homiletics and general knowledge.

    And that is a crying shame. Ignorance of our heritage is the bane of Jewish existence, but does not stop Jews from weighing in on many subjects beyond their current capacities. In a world in which Koreans have fallen in love with Talmud study (www.israelnationalnews.com/News/News.aspx/143192) as the fount of all Jewish wisdom, should Jews willfully deprive themselves of their own heritage ?

     The secret of Jewish life is summed up by two words from the hagada of the Sages:  Tzei u’lmad – “Go forth and learn!” Then we will all take pride in our origins and heritage, in our commitment to wisdom and intellectual honesty, and in the special blessings that G-d bestowed upon His people on Pesach, this holiday of our founding.

Real Questions

    Imagine your son asks a simple question at the seder, like “why must you have such a long discussion of the Exodus from Egypt?” and you respond: “rasha, evil child, you said ‘why must you have ?’ Does that mean that you are not part of the seder ? You deserve to be shunned, ostracized, and banished from the family, if we don’t knock your teeth out altogether.” And then you tell him how you really feel: “you don’t deserve to be redeemed, if you had been in Egypt, we would have left you behind, you’re just no good.”

     This colloquy must sound familiar to some people – because that is how we treat the “wicked” son. He just asks a simple question – “what is this service to you?” – and he is lambasted for it. But on the surface, it doesn’t seem like such an aggressive, antagonistic, heretical question. He did say lachem (you) – but that is not much different from the “wise” son’s style of questioning, who also said you (etchem). And are we trying to drive away the wicked son, who at least came to the seder ? Shall we assault his dignity –  tell him we will break his teeth, call him an atheist, tell him he wouldn’t have been redeemed?” Why are we so hard on him?
    The whole seder revolves around questions – so how wise is it to rule some questions out of bounds? Undoubtedly – and this has been verified statistically – young Jews have been turned away from a life of Torah because their questions were ridiculed, or dismissed, or not answered – or worse – their questions generated a vicious counterattack on the part of the person question – whether Rabbi, teacher, parent: “Only a heretic would ask such a question!”

    And at the end of the day, that question of the wicked son – “what is this service to you?” – was never answered. So why are we so harsh on this child ?

     Rav Meir Simcha Hakohen of Dvinsk (the Meshech Chochma) explained that the answer can be found in the verses themselves. The Torah emphasizes the “wise” son’s question: “When your son asks you ‘what are these laws and testimonies, etc.’”(Devarim 6:20) Concerning the “simple” son’s query, the Torah relates: “When your son will ask you tomorrow, ‘what is this?” (Shmot 13:14) But the “wicked” son’s question is not really a question: “And it will be that your sons say to you, what is this service to you?’” (Shmot 12:26)

     What a difference! The wise and simple sons ask and then “leimor,” saying – they anticipate and desire a dialogue, they want an answer. The “wicked” son doesn’t ask – he says. Sure, he puts his statement in the form of a question, like on Jeopardy, but he doesn’t really want an answer. It is “ki yomru”, he says it – and there is no “leimor,” saying – there is no sense that this is a discussion or a dialogue. His mind is already made up. He doesn’t ask – he makes pronouncements.

     A heretic once visited Rav Chaim Brisker and said that he has some questions on Judaism he would like answered. Rav Chaim said to him: “if you really had questions, we could answer them. But you don’t have questions – to you, your questions are really answers. You have teirutzim, not kushyot. You don’t want to observe Mitzvot, so you look for “questions” that for you constitute “answers,” rationalizations for your lifestyle. There is no answer for that.”

     That is why the Hagada says “because he separated from the group, he denied G-d” – not that he denied G-d and then separated from the group. His ideology is b’diavad, post-facto; it just seeks to justify the decisions he has already made.

      There are many people who ask questions – and don’t really want answers. Answers can be very limiting, very inhibiting, and even very challenging. Answers can cause us to re-think, re-evaluate, perhaps admit error, and even sometimes to change. Some people are more comfortable with questions than with answers.

    The true servant of Hashem is not the person without questions – such a person might not be a servant of Hashem at all. The true servant of G-d has questions – and seeks answers. He looks for solutions. With such a child – and adult – we can dialogue, interact, fall and rise together, and embark on the lifelong quest of Torah study. Through such children, Jewish communities are built; and through such communities, the nation redeemed 3333 years ago reminds itself why Hashem chose us, and sanctified us from among all the nations, and prepares itself for our own journey from servitude to redemption, speedily and in our days.

 A happy and kosher Pesach to all !