Category Archives: Philosophy

A BLIGHT UNTO THE NATIONS

      Once again, Jewish identity is on the front-burner, and Jewish patriotism is under siege, with the news of two intermarriages involving public figures. Last weekend, Brooklyn Congressman (D, of course) Anthony Wiener married a non-Jew (a Muslim woman), with Bill Clinton himself presiding over the festivities. Wiener, a Charles Schumer acolyte with the same brashness and love for the camera as his mentor, has always been a “pro-Israel” congressman and aspires to be New York City’s next Mayor. Should his intermarriage play any role in determining his political future ?

      A cogent argument can be made that it should play no role, especially in a country that pursuant to the Constitution has no religious litmus test for electoral office. An official should be judged, the argument goes, based on his conduct in office, or his positions, integrity, values, intelligence, etc. Nevertheless, I disagree, because people vote for a public official because they identify with him/her, and feel that person can best represent their values and goals. Can a Jew who betrays his people by marrying out of the faith be trusted to look after the interests of the Jewish people ? I don’t see how. Notwithstanding that they could do it, I am not sure I would trust them to do it. And even though people vote for candidates who ostensibly will be the best representative of the polity and not of their particular ethnic group, the reality is people are inclined to vote for those who are considered role models, or at least reflective of the norms and ideals of their lives and the interests of their more parochial class. That is life among the diverse constituencies in New York City, where ethnic politics is a reality.

     More troubling is the recognition that a Brooklyn Congressman – Brooklyn, of all places, and a person who is unabashedly Jewish in his affect and speech patterns – would think that intermarriage today is so accepted and conventional that it should not be deemed controversial at all. That sad state of affairs should distress all of us, as it indicates the transformation of American Jewry in just 50 years – from rejection and abhorrence of intermarriage to the ho-hum, even unremarkable response of the Jewish (especially non-Orthodox) world today.

    That humdrum, desultory reaction informs the secular Jewish coverage of the impending nuptials of celebrity intermarried couple number two, Chelsea Clinton to Marc Mezvinsky, the Jewish (described as “Conservative”) son of two former (D, of course) Congresspersons. It is not the first such marriage of Jews into high-powered, influential non-Jewish families: leaping to mind are the marriages of Al Gore’s daughter to a Jew named Schiff (since ended in divorce) and Caroline Kennedy’s marriage to Edward Schlossberg, still going strong.

     Today’s Jerusalem Post carried an absolutely inane piece entitled “Jews Wring their Hands Over Chelsea Clinton’s Nuptials” (http://www.jpost.com/JewishWorld/JewishNews/Article.aspx?id=181609), the hand-wringing over the question of “will Chelsea convert ?”

    To which the response of normal Jews should be, “and if she does, so what ?” Does she have any intention of committing to the Jewish people, of living a Torah-centered life ? Will she observe the commandments in any substantive sense ? Does she feel any grief over the destruction of the two Temples that we will commemorate this coming Tuesday on the Ninth of Av ? Indeed, Chelsea may have more religious sensibilities than her beau, which begs the question: why doesn’t he convert ? If his Jewish identity is so tenuous and means so little to him, then why impose the charade on her ? Be a man, and charade yourself.

     And in the charade that much of modern Jewish life (outside the world of Torah) has become, note these priceless questions from the above-referenced article, that apparently concern at least one Jew (the writer): “Will there at least be a rabbi co-officiating? A huppa? A glass?”  Who in the real, live, thinking, breathing, Jewish world could possibly care about that ? Having a rabbi “co-officiate” at an intermarriage is like having Mahmoud Ahmadinejad swear in the next American President on Capitol Hill, January 20, 2013. It is a traitorous act that obviously demeans the (steadily meaningless) term “rabbi.” Does a “huppa,” the symbol of the Jewish home, have any relevance when the home will not be Jewish ? Does “breaking the glass,” a reminder of the churban (destruction of the Temples and Jerusalem), have any significance when the marriage itself is a churban­ ­ – and when the mother of the bride is determined to weaken the Jewish sovereignty over Jerusalem today and G-d-forbid precipitate another churban ? What a macabre joke.

     But the approach itself is reflective of a growing attitude among non-Orthodox Jews – both publicly and privately – that intermarriage is a reality, and we must accept it, and participate, and attend in the hopes of “influencing them for the good,” so they remain “part of the Jewish people,” “giving money to Jewish causes” and perhaps having a Menorah next to their tree, fast half a day on Yom Kippur and eat matza at the Pesach seder – in other words, the all symbols and no substance that unfortunately characterizes too much of Jewish life, especially among the non-Orthodox. So, make the best of it !

    Reality check: for the sake of decorum, we shy away from the statistical reality of Jewish life. Forget the 50% intermarriage rate, give or take a few percentage points either way. It means nothing and says less. The real rate is more devastating: among non-Orthodox Jews, the intermarriage rate hovers close to 70% ! No wonder their rabbis and leaders say we must accept it, and reach out, and embrace sham conversions, and the like. No wonder they blame the “openness of American society;” that is far more comforting than to look themselves in the mirror at the devastation they have wrought in the Jewish world. No wonder non-Orthodox Rabbis are often hired or fired based on their comfort level with performing intermarriages. And no wonder Anthony Wiener assumes – perhaps even correctly – that his intermarriage will play no significant role in his political future.

     On a recent TV panel with two non-Orthodox rabbis, I realized that their perceptions of conversion itself are flawed almost beyond repair. They maintained that conversion requires immersion in a mikveh for men and women, and circumcision for men. My attempts to explain that those are the procedures of conversion, not the substance, fell flat. The substance of conversion is an acceptance of Mitzvot and a willingness to be part of the fate and destiny of the Jewish people. When that commitment is manifest and complete, then the procedures of conversion can be carried out. I might as well have been talking Swahili; there was certainly no realization on their part that their doctrines and teachings have inevitably and ineluctably led their flock to this national catastrophe.

    The irony is that this is no criticism at all of Chelsea Clinton or the new Mrs. Wiener, neither of whom have done anything wrong. It is the Jewish spouse in each case who is committing the crime against the Jewish people, a crime that cannot be washed away by the sprinkling of holy water or the mumbling of a few incantations, or their Jewish equivalent. For sure, there are always people who point out that the children of the Jewish mother is Jewish, and therefore ripe for outreach, and even the children of the non-Jewish mother can be “raised Jewish.” But this is a pipedream, and waste of resources. One can jump out of a plane without a parachute and still survive, but it is not something that is anticipated and planned for.

    Jews eschew intermarriage because marriage creates a home that will embody and transmit the unique values and ideals of the Jewish people as received from G-d. It is our role as G-d’s witnesses that have merited us His grace and protection since our national origins more than 3800 years ago, and that role cannot be embraced by one who does not share those premises, that commitment, and that sense of privilege or identity. Serious, committed converts are a blessing to the Jewish people, as well as a challenge to the genuineness of the born Jew. To the extent that Jews tolerate intermarriage is ultimately a reflection of their own commitments, and the seriousness with which they perceive the above-mentioned divinely-ordained role. When intermarriage becomes commonplace, and “Jewish” writers dismiss concerns as narrow-minded and mock the genuine grief that traditional Jews feel over the impending loss of any Jew, they have unfortunately revealed the shallowness of their own commitment, and the insecurities they feel about their own Jewish identity.

    Just two more reasons to mourn this coming Tish’a B’Av, and two more reasons to redouble our efforts to promulgate the ideals of Torah far and wide so that intermarriage remains anathema and becomes increasingly rare, and all Jews embrace the beauty of a divine system that demands that we be a “light  – not a blight, which is intermarriage – onto the nations.”

The Rise of Orthopraxy

This column is featured in this week’s Jewish Press.

     A few months ago, football’s New York Jets willingly accommodated Jewish fans by moving their home opener from the evening to the early afternoon of the same day. That evening – Yom Kippur – would have presumably found thousands of the Jets faithful in synagogue and not at the Meadowlands or glued to their television sets.

This altruistic act – moving the game out of prime time – speaks volumes about the Jets’ sensitivity to Jewish sensibilities (perhaps it even propelled them to a successful season), to the influence of politicians and civic leaders to cause a commotion over trivialities, and to our sense of acceptance in general society.

From their perspective, it was a most decent and generous act. From our perspective, though, it is less salutary, and represented a triumph of Orthopraxy over Orthodoxy.

While Orthodoxy literally means “correct belief” but in actuality encompasses an entire range of thought and behavior that is regulated by Torah, Orthopraxy (“correct action”) is much more limited in scope, requiring only the adherence to certain behavioral norms without any semblance of philosophical commitment to the system from which such behavioral norms emerged.

Obviously, some of the obsession with sports is nothing less than silliness; who wins or loses – or even plays – does not matter at all in the real world, and sports and other forms of entertainment are just diversions from the more significant endeavors in which we are engaged.

What happens, then, when the diversions become the essence, or at least a critical component, of a person’s life – so much so that one’s thoughts on Yom Kippur might have otherwise been on the game and not on life, family, health, sustenance and the fate of the world?

That is a sad commentary on the spiritual state of some of our fellow Jews, and begs the question: Is it any less contemptible to spend three hours on erev Yom Kippur fascinated by grown men pounding each other in pursuit of moving an oval-shaped pigskin across a goal line than it would be to do the same on Yom Kippur night?

Not really.

The only difference is that there would be no technical violation of the rules of Judaism to so while away one’s time on erev Yom Kippur. Nonetheless, the broader and more crucial questions are: Where was the person’s head, and heart, at that most solemn time? Where were his thoughts? Were they on repentance and introspection – a matter of the soul? Or were they just on weathering the impending 25-hour fast – a matter of the body?

The answer is clear, as it was in Isaiah’s time when he decried the insincerity of fasting without repentance, of the tendency of some Jews to underscore some deeds and not others because none was internalized as the will of Hashem or as divine service:

“They pretend to seek Me every day, they pretend to desire knowledge of My ways . they inquire of Me about righteous laws, as if they desire the nearness of God” (Isaiah 58:2).

The Orthoprax are an informal, incognito group of unknown size and scope who, for the most part, practice halachic norms but do not really believe in God (or that He chose us as the nation that would carry His moral message to mankind) or understand what they are doing. They might not even believe in the divine origin of the Torah, but identify themselves with the Orthodox community for social, ethnic, cultural or even aesthetic reasons. We usually do not know who they are – after all, it is a matter of the heart – but we do know how and where to find them.

They are the Jews who will come to shul – but barely daven. They will perfunctorily mouth a few words here and there while engaged in a persistent but likely not-very-stimulating conversation with their neighbors (people they would not talk to outside of shul for more than five minutes the rest of the week).

No wonder the Zohar (Parshat Terumah) labels people who talk in shul as atheists; they sit in the House of God but are oblivious to His presence. The words of the davening are either unfamiliar to them or do not resonate with them. Their only contribution to decorum is the occasional shushing of their children, a vulgar act of hypocrisy that, as Faranak Margolese noted in her book Off the Derech, is a major factor in turning off children to the life of Torah.

The Orthoprax attend shul because it is a social expectation, and their conduct in shul reflects it.

They are the Jews who are nominally shomrei Shabbat – they would never drive to shul, for example – but they will look for ways to swim or play tennis or baseball on Shabbat or encourage their children to do so, or leave the television on (or have the ubiquitous housekeeper turn it on) or read business newspapers on Shabbat, or perhaps even sneak in a business phone call or two when no one is looking.

Their children will text each in stealth (texting being the preferred method of communication even between teenagers who are sitting next to each other). Their divine service is external; if no human being sees them sin, it is as if it hasn’t happened.

That state of affairs was well known to Rabban Yochanan ben Zakai, who admonished his disciples that “their awe of Heaven should parallel their awe of men” (Berachot 28b), the latter being more pervasive and substantial. The Orthoprax will “observe” Shabbat – they will not mow their lawns or drive to the beach – but Shabbat as a day of communion with the Creator is almost non-existent.

They are the Jews who will dress the part – as if, indeed, there is such a thing as “Jewish dress” beyond tzitzit and kippah for men and modest clothes for all. But they will conduct their business without integrity, stealing, conniving, cheating Jew and non-Jew alike, underreporting their taxes, hondling with contractors after the work is completed, stiffing their employees of their due wages – and often professing that they are acting perversely for the glory of Torah or to benefit a favored charity.

The Orthoprax will do good works, but those are socially useful and divorced from any sense of divine worship.

Most recently, Orthopraxy underlies such phenomena as the female clergy, the Partnership Minyanim (in which women chant portions of the davening, and a quorum of both ten men and ten women are needed to begin services), and the integration of Christians into special worship services.

These innovations blur or cross the line that defines halachic practice, and all, on some level, conflate self-worship with divine worship. All seek to make halacha “user friendly” and to render the Torah into putty that can be molded as the user desires – the Torah as akin to the American Constitution, which, Thomas Jefferson warned, could be twisted and shaped by unscrupulous judges “as an artist shapes a ball of wax.”

Note how the proliferation of Orthopraxy transcends all the traditional (and artificial) divisions in Orthodox life. It compasses right wing and left wing, modern, centrist and yeshivish, haredi and non-haredi alike. And one might well contend that all the deviations listed above trample on the halacha and the sacred institutions of Jewish life, and therefore strip the “ortho” out of that “praxy” – they are not correct practices at all. But that contention is only partially true.

There are those of us who have become quite proficient – crafty is a better word – in manipulating the sources, in finding obscure opinions that, interpreted innovatively, tend to justify precisely what we want to do. Such people no longer desire to ascertain the will of God, but rather to satisfy their own inclinations while remaining in “technical” compliance with halacha, very broadly construed. It is as if they have transformed the Almighty into a divine caddy who carries for us a bagful of clubs known as “halacha,” and they reserve the right to remove any club when they so desire, and use them any way in which they desire. Most lacking is the concept of the Jew as the servant of God.

 The Orthoprax wish to remain part of the community, relying on general notions of tolerance and Western concepts of religion as a “private matter.” And they do remain part of the community – often integral parts of the community – but a community no longer defined by commitment to the fundamental principles of Judaism, by subservience to God, or by eternal norms and values.

 It is a social community, ethnically based and often geographically defined, but not a covenantal community. It is a community in which people perform actions that are roughly similar, but their hearts are not united. We certainly retain common enemies – Ahmadinejad is uninterested in these fine distinctions – but the nation of Israel should stand for something greater than that some evil people hate us.

  Is there a value in Orthopraxy – in remaining part of a community of behavioral norms even if the philosophical commitment in lacking? Some point to a cryptic passage in the Yerushalmi, and in the Pesikta, citing, in Hashem’s name: “Would that they abandon Me and still observe My Torah!” As some explain, it is therefore better to observe the mitzvot even with a lack of faith than to observe only if fully committed. Undoubtedly, there is some merit to this – at least the individual practitioner remains tethered to the Jewish community, however tenuously. But that understanding is grievously flawed.

 Better understood, the passage (a rhetorical question) seems to be admonishing us that it is impossible to abandon God and still observe the Torah for long; we can indulge ourselves for a time, but eventually even the practice of mitzvot will wither without an internal commitment.

Or Chazal are teaching us stages of development: people may begin the observance of mitzvot without a full ideological commitment, or must continue even if such commitment occasionally wanes – but eventually commitment and practice must coalesce, and the observance of mitzvot must mature from mere deeds to the development of the complete Torah personality. If not, then our divine service remains stunted, and not a little phony.

 Worse, our youth are very sensitive to this double game, and some become disenchanted. They internalize the corrupt idea that in Judaism externals count for everything and sincerity for nothing. Like Esav asking his father halachic questions in a fatuous attempt to demonstrate his piety, our children can learn to play the adult game just as well as we can: emptily mouth the words of tefilla, read parsha sheets at the Shabbat table while clueless to what they are reading, or internalize the idea that the most harmful aspect of sin is not the sin itself but getting caught. Once learned, that approach is not easily forgotten, until the child either finds better role models or discards his commitment entirely.

   There is a bright side to all this, or at least elements of comfort. The rise of Orthopraxy is on some level just a reflection of the human condition. The criticism applies to everyone, bar none. We are all flawed and all sinners, and the revelation of the flaws of public figures – even religious figures – is usually just a matter of time.

 “For there is no man so wholly righteous on earth that he [always] does good and never sins” (Kohelet 7:20) – and yet we are still stunned and shaken when it happens.

We must distinguish, though, between personal frailties and systemic breaches. The “righteous” sinner (an oxymoron, but bear with me) stumbles because of human nature – an inability to control his instinctual drives – but confesses his sins, admits his guilt and does not seek to rationalize his wrongdoing.

There is, however, a “wicked” sinner, as well, who protests his innocence, who claims he has been misunderstood, who defends his actions on grounds that others are doing it, or, worst of all, that what he did is not sinful at all because the halacha changed, or should change, or he found an arcane but lenient source allowing him to do what he wants to do. The former is the position in which most of us find ourselves, and which is addressed by the commandment of repentance; the latter is a systemic violation for which there is no simple rectification. It is an act of spiritual gerrymandering by the sinner who has carved out for himself exemptions from halacha.

  How do we triumph over Orthopraxy and reconnect our divine service to God? We can – must – infuse our mitzvot with a recognition of their divine imperative by returning to fundamentals. We should study ourselves, and teach our children, not only “how” we do things but also “why.” We all must learn the details of the mitzvot – from Shabbat to Pesach, from kashrut to monetary integrity, from the laws of Chanukah to the laws of Tisha B’Av – but also the framework of those mitzvot, how they combine to create a faithful, moral, decent servant of Hashem.

 We must refine our davening so that – as Chazal ruled – it is better to say less with kavanah (a concentrated focus) than more without kavanah, and lose the notion that our prayer obligation is satisfied through the daily recitation of a certain quota of words. We must restore a sense of reverence and sanctity to the shul, or stay outside until we are ready. And before performing any mitzvah, we must pronounce, figuratively if not literally, that we are “ready and prepared to fulfill the commandment of our Creator.”

 Kabbalat HaTorah (the acceptance of the Torah) required naaseh v’nishma – the commitment “to do” preceded the commitment “to learn.” It preceded it, but did not vitiate it. Naaseh cannot endure unless there is an ongoing nishma – and Talmud Torah must encompass not only what we should do but also what we should think and how we should feel.

 The greatest of all orthodoxies – those correct beliefs that govern our lives – is, then, humility – humility that will enable us to absorb the divine values of Torah and not those of modern man, and recreate a nation of thinking, rational, wise, intelligent, good and ethical servants of God, a light unto the nations.

“Where does it say it ?”

 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.

Blessings and Curses

      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.”