Showing posts with label Sefer HaChinuch. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sefer HaChinuch. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

WHAT Are They Leaving? - On re-evaluating our educational goals to make Judaism more compelling


At the end of high school, I almost gave up on Orthodox Judaism. No, I was not going to abandon everything, but after 12 years of Jewish education that had mostly not spoken to me, I was not interested in learning more Torah, or continuing to do mitzvos. It wasn’t that I no longer believed in God, although I certainly could not have explained what such belief meant, as much as there was a lot “out there” that I found enticing, and little in what I had learned about Judaism that made me feel that I should refrain from living like a typical college student. Although I was told I would enjoy a year studying in israel, I was pretty sure I did not want to invest more time in an activity which did not mean anything to me. It was only due to a fluke that I changed my mind.


There is much talk about why many young people are leaving the Orthodox community (sometimes it feels like too much talk). Currently, two studies are are being conducted about why charedim go “OTD”, and the defection of Modern Orthodox youth was a large part of the discussion at a symposium on the future of Modern Orthodoxy I attended yesterday evening. While many are asking some variation of “Why are they leaving?”, I want to ask a different question. What are young people leaving when they leave Orthodoxy? In other words, when a Jew from a MO or Charedi world leaves observance around the age of 18-22 (roughly college age), what is their understanding of Judaism that they are leaving behind?


I ask this question not because I believe that any approach can stop all, or even most people from leaving, but rather because I wonder whether our educational system (and with that term I include families, shuls and even camps, as well as schools) is providing a rich enough approach to Judaism. Is what college-aged students have experienced and know, enough to even make it a struggle to leave?


What does the average graduate of our schools know about Jewish philosophy? Have they studied Rav Saadyah Gaon, Moreh Nevuchim and/or the Kuzari? Do graduates of MO schools know anything about Rav Kook, other than, perhaps, the fact that he was one of the chief-rabbis of Israel? What does the average graduate of a yeshivish high school know of the Ramchal or the Michtav MiEliyahu? For goodness sakes, do chassidim study chassidus in their schools? How about the שש מצוות תמידיות, the six mitzvos about which the Sefer HaChinuch says we are obligated at all times, thereby suggesting that, at least on some level, they are essential to Judaism? What is Ahavas HaShem? What do we mean when we talk of God being one?


When I think about all that I have learned since high school, I shudder to think that I could have given up on such a rich tradition that includes so many thinkers who have inspired me. I likely would have stopped keeping Shabbos, without having ever been exposed to Heschel’s The Sabbath. I would have stopped keeping many mitzvos, without ever having been taught any of the many approaches to ta’amei hamitzvos. I wasn’t exactly davening too often at that point, but it saddens me that I had never heard about the Piaczena Rebbe, or the Avudraham after 12 years of Jewish education. I could go on and on.


Jewish observance makes demands of us, and consciously or not, one of things that someone who leaves asks themselves before departing, is why they should sacrifice for Judaism. I would hope that those who stay, do so (among other reasons) due to having discovered a deep, meaningful experience in our Avodas HaShem. I wonder whether we are making the chance of discovering that depth and meaning enough of a realistic possibility during the first two decades of our children’s and/or student’s lives.


Of course, even one who agrees with my premise might wonder where we can find the time to teach those things. The answer is quite simple. It is time to re-evaluate what we are teaching in schools (as well as what we learn in shul and camp). The basic curriculum that is taught in most day schools is based on an approach that was designed by Torah U’Mesorah more than 50 years ago. Do we really believe that the needs of today’s children are the same as they were back then? In yeshivish yeshivas, the emphasis is almost overwhelmingly on gemara, with aggadeta, where one could be exposed to Jewish thought, excluded. While it is claimed that an interested bachur can learn these things if he is curious, many do not know how much they don’t know, and are not given a chance to discover what might interest them. While gemara-only might work for some, if we define success narrowly enough, there are many whom are being pushed away by this approach. This is particularly ironic when we consider that up until well into the 20th century few men ever studied gemara, particularly for as many years as bnei yeshiva learn it today. While Bais Yaakovs do teach more broadly than their male counterparts, there is still much depth that could be added.

As I said earlier, there are many reasons why people leave Orthodoxy. There is a lot we can learn from talking to those who left, if we want to make our communities better. It is time to at least make the decision to leave, a more challenging one, by teaching the depth and meaning of our tradition.

"At the end of high school, I almost gave up on Orthodox Judaism. No, I was not going to abandon everything, but after...

Posted by Pesach Sommer on Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Second Chances- Thoughts on this Peisach Sheini




For a long time I have connected to the idea of Pesach Sheini. Being that today, the 14th of Iyar, is Pesach Sheni, I thought I'd touch on a few ideas about the mitzvah and why it speaks to me, as a way of explaining why I chose it as the name for my blog.

One year after leaving Egypt, the Jewish people were commanded to observe Pesach (why it was necessary at that time and whether this was a one time commandment is beyond the scope of this essay). Among other things, this commandment meant that they would sacrifice the Korban Pesach. There were a number of men who were impure, having come in contact with a dead body. They approached Moshe and asked why they should lose out on this mitzvah. Moshe was told by God that they would be given a second chance, one month later to give this sacrifice. This was not a one time event. Each year, those who were unable to give the Korban Pesach, were given a second opportunity on Pesach Sheini. (For an incredible post and story about a Pesach Sheini seder in a concentration camp, click here).

There are several obvious questions on this whole episode:

  1. Why did these men think they deserved a second chance? They were impure, a consequence of which is that they can not give the sacrifice.
  2. Why did they want a second chance? After all, they were exempt from the mitzvah and would not have been punished.
  3. Why did God give them a second chance? By other korbanos, if you miss it, there is no second chance.

Clearly, these men had not become impure due to carelessness on their part. Otherwise their question would not have made sense, and Moshe would not have taken it seriously. Whether we go with a simple reading of the text they were simply involved with some issue of taking care of someone who died, or we accept the ideas proposed in the midrash, they were involved with a mitzvah which required them to become impure.

The second question brings us to the crux of the issue. What are mitzvohs and why do we do them? Chazal teach us that “Sechar mitzvah, mitzvah”, the reward for a mitzvah is a mitzvah. Based on the Rambam, I would suggest that this means that the reward for doing a mitzvah is...that you have done a mitzvah. Any other possible reward is beyond the point. By doing a mitzvah you have encountered God. That is the true reward.

Rav Kalonymous Kalman Shapira ztvk'l, the Holy Piaczena Rebbe, became the rebbe for the Jews of the Warsaw Ghetto. Through Divine providence, his collected drashos, delivered to Jews who were suffering terribly (as was he), were saved. Imagine what it must have been like trying to give hope to people who had none. In one drasha, he discusses the idea from Pirkei Avos that we should serve God without the expectation to receive reward. Basing himself on Rashi, he suggests that even if there was no reward, we would still serve HaShem. In the most terrible situation, he reminded his desperate followers that serving God, no matter the circumstances, was the greatest thing possible. Mitzvohs are themselves are the reward. With this understanding, it becomes clear why those who could not give the Korban Pesach wanted a second chance.

Still, we are left to wonder why here, by this specific mitzvah, a second chance was given. The Sefer HaChinuch suggests that because so much of our beliefs are reinforced through the mitzvohs of Pesach, including, belief in creation, and that God loves us and is involved in our lives, it was important that everyone have the chance to observe them. I'd like to extend this idea a little.

When we bury the dead, we demonstrate that we believe many important ideas. Among them are a belief that our lives matter, that we have a connection to the creator, a connection that comes through, among other things, performing mitzvohs. I would suggest that a second chance was given davka here and davka to these men because they recognized the true purpose of mitzvohs in general and the mitzvohs of the Korban Pesach in particular.

For nearly two years, I went through a very rough time. Part of that was a religious crisis. I did not know if or how it would be resolved. On this Pesach Sheini, I celebrate the fact that I again connect to God through his Torah and mitzvohs. I thank God that he did not lose faith in me, even as I questioned my faith in him.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Missing the Forest for the Trees- A new approach to teaching halacha


Why don't we just sleep for 25 hours, so we don't do any melacha?”, my student said sarcastically. As much as I might have wished for her to have expressed her frustration with Hilchos Shabbos in a different way, she was not the only frustrated by the school mandated halacha curriculum. I disliked having to teach halacha that way. Although there was a small attempt to get into the ideas behind the halachos, in my estimation, it was far from enough. What follows is an attempt to suggest a better approach to teaching halacha to high school students.

When I was in the Aish HaTorah Kollel, I first heard about the Sheish Mitzvos Timidiyos (the six constant commandments), from Rav Noach Weinberg zt”l. The SMT, which as far as I know, was first discussed by the Sefer HaChinuch, are six mitzvos which have some sort of “constancy” that the other 607 mitzvohs do not. The six mitzvos on the list are:

  1. Anochi HaShem Elokecha- I am HaShem your God (It is beyond the scope of the current discussion to discuss whether it is a mitzvah and what the mitzvah might be)
  2. Lo Yihiyeh lecha elohim acheirm al pa'nai- do not serve other powers
  3. Shema Yisrael- God is one in every sense of the term
  4. V'ahavta- Loving god
  5. Es HaShem Elokecha tir'eh (Is this the correct citation?)- Fear/Awe of God
  6. Lo sasuru- Do not stray after forbidden desires

The way I understand the “constancy” of these six mitzvos, is that while the other 607 are not obligatory at every moment of life, these six mitzvos are always to be observed. I never thought to question why, or to draw any further conclusions. Recently, my friend Yehoshua Hershberg shared an explanation that blew me away. I am hesitant to bring the context, as the topic is one which could sidetrack the idea, but I do think the context is too important to leave out. Other than direct quotes, the ideas in this essay are only my own, and any mistakes should be attributed to me, and not to Yehoshua.

His comments came up in a discussion which involved a discussion about the push, by some men and women, for women to have more options in performing mitzvos from which they are not halachically obligated, and which have, for the most part, if not entirely, traditionally been performed only by men. Yehoshua made six points, five of which are relevant to this discussion, which are quoted verbatim:

  1. Women and men will never be ritually equal in halachic Judaism
    2. The natural thrust of feminism, the philosophy influencing all this, is to drive towards complete equality
    3. Feminism and improvements in women's education have created a situation where many orthodox women want to be more involved in Judaism and want to be "closer to God"
    (author's note- the quotation marks are there, only because he is quoting from something that was said, not as a way of disparaging this desire), etc.
    4. The general philosophy of most rishonim is that the way to be close to God is through the emotional/intellectual mitzvos, of which men AND women are equal in their obligation.
    5. I would advise that, in general, for men and women, (4) should be an important educational message (without underwriting the ritual mitzvos).

While one might quibble with the second point and suggest that there are various approached to halachic feminism, I do not wish to get distracted by that point. Additionally, while one can discuss what the mitzvah or mitzvohs will be at which the line will be drawn, despite any halachic attempt to being inclusive, I tend to agree that full ritual equality is an impossibility.

Yehoshua went on to elaborate on his fifth point, and tie it in to the SMT. He suggested that these six mitzvos are singled out due to being qualitatively different from the other mitzvos. While the other commandments are means to an end, the SMT are the end to which the other 607 mitzvohs point. I have my thoughts on why no bein adam l'chaveiro mitzvos (commandments between person and person) are on the list, but I will not share them here. Thus, while the halachic system does not have full ritual equality with those 607, both men and women are obligated in mitzvos which fall into each of those six categories, and thus, are equal in terms of the ultimate goal of mitzvah performance.

Whether or not one accepts these implications as a way of, at least partially, dealing with the halachic/hashkafic analysis of the desire for women to have more ritual opportunities, I wish to take his fifth statement at face value and deal with the implications for general Torah education for both men and women.

One of the subjects that is most difficult for teachers in Jewish schools to teach is halacha. Besides the challenge of not making it dry and boring (which can be overcome), getting students to see mitzvah observance as a means and not as an end to itself is a big challenge. Furthermore, even if we can inculcate the message that mitzvah observance is only a means, the end is often misunderstood as being some version of “mitzvah points”, and/or Olam Haba and other types of reward. Yehoshua's approach would allow for a paradigm shift. Whether we are to take Rambam's approach and suggest that the mitzvos are a means to achieving Y'dias HaShem (knowledge of God), or Crescas's approach that the goal is Ahavas HaShem (love of God) each mitzvah would be taught within a framework that treats it as a means to one of these goals through the prism of the Sheish Mitzvos Timidiyos. This would, of course, have to include an emphasis on ta'amei HaMitzvos (possible reasons for the commandments), with a strong preference on various approaches, both rational (Rambam and Chinuch etc.) as well as spiritual/mystical (rav Kook, chassidus etc.).

It is my contention that such an approach could complete change the way we view mitzvah observance, how we teach it, and, most importantly, how we live it.