Showing posts with label Torah Misinai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Torah Misinai. Show all posts

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Guidance for the Perplexed? - Does the Orthodox community offer help to those who are struggling with religious beliefs?


What is Orthodox Judaism?


If it is a sociological group, a club of sorts, then we can make any membership rules we want. Want to join? Believe what we do, think as we do, or you are not welcome. If however we use the term Orthodox Judaism to describe a (the? the best? the only? -as some might say) way of being Torah observant, than what is our responsibility towards those who want to be part of that world, but struggle to accept or believe some some aspects of our belief system?


In a recent article, Rabbi Francis Nataf wrote about the things that he admires about Open-Orthodoxy. Whatever one thinks of his article, he got me thinking about one particular thing that I admire about the OO world. Many of the detractors of the OO world have suggested, basing themselves on the Rambam and others, that certain theological statements made by OO rabbis are out of the pale. There are, they insist, certain things that Orthodox Jews must believe. While the detractors might be correct, even if we haggle over the particulars, there is one thing that they almost never seem to do; offer meaningful answers to people who are struggling to accept certain Orthodox beliefs. “You are out, while we are in” they say, seeming to not care about (or is it not knowing how to answer?) the questions of those who are struggling.


What do we do with our religious struggles and doubts? What happens when, despite our best efforts to accept established doctrine, we are unable to do so? Can one be a believer while simultaneously accepting some ideas that conflict with traditional theology? These are tough questions to answer, and those of us who have gone through periods of religious struggle, not only search for answers, but also must think about which ideas that might seem true, can also be expressed publicly.

Those within the OO world take those who are struggling with religious doubts, as well as their questions, seriously. They recognize that various aspects of the modern world make it difficult to accept claims that seemed obvious in earlier times. Whatever one thinks of their answers, it’s hard to not admire the sense of עמו אנכי בצרה, I am with you in the pain of your struggles, that comes from the OO rabbis. While I am sure that those who oppose them care about their fellow Jews, their lack of putting forth other answers is, at the very least, curious.


At the same time, I wonder whether attempts to publicly wrestle with these questions can be productive. Almost every time an attempt was made by an Orthodox thinker to spell out some sort of theology or approach that might make more sense to the modern perplexed Jew, the result led to its writer being “expelled” from the orthodox community. Whether it was Louis Jacobs or Tamar Ross and Torah MiSinai, or Eliezer Berkovits, and his approach to halacha, to name just a few examples, their approach to various aspects of Torah were found to be unacceptable by members of the Orthodox world.  Courageous answers which push at the edges of traditional belief, even if ever so slightly, arouse tremendous defensiveness and pushback.


I believe that the Rambam in his introduction to his Moreh Nevuchim warns us about the dangers of espousing beliefs that will be difficult for the community to accept. There he says that his work will contain seeming contradictions, and that he will not help resolve them. He further says that he leaves it to the intelligent reader to figure out what he truly intends. The Rambam seemed to believe that some of his views needed to be kept secret in order to avoid communal reproach.


So where does that leave the Jew is struggling to believe? Perhaps, as I discovered when I myself was struggling, the questioner has to seek out learned and scholarly individuals who are willing to privately suggest that there are more nuanced approaches to Jewish theology than the commonly accepted ones. There are great thinkers, including some from the charedi world, who while outwardly professing to believe that which their community thinks is necessary, privately are much more broad than their congregants, followers, or students might realize. While it might be unfortunate that these discussions can not take place more publicly, those who are questioning should not despair, and realize that they need not go it alone.

"What is Orthodox Judaism? If it is a sociological group, a club of sorts, then we can make any membership rules we...

Posted by Pesach Sommer on Thursday, December 17, 2015

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

The Farber Affair (part II) What would Rambam Do?

This is the second in a series on the “Farber Affair”. To read the first post, including my reasons for writing this series, click here.



When Rambam wrote the Moreh Nevuchim, he knew that he was heading into potentially dangerous waters. In attempting to reconcile the Torah with Aristotelian philosophy, he recognized that his conclusions would not, indeed could not, be understood by everyone, and that some people would see his views as dangerous, or even heresy. Therefore, in his introduction to the Guide, he wrote that there would be seeming contradictions within the text, and that it was up to the reader to resolve them on his own. Notwithstanding the fact that in some segments of the Jewish world, he was vilified, he was successful enough that ultimately, his views remained hidden enough as to make him a virtual Rorschach test for Jewish scholars. From Rav Soloveitchik to Satmar, from Strauss to Rav Schneerson, from Shapiro to Schweid, they are all certain that they know the “real” Rambam.

I do not know Zev Farber personally, so my analysis will focus on his actions and words, and not his motivation. I will refrain from analyzing him, and focus on the article that started it all, and to a lesser degree, to his followup responses.

To begin, I will state clearly that I do not blame Farber for struggling with how to create a balance between the worlds of of Torah, religion and belief on the one hand, and scholarship, intellectual honesty and autonomy on the other. The questions with which he struggled are real questions and can not simply be dismissed. I have great respect for anyone who attempts to deal with these issues in a serious and thoughtful way.

That said, I have several questions:

  1. Why was there a need to publicize the conclusion that he reached? In other words, even when he concluded that the Torah does not contain any objective history, and was somehow revealed in some other way to some other prophet or leader, why share that view publicly? Surely he knew that such a departure from even the most open traditional views would ruffle feathers.
  2. Even if Farber hoped that by sharing his belief, that he might help others who were struggling, why do it in such a public direct manner? There are others who have attempted to deal with the same conflicts who have come up with answers that are seen as controversial. Still, by sharing their views in more scholarly forums, they remain relatively unknown outside of those circles, and have thus, not been the subject of any articles, critiques or attacks in the non-scholarly Jewish world.
  3. Finally, if Farber felt the need to share these views openly and publicly had value-perhaps with the assumption that many needed help reconciling these two worlds- why use a tone that suggests that he is among the few who are brave enough to want the real answer? Even if there was value in sharing his views in a view that it would be readable to the non-scholar, taking such a tone virtually assured that he would ruffle feathers. Even when he subsequently backtracked somewhat, there were still comments he made suggesting that his initial take reflected his real views. Calling one's philosophical opponents “dinosaurs” does nothing to lead to calm and thoughtful discussion. While I can certainly imagine how painful the attacks against him must have felt, to some degree, they were self-inflicted.

I began this post with the Rambam, as I think he suggests a better way. For anyone who attempts to reconcile somewhat conflicting worlds, much foresight is needed. The intended audience, potential reaction (to both the author and his institution), manner of speaking, and chance of being understood and accepted by the intended audience, are among the lessons that such an author would be wise to consider.

Although I strongly disagree with the conclusions that Farber reached, as well as the manner in which he shared his views, I admire his willingness to deal with questions which are troubling to many within the Jewish world. It is my hope that future attempts will learn from Farber's mistakes, as well as from the reaction to him, to emulate the Rambam in proceeding with extreme sensitivity and care.



Wednesday, April 9, 2014

The Farber Affair (part 1)- When Silence is Golden


It has been almost a year since Zev Farber published his online manifesto about Torah MiSinai. The reverberations from that essay continue to be felt and show no sign of quieting down. Although Farber was not the first one to raise questions about the challenges of reconciling TMS and current biblical scholarship, nor was he the first to suggest a less than traditional solution, for various reasons that need not concern us here, his essay was widely disseminated, and thus, read, critiqued and attacked. I have been giving a lot of thought to effect that the essay had, on Farber, Orthodoxy in general, Modern Orthodoxy and Open Orthodoxy specifically, as well as to the other individuals who entered the fray. It is my contention that each player made a mistake in how they dealt with the article, including Farber himself. Over a serious of essays, I will discuss the errors that were made, and make suggestions on how they might have been avoided. To be sure, I do not do so in an attempt to play Monday-morning-quarterback. I do so in the hope that in the future all involved, or those who might become involved, whether in this specific issue or other similar ones, will learn from the mistakes, and learn how to proceed in a more successful manner. 

For no particular reason, I will begin with the oddest player in the controversy that followed the publication of Farber's essay; the American Charedi-lite position (I apologize for the title, but it seems to be the most accurate descriptor). By this phrase, I refer to Avi Shafran, Yaakov Menken and others who either wrote responses or published them on their websites. I say oddest player, as there are many good reasons why those from this world might have avoided entering the fray in the first place. Additionally, in many ways, for those who care to examine this episode carefully, the Charedi-lite world had the most to gain by remaining silent, and their participation harmed their position considerably. Few of their readers were aware of the major issues in modern biblical criticism, or I suspect, biblical criticism in general. By attacking Farber's essay, they brought his questions to their audience.

This might not have been such a bad thing had they had any reasonable responses to his essay. That might have included a way of reconciling the two somewhat contradictory worlds of Torah and biblical scholarship, or even showing why the questions were wrong. Of course they did neither of the two, while leaving the impression that they did so because they were unable to do so. To make matters worse, they gave the impression that questioning and struggling are not really legitimate, and thus, gave fodder to their opponents who suggest that they do not have the intellectual tools to deal with the challenges of modernity. Even worse, those within their ranks who think deeply, were given a reminder that their questions and struggles are illegitimate, something which our great tradition would certainly reject.

On my recent trip to Israel, I had the opportunity to visit various seforim stores, libraries and batei midrash. One of the things I saw astounded me. While the world of Gush Etzion, Bar-Ilan and their ilk are writing and publishing creative works on Tanach and Jewish thought, the charedi world, for the most part remains silent. I got the distinct impression that for those in the former group chiddush and creativity are not only allowed, but even encouraged, whereas for the latter, it is forbidden to say anything that has not been said. This is unfortunate for a number of reasons.

First, and most important, such an attitude is an insult to God and his Torah. If all that can be said has already been said, what does that say to the modern Jew who is seeking to understand what his tradition has to say to him in the 21st Century? If our Torah, is, as we believe, a Toras Chaim, it certainly should continue to speak to us today. Indeed, our chachamim have always been willing to deal creatively with new challeneges, whether from without or from within the Jewish world. Second of all, there are questions that Chazal obviously could not have dealt with, as discoveries in linguistics, archeology and other areas had not yet been discovered in their time. If we follow the charedi approach of only relying on earlier rabbis who were greater than ourselves, than are we not admitting that we have nothing to say on this and other pressing issues? I say this while recognizing the dangers and difficulties involved in plowing ahead without much assistance from those great thinkers who came before us, but in truth, what other choice do we have? Furthermore, although those like Rav Saadyah Gaon and Rambam did not, indeed could not, have answered our current questions, they did suggest the methodology which might be used. The fact that the charedi-lite world did not do so leads one to wonder whether this was due to a lack of knowledge or the fear to engage in this challenging endeavor.

All of this suggests that the best course for those from the charedi-lite world, silence would have been the preferred approach. That they did not do so, leaves me wondering what their real goal really is.