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

Thursday, May 21, 2015

Highs and Lows- A message to a bar mitzvah boy and all of us


Dear Caleb,

Although I don’t know you, I know your dad and rather than give a plain-old Mazal Tov, I want to share some thoughts with you as you approach your big day.

It seems so appropriate that you are celebrating your Bar Mitzvah in Israel, right by Shavuos, and as we begin Sefer Bamidbar. I’d like to suggest a connection between the three.

Perhaps the most famous words from Mattan Torah are the words Na’aseh V’Nishmah. There are many questions that can be asked on these words, but I will just ask one. Why do we need two words to say we accept the Torah and mitzvot? I’d like to share a beautiful idea I saw in the Nesivos Shalom. He points out that for everyone, not just the regular people, but the greatest tzaddikim as well, there are times we feel close to HaShem and times we feel distant. During the times of closeness, it is easy to attach to HaShem. When everything feels great, it’s easy to daven. When tefillin are new, it’s easy to be excited to put them on. Those moments are the “Nishmah” part of life. The part of life when we get it. There are also “Naaseh” moments. Moments of sadness and difficulty when we feel distant from HaShem. There too, we commit to attach to HaShem, even though it’s hard. The Slonimer Rebbe is sharing something important. The high moments are great, but for all of us, they are followed by lows. We can attach to HaShem during both.

This very much connects to Megillas Rus. A student at my shiur last night, pointed out that the term Davak, to attach, is used multiple times in Rus, highlighting this point of attaching to God during the good and bad times. Perhaps that is why we read this megillah on Shavuos.

We also see this in Sefer Bamidbar. The first half of the Sefer reads like a plan. Here’s how we get to Israel. All details. No worries about what might go wrong. Then real life happens and... kablooey!!! Everything falls apart, and all of a sudden there is a 40 year detour. Again, it’s easy to feel close to God when everything goes as planned. Bnei Yisrael had to stay in the Midbar to learn to trust and stay close to HaShem, even when things are dark.

Which brings us to Israel. There are so many wonderful things going on there. I told your father how jealous I am of you for having your bar mitzvah there. So much better than any party you could have in the US. Israel however has lots of challenges too. Even in the holiest place in the world, the good and the bad, the easy and the hard, the light and the dark mix. There, we have the greatest opportunity to stay close to HaShem through it all.

As I said, I don’t know you, but I know your dad. I know that I am not the only one inspired by his passion for Torah, and the efforts he makes to stay close to God through all of life’s challenges. You couldn’t ask for a better role model.

Mazal tov and enjoy!

Pesach Sommer

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Refusing to Join the Exodus- Why parents and schools should stay away


There are, according to the gemara, certain mistakes that are so serious, that one who makes them, can be fired without warning. One of those on the list is a teacher of Torah, who teaches something incorrectly. In explaining the rationale, Rashi says that once a mistake enters the students mind, it can not be removed. I would like to apply this idea to movies which purport to tell over biblical stories, such as Exodus: Gods and Kings, which recently started showing in theaters.

Exodus tells the story of the Jews slavery in, and subsequent exodus from Egypt. Although it is loosely based on the biblical text, many liberties are taken in order to turn it into a box-office success. While the lack of authenticity in telling over the story is problematic, I would suggest that even a movie where the director would attempt to follow the text is problematic.

I remember when the animated movie The Prince of Egypt was released in theaters. There was a good deal of excitement in the Jewish community as the movie had been made in consultation with rabbis. There was even a haggadah that was to be made connected to the film, in conjunction with a major orthodox Jewish organization. The principal of the elementary school where I was teaching at the time took the entire school to see the movie. While there were certain parts of the movie that were thought provoking, I was troubled by the lack of accuracy. In particular, I remember how Aharon was portrayed as a goofy and immature big brother. That was far from the only problem I had with the film.

When we study Torah with children, we are sharing ideas which will stay with them forever. One of the great things about studying from a text is that we allow the student to conceptualize things in their minds. In this particular case, a picture is not worth a thousand words. Even if we make clear to young viewers that there are differences between the text and the movie, the images that they see and the ideas that they hear are not forgotten. While it is reasonable to teach children that biblical personalities were human, and thus, imperfect, allowing them to view a Hollywood rendition of Torah stories, can lead to children seeing these righteous individuals as petty, cruel and backwards.

I have no doubt that Exodus will be a box-office hit. A lot of money has been put into it, and the controversy it has generated will not hurt and might just help. I would humbly suggest that we stay away. There are some mistakes which can not be corrected.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Parshat Toledot- The Mysterious Cloak- From Adam to Eisav


Parshat Toledot- What was the mysterious cloak that God gave to Adam HaRishon and how did it end up in Eisav’s hands?


We examine a series of fascinating midrashim which talk of the Ketonet Ohr that God gave to Adam. Ultimately it ends up in the hands of Eisav, until Yaakov buries it in the ground. While recognizing that this midrash is not meant literally, we carefully examine the various pesukim which led to the formation of the midrash, as well as examining its meaning.


Click here to access the link. If that does not work use this link to listen to the shiur, or try listening on YouTube.

Running time 1:08

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Words of Wisdom- Educating our children to the beauty of Torah



As a teacher and student, I’ve walked down more than my fair share of school hallways. I’ve seen hallways with pictures of great rabbis, educational posters, and photographs of beautiful scenes from nature. Last night, at a wedding, which took place at a yeshiva in Lakewood, I saw something in a school hallway that I’ve never seen before. On one side of a long hallway, opposite pictures of gedolim, there were framed facsimiles of old pashkvilim from Israel.


Anyone who has spent time in Israel has seen posters known as pashkvilim hanging in charedi neighborhoods. Pashkvilim are posters of a religious nature which generally are used to try and enforce appropriate religious behavior. They might discuss proper religious attire for the neighborhood, or mark certain activities or locations as off-limits.


As I looked over the various posters, I wondered who had decided that this was something to use to decorate a yeshiva. Sure, they were historically interesting, but what educational message was given when hanging posters that either banned so many activities, or forbade entry to so many places? Is the idea that Judaism is about assering things an educational message that our children need to hear?


There was one poster that caught my eye. It set a minimal price limit for eggs (six for a grush). An explanation was given that this limit was there to protect the poor people of Yerushalayim. Now this was a poster that had educational value. Imagine if the hallway showed in various ways, the message of deracheha darchei noam. Along with a poster like this showing gedolim using their power to help the poor, there could be other pictures and posters emphasizing the idea that Torah can and should be a driving force for kindness and goodness.

I didn’t recognize all of the gedolim whose pictures lined the other walls, but among those who I did know, were Rav Moshe, Rav Yaakov and Rav Shlomo Zalman, who were pictured with their characteristic smiles. If one indeed wants to hang posters with the words of chachamim in the yeshiva (leaving aside the educational question of whether this is a good idea), wouldn’t it be better to hang posters with the words of these and other chachamim that show the boys of the yeshiva the teshuvos and divrei Torah of Toras Chessed koach d’heteira adif  that these great men produced and represented? This is not to deny the fact that there are prohibitions in the Torah, and  some things that are off-limits. Still at a time when so much is banned and forbidden, it behooves us to show our children (and selves)  the beauty that Torah represents.

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Torah Tziva LANU Moshe- Torah as the means to bring the Jewish people together


Although Racheli Fraenkel’s new Rosh Hashana video and the Scottish election for independence, which is taking place today, seemingly have no connection, they have me thinking about peoplehood. Are we still one people? If so, based on what, and will that continue to be enough in the future?

In the video, Fraenkel speaks of the tremendous outpouring of unity and love that occurred after her son and two other yeshiva boys (ZTVKL) were kidnapped and murdered. She implores us to hold onto that feeling. Can we? Are we capable of showing unity without tragedy to connect us? While sorrow and pain can unite us, national mourning is, thankfully, too rare to serve as the glue to hold us together. Still, she is correct in asking us to remember the connection and to search for a way to keep it moving forward.

The Scottish independence movement also gives us a chance to think about what peoplehood means. The fact that a people might trade greater wealth and prosperity for full self-determination, reminds us that there are things more basic to our existence and happiness than money. Our Chachamim note this when they said that a person prefers a kav (measure of grain) that is his, more than 9 kabim given to him by (controlled by?) others. While, in some circles, nationalism has become a dirty word, in a world where individuality is forever being stressed, there is a strong desire to unite and connect with those around us, and discover what we share with others.

So where does that leave us? It has been said that we are a nation by virtue of the Torah. While there might be some truth in that, the pre-exilic books of Tanach seem to suggest that, even when the people are divorced from Torah, that a degree of national unity can exist. Additionally, in our day and many times in the past, Torah, what it means, and how it should be applied, has served to divide us. Even within religious communities, religious and theological terms, even when commonly used, seem to have very different meanings, meanings which often seem to divide and emphasize our differences, reinforcing a sense of loneliness. Israel and the communities outside of Israel seem in many ways to be moving in different directions, and friction between and within denominations show no signs of weakening. If Torah is to unite us, a different focus needs to be found.

I believe that the answer can be found within a phenomena that already exists, and is slowly gaining strength. The Torah can serve to unite us, if we stop insisting on our particular understanding of Torah to serve as the meeting point. The text of Torah, and not its particular application can be that which unites us if we will only allow it. Programs like Limmud outside of Israel, and secular and non-denominational batei midrash in Israel show that a new model of studying Torah is a real possibility. As leaders like MK Ruth Calderon continue to teach Torah in new and creative ways, and people like Rav Shmuel Pappenheim show that open dialogue, where we learn from each other with no strings attached, can take place, we are reminded of what can be.  

As we approach the Yamim Noraim, the high holidays of Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, holidays that are among the most observed in one form or another by the Jewish people, let us return to the Torah which was given on Yom Kippur, so that we might merit a good judgement, and unity based on celebration rather than tragedy.

Friday, September 12, 2014

A Tree Grows in...- Generosity and kindness win the day


וַיָּבֹאוּ כָּל־הַחֲכָמִים הָעֹשִׂים אֵת כָּל־מְלֶאכֶת הַקֹּדֶשׁ אִישׁ אִישׁ מִמְּלַאכְתּוֹ אֲשֶׁר־הֵמָּה עֹשִׂים:  וַיֹּאמְרוּ אֶל־מֹשֶׁה לֵּאמֹר מַרְבִּים הָעָם לְהָבִיא מִדֵּי הָעֲבֹדָה לַמְּלָאכָה אֲשֶׁר־צִוָּה יְהוָֹה לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָהּ: ו וַיְצַו מֹשֶׁה וַיַּעֲבִירוּ קוֹל בַּמַּחֲנֶה לֵאמֹר אִישׁ וְאִשָּׁה אַל־יַעֲשׂוּ־עוֹד מְלָאכָה לִתְרוּמַת הַקֹּדֶשׁ וַיִּכָּלֵא הָעָם מֵהָבִיא:   וְהַמְּלָאכָה הָיְתָה דַיָּם לְכָל־הַמְּלָאכָה לַעֲשׂוֹת אֹתָהּ וְהוֹתֵר


With some trepidation, I posted yesterday about a “friends” dilemma. Over the past few summers, I have given shiurim on various topics, to a group of former (as if that ever exists) talmidim. Although it was on an inconsistent basis, it was serious and enjoyable learning. I never asked for, or would have taken payment for it. It was something they wanted, and something I wanted at least as much. A true labor of love.


Recently, I was contacted by one of the boys (one of the nicest kids I’ve ever met) about giving a weekly shiur. I was, of course, very excited. The only issue was travel costs. HaShem has given me so much, but sufficient parnassa is not one of those things. Simply put, the weekly commute is more than I can currently afford. I was not willing to ask the boys to pay. I had no desire to scare anyone off. While some suggested that I ask them to pay, or at least give them an opportunity to do so, I was unwilling to consider that. I was hoping for some sort of creative solution.


What happened instead was better than miraculous. It was chessedulous,  heartwarmingulous, and fantabulous. A number of people offered to sponsor the commute and shiur. Three of them were generous friends, okay, maybe four, unless of course Tzedaka Smith is a real person. Another was a former student, and current friend, of my wife. One was a wonderful young man (geez, did I just say that?) who I met under truly unique circumstances and kept up with all these years. A kind young man with whom I worked in one school said he would send over a check. Yet another two donations came from Facebook friends whom I have never met. Within a few hours, the shiur was sponsored for the year.

I would say I’m speechless, but I’m never speechless. I am incredibly moved, touched and appreciative. God willing, starting next Tuesday, I will have another opportunity to do one of my favorite things, teaching Torah. Thank you to all who helped make this possible.

Monday, September 8, 2014

A Better Paradigm for the Orthodox Community- A response to Eliyahu Fink



Before we can explain why people leave Orthodoxy, as Eliyahu Fink has attempted to do on his blog, I think we need to start off with a different series of questions.


  • Why should we care if people leave Orthodoxy?
  • What is the goal of Orthodoxy?


Although logic might dictate that the two questions be dealt with in the opposite order, due to Eliyahu’s post, I will go in the opposite order.


If Orthodoxy is merely a club or social group of some kind, those of us who are members will want people to stay for a number of possible reasons. Defections will make our social pool smaller, and possibly cause some dissonance as we wonder why people are abandoning what we find enjoyable and meaningful. If that is the main reason for concern, I am not sure why a rational person would care if people left Orthodoxy. Although we might have an emotional preference for people to like what we like and do what we do, most of us recognize that personal taste is subjective. I have yet to see a campaign to get people to like the same sports team or flavor of ice cream.


If we examine what the goal of Orthodoxy is, the first question can be answered differently. While Eliyahu comes to these questions from the world of kiruv professional (formerly) and the rabbinate, I will answer these questions as a Jewish educator.


Ultimately, Orthodoxy is about a connection with God, holiness, truth and meaning. Although different subsections of our community will approach this goal differently, the overall goal is fairly clear. If we are convinced that God speaks to us through Torah and that we are commanded to do certain things, our concern becomes religious, rather than social. Thus, while we will acknowledge that people might come to observe for all sorts of non-religious or theological reasons, the goal is ultimately theological and not social. As such, I would suggest that the kiruv/advertising approach, where everyone is beautiful, wealthy and young, is the wrong approach. Instead, we should take an educational approach. Will this lead to fewer people becoming observant? Quite possibly, but that’s not a bad thing. In sales, one can take the approach of caveat emptor, but I would hope that we are not trying to make a sale. If our goal is to get people to honestly connect with God, we need to stop doing kiruv and start educating.


Education, as opposed to kiruv, seeks to provide knowledge and understanding. There are no hooks, no promises, and thus, fewer defections. When defections occur, it is not because we have not made religion fun enough, but rather because a different belief system has won out.


There has been a recent fascinating phenomena in the charedi community. Many, have chosen , on a social and communal level, to stay within the community, despite mentally having checked out. In some extreme cases, the disconnect between the social appearance and private behavior is quitejarring. If the goal of the community is to be able to continue to have a large team, this phenomena need not concern us. If the goal of the community is to connect to God through Torah and the mitzvos, this phenomena is quite disconcerting.

It is time for the Orthodox community to focus more on the second of my two questions. To the degree that we do so, we will recognize that the goal is not to keep people living a certain lifestyle, but to instead truthfully engage with God through his Torah. We should, of course, put our best foot forward, but never lose sight of the true goal.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Darchei Noam- Making the use of halachic pre-nups commonplace


I left Alon Shvut on a high. The Yom Iyun in Tanach had been everything I had hoped for. I had heard shiurim from, and met, some of the best teachers of Tanach in the world. I was sorry to be leaving, but the second part of my day was about to begin. I was heading for Bet Shemesh for a program about halachic pre-nuptial agreements sponsored by Beit Hillel. Among the speakers were Gush Rosh Yeshiva Rav Baruch Gigi, and Rav Meir Lichtenstein. The program promised to be thought-provoking and informative.

Soon, my mood dropped. The shiurim at Gush had been uplifting and powerful, but despite the high level of the speakers at the halachic pre-nup program, the topic started to get me down. Hearing stories of agunot and marriages that had broken up, was a real emotional letdown, particularly after the yom iyun. I began to wonder whether it had been a mistake to attend this program, and add additional time and travel onto an already exhausting day. I was tired and hungry and eating way too many mint brownies. Then I started thinking a bit, and everything changed.

The shiurim at Gush had been incredible, but they were entirely theoretical. On a theoretical level, it is easy for Torah to be uplifting and powerful. The words of the prophets can easily inspire, when they address people who lived over 2,000 years ago, but do they push us to address the major problems of our generation? What might the neviim have said had they witnessed the massive chilulei HaShem which take place every time a get is used to oppress?

I’m not a posek and I don’t want to get into the halachic particulars. I do want to share one idea that was the biggest takeaway for me from the program. The halachic details need to be properly addressed, and halachic pre-nups have to be done in a way that will be fair for both spouses, but at the end of the day, they will only work if signing them becomes common. Although rabbis can help by discussing pre-nups in shul, and urging couples for whom they are messadrei kiddushin to sign, that is not enough. Parents and educators need to teach about it and discuss it to the point that it becomes so normal as to not seem un-romantic or strange. I would draw a parallel to seat-belt use. When I was a kid, it was still common for people, including young children to sit without a seat-belt. Through education and discussion it has reached the point where buckling up is the norm. The same thing must happen with halachic pre-nups.

It is not enough for Torah to be inspiring and uplifting. It must leave an imprint on our everyday messy and imperfect lives. When halacha is used in an immoral way, we must step up to make it, once again a Torah whose ways are ways of pleasantness and all its paths are peace.

Thursday, June 19, 2014

Give or Take?- Using the Torah to Choose the Right Kind of Leaders



We live in a time when, sadly, we are no longer surprised to see those who lead religious institutions, yeshivahs and communities in the news for unethical behavior. While actions done to raise money to help others can at least be somewhat explained away, misusing positions of leadership for personal gain can not. In 2008, Chaim Saiman, a law professor at Villanova, wrote an article for the Forward about the Madoff scandal and its religious implications for Yeshiva University. Taking that a step further, I'd like to look at the Torah's expectations for leaders, by dealing with a number of questions on this weeks parsha.

Parshas Korach tells the story of how a large group of men, theoretically led by Korach, attempted to gain positions of leadership and influence within Bnei Yisrael. It begins with the passuk

וַיִּקַּח קֹרַח בֶּן־יִצְהָר בֶּן־קְהָת בֶּן־לֵוִי וְדָתָן וַאֲבִירָם בְּנֵי אֱלִיאָב וְאוֹן בֶּן־פֶּלֶת בְּנֵי רְאוּבֵן

All commentators ask the same question. The pasuk begins with the word וַיִּקַּח, which means "And he took", without saying what exactly was taken. Furthermore, it is written in the singular despite ostensibly talking about more than 200 men.

Furthermore, in pasuk טו when Moshe pleads with God not to accept Korach's offering he says
 וַיִּחַר לְמֹשֶׁה מְאֹד וַיֹּאמֶר אֶל־יְהֹוָה אַל־תֵּפֶן אֶל־מִנְחָתָם לֹא חֲמוֹר אֶחָד מֵהֶם נָשָׂאתִי וְלֹא הֲרֵעֹתִי אֶת־אַחַד מֵהֶם

"I have not taken a single donkey from any of them and not done badly to them". Why does Moshe feel the need to justify himself? Even stranger is the fact that this statement seems to be the basis for the choice of the haftarah of the parsha.

As Shmuel HaNavi, who has been the leader of Bnei Yisrael, is coming to the end of his life, he is asked by the people to appoint a king to rule over them. As he goes to annoint Shaul, Shmuel gives a valedictory address. At the beginning he says:

הִנְנִי עֲנוּ בִי נֶגֶד ה' וְנֶגֶד מְשִׁיחוֹ אֶת ־שׁוֹר ׀ מִי לָקַחְתִּי וַחֲמוֹר מִי לָקַחְתִּי וְאֶת־מִי עָשַׁקְתִּי אֶת ־מִי רַצּוֹתִי וּמִיַּד־ מִי לָקַחְתִּי כֹפֶר וְאַעְלִים עֵינַי בּוֹ וְאָשִׁיב לָכֶם

Echoing Moshe's words, Shmuel asks the people to confirm that he has taken nothing from them. What are Chazal trying to emphasize?

Finally, at the end of the parsha, the Matnos Kehuna V' Leviyah, the gifts that the Kohanim and Leviyim receive from Bnei Yisrael, are listed. Going on the assumption that halachos that are introduced after a narrative episode have a thematic connection, what do these gifts have to do with the story of Korach and his co-conspirators?

Korach saw leadership as a way of getting things. He assumed that a leader would be in position to accrue wealth, comfort and luxury for himself. He wanted to have such a position for himself. He, along with his group wanted to rule in order to be able to take for themselves וַיִּקַּח קֹרַח. Even as they came together to complain, each one wanted power for his own benefit and thus וַיִּקַּח is written in the singular.

Moshe and Shmuel, in contradistinction to Korach and his men, recognized that to be a true leader was to be a selfless giver, with the goal of helping the flock rather than themselves. They sacrificed comfort, family and more all for Bnei Yisrael. In return, they took nothing, not even a donkey.

At the end of the parsha, in discussing the various gifts, the Kohanim and Leviyim are given the task of guarding the mishkan to keep Bnei Yisrael safe. In return, they are given certain gifts. At first, this seems to suggest that serving God leads to personal gain. HaShem stresses

וַיֹּאמֶר ה' אֶל־אַהֲרֹן בְּאַרְצָם לֹא תִנְחָל וְחֵלֶק לֹא־יִהְיֶה לְךָ בְּתוֹכָם אֲנִי חֶלְקְךָ וְנַחֲלָתְךָ בְּתוֹךְ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל

"You will not receive a portion of land in Israel. I, Hashem, am your portion". Land was the primary way of accruing wealth in an agrarian society. The gifts are given to the Kohanim and Leviyim for sustenance. Their job is to serve, not to accrue gain for themselves. HaShem, who is the ultimate giver, the נתן התורה is their inheritance, and thus, their role model.

A leader's goal must be to help those who leads, not himself. To give to others, and not to take for himself. Perhaps it is time to reasess our goals in choosing leaders in our community.


Tuesday, June 10, 2014

A Night to Remember- Learning, Teaching and Sharing Torah in a Reform Temple



It is somewhat frustrating that I feel the need to explain the purpose of an event I took part in last night, and what it was and wasn't about. Still, I am not going to pretend that for some, my involvement at a program in a Reform temple, talking respectfully with a Reform rabbi, requires justification.

Let me start by saying what the event was not. It was not a way to surreptitiously do kiruv, where I pretend I am interested in a dialogue only so that I can bring an audience to realize that I have the truth. I was not trying to “make” anyone frum. What I was trying to do was have an honest an open dialogue with my friend Rabbi Ben David, and his congregants. I was interested in sharing Torah. I was interested in learning from others and being challenged, and seeing if I could break some stereotypes without pandering to the audience or pretending that there are not real differences between us.

I had never met Ben in person. Years ago, we connected through running after I read an article in Runner's World about the “Running Rabbis”. Being a running rabbi myself, and one who liked to use running to help raise money for worthy causes as well, I reached out to Ben. For the past five years or so, we have been virtual friends with shared interests in Judaism, Daf Yomi, and running, among other things. We talked from time to time about getting together, and going for a run. While the run will have to wait a bit longer, last night's program, suggested by Rabbi David, was the get together.

On the way down, I davened mincha with a lot more kavvanah than I had mustered in a while. I davened that I should choose my words wisely, speak with honesty and nuance, and that I should not cause anyone pain with my words. Ben and I met for a few minutes to discuss the “ground rules”. We agreed that no question was off limits and that we would focus on areas where we agreed and disagreed. Rabbi David began with a devar Torah, where he quoted the Baal Shem Tov, and we were off.

I'm not going to offer a word for word description of what happened, but just some general thoughts. There were more than 100 people who showed up. Just that fact alone says something. Rabbi David asked me what the perception of Reform Judaism was in my community and I said that many if not most Orthodox Jews see Reform Jews as being apathetic. This crowd, showed that, as with most generalizations, that perception is wrong. Every man, woman and child who attended was there to learn, listen and talk.

Of course, I was asked about patrilineal descent. I honestly explained what I understand the Orthodox position to be, trying to be both delicate and truthful. From the responses, I think I was successful.

I quoted the Kuzari, Kant and Kierkegaard. I shared a few borscht belt jokes and my favorite joke about religion. I shared my own struggles and questions. Rabbi David asked great questions and we talked about our mutual love for Torah, even as we understand it quite differently.

Perhaps the saddest moment was when I was asked if the next step could be a meeting like this in my community. I didn't sugarcoat it. I honestly stated that there was not an Orthodox shul in my community that would host such an event. My answered saddened me, because it is time to learn Torah with other Jews on terms that show mutual respect, even while disagreeing. I am troubled by the fact that we fight the battles of at least 50 years ago, instead of dealing with a very changed reality. It is time for rabbis much bigger and wiser than me to share their Torah, and meet Jews who are passionate, articulate and curious, which brings me to my final point.


I did not and can not speak for Orthodox Judaism. It goes without saying that I spoke for no one but myself. I shared my vision of Modern Orthodoxy, one which is open to being challenged while standing proudly for Torah observance and learning, as a way of engaging the Metzaveh and Nosein HaTorah. I don't know how successful I was in my goal, but I am happy and proud to have tried. It is my hope that, for myself and others, last night was just a beginning.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

One Heart- Unity through Torah


So much has been written about Jewish unity. How do we get there? Perhaps if we examine a midrash more deeply, we might gain a few insights.

Thanks, in part, to Rashi, it is one of the most well known midrashim. As Bnei Yisrael get to Har Sinai, the pasuk says וַיִּסְע֣וּ מֵֽרְפִידִ֗ים וַיָּבֹ֨אוּ֙ מִדְבַּ֣ר סִינַ֔י וַֽיַּֽחֲנ֖וּ בַּמִּדְבָּ֑ר וַיִּֽחַן־ שָׁ֥ם יִשְׂרָאֵ֖ל נֶ֥גֶד הָהָֽר – "And they travelled from Rephidim and they came to the Sinai Desert, and they camped in the desert, and they camped there, facing the mountain". Commenting on the fact that the second time it mentions Bnei Yisrael camping, it uses the term וַיִּֽחַן, which is singular, the midrash explains that this refers to their level of unity, כּאיש אחד בּלב אחד "Like one man, with one heart". Why does the midrash have to say the words "with one heart"? If they were like "one man", is it not obvious that it was like they had "one heart"?

Actually, it is not. In a mishna in Berachos the words בּכל לבבך are understood to mean that you should love God with both of your hearts, the yetzer hatov and the yetzer hara. We have competing drives. We sometimes behave with duplicity. We are pulled in two very different directions. Ordinarily, the best we can hope for is to channel it all into the service of God. Somehow, by Har Sinai, our two hearts became one. How did that happen?

In Jewish thought, God is described as a יושב, one who stays put, and does not change (as an extension, only a king from the house of David may sit in the Beis HaMikdash). Angels are called עומדים, creatures who stand, who have only one leg (we imitate this each time we say the amidah). They do not change, but are, of course, less permanent than God. Man is a הולך one who moves. While we sometimes move in the right direction, often we do not. We are constantly moving, striving, changing. While this movement is necessary, it comes with a cost. We can be at odds with ourselves. Certainly, one who has an internal civil war, can not easily love another person. We often work against each other, seeing success as a zero sum game, where another's success comes at a cost to me. It is during the six days of the week during which we strive, that we often strive against one another. Shabbos gives us a chance to rest, to be at peace. When Bnei Yisrael camped at Har Sinai, they too came to rest. They were no longer going somewhere. They had arrived. They could camp and rest.

By camping around Har Sinai, they had a common focal point (Rav Tzadok explains the idea of tzaddikim in olam haba encircling the shecina as suggesting equal value before God). God and His Torah became the unifying factor for all of them. While each person had all sorts of physical, emotional and personal differences, before God, they were equal. While there were 12 shevatim, composed of millions of people, they became more than one nation. They became one person, with one common heart.


As we again receive the Torah, may we be mekabel it with love, and again join together with one heart. Chag Sameach.

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Moreshet Yaakov- Ensuring That Every Jew has Their Portion in Torah




What is the goal of Torah study? Who should teach it? To whom should should it be be taught? How should Torah be taught? These are some of the questions which I have been thinking about. I suppose it began with MK Ruth Calderon's historic speech after she joined the Knesset. I was already fascinated by her back-story, as a founder of a secular beit midrash. I began to reconsider what Torah learning meant and how to approach it. For a long time, I had thought of it as an endeavor of those who are already observant or looking to be, or have academic interest in it. Suddenly there was another possibility; learning Torah to learn Torah. An article this week by Rabbi Nathan Lopes Cardozo “God is Relocating: A Critique on Contemporary Orthodoxy”, which is quite long but tremendously thought provoking, as well as an article by Beth Kisselef “Where Denominations Lose Their Meaning”, about various venues where Torah is explored together by Jews of various stripes, brought this issue back in focus. What follows is not meant to be a halachic analysis, or even my permanent conclusion. I write this as a way of sharing and helping shape my thoughts, and, of course, to get feedback.

In Eichah Rabbah the rabbis imagine God as saying “Would that they (Bnei Yisrael) abandon me and guard (keep?) my Torah”. On the surface, this seems to suggest that by observing God's Torah, we would return back to him. There is an obvious difficulty here. Part of observing God's Torah involves not abandoning God. Therefore, I believe the midrash is saying that by learning Torah, we are led back to God. I would agree that, at the very least, one who attempts to learn Torah with a goal of reaching God will be led back to Him. What of someone who learns without that goal? Assuming that they are not doing so for negative reasons (as per Tosafos), will it lead back to God? Sometimes.

What I do know is that, to echo Kierkegaard, our objectivity is inherently subjective, and thus, I have no desire to do kiruv, in the sense of trying to convince someone that I have the truth. What I do want to do is teach and learn Torah with my fellow Jews. Not as a hidden way of doing kiruv, but simply as a way of learning Torah. What about learning Torah from my fellow Jews? Am I really prepared to hear Torah from someone who does not believe in God, or believes differently? Absolutely. As much as for some of my fellow Orthodox jews, this might be shocking or forbidden, I wonder whether they have ever thought about what message is given when we are only willing to teach them, but not learn from them. To be clear, I am not talking about polemics, where they or I would be trying to push a belief system. The goal would be to learn the texts of Torah together, trying to understand the text. Is there a danger in this approach? I don't think so. I am not afraid to hear ideas which might be different than my own. None other than the Rambam advised us to consider the message and not the messenger when looking for truth. I do however think that learning in this manner might not be ideal for younger students.

Of course, I am not saying this is the only way that learning should take place but I do think there is great value in this approach. If we truly believe that Torah is the inheritance of every Jew, than seeing to it that as many Jews as possible learn it has to be the goal. To those who insist that it will be on Orthodox terms, by us, in our institutions, I would say that you are automatically limiting the amount of Jews who will learn Torah. Many Jews do not feel comfortable in our institutions, something which we ought to think about on many levels. If we will only teach Torah on our terms, that is another way of saying we are okay with many Jews never learning Torah. I, for one, am not


Finally, what's the end game? What's my agenda? Very simply, my goal is that as many Jews as possible should learn Torah, wrestle with Torah and think about what it means to them. I want the head of Jewish Federation to know how to learn gemara. I want a Hillel director to wrestle with the sugya of Tanur Shel Achnai. I want it to reach a point where a secular MK sharing Torah in the Knesset is as common as arguments in the Knesset. Finally, I want Orthodox Jews to be part of God's directive to ensure that His Torah is shared. V'sein Chelkeinu B'Torasecha.

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Possession is 10/10 of the Lords- A Torah perspective on ownership and control

This devar Torah is in memory of Herb Smilowitz z'l, who recently passed away. He was a humble and kind man, and a ba'al tzedaka and ba'al chessed of the highest order. Among other causes, Mr. Smilowitz was a big supporter of RIETS and Yeshivat Har Etzion (Gush). Although I did not know Mr. Smilowitz well, through his children, I met him a number of times. I was zocheh to hear some meaningful and powerful stories from his family, during the time I was menachem avel. Mr. Smilowitz had money, it did not have him. In a quiet and humble way, he used his wealth in the most Godly manner possible. Yehi Zichro Baruch.

Herb Smilowitz z'l surrounded by Rabbi Zevulun Charlap and Rabbi Mark Smilowitz
This might be the only time in history when a man had to be "tricked" into being honored.


It's one of the best known Rashis in the Torah

מה ענין שמיטה אצל הר סיני

What does Shemita have to do with Har Sinai?

This question is asked by Rashi on the first passuk in Parshas Behar

וַיְדַבֵּר יְהוָֹה אֶל־ מֹשֶׁה בְּהַר סִינַי לֵאמֹר

Unlike almost every time that HaShem speaks to Moshe, here, in introduction to the laws of Shemitah and Yovel, the Torah notes that it happened on Har Sinai. Why single out these mitzvos? Were all mitzvos not given at Har Sinai? To answer the question Rashi explains that just as Shemitah and all of its details were taught at Har Sinai, this also applies to all of the other mitzvos in the Torah.

What Rashi does not explain is why this mitzvah is singled out to teach this lesson. What is unique about Shemitah that it is chosen as an example?

Additionally, we see elsewhere that Shemitah is serious enough to lead to exile and other serious consequences when it is not followed. Why is this mitzvah singled out for such severe consequences?

By way of introduction, I will start with the second question first. The Ramban suggests that shemitah teaches us about the messianic era, which is represented by resting during the 7th year. The Kli Yakkar suggests that Shemitah and Yovel are a re-creation of Har Sinai. To prove his point, he points to several allusions including the number 50 and the use of a shofar, which is referred to in both contexts as a "yovel". As we will see later on, there is no reason to suggest that these explanations are mutually exclusive.

To answer the first question, we need to look at some of the mitzvos that are mentioned in this parsha:

  • Shemitah
  • Yovel
  • Freeing of an Eved Ivri by Yovel at the latest
  • Ona'as mamon (limits on profits) as well as Ona'as Devarim (hurtful words)
  • Prohibition to permanently sell a field or most homes in Israel
  • Returning of field to their original owner by Yovel
  • Prohibition on charging interest
  • Prohibitions against mistreating an Eved Ivri
  • Requirement to redeem a Jewish slave from a non-Jewish owner

If we look at the common denominator between these mitzvohs, we see that the Torah is focusing on ownership and property in parshas Behar. Despite the claims by different proponents of modern economic theory, the Torah's approach to property and ownership is neither capitalist or socialist. It is a unique system.

Bnei Yisrael have left Egypt. They were there long enough to become virtually identical to the Egyptians, both culturally and socially. Just as somewhat paradoxically an abused child runs the risk of becoming an abusive parent, and a captive runs the risk of experiencing Stockholm Syndrome, there was a very real risk that, with the gaining of independence and power, Bnei Yisrael would take an Egyptian view of possesions, particularly to ownership of slaves. It is not surprising that the Torah here uses the word פרך the very same word used to described how BY were enslaved, in discussing the prohibitions of mistreating an Eved Ivri. The Torah also talks of treating him as a תושב, another allusion to the slavery which took place in Egypt. Most telling are the words of HaShem כִּי־עֲבָדַי הֵם אֲשֶׁר־הוֹצֵאתִי אֹתָם מֵאֶרֶץ מִצְרָיִם. Do not think of your slaves as your own. All of you belong to me.

The other mitzvos listed above, also place strong limitations on ownership, from limiting profit, to prohibiting permanent sale of land and property, to prohibiting the charging of interest. What, in the name of Adam Smith is going on here?

After creating man, HaShem blesses them saying


וַיְבָרֶךְ אֹתָם אֱלֹהִים וַיֹּאמֶר לָהֶם אֱלֹהִים פְּרוּ וּרְבוּ וּמִלְאוּ אֶת־ הָאָרֶץ וְכִבְשֻׁהָ וּרְדוּ בִּדְגַת הַיָּם וּבְעוֹף הַשָּׁמַיִם וּבְכָל ־חַיָּה הָרֹמֶשֶׂת עַל־ הָאָרֶץ

Be fruitful, fill the land and be koveish it. What is the meaning of that word? Ordinarily, we translate it as conquer, but I think it could also mean something else here. Chazal speak of being koveish one's Yetzer HaRa. In that context, I would suggest it means more of channeling one's physicality, rather than conquering it. Here God is dealing with something inherent in man, and, I believe, particularly inherent in men. Man can be a conqueror. One who aims to control everything and everyone. A person who views the world in a binary way, saying "What's mine is mine and what's yours is yours" and "kochi v'otzem yadi". God is blessing us to view things differently. In the next passuk he says


וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים הִנֵּה נָתַתִּי לָכֶם אֶת ־כָּל ־עֵשֶׂב ׀ זֹרֵעַ זֶרַע אֲשֶׁר עַל־פְּנֵי כָל ־הָאָרֶץ וְאֶת ־כָּל־ הָעֵץ אֲשֶׁר ־בּוֹ פְרִי־עֵץ זֹרֵעַ זָרַע לָכֶם יִהְיֶה לְאָכְלָה

Remember, says HaShem, I am the source of everything you have. Use it, but use it for a Divine purpose.

Now we can return to our original question, Why are these mitzvos specifically mentioned as coming from Har Sinai? If we think of what we know of Har Sinai, we begin to see an answer. Chazal say that by the giving of the Torah, Bnei Yisrael reached the level of Adam HaRishon before the sin. The goal of the Torah is for us to perfect ourselves and through our actions, the world. Although that level was inherently unsustainable at the time of Matan Torah, the Kli Yakar suggests that we receive a reminder of that goal through Shemitah, Yovel, and, I would add, the other mitzvos of this parsha. Moving over to the Ramban, these mitzvos are a reminder of the messianic era, the time when God's ideal world will be realized. Through a recognition of the limits of our ownership, we are reminded that we and all that we have, belong to HaShem, and that we should treat each other and make use of our possessions, in a way that shows we realize this. Our choice is to conquer and control the world, or to perfect it.