The Limits of Technology

It would not be an overstatement to say that we live in an age of unprecedented access to information. This access to information meanwhile is not only a uni-directional process. People, through the medium of blogs, Twitter feeds, Facebook and other services are not only consumers of content but we can be creators as well. The line between journalist and amateur is getting thinner and thinner as the tools to create content become more available and more affordable to masses of people.

From my own personal experience, I recall first hearing about the "Miracle on the Hudson" not by traditional media outlets but by the Facebook status updates of my friends who were witness firsthand to the different moments of the crash of US Airways Flight 1549. This episode and the multitude of stories like it are having profound implications on the way groups form and act, and on the very structures of society itself.

The truth of this statement extends beyond the domain of news media and enters into every facet of human life; from religions to political movements and everything in between. Isolated stories of wrongdoing in disparate locales throughout the globe no longer remain simply on the minds of residents of that area but rather we, as beneficiaries of the globalization of information, can connect the dots between a wrongdoing in Albany, another one in Brooklyn and another one in Los Angeles and uncover trends and respond in ways that would have been much harder a decade ago. In other words, the transaction costs of organizing for positive social change nationally has dramatically dropped thus making it significantly more accessible for a larger group of people to work towards that goal.

It also means that the temptation to find our outlet for human connection via electronic means will only grow greater as the technology to facilitate that becomes cheaper and easier to use. Robert Putnam in his now generation-defining book, Bowling Alone, argues that social groups, whether they be bowling leagues or rotary clubs, increases "social capital" that allows for healthy and functioning society. The loss of social groups has the predictably opposite effect by reducing social capital and thus negatively impacting the functioning of society. I do not believe that a community where the majority of social interactions are done by distance electronic methods produces the same qualitative results of either the need for human connection people crave nor the increase in necessary social capital that society requires.

I do not want to be mistakenly understood to say that online interaction is utterly unhelpful. On the contrary, online communication allows for the maintenance of long-distance relationships, provides an immeasurably valuable resource for the disabled and home-bound and a whole host of other benefits. However, no matter what benefits may arise from online communications, the need that people have for face-to-face human interaction, with real human touch, will in my opinion never disappear. Just because we may be able to Skype with home-bound senior citizens in Manhattan does not mean that organizations that provide volunteer visitors should fold and close shop. Just because we may be able to connect to a Daf Yomi shiur online does not mean we should altogether stop attending one in person at our local synagogue.

As the march of technological progress continues at its current fast clip, we must not forget to be always cognizant of the limits of any tool. Personal coffee makers and newspaper opinion columns did not replace the coffee shop nor did the telephone replace a regular visit to the grandparents and Skype, Facebook, Twitter and online webinars and whatever else may come will not replace a simple hug and a pat on the back.

Parshat Vayishlach: It's a Matter of Perspective

"I have become small from all the kindnesses..." (Bereishit 32:11)

Yaakov is on the verge of reuniting with his brother for the first time in years. By all accounts this is not to be a joyous occasion. Immediately after securing the firstborn blessing from their dying father, Yaakov flees into exile from his home and from his elder brother. It is only now as he seeks to return to his family and to his land that he must reckon with his brother, Esav. Will there be warfare? Will they both be able to put their past grievances behind them and turn a new page? These are the questions that must have been flashing through Yaakov's mind as he prepared for their imminent meeting.

It is in the midst of all the preparations for their reunion that Yaakov stops and prays. He turns to God and asks for help in overcoming this last challenge between him and his home. It is within that prayer that we uncover remarkable language that can play a truly transforming role in our lives. "I have become small from all the kindnesses and from all the truth that You have rendered Your servant..." Rav Saadia Gaon (b. 892- d. 942), the prominent Babylonian Geonic figure, offers an interpretation that many others after him have adopted: I am small and insignificant, Yaakov cries out, and thus how am I fit to be deserving of all the kindnesses that You have performed for me?"

The plea that Yaakov utters profoundly shifts the paradigm away from an ego-centric to a God-centric perspective. It is all too easy to see ourselves as the center of our own universes. The reality being that for the vast majority of our lives we are totally consumed with our own needs and objectives. The world operates for us and we do not operate for the world. All too often it is natural to see a goodness that occurs for us to be part of the natural order of things, while any negative action, even an unwanted red traffic light, to be entirely alien and foreign to our perceived way of the order of the world.

When we stop and examine Yaakov's plea, we are confronted with a real challenge. Yes, it is true that we must take care of our own needs. There is a Jewish value to making sure one does not abandon themselves. However, it is beneficial to have times where we step outside ourselves and move our position in our ordered universe from the center to a more peripheral position. Doing so allows us to take a broader, more balcony driven perspective on the world and is a healthy action to do regularly.

Yaakov in what to him was perhaps one of the most frightening and difficult periods in his life, stops and considers how small he truly is within the grand scheme of God's universe and from that place of smallness seeks God's help and indeed receives it. 

Building Inclusive Jewish Community

I have a short article up today in the On the Square feature section of the religion journal First Things on the topic of building inclusive Jewish community. In the article I propose a different paradigm for the foundation of inclusive Jewish community. A short excerpt:

Perhaps we require a different paradigm for Jewish inclusiveness. For a generation we have relied on shared ritual. But ritual runs directly into contentious issues such as gender separation, and leads to the stark contrast of the highest or lowest common denominator. The result is to uproot ritual—the articulation of faith as expressed differently by each denomination—from its foundations, and force a compromise with which no one is comfortable.

The rest of the article can be found here.

Parshat Toldot: Discovering the Positive

There are some things in our lives which we struggle to find the positive element of. Situations present themselves which cause us to wonder what is there to be thankful for in regards to this?

 

In this week's Parsha we are witness to the birth of two nations, the entrance unto the world's stage of two major actors that would shape the face of human civilization: Yaakov and Esav. Yaakov, who would father the twelve tribes of Israel, brings forth into the world the Jewish people. While our rabbis, through the Midrash, understand Esav as the spiritual father of the Roman Empire and later the Western World.

Esav, a hunter with little time for transmission of covenantal destiny, blessings or pondering the nature of God must have presented a challenge for Yitzhak. Yet, our parsha clearly states "ve'ye'ehav Yitzhak et Esav ki tziyad be-fiv - and Yitzhak loved Esav because the game of the hunt was in his mouth."

 

Rav Dovid Kimchi (b. 1160 d. 1235), states that of course Yitzhak loved Yaakov but the difficulty was to find a reason to love Esav. How does one come to appreciate, to be thankful for someone who represents practically the opposite of all one holds dear? Yet, despite all the difficulties, all the challenges in coming to grips with Esav, Yitzhak found a reason, found a way to connect with him. Rav Kimchi concludes that Yitzhak was able to appreciate Esav because "ki tziyad be-fiv," because he was able to provide for himself and his family, to provide food for those who needed.

 

The challenge presented to us through this week's parsha is to find ways to appreciate and to be thankful for people, situations and things in our lives that may not be the easiest to do so with. "Ve'ye'ehav Yitzhak et Esav ki tziyad be-fiv - And Yitzhak loved Esav because the game of the hunt was in his mouth".

Parshat Chayei Sarah: To be of...?

What does it mean to be 'of the world' and not at the same time? In many ways this is the task the Jewish people are charged with by God. Avraham, the father of the Jewish people, is called an ivri - Hebrew, the word essentially meaning "the other."

Indeed Avraham was vastly different than any other person residing in his time period. He believed in a unique single God that created humanity and deeply cares about the world and all of its inhabitants. He believed in a world of objective morality and had the courage to voice his sentiments even to God ("Will the Judge of the whole earth not judge justly?"). Yet, he was also very much of this world. He owned property, was married and had children and interacted with his neighbors and the cultures they were steeped in.

An incident in this week's parsha exemplifies Avraham's tension between otherness and non-otherness. In his negotiations to acquire a burial plot for his wife he states: "ger v'toshav anochi imachem - A stranger and a resident I am with you (23:4)." Within one sentence contains the core of the seemingly paradoxical existence that Avraham championed and the existence that was transmitted to us through the generations of Jewish faith.

To be of the world and not of it simultaneously means to live a life that fully appreciates the positives of the surrounding cultures. It means cultivating a discourse of respect and appreciation for people who are not Jewish and it means striving to be a model citizen in whatever country we live in. It also means staying true to our traditions, values and heritage and being above the fray of what is not so positive about the society we live in. 

The life we are called to lead, the life modeled on Avraham, is not a necessarily easy life nor is it meant to be. However, to be in the creative tension of "ger v'toshav" can help shape us into spectacularly vibrant, thinking, God-centered people who while rooted in our majestic mesorah are also civil and respectful central actors in the public square.

Esther Petrack and the Complexity of Modern Orthodoxy

I have to admit I do not watch the popular TV show, America's Next Top Model (ANTM). It is not that I am opposed to television - I am not, but reality television has never been my thing, especially when the show is all about modeling. However, even those of us in the Modern Orthodox community who do not watch ANTM heard about the Modern Orthodox model from Brookline, Esther Petrack. The video clip was circulated wide and far of the host of the show, Tyra Banks, asking Esther if she would be able to give up Shabbat to be on the show and Esther apparently replied with the famous words "I will do it."

Many pundits, both in the Jewish online and print media and in the blogosphere, took this as an example of the unrealistic life of Modern Orthodoxy. Many of them declared that Esther's words were testament to the fact that it was impossible to raise a child simultaneously in both the Torah and secular communities and that one would be sacrificed in pursuit of the other.

The newest report according to Esther's mother Marina is that Esther actually never said what she was made out to say. Rabbi Eliyahu Fink of the Pacific Jewish Center in California blogged about the incident and received an email from her mother in response. I encourage you to visit Rabbi Fink's blog to read the excerpts from her email but in essence what transpired was that the production team behind ANTM edited a much more lengthy response from Esther to Tyra Bank's question. In her more detailed actual response Esther outlined, according to her understanding of halakha, what she could do and what she would be unable to do. The editing team of the show for whatever reason chose to edit her response to appear as if she would wholesale forsake Shabbat for the television program.

Now that we have been given a more complete understanding of what occurred on the television program I believe we are left with an example of not the unsustainable nature of Modern Orthodoxy but rather the complexities of the lives Modern Orthodox committed Jews lead. I do not have to agree with every choice all committed Modern Orthodox Jews make in their negotiations between the world they live in and the world of Torah but I will never discount or not appreciate the thought and care that goes into making those decisions. To be a Modern Orthodox Jew is to fully embrace the messiness of life with all of its manifold and complicated interests.

It is not an easy life but most human endeavors worth doing have never been easy.

Parshat Lech Lecha: The Open Road

What a difference one parsha makes. We had ended last week's parsha with a discussion of the Tower of Babel. The Tower of Babel in the mind of Rabbi Naftali Zvi Yehuda Berlin (the Netziv) was world's first attempt at totalitarianism. Those intrepid citizens of the world decided to build one tower and one city as the catalyst towards the cultivation of one people and one world. Indeed, the Torah remarks that the language of all the inhabitants was the same and so were their thoughts.

The story of Babel is a warning about the dangers of too much uniformity and conformity. It is a story that cautions us about the difficulties in urban and settled life; how the rush to build a single city can very soon lead to the crushing of difference and diversity.

It is then all the more revealing that the parsha that follows last week's telling of Babel begins with the pre-political story of the Jewish nation with the narrative of Abraham. And it is even more revealing that the narrative begins with the command to "go forth from your land, your birthplace and your father's house." Abraham is told to pack his belongings, gather his family and begin sojourning to an unknown destination. He is thrust into the life of a wanderer. Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berdechiv, the great Chasidic teacher, is quick to mention that Abraham was not a nuisance or a vagabond but was a man intentionally journeying to a place he did not know, a mission drive life.

This is in stark contrast to the consolidation and fortification represented by the Tower of Babel. While there have been people throughout Jewish history who have led the life of spiritual wanderer, it is certainly not a normative nor prescribed lifestyle. However, perhaps the Torah by juxtaposing these two narratives together is teaching us to strike a balance between the rigidity of urbanization and the fluidity and potential of the open road. These two modes of life when existing as poles in tension and conflict with each other create for us the potential of spiritual discovery while providing the safety of rootedness. The challenge is not letting Babel and the call to "go forth" operate in isolation from each other but allowing them both to inform and deepen our lives.

Tragedy and our duty

During Yom Kippur a Jewish resident of nearby Somerville, Mitchell Heisman, committed suicide in Harvard Yard on the steps leading up to where the Reform services were taking place. I wrote a response to this tragic event for Boston's Jewish Advocate. The full text of the article follows:


The liturgy of Yom Kippur felt much more pronounced and real this year than perhaps in years past. As we stood and chanted “mi yihiyeh,” who shall live and “mi yamut,” who shall die, our minds could not help but turn to the tragedy that happened in our own back yard. Mitchell Heisman, a 35-year old Jewish Somerville resident, took his own life on the steps leading up to Harvard’s Memorial Church, the site of Harvard Hillel’s Reform Minyan Yom Kippur services. On a beautiful Saturday morning, as we proceeded through the rituals of Judaism’s most holy day, we were shaken from the beauty of the world around us, and a glimpse of human tragedy and suffering was revealed.

It is unclear from news reports how affiliated Mitchell was with the Jewish community. A quick glance through his 1900 page suicide note does reveal that he did view himself as a Jew and that this element of his identity played a seminal role in his formation. The question though of whether Mitchell was affiliated or not is a red herring.

The Torah in Deuteronomy 21 commands a peculiar ritual upon the discovery of an unidentified corpse near one’s city. The leaders of that city are meant to both declare their innocence in the person’s death and to ask forgiveness from G-d for the murder that occurred. How are both possible? If the community is innocent, why ask for forgiveness; and if the community is not innocent, why declare its innocence? The Torah teaches us that as a community we are collectively responsible for the welfare of those amongst us. We may be factually innocent from the death of that particular person, but that does not exonerate us from the collective responsibility; and we, as a Jewish community, must seize this moment and take stock of our preparedness.

Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski in his 1997 book “Getting Up When You’re Down” asks a fundamental question in his introduction: “What need is there for a book on depression in the Jewish family? Are there books on arthritis amongst Jews, or pneumonia among Jews?” The unfortunate reality is that mental illness, as Dr. Twerski explains, is “shrouded in a cloud of suspicion, secrecy and even shanda (shame).” This cloud obscures our ability to effectively reach out to those most in need. Perhaps the greatest tragedy is that the cloud is all too often only lifted once the suicide has happened.

The magazine of the Orthodox Union, Jewish Action, carried a groundbreaking article by Rabbi Nathaniel Helfgot in 2001, “Dimensions – A Young Man’s Story of Torment: Surviving Depression.” Rabbi Helfgot is a world renowned educator, author of several books and a public intellectual in the Modern Orthodox Jewish community. He went through a period of major depression in the ’90s and shared his story to help further open the Jewish community. He poignantly writes the following:

“Every few years, one reads in the newspaper of the frum boy who jumps off the George Washington Bridge or of the successful frum lawyer who shoots himself in the head, or the young adolescent yeshivah girl who runs away from home, never to be heard from again. And I sit and wonder, could these people have been helped before they reached the point of no return? Would they have felt less shame turning to someone if the community had created a culture where mental illness was not ‘someone’s fault’ or reflective of a personal flaw, but a disease to be treated and discussed in the same way and with the same empathy that one speaks of kidney disease, diabetes, and high blood pressure?”

We need to work tirelessly toward cultivating a greater atmosphere of loving concern and care amongst our community members. There is a fine line between gentle concern and “being nosy,” but simply being on the lookout for those who exist on the fringes of our community is a big step forward. Dr. Rosalynn Carter in her work “Helping Someone with Mental Illness” highlights several of the warning signs for mental illness, such as marked personality change; confused thinking; apathy; withdrawal from community; thinking or talking about suicide; or anger and hostility that is out of proportion to a situation. People exhibiting any or all of these symptoms need to be reached out to and proactively included in the community. Most importantly, they should not be kept a secret. Let a rabbi know what you have observed and hopefully a rabbi will be able to assist the person in finding a competent mental health practitioner.

The disorientation and shock we experienced on the tragic suicide of Mitchell Heisman should be the catalyst for a transformation in our communal perception of mental illness. The clouds that obscure our view of those most in need should be lifted, and those who exist on the fringes of our communities should be embraced with an open heart and open arms.

Covenantal Promise and Destiny: Wisdom for Life

I recently self-published a new book, Covenantal Promise and Destiny: Wisdom for Life. The book is the product of much reflection and study with students at Harvard Hillel on the books of Genesis and Deuteronomy.

I chose to focus in on those two books not only because they serve as the bookends for the Chumash but also because they form critical moments in the narrative arch of the Hebrew Bible. Within Genesis we uncover the greatest stories in human history; from God creating the world through the epic trials and tribulations of humanity and with it the process of narrowing unto one person and eventually unto one family to be the vehicle of holiness in this world. Deuteronomy is the greatest re-telling of the greatest storyline of the Jewish people by Moses, the greatest human leader. In every re-telling there is an act of interpretation and in that interpretation one can uncover great insights. When Genesis and Deuteronomy are studied together they reveal great wisdom that is directly applicable to our circumstances and to our time.

For those who decide to purchase my new book I hope it proves meaningful and worthwhile in aiding in your own development and in your study of Tanach and I look forward to hearing your comments. A book is not the end of a journey but rather one step along the way and I always appreciate feedback and reflections.

Shanah Tovah!

To all those who visit this blog wishing you a sweet new year filled with lots of Torah learning and deep engagement with Judaism! 

Shanah Tovah!

Demystifying The Amnon Yitzhak Affair

Many may now be familiar with the well circulated video clip of a former Israeli singer receiving lashes (malkot) by a rabbinic court (Beit Din). The story had appeared in several news outlets including the Jerusalem Post and caused quite a stir amongst many people throughout the Jewish world. There are two aspects to this story that need to be clarified for people to truly understand what transpired.

First, there is the personality of Rav Amnon Yitzhak himself. Rav Yitzhak is a tremendous public figure in Israel who has dedicated his life to bringing Jews closer to halakhic observance through his Shofar organization. His typical events can draw anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand people and that is because he utilizes outlandish skits and routines in order to simultaneously entertain while educate the crowds. The former singer who became the center of all this talk was not coerced into receiving lashes but rather he volunteered and asked for the treatment to assist him in achieving repentance. [It's another discussion altogether why performing for a mixed-gender audience should warrant such feelings of severe repentance.]

Second, one needs to understand the nature of these lashes. The lashes that were administered to this singer were essentially taps on his back and were entirely symbolic. The Beit Din did not severely beat him but rather gently struck him. The only sort of rabbinic court that can administer actual lashes is one comprised of rabbis possessing authentic ordination (semuchim) that was lost millenia ago through persecution. However, Jews have been using the instrument of honorary symbolic lashes for hundreds of years to serve as an impetus for repentance. This is especially true during the period of time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. For example, the Shulchan Aruch in O"H 607:6 explicitly states that "All the congregation receives 40 [symbolic] lashes after the afternoon service [before Yom Kippur] because through this their heart will turn away from transgressions that are close to them." Both the Magen Avraham (9) and the Mishnah Berurah (18) are quick to point out that these are in no way obligatory nowadays nor do they serve to actually mitigate the need to do the work of repentance but they can serve as instruments towards that repentance.

Therefore, the request of that former singer to receive symbolic lashes was actually quite in line with rabbinic tradition as practiced for centuries. What was not quite in line with rabbinic tradition was the broadcasting of that moment over the Internet by the Israeli celebrity rabbi Amnon Yitzhak.

Whether we choose to follow this custom or not, may this season of introspection and reflection be a meaningful and transformational one.

Parshat Ki Tavo: Meaningful Labor

Work can be an uplifting experience. Work can give pride to those who view the fruit of their labor and marvel at their accomplishments. It can enable men and women to provide sustenance and shelter to themselves and their families, and assist people on their way toward discovering the “good life.” However, work can also be demeaning and humiliating. Work can destroy an individual’s self-worth and self-esteem and can obliterate their very humanity. Instead of leaving from a day’s work, able to provide a home and food for themselves and their children, they find their pockets nearly empty and their backs and hands sore from excruciating labor. Rather than experiencing a life filled with work that uplifts and inspires, the individual finds himself or herself stuck in a monotony of pain, depression and mounting bills.

What is the differentiating factor between those who find their work meaningful and uplifting and those that come home everyday from their occupations empty, broken and dejected? Why do some take pride in their work and others only seek ways to escape from the torture they call their life? This week’s Torah portion, Parshat Ki Tavo, presents a possible explanation and solution to this quandary.

Moses, addressing the Nation of Israel, a nation that at that point in history had only recently been freed from the brutality of two centuries of harsh slavery, details the procedures the Israelites will follow when they come to the Land of Israel. The first law given in this Parsha is the law of bikkurim, of the first fruits. Upon entering and establishing sovereignty over the Land, the Jewish people are enjoined to bring the first fruits of their yearly agricultural labors to the Temple in Jerusalem and offer them up to God. At the moment of the transfer of the fruits from the one who toiled over their production, the farmer to the kohen, the farmer declares:

An Aramean sought to destroy my forefather, and he went down to Egypt and sojourned there with a small number of people, and there, he became a great mighty and numerous nation. And the Egyptians treated us cruelly and afflicted us and imposed harsh labor upon us. So we cried out to the Lord, God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil and our oppression. And the Lord brought us out from Egypt with a strong hand and with an outstretched arm, with great awe, and with signs and wonders.

And he brought us to this place, and He gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And now, behold, I have brought the first of the fruit of the ground which you, O Lord, have given to me.

The Torah is commanding the one who offers the fruit to make this declaration is creating a clear contrast between the existence suffered in Egypt and the life in the Land of Israel. Furthermore, Rashi highlights the contrast even more by mentioning that the law of bikkurim did not become binding until the land that they toiled on was their property and sovereignty was established on it.

The process of bikkurim, of the offering of the first fruits, establishes an important principle in meaningful work. Labor has the potential to provide a sense of accomplishment and pride to the laborer only when the laborer has, at least, some ownership over the work of their own hands. When work is completely and utterly
appropriated by others, and the worker receives, at the most, pennies for each product they produce, that is a form of slavery. Slavery demeans, dehumanizes and destroys a person, reducing them from an individual to a thing possessed by their masters. The slavery experienced by the Israelites in ancient Egypt was not only meant to produce a product but to destroy the soul of the slave and demoralize them from collective action. Therefore, Moses in the first commandment in this Parsha, enjoins the people to experience a work that has purpose and meaning.

Those that brought the bikkurim declared to the presiding kohen, to all those in attendance, to God and to themselves, that the work that produced those first fruits was their work; they planted the seeds, they tilled the ground, they reaped the fruits and they had the ownership over the product to do with it as they saw fit. By being able to make the choice to bring that fruit to the Temple, the farmer is exercising control over the work of his or her hands that someone who does not own the result of their labor cannot do. This is the differentiating factor between the labor done in ancient Egypt and that done in the Land of Israel. This is also perhaps the differentiating factor between those in our own modern era who experience their occupations as a source of pride and those that go from one torturous day to the next in the jobs they perform.

This Shabbat, with the lessons of bikkurim fresh in our minds, let us commit ourselves to find ways to take ownership over the fruit of our hands. Let us not give up hope in being able to find meaning and self-worth in our occupations. Similarly, if we are (future) managers, executives or owners of businesses, let us commit to try and find ways to share more with those who make our businesses possible; with the laborers who toil everyday, those that make our success a reality. In order so that we may “rejoice with all the good that the Lord, your God, has granted you and your household you, the Levite, and the stranger who is among you. (Deuteronomy 26:11)”

Parshat Ki Teitzei - God and the Slaves

"You shall not deliver a slave to his master if he desires refuge with you from his master." (Devarim 23:16)

There is quite a lot of discussion within the rabbinic literature, both ancient and modern, as to the institution of slavery as codified within the Torah. No matter how one understands slavery in the Torah - as an intrinsic value or as a concession to the state of human affairs - one cannot deny that slaves had a better life in the Torah's system than in other ancient societies. One proof of this elevated sense of compassion towards those without societal privilege is the verse quoted above. A runaway slave is not to be compelled back into the brutal arms of their master but rather is accorded sanctuary within your domain.

The next verse continues this conversation and includes a very powerful textual reference that illustrates how profoundly important this mitzvah is. The Torah states that: "Rather, he shall dwell among you, wherever he chooses [bamakom asher yivhar]..." This is the only time the phrase "bamakom asher yivhar" is used in the Torah to refer to a circumstance other than the future site of God's dwelling on earth, the Temple. 

The message is resoundingly clear. The level of investment, effort and the sanctity we accord to the place where God's presence is felt on earth must be matched with the same for how we treat the least amongst us.  

May we strengthen our commitment to the underprivileged and by so doing strengthen our relationship with God.

Parshat Shoftim: The Pursuit of Truth

"Justice, justice shall you pursue..." (Devarim 16:20)

It has been displayed on fliers and on billboards. It has been shouted at rallies and sung at demonstrations. “Tzedek, tzedek tirdof – Justice, justice shall you pursue” became the rallying cry of every social action and social justice Jewish organization around the world. And then it became dull, dry and overused. New phrases had to be implemented, new songs created and new fliers printed in order to replace the once all-popular but now defunct catch phrase of “tzedek, tzedek tirdof.”

What does “tzedek, tzedek tirdof” actually mean? Does it live up to its hype? Rashi understands the phrase to enjoin upon us to seek justice in a proper Beit Din. His reading is based upon the interpretation of the Sifre. This is how Hizkuni, among others, also understand it. The double use of the word tzedek is to teach us that the court we choose to adjudicate our cases must be one which judges with truthful justice.

A Beraitah is quoted in the Gemara in Sanhedrin 32b, that says the same idea eloquently “justice, justice shall you pursue, the same for judgment and for compromise.” A judge is to show no favor, no partiality regardless of the case or the petitioners. Unwavering truthful justice - tzedek tzedek tirdof.

There is another way to read this phrase though and that is the interpretation of Ibn Ezra. He reads the double usage of the word tzedek to emphasize the importance of pursuing righteousness. No matter whether the righteousness “benefits you or harms you". The work of justice is not meant to be a money making scheme or a path to getting rich quickly. On the contrary, it could harm chances for moving up the employment ladder, could distance a person from others and could seriously harm a person's chance for material success. If, on the other hand, it does contribute to the financial success of a person that is fine and not to be looked down upon but that is not the goal of working towards justice.

Perhaps Ibn Ezra's comment on tzedek tzedek tirdof might help us better understand the connection between this verse and the one that follows. The following verse warns Israel to not plant anasherah tree next to the altar. The asherah trees were used for the worship of the pagan mother-goddess asherah but also had a decorative, ornamental function in houses of worship in the ancient world. While the primary reason to not plant an asherah tree near the altar had to do with its idolatrous significance, one does have to wonder about the decorative aspect to it as well.

Ramban suggests that the verse is admonishing Israel not to plant an asherah next to the altar “for beauty and to think that it is an honor and glory for the altar of God.” In other words, to beautify unnecessarily the altar and to distract from the service being performed. One does not need to be beguiled nor distracted when the religious act being performed is one of righteousness and truthfulness.

The thread therefore that runs between tzedek tzedek tirdof and the asherah tree is integrity and truth. Seforno explicitly links the corruptible judge and the asherah tree as matters that are pleasing but despicable for their inner deficiencies. So while this explanation of tzedek tzedek tirdof might not elicit sudden bursts of protest chants or camp songs it sure does convey a powerful message about the qualities of truthfulness, honesty and integrity. In the end it is not the most popular judge nor the most aesthetically beautiful religious practice that wins the day but rather the pursuit of truth no matter its cost is the ideal embodied in those famous words of tzedek tzedek tirdof.   

The Jewish Advocate on the Statement of Principles

The newspaper that covers Boston Jewish life, The Jewish Advocate, has an article this week on the Statement of Principles. As someone who was one of the first to sign the Statement and as a local Boston rabbi I was interviewed for the article. The newspaper only allows access to its articles by subscription so I can only post a few quotes but I encourage those who are in the greater Boston area to subscribe to the Advocate and support a local institution if you have not done so already:

Orthodox Rabbi Benjamin Greenberg of Harvard Hillel – who signed the letter along with his wife, Sharon Weiss-Greenberg– said: “My hope is that any GLBT Jew who is struggling with their orientation will see this letter and realize, ‘There are rabbis who are willing to hear me and will welcome me. I can be who I am.’”

Greenberg said he hoped the letter would help ease the crisis of identity and level of depression among young Orthodox Jews. “I think this letter clearly states the person is to be fully embraced; it’s not just lip service,” he said.

Sharon Weiss-Greenberg said she hoped the letter would spur further acceptance of gays. “Many [Orthodox] communities are at this stage or well beyond this stage, but there are some communities that could learn,” she said. “Leaders in the community should be treating everyone equally, giving someone a hug or inviting someone to your house and showing you’re accepting.”

The full article (subscriber access only) can be found here.

Parshat Eikev - A Manna Mentality

“Every commandment that I command you this day you shall keep to do so that you may live... (Devarim 8:1)”

Moshe in the opening words of Chapter 8 of our Parsha admonishes Klal Yisrael to observe and to guard the mitzvot in order that they may live and that they may prosper in the Land of Israel. The challenges that await Klal Yisrael are great as they stand at the threshold of territorial acquisition and eventual sovereignty. To lead a life that is guided by moral rectitude within the solitude of the desert is one matter but to do so within the hustle and bustle of cities, towns and marketplaces is an entirely different matter altogether. Hence, as Moshe is in the midst of delivering his final sermon to the Jewish people, as they stand at the threshold of entering the Land of Israel, he is especially concerned with the continuity of religious purpose and moral vision.

This is something that I think many of us are concerned with lately as well. With images of political corruption, money laundering and Ponzi schemes etched into our minds from the front covers of so many newspapers over the past year there seems to be a severe breakdown in the moral character of our society.
 
What did Moshe choose to emphasize when cautioning Am Yisrael? “He afflicted you and let you hunger, then He fed you the manna that you did not know, nor did your forefathers know, in order to make you know that not by bread alone does man live, rather by everything that emanates from the mouth of God does man live (8:3).” Moshe decides to conjure up the memory of the manna as an illustration to why the Jewish people on the verge of becoming free, with all of its trappings and temptations, should continue to observe the precepts of the Torah.
 
The manna, as Nahmanides explains, vividly teaches the dependence of humanity on God and that all of human life is woven within the plans of God. In other words, the manna educates us about the humility of life. It puts all of our grand plans, our desires and our wants within the infinitely larger framework of God.
 
When one is reminded that even the most basic commodities like bread to eat and water to drink is dependent on God, it makes the lure of an unethical behavior just that bit less attractive. I think society at large, and the Jewish people in particular, could benefit from a little more of a manna mentality. The cautioning of Moshe to Klal Yisrael as they stood in that wilderness all those years ago remains as relevant today as it did then.
 
Therefore, it is my prayer that the next time we open up the Boston Globe or the New York Times and we read articles of communal leaders, both in general society and in the Jewish community, it is a depiction of just and upright work and not the reverse. 

Statement of Principles on the Place of Jews with a Homosexual Orientation in Our Community

We, the undersigned Orthodox rabbis, rashei yeshiva, ramim, Jewish educators and communal leaders affirm the following principles with regard to the place of Jews with a homosexual orientation in our community:

1. All human beings are created in the image of God and deserve to be treated with dignity and respect (kevod haberiyot). Every Jew is obligated to fulfill the entire range of mitzvot between person and person in relation to persons who are homosexual or have feelings of same sex attraction. Embarrassing, harassing or demeaning someone with a homosexual orientation or same-sex attraction is a violation of Torah prohibitions that embody the deepest values of Judaism.

2. The question of whether sexual orientation is primarily genetic, or rather environmentally generated, is irrelevant to our obligation to treat human beings with same-sex attractions and orientations with dignity and respect. 

[Full article can be found here.]

Signed by the following as of July 22, 2010:
Rabbi Yosef Adler
Rabbi Elisha Anscelovits
Rabbi Hayyim Angel
Rabbi Marc Angel
Rabbi Maurice Appelbaum
Mrs. Nechama Goldman Barash
Rabbi Avi Baumol
Rabbi Dr. Shalom Berger
Rabbi Dr. Joshua Berman
Rabbi Todd Berman
Dr. David Bernstein
Rabbi David Bigman
Rabbi Yitzchak Blau
Dr. Erica Brown
Rabbi Yuval Cherlow
Rabbi Mark Dratch
Rabbi Ira Ebbin
Rabbi Rafi Eis
Mrs. Atara Eis
Rabbi Yitzhak Etshalom
Rabbi Dr. Shaul (Seth) Farber
Ms. Rachel Feingold
Rabbi Jeffrey Fox
Rabbi Aaron Frank
Rabbi Aharon Frazier
Rabbi Avidan Freedman
Rabbi Shmuel Goldin
Rabbi Mark Gottlieb
Rabbi Barry Gelman
Rabbi Benjamin Greenberg
Rabbi Zvi Grumet
Rabbi Alan Haber
Dr. Aviad Hacohen
Rabbi Tully Harcsztark
Rabbi Nathaniel Helfgot
Dr. Daniel Kahn
Rabbi Yosef Kanefsky
Rabbi Jay Kellman
Rabbi Aryeh Klapper
Mrs. Judy Klitsner
Rabbi Shmuel Klitsner
Rabbi Jeff Kobrin
Dr. Aaron Koller
Rabbi Barry Kornblau
Dr. Meesh Hammer Kossoy
Rabbi Binny Krauss
Mrs. Esther Krauss
Rabbi Dr. Benny Lau
Rabbi Zvi Leshem
Rabbi Dr. Martin Lockshin
Rabbi Dr. Haskel Lookstein
Rabbi Asher Lopatin
Rabbi Chaim Marder
Rabbi Dr. Adam Mintz
Rabbi Jonathan Morgenstern
Rabbi Dr. Yaacov Nagen (Genack)
Mrs. C.B. Neugroschl
Dr. Caroline Pyser
Rabbi Daniel Reifman
Rabbi Avi Robinson
Rabbi Jeremy Savitsky
Rabbi Noam Shapiro
Rabbi Yehuda Seif
Rabbi Adam Schier
Ms. Lisa Schlaff
Rabbi Yehuda Septimus
Rabbi Adam Starr
Rabbi Chaim Strauchler
Rabbi Yehuda Sussman
Rabbi Mordechai Torczyner
Mrs. Dara Unterberg
Rabbi Michael Unterberg
Rabbi Dr. Avie Walfish
Dr. Dina Weiner
Ms. Sara Weinerman
Rabbi David Wolkenfeld
Rabbi Elie Weinstock
Rabbi Alan Yuter
Dr. Yael Ziegler
Rabbi Dr. Stuart Zweiter

Tisha b'Av and Personal Loss

The Talmud (Gittin 58a) relates the following story:

Rav Yehudah said in the name of Rav: It is related that the son and the daughter of R. Yishmael b. Elisha were carried off [and sold to] two masters. Some time after the two met together, and one said, I have a slave the most beautiful in the world. The other said, I have a female slave the most beautiful in the world. They said: Let us marry them to one another and share the children. They put them in the same room. The boy sat in one corner and the girl in another. He said: I am a priest descended from high priests, and shall I marry a bondwoman? She said: I am the daughter of a priest descended from high priests, and shall I be married to a slave? So they passed all the night in tears. When the day dawned they recognized one another and fell on one another's necks and bemoaned themselves with tears until their souls departed. For them Jeremiah utters lamentation, For these I am weeping, my eye, my eye pours forth water.

This tragic story is transformed into one of the most evocative of the kinnot, the liturgical poems, recited during Tisha b'Av. The kinnot written by a variety of authors throughout the history of Jewish exile relate the diverse ways the Jewish people have suffered in the last two millennia. They weave through the destruction of both Temples, the exile by Babylon, the exile by Rome, the havoc and destruction caused by the Crusades, the persecution of our religious leaders and guides and eventually the utter obliteration of European Jewry that was the Holocaust.

It is within this spectrum of death and destruction, of tears that know no end, that we relate the loss of two individuals. These individuals, the children of Rabbi Yishmael the Kohen Gadol, were not particularly remarkable or notable. They were two people amongst throngs of suffering, humiliated, ridiculed exiles. Yet, the Talmud and later the composer of the kinna, chose to highlight their particular form of humiliation and eventual death. In so doing the mourning transitions from events of national calamity, of places and great personalities, and moves to the individual and the personal. On Tisha b'Av we sit on the floor and cry. We cry for the loss of our spiritual and national centers of life. We cry for the loss of our teachers and role models. We also cry for the loss of every individual, every person who was made to suffer throughout the two thousand years of Jewish wandering and exile.

This Tisha b'Av afternoon, during Minha, I will recite the mourners kaddish as I do every year. I have spent some time over the years researching my family history and piecing together the history of my family through Europe. I think of my family in Austria, the Ukraine and Lithuania amongst other places that perished in the Holocaust. I think of my cousins who did not persevere through the torment of Stalin's Russia. I think of my family who suffered untold horrors during the Kishinev Pogrom of 1903. I also think of all the family members of whom I will never know their name who suffered degradation, torture and persecution and with all those memories I stand and recite kaddish in the merit of their neshamot.

Each individual is precious and priceless. Each individual is made in the image of God. On Tisha b'Av we reflect on both the loss of our communities; our autonomy, our religious centers and leadership and on the loss of every person - from the son and daughter of Rabbi Yishmael to the members of our own extended family.

May we who mourn for Jerusalem and all of her offspring merit to see her complete rebuilding with compassion.  

Parshat Devarim - The Destructive Power of Hatred

"These are the words that Moses spoke to all Israel..." (Devarim 1:1)

This week we cross the threshold from the Book of Bamidbar to the Book of Devarim, the last book of the Torah. Devarim is unique in the constellation of the five books in that it is less a vehicle for introducing new legislation or a record of what is happening as it is the last great speech of Moshe to the people. Not much longer from the opening words of the book of Devarim will Moshe take his last breath and leave the world of the finite and entire the world of truth. 


In his last days on earth, Moshe offers advice and counsel to the Bnei Yisrael as they are poised to enter the Land of Israel and take hold of their destinies. As someone who knew his people extraordinarily well and had an intimate understanding of their nature, he feels confident in rebuking them for their past failures and reminding them of where they fell short so as not to repeat those errors of judgment again. 

The Sifrei, a classic compilation of Biblical exegesis, narrows in on the addition of the words "all of Israel" in the first verse and explains that these words are crucial to Moshe's objective at that moment. Moshe made sure that all of Israel was present for his offering of rebuke for if even one person was not they could claim naive innocence if they fell into their old habits. Improvement hinged on all of the people being present to hear and integrate Moshe's last teaching. In other words, ultimately the collective success or failure of the group depended on everyone being held accountable; everyone responsible for themselves and each other. 

As we enter this Shabbat let us appreciate the moment in our year that we are fast approaching. This coming Monday night we commence an intensive 25-hour mourning period for all the national calamities that befell our people during the last two millennia. on Tisha B'Av we reflect on the disasters that have struck the Jewish people, internalize the memory of collective pain and draw ourselves closer to the often tragic but also tremendous past of our people. 

However, Tisha B'Av is not just a moment to think about the past but it is also a time to reflect on the present and where we are going as a people. In the past few weeks there has been a lot of difficult and complex testing moments for the integrity and unity of the Jewish people. To name but a few: the disagreement transpiring in Syracuse, New York between a small Orthodox congregation and the National Council of Young Israel; the bill in front of the Knesset that would change the landscape of conversion throughout the world; the arrest of a woman carrying a Sefer Torah through the path adjacent to the Kotel and the protests and arrests as the Israeli Supreme Court weighed in on allegations of racism in a Beis Yaakov school in the city of Emmanuel. 

All of these events try our ability to think compassionately and about the best interests of the Jewish people. Every new moment of tension makes it more difficult for us to see from the balcony perspective and to not get bitter and cynical. The Talmud (Gittin 56a) relates the well known story of two individuals, Kamtza and Bar Kamtza. The story goes that Bar Kamtza was delivered an invitation to a party meant for Kamtza. The host of the party can not stand Bar Kamtza and when he arrives demands that he leaves. Bar Kamtza, in an effort to prevent being humiliated, offers to cover his costs at the party but his offer is refused. He keeps on upping the offer until he eventually offers to pay for the whole party and once again he is refused. All the while the rabbis are seated at the party and remain silent. Bar Kamtza enraged leaves the party and makes his way to the Romans instigating what would lead to the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple.

The rabbis understand this story allegorically to teach us about the destructive nature of hatred and animosity. When we can no longer see each other as made in the image of God, as fellow members of the brit, of the covenant, we lose the ability to think rationally and we perform actions that have deep negative consequences. The rabbis by connecting this Talmudic story to the collective losses we recollect on Tisha B'Av are demanding that we grow in our sense of love and respect for each other and try to find the common good that benefits all. 

Moshe in his final speech to the Jewish people chose to offer constructive rebuke. He did not admonish for the sake of admonishment but rather so that we would learn and grow. Our people faces significant challenges now both here in the States and abroad. As we reflect on Moshe's rebuke this Shabbat and later sit and recollect the tragedies of our people on Tisha B'Av, let us learn the lesson of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza. Let us lessen our rhetoric, open our eyes and see those who we disagree with as members of the same large family. Let us not see disagreements, whether they be here or in Israel, as opportunities to feed our cynicism and scorn but rather as chances to come to better solutions and to work cooperatively for the good of all the Jewish people.

Jewish Summer Camp and Jewish Continuity

To say that I grew up not as a camping sort of person would be an understatement. When I look back at my childhood I never wanted to leave the confines of a city and was more comfortable around computers than climbing walls. I am still very happy within city limits but I have come to realize a powerful truth about imparting Jewish values and tradition to the next generation - the key is Jewish summer camp. Many of you might know that my wife Sharon is a Jewish summer camp rockstar. She spent the majority of her life attending Camp Stone in Pennsylvania, eventually becoming the head of camp for two summers and is now doing her doctoral research for NYU on the topic of gender studies in the Jewish summer camp setting. Sharon introduced me to Jewish summer camping and allowed me to see firsthand the profound impact it has on young Jews.

Imagine close to 400 people gathered around together in concentric circles. All of these people are under the age of 30 and the overwhelming majority are between 8-15 years of age. It is hard to conceive of any situation in which 400 young people are all refraining from chatter and are focused on the activity at hand. Yet, this is precisely what I observed, not once but every time I have been to camp for Shabbat: A chorus of voices rising together singing during Seudah Shlishit as the sun was beginning to hide itself amongst the treetops. Remarkable moments involving hundreds of children of devotion and spirituality do not occur in a vacuum. They are the result of living daily in a community infused with a love for Judaism. They are the result of being surrounded by a community that does not only observe Judaism but celebrates a life of Torah and mitzvot.

It is rare indeed to be situated, at any point in your life, in a place of sustained rejoicing and celebration of Judaism. We may gather a small glimpse of that utopian life but then it escapes us and leaves behind only a faint imprint in our hearts and minds. The search for the cloistered and serene life though is not the purpose of living Jewishly. The raison d’être of the Jewish life is to make the profane sacred, to transform the world and lift it up to holiness. It is not to escape from the mundane to the holy but rather to bring holiness down into this world and suffuse our environment with the Divine. Nonetheless, from a pedagogical perspective the effect of a summer of sustained positive Jewish living as a young person can never be underestimated. Jewish summer camp provides for children the opportunity to be an active member of a mini-society that wholly and unequivocally loves Judaism, where one could find that they are even dancing at a Tuesday morning Shacharit minyan.

My observations may be obvious to many of you but for me they are a hiddush, a novel idea. For those of you with young children I urge you to consider the option of Jewish summer camp. It is, in my opinion and without exaggeration, a crucial key towards the transmission of positive Jewish identity to the next generation.

Parshat Massei - The Reflective Life

"... but he was not his enemy and bore him no malice." (Bamidbar 35:23)

Revenge is one of those things that can take over a person's life and utterly consume their every waking thought and action. The impulse to take action against those who have wronged us can be absolutely overwhelming. Shylock in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice famously defends his basic humanity with the well known words, "If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" In other words, revenge is as basic to humanity as our very mortality. 

It is within this understanding of the nature of revenge that the Torah decrees that cities of refuge shall be constructed throughout the Land of Israel. These protected spaces are meant to serve as safe havens for those who have unintentionally killed another human being. The threat of revenge from family members enraged over the loss of their loved ones is just too great to risk exposure for these individuals and for their own safety they must remain within the confines of these cities.

The Torah though does not allow all murderers refuge in these safe spaces. The act of murder must have been done within a certain set of parameters for the individual to be granted asylum.  The Parshadescribes in great length the specifications and it is within the context of that description that we come across a fascinating statement: 

"But if he pushed him accidentally, without malice, or threw an object at him without premeditation, or, with any stone which is deadly, and without seeing [his victim] he threw it down at him and it killed him, but he was not his enemy and bore him no malice (35:22-23)."

In describing some of the parameters that define an unintentional murder the Torah specifically points to the intent of the murderer (e.g. "without malice," "without premeditation," "was not his enemy" and "bore him no malice"). I have been told by trial lawyers that one of the most difficult elements to prove beyond a reasonable doubt is the actual intent of the defendant. One can reasonably demonstrate based on various pieces of evidence what the intent most likely was but as long as the defendant denies malicious intent, it is very difficult to absolutely and unequivocally prove. 

The Torah serves as both a judicial roadmap towards creating a just society and as a living document that challenges us religiously, spiritually, morally and ethically. In its judicial capacity this text needs to be understood in a way that is manageable and doable for human courts and a human justice system. Thus, the Gemara in Makkot 7b learns a basic principle from this verse that those who while throwing things down kill someone can claim refuge, the same is not true for those who heave heavy objects upwards. The assumption is that throwing a heavy object up requires more focus and attention and thus one should notice if someone is standing right in your direction while throwing an object downwards is relatively easy and one can easily just drop an item without realizing who is standing below. 

Simultaneously, this pasuk is challenging us to live a life of self-awareness and honesty. When one throws objects around one should look before they throw. The same is true for when one does any action in this world - one must be aware of what they are doing, be in the moment and also think about the consequences of that action. A person must also be honest with themselves and with others. It takes great courage to be truly honest with one's self and that is even more true when it comes to others. A person could only rightfully claim refuge when they really bore no malice or bad intentions towards their victim. Knowing one's own intentions and feelings towards others is a critical piece of being part of community and towards greater self-understanding. The Parsha challenges us to live up to a life filled with moments of self-reflection and a life of honest interactions with our own self and with the rest of humanity.

International Rabbinic Fellowship Press Release

Press Release

Contact: Rabbi Jason Herman, Executive Director Phone: 917.751.5265 Email: jlherman@jlherman.net

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE 9 A.M. EDT, July 2, 2010

ORTHODOX JUDAISM’S NEWEST RABBINIC GROUP, INTERNATIONAL RABBINIC FELLOWSHIP (IRF), CONVENES CONFERENCE TO FORGE ITS FUTURE, ADOPT CONVERSION POLICIES, OUTLINE ROLE OF WOMEN AS SPIRITUAL LEADERS

The International Rabbinic Fellowship, an organization of over 150 American, Israeli, and world rabbis met this past week at the Pearlstone Conference and Retreat Center outside Baltimore, Maryland to strengthen collegial relationships, study torah, and discuss ideas that impact rabbinic practice.  The group voted on and adopted several policies and resolutions that will guide Orthodoxy’s future.  

A highlight of the conference was the presence of Rav David Stav, Rabbi of the Shoham community in Israel, Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Hesder Petach Tikva and founder of Tzohar, a large Israeli Rabbinic group.  Conference attendees were privileged to discuss at length with Rabbi Stav critical issues facing the State of Israel and the Jewish people.   

Resolutions that were discussed in depth and adopted by the IRF included the official establishment of the IRF’s conversion committee (Va’ad Giur) that will oversee, guide, and ensure the thoroughness of conversions performed by IRF members.  The committee consists of several American and Israeli well known rabbinic scholars and has been constituted as a body not to centralize conversions but to help guide the group’s members in conversions that they may effect for their own congregants and constituents. 

Said Rabbi Barry Gelman, IRF president, "The IRF's Vaad Giur will serve to ensure that each rabbi retains the proper ability to care for and guide their own candidates for conversion. The IRF Giyur process, which includes a very important mentorship component, guarantees that candidates for conversion will be well prepared and that the Rabbis are provided with ongoing guidance and support."

Orthodoxy’s broadest resolution yet outlining the role of and opportunities available for women working in Orthodox synagogues in Rabbinic capacities was also adopted at the conference.

The following is the text of the resolution as adopted by the International Rabbinic Fellowship:

IRF Resolution on Women in Communal Leadership Roles

 
The International Rabbinic Fellowship is thankful and grateful to the Almighty and to a cadre of visionary educators, rabbis and communal leaders of the Modern Orthodox community for the amazing growth of Torah learning for women, in all its forms, which has transformed the face of the Orthodox community for the better in the last fifty years.

We strongly support the work and efforts of the myriad of Torah learning programs and institutions for women, both long-established and new, both in the Diaspora and in Israel. We hope that these institutions continue to grow and that even more opportunities for talented women who would like to continue on to the next level of Torah scholarship, involving multi-year opportunities for serious Torah learning, will emerge in the years to come.

We express our support for the sincere desire of the graduates of these learning programs to contribute their spiritual talents to the Jewish people as teachers, spiritual guides and mentors. We also affirm the dedication and sacrifice of so many women in our community, and their desire to serve their congregations and their people in formal leadership capacities, while affirming the specific areas that Halakha delimits.

We strongly encourage communities and their rabbinic leaders to create opportunities to discuss this important phenomenon in an open and reflective manner, in order to enable continuing progress in a spirit of shalom and communal harmony.

In an effort to outline some practical guidelines that we believe our communities should consider – recognizing that each community and its rabbinic leadership retain the authority to determine what is appropriate for their communal context – we affirm that:

Observant and committed Orthodox women who are learned, trained and competent should have every opportunity to fully serve the Jewish community:

1. As teachers of Torah, in all its breadth and depth – Shebikhtav, Shebe‘al Peh and Practical Halakha – to both men and women.

2. As persons who can answer questions and provide guidance to both men and women in all areas of Jewish law in which they are well-versed.

3. As clergy who function as pastoral counselors – visiting the sick, helping couples work through relationship difficulties, taking care of the arrangements for burial, speaking at life-cycle events and giving counsel to individuals and families in distress.

4.  As spiritual preachers and guides who teach classes and deliver divrei Torah and derashot, in the synagogue and out, both during the week and on Shabbatot and holidays.

5. As spiritual guides and mentors, helping arrange and managing life-cycle events such as weddings, bar- and bat-mitzvah celebrations and funerals, while refraining from engaging in those aspects of these events that Halakha does not allow for women to take part in.

6. As presidents and full members of the boards of synagogues and other Torah institutions.

For more information about the International Rabbinic Fellowship or its conference contact any of the following IRF officers:

Rabbi Barry Gelman, tel. 713.723.3850, email

Rabbi Hyim Shafner, tel. 314.583.4397, email

Rabbi Nissan Antine, tel. 301.279.7010 x 209, email<rabbiantine@gmail.com>

Rabbi Yosef Kanefsky, tel. 310.276.9269, email

Rabbi Marc D. Angel, tel. 212.724.4145, email <mdangel@jewishideas.org>

Rabbi Jason Herman, IRF Executive Director, tel. 917.751.5265, email