One need not have a particular pedigree to become an Abraham. One need not necessarily be a weak or strong person. One need not be free of misjudgments or doubts. One need not be at a place that demands no further growth or help from others of a different community. But one must be prepared to sacrifice for a life of Torah and mitzvot.
The Jew is a citizen of the world and is part of it, and in this respect functions in the framework of all humanity. However, the Jew also is unique, separate and alone. The Jew is sustained not merely from the natural ways of the world, but also from the higher level of humanity—the level that includes the acceptance of the yoke of Heaven, mitzvoth, and holiness.
Despite our strong numbers and increasingly professionalized infrastructure, ask a Modern Orthodox educator how our community is doing, and you’ll likely hear ambivalence or frustration at best, apocalyptic predictions of the imminent demise of our movement at worst—certainly not the triumphalism or chest-thumping that our ostensible institutional success would seem to warrant.
Healthy societies and communities depend on their members’ loyalty and sense of responsibility. They thrive when people work for the general good and not just for their own self-interest. People realize that if they are to enjoy the benefits of a society/community, they should rightfully share in the responsibilities of its maintenance.
It is with great hesitation and trepidation that I write this essay. I do not want to be misunderstood. I am in love with Judaism, rabbinic tradition, and halakha. I regard them as holy, and they are at the very core of my existence. Nonetheless, I am concerned about the future of Judaism and its impact on our young people.
A Letter to My Brother in the Maghreb
By Meir Buzaglo
Many years have passed since we were last in touch, but I have nevertheless never forgotten you. How could I? Seeing as my mother and father, my brothers and my sisters always remind me of you—in the way they talk and dress, in their generosity.
One cannot simply just erase hundreds of years.
The Jewish Press has a bi-weekly feature in which questions are posed to a group of rabbis. One of the respondents is Rabbi Marc D. Angel. Here are his responses to several recent questions.
Rabbi Marc Angel's Tuesday morning class will resume on October 29. We'll be discussing Talmudic texts that relate seemingly simple stories/lessons...but which, upon reflection, set our minds to thinking about larger issues...faith, redemption, suffering, hope, interpersonal relationships...and more.
The class meets at the Apple Bank building, 2100 Broadway, NYC, in the Institute's office in the mezzanine. The bank doors open at 8:30 am; class begins at 8:40 am and concludes at 9:30 am. Coffee/tea and danish are available.
How did I get here? It’s a question that crosses my mind every day. How did a feminist, culturally affiliated Ashkenazic Jew from small-town Connecticut —by way of Northeastern University, Harvard Divinity School, Hebrew University, a backpacking jaunt through Europe, and a new-age kibbutz—end up meticulously checking chard in a Sephardic Modern Orthodox home?
We have many exciting educational offerings in September!
Sunday, September 15: Special Symposium on Rabbi Marc Angel’s Thought