National Scholar Updates

Angel for Shabbat: Aharei Mot/Kedoshim

Angel for Shabbat: Aharei Mot/Kedoshim

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

In his book, An Anthropologist on Mars, Dr. Oliver Sacks discusses his meeting with a remarkable autistic teen ager. To get a sense of the boy’s abilities, he spread a jigsaw puzzle on a table and asked the boy to put it together. He did so quickly and correctly. Then Dr. Sacks put down another jigsaw puzzle with all the pieces face down so the boy could not have the picture to assist him. He put this puzzle together just as quickly as the first! (p. 211).

A thought struck me: it is possible to put all the pieces together correctly and still not see the picture. Extrapolating to religious life, one can learn and observe Judaism as discreet pieces of a puzzle but miss the picture.

The “whole picture” is suggested in this week’s Torah reading: “And you shall be holy for I, the Lord your God, am holy.” It is further evidenced in the instruction in Exodus for the Israelites to be a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” On both the personal and communal levels, we are to strive to maintain holy lives. This entails living in the presence of God, knowing that our lives have transcendent meaning, that we are to be models of piety and righteousness. Everything we do must be geared toward this over-arching goal.

Each piece of the puzzle—each of our deeds—is part of the picture. When we are so busy with the tasks and pressures of daily life, we may get lost in the details and lose the picture.

A rabbinic parable tells of a poor man who was struggling to support his family. He learned of a faraway land that was filled with precious jewels. A ship would soon be leaving for this land but would only return after an interval of unspecified length. His wife agreed that he should make the voyage, so as to be able to obtain valuable jewels to bring back to support his family in wealth and honor.

The man boarded the ship and was off to make his fortune. Sure enough, the ship arrived at the faraway land and indeed the earth was covered with diamonds and all types of precious stones. He hurriedly filled his pockets with jewels and was now an extraordinarily rich man. He rejoiced in the thought of how wealthy he and his family would be upon his return home.

But in the faraway land, the man soon realized that his precious stones were valueless. They were so abundant that no one paid any attention to them. None of the storekeepers would accept them as payment for merchandise. Rather, the currency of this land was wax candles.  Everyone strove to accumulate as many wax candles as possible.

The man worked hard and accumulated a large number of wax candles. He emptied his pockets and bags of the diamonds, rubies and emeralds. In this new land, he became wealthy and prominent--very successful.

Time passed. It was now time for the man to return to his wife and family. He boarded the ship, laden with as many candles as he could carry.

When he arrived home, his wife eagerly greeted him. She asked to see the treasures he had brought back. Proudly, the man opened his bags and emptied his pockets. He stacked up piles of wax candles. His wife was astonished. "You spent all that time in the faraway land, a land filled with precious jewels, and you brought back only piles of worthless wax candles?"

Suddenly, the man realized he had made a terrible mistake. When he had arrived in the faraway land, he knew he was supposed to gather precious gems--but he had soon forgotten his mission. Influenced by the people in that land, he had come to value candles and ignore jewels. He had thought that by accumulating candles, he had become successful. But now that he had returned home, he realized that he had missed his opportunity to bring back real treasures. 

We are placed on earth to attain transcendent treasures--wisdom, love, spiritual insight, moral courage, Torah and mitzvoth.  If we can keep our lives focused on these goals, we can return to our heavenly home with genuine treasures. But in this world, people chase after "wax candles"--material wealth, glitz, hedonistic lifestyles.  People are swayed by prevalent ideas and values.  It is possible to lose sight of our real treasures and goals. When we finally return home--to our heavenly home beyond--we may realize that we are bringing with us "wax candles" instead of precious jewels--that we had lived our lives chasing falsehoods and vanities rather than pursuing goodness, truth and piety.

“And you shall be holy for I, the Lord your God, am holy.” “And you shall be a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.”  Keep the "whole picture" in mind.

 



 

Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik's Views on Orthodoxy in Israel

 

On Friday, September 27, 1935, the Boston Jewish Advocate published an extensive interview with Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, who had recently returned to Boston following a four-month stay in Palestine. In what is arguably the most comprehensive articulation of his early Zionism—if one takes seriously the citations of the interviewer, Carl Alpert—Rabbi Soloveitchik set forth in this interview his perspective on the role of Orthodoxy in Erets Yisrael.

According to theJewish Advocate, Rabbi Soloveitchik said, “The future of Palestine is with Orthodoxy, just as the future of Orthodoxy lies in Palestine. I make this statement not as a rabbi, but as an objective observer. The recent newspaper announcement that ministers are being sent to Palestine to propagate Progressive Judaism is nonsense. Orthodoxy will be the only form of Judaism in Erets Yisrael.”

Later in the article, Rabbi Soloveitchik predicted that “When Palestine Orthodoxy is well-organized, it will reclaim even those who have gone astray. After all, even among the most radical halutsim there exists a subconscious desire and longing for religious life and observance that temporarily finds its outlet in the redemption of the soil and the renaissance of the Jewish people. If this religious fervor will be cultivated and brought into clear light, it will eventually lead to traditional Judaism.”

Finally, Rabbi Soloveitchik suggested, “It is the task of Orthodoxy to redeem not only the soil of Palestine, but also the souls of its sons and daughters, and bring them within the traditional fold.”

Although there are many dimensions to Rabbi Soloveitchik’s comments, some of which I recently addressed in an article analyzing Rabbi Soloveitchik’s early Boston career, the following article explores each of these statements from the contemporary perspective (inserting Medinat Yisrael for Palestine), asking if Rabbi Soloveitchik’s statements still ring true today, and if they calibrate with the ethos of contemporary Orthodoxy.

 

Is the future of Medinat Yisrael with Orthodoxy, and is the future of Orthodoxy in Medinat Yisrael?

 

Rabbi Soloveitchik’s first statement was made at a time when Orthodoxy in the United States still represented the normative religious community—at least in name—for the majority of Eastern European Jewish immigrants. Today, of course, although Orthodoxy is the norm (by law) in Israel vis-à-vis marriage and divorce and is generally adopted as the norm in synagogue life and burial, the layers of resentment felt among the non-Orthodox population are balanced by those who are content with the traditional model. Still, it is not difficult to imagine Medinat Yisrael without Orthodoxy. In fact, many claim that the Orthodox monopoly in the modern state is deleterious to its Jewish and democratic nature.

A number of years ago, I flew on a plane with Effy Eitam, who was then the leader of the National Religious Party in Israel. As I described to him my work within the religious establishment helping secular Israelis navigate religious life, he stopped me and said: “Let me tell you why you won’t ever be successful: The religious Zionist rabbinic leadership has a messianic vision that everyone will be Orthodox. I’m not sure that you are convinced that this is an ideal.”

Many Orthodox Jews remain unsure about Orthodoxy’s universal application among the contemporary Jewish community—especially in Israel. I’m not convinced that religious coercion is viable on the tactical or strategic planes. This certainly throws into question whether the future of Medinat Yisrael is with Orthodoxy.

As to the converse claim of Rabbi Soloveitchik, that the future of Orthodoxy is with Medinat Yisrael, I equally remain unconvinced, notwithstanding my personal decision to live in Israel. A number of years ago, I delivered a paper at the Orthodox Forum in New York about the so-called brain drain to Israel. The argument that many of my contemporaries put forward was that talented young leaders of (Modern) Orthodoxy were making aliya, thus depriving the North American Jewish community of its best and brightest. I argued that I believe Orthodoxy has flourished in North America, notwithstanding the departure of rabbinic leadership such as Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein, Rabbi Shlomo Riskin, or Rabbi Danny Tropper. In fact, the great renaissance of Orthodox Day Schools and Orthodox synagogues happened after each of these three men moved to Israel.

Ironically, it was Rabbi Soloveitchik himself who—failing to receive the position of Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv in 1935—forged contemporary Orthodoxy in the United States. I believe that the type of Orthodoxy Rabbi Soloveitchik contemplated might have had exclusivity in Medinat Yisrael, had history unfolded differently. But contemporary Orthodoxy is comprised of so many subgroups that it is hard to imagine that the future of Orthodoxy lies—at least exclusively—in Medinat Yisrael.

 

Will the religious fervor of the “halutsim” lead to traditional Judaism?

 

This second assertion of Rabbi Soloveitchik needs to be put in its immediate historical context as well. Just days before the interview in Boston, Rabbi Soloveitchik had paid a visit to Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, who was then ailing, and would pass away just before Rabbi Soloveitchik returned to Boston. No doubt this was a dramatic meeting for Rabbi Soloveitchik. (Rabbi Kook had studied with Rabbi Soloveitchik’s grandfather in the Volozhin yeshiva.) During his visit to Israel, Rabbi Soloveitchik had met with a number of students of Rabbi Kook. The statement which relates to a “subconscious desire and longing” may find its anchor in the influence of Rabbi Kook’s thinking on Rabbi Soloveitchik in the mid-1930s.

Whatever the case, today’s contemporary Jewish scene in Israel is a work in progress. There are still elements of theba’al-teshuvah movement of the 1970s, but more and more individuals who have a religious fervor (including those from the Orthodox community) are seeking a new-age type of religiosity that is a far cry from the type of Orthodoxy that Rabbi Soloveitchik espoused (and a far cry from the Orthodoxy that the normative Modern Orthodox community espouses). Sometimes known as ChabaKook (short for Chabad, Breslav, and Kook /Carlebach), this ideology has some connection to halakha but emphasizes the religious ecstatic moment rather than the disciplined cerebral one. It certainly is not “traditional” Judaism. My sense is that this is a phenomenon more central to Medinat Yisrael than to the North American Jewish community.

Again, given the contemporary Orthodox scene, I think there is still a lot of questioning going on in Israel about what is normative Orthodoxy. The ideals (and dreams) of Rabbi Soloveitchik do not appear to be either relevant or able to be realized given the contemporary Orthodox scene in Israel.

 

Is it the task of Orthodoxy to redeem not only the soil of Medinat Yisrael, but also the souls of its sons and daughters, and bring them within the traditional fold?

 

The last claim of Rabbi Soloveitchik is remarkable and deserves close attention. In many respects, notwithstanding the commitment to halakha that Orthodox Jews share, this statement reveals a layer of Jewish life not often spoken about. Orthodoxy is not only about kibbush (conquest), but also about kiruv (bringing near).  I imagine it was hard to conceive—particularly in the mid 1930s—that these two notions might stand in opposition. During the last three decades, too much emphasis in the Orthodox community has been placed on redeeming the soil (in the broadest sense of the term), and not enough emphasis has been placed on exposing the non-religious community to the beauty of traditional Judaism. The Modern Orthodox community has expended enormous resources on the settlement movement in Israel, without paying attention to the Jewish lives of Jews in Tel Aviv or Rishon Letzion. These Jewish souls have been exposed to a much more fundamentalist, Hareidi Orthodox approach, speaking in the name of halakhic Judaism. This is a trend that needs to be rectified.

Of course, one could argue that kiruv isn’t an essential part of Orthodoxy, or certainly halakhic practice. But in its broadest sense, Orthodoxy in Israel should see kol yisrael arevim zeh lazeh (all Jews are responsible for each other) not only as a descriptive adage, but rather as an imperative. If one can see Rabbi Soloveitchik’s terminology of “redemption of souls” as a charge to expose rather than impose traditional Judaism within the secular community, then I believe such a responsibility is still central to our community.

The challenges to contemporary Orthodoxy in Israel are enormous, and the implications of modernity and the founding of the State of Israel for traditional Judaism are still being explored in Israel. Notwithstanding the rising political clout of the Hareidi Orthodox parties in Israel, I believe that the Modern Orthodoxy that Rabbi Soloveitchik spoke of still has a place in Israel, and will ultimately play a central role in its future.

Thoughts for Yom Ha'Atsma'ut

At around the time that the State of Israel was being recognized by the United Nations, the Chief Rabbis of Israel wrote a letter in Arabic to the Arab world. The Sephardic Chief Rabbi Benzion Uziel, who was fluent in Arabic, likely wrote this letter that was signed by him and the Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi Yitzchak Herzog.

Although so many years have passed since the formal establishment of the State of Israel in 1948, the message of peace conveyed in this letter has largely been eclipsed by the ongoing hostilities and warfare.

Yom Ha'Atsma'ut, Israel Independence day, is observed this year on Tuesday night April 21 and Wednesday April 22. It's worthwhile to review the words of Rabbis Uziel and Herzog, and pray that the message of peace will prevail...sooner rather than later.

21 Kislev, 5708
"A Call to the Leaders of Islam for Peace and Brotherhood."

To the Heads of The Islamic Religion in the Land of Israel and throughout
the Arab lands near and far, Shalom U'Vracha:

Brothers, at this hour, as the Jewish people have returned to its land and
state, per the word of God and the prophets in the Holy Scriptures, and in
accordance with the decision of the United Nations, we approach you in peace
and brotherhood, in the name of God's Torah and the Holy Scriptures, and we
say to you:

Please remember the peaceful and friendly relations that existed between us
when we lived together in Arab lands and under Islamic Rulers during the
Golden Age, when together we developed brilliant intellectual insights of
wisdom and science for all of humanity's benefit. Please remember the sacred
words of the prophet Malachi, who said: "Have we not all one Father? Did not
one God create us? Why do we break faith with one another, profaning the
covenant of our ancestors?" (Malachi 2:10).

We were brothers, and we shall once again be brothers, working together in
cordial and neighborly relations in this Holy Land, so that we will build it
and make it flourish, for the benefit of all of its inhabitants, without
discrimination against anyone. We shall do so in faithful and calm
collaboration, so that we may all merit God's blessing on His land, from
which there shall radiate the light of peace to the entire world.

Signed,
Ben-Zion Meir Hai Uziel
Yitschak Isaac Ha-Levi Herzog

Three Pillars of Inclusive Orthodox Rabbinical Leadership

 

     “Inclusive Orthodoxy” was Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ way of describing how the majority of Jewish

congregations operate in Britain and the Commonwealth. In these communities most

synagogues are run along Orthodox lines with an Orthodox Rabbi, and some

members who are observant. However, most congregants are more traditional than

strict in their religious practice. Nevertheless, they are part of an Orthodox

congregation, and when the model is working at its best, they feel at home there, are

actively welcomed and valued, and they may even grow in their religious

commitment. Beyond their commitment to maintaining Orthodox communal

standards, these congregations are not part of a dedicated ideological project of any

particular variety, but religious communities that seek to provide a home to as many

Jews as possible.

     That is the model of the United Synagogue in London, similar congregations around

Britain, and in other countries including Canada, New Zealand, South Africa and my

own home in Australia. I have been the Rabbi of one such congregation, The Great

Synagogue of Sydney, for just over ten years now. In that time I have had to reflect

on how a Rabbi can and should lead an Inclusive Orthodox community. It is not

straightforward, and raises several quandaries. How can the Rabbi uphold Orthodox

standards while still welcoming everyone? How can he make everyone feel at home

even though they might have very different lifestyles to his own, and very different

from a halakhic ideal? How can he promote increased Jewish observance without

alienating his congregation?

     I cannot claim to have all the answers to these questions, but I think that the bridge

that needs to be built may rest on three pillars: Embracing, Exemplifying and

Encouraging. Just as Rabbi Sacks argued that Inclusive Orthodoxy as a whole was

not an accommodation, but an ideal, certainly in the context of the modern world as it

actually exists, I submit that this rabbinic approach is not just a strategic choice, but

is also a religious imperative.

     First comes Embracing. It is the job of the Rabbi of any congregation, and especially

a congregation where the members are not uniform in their level of religious

observance, to embrace each and every person. My young children have a board

book called We Go To Shul (by Douglas Florian and Hannah Tolson), which includes

the line “rabbi greets all those he meets”, which captures this responsibility

perfectly. Everyone who wants to come to any activities of the congregation should

be greeted, embraced, genuinely welcomed and valued, and they should feel that is

the authentic disposition of the Rabbi. This is a different concept to being non-

judgmental. Choosing not to be judgmental implies that I harbor an unexpressed

judgement, and I am making the decision not to bring it out, but it exists and I could if

I wanted. Embracing puts all that aside, and sees only a person who wants to

connect, and celebrating and facilitating that desire. Although, as I will go on to

argue, the Rabbi can and should be ambitious for each person’s religious growth,

authentic embrace is not a tool to bring about that growth but a fundamental

expression of Jewish values in its own right. When Maimonides codified the

obligation to love another Jew in Hilkhot Deot 6:3 he did so without qualification:

“Each person is commanded to love each and every one of Israel as themselves.” It

is not dependent on the level, actual or prospective, of religious observance.

     Sometimes this can be difficult, on a personal or a religious level. Some people are

difficult, they are prickly characters, or simply have a personality that does not click

with the Rabbi’s. Sometimes the Rabbi may feel frustration or disappointment with a

congregant’s religious observance. He might feel the congregant could do more, or

has even slipped backwards. He might feel that his hopes for that congregant have

not borne fruit, or that he has poured care and effort without experiencing reciprocity.

     There are two ways for the Rabbi to address this, and they are both internal work.

The first is to try to set all these considerations aside, and return to the core values

of universal and unconditional embrace. If that is not immediately or always possible,

then it is worth remembering that religious-pastoral relationships play out over a long

time. What does not happen this year may happen next year, or in ten years.

     Patience and persistence are the keys to both a happy and a successful rabbinate.

The second pillar is Exemplifying. Yelling at people to do more or do better probably

never worked well, and certainly cannot work today. A Rabbi makes clear their

standards not by demanding them of others but by living up to them, as much as

possible, himself. Again Maimonides points us towards this, when he advises

(Hilkhot Talmud Torah 4:1) that however wise a teacher may be, he should only be

followed if his behavior exemplifies proper conduct, because teaching ultimately

resides in actions more than words. The Rabbi must therefore be scrupulous in how

he speaks and what he eats, in timely and reliable attendance at services, visible

enthusiasm for the study of Torah, hospitality, generosity, acts of personal kindness.

As the Talmud states in Yoma 86a, he should prompt observers to say of him “how

pleasant are his ways, how proper are his deeds”.

     This should not make the Rabbi appear angelic, because the Torah was not given to

the angels. He can thoughtfully give insight into his struggles, because questioning

and doubt are inevitable parts of the religious experience, and his congregants

should not be misled into believing they alone face these challenges. That would be

both dishonest and unhelpful. In a careful way, the Rabbi can share the practical

struggles of, say, raising a young family while also attending to religious and

communal obligations, or the theological struggles that come from seeing the

innocent suffer.

     The Rabbi must also demonstrate palpable intellectual integrity and moral clarity. If

he feels the need to teach difficult lessons or transmit challenging ideas, he must do

so, but not in a way that demands agreement or compliance. The stance of the

Rabbi should be “you have asked me to be your teacher, and that gives me an

obligation to teach the truth as I see it. No one is obliged to agree with me, but you

have a right to know what I think, if I believe the circumstances call on me to tell you.”

     That combination of courage and conviction with humility and openness is a

contribution in itself and also makes even the hardest messages possible to give and

receive without destabilizing relationships. They reveal a Rabbi who might be wrong,

and knows he might be wrong, but who is not prepared to be a liar or a coward. Of

course, knowing when not to speak, and how not to speak is just as important, and

verbal recklessness is no more a quality in a Rabbi than it is in anyone else. What is

true, is that with the growth of love and trust, more can be said.

     Have I detailed impossibly high standards? Probably. Which means in turn there can

be modelling of living with imperfection, honesty about falling short, the need for

repair following rupture and a continual attempt to do better.

     The final pillar is Encouraging. The challenge is to nudge without becoming a

‘noodge’. In an Inclusive Orthodox congregation the Rabbi cannot rely on a shared

understanding of the practical binding force of Halacha, or on peer pressure and

social expectations, but he still wants to see his congregants grow in their religious

observance. He is not presiding over what is sometimes called a “kiruv shul”, a place

where everyone is consciously and deliberately on a journey towards greater

religious observance and they want the Rabbi to help them on that path. That is

probably not the project or the consensus of the membership of an Inclusive

Orthodox community. What, then, can the Rabbi do? He can and should encourage.

He should engage with his congregants, as Maimonides counsels “patiently and

Gently” (Hilkhot Deot 6:7). Suggesting to someone who rarely attends services to

come, not just more often in general but on a specific occasion, whether Shabbat,

Yom Tov, or weekday; offering to take time to learn Torah with them; not just laying

tefillin for them, but teaching them how to put on tefillin; teaching them how to read a

Haftarah, perhaps the Torah, or lead a service; giving them an active role in services

as a shamash or gabbai. This is aside from a role in lay leadership, such as joining

the synagogue board; it is about deepening specifically religious activity.

     Not everyone will agree to try to do more, some will agree but not follow through,

some will follow through for a while and then participation will tail off, but the more

and the wider the Rabbi’s encouragement the greater will be the results. This

encouragement has to be personal. I have not seen exhortations from the pulpit or

appeals in emails have much effect. Success comes most often from personal

invitations made in the context of personal relationships. The greatest success for

the Rabbi is when, in the case of an individual, he no longer needs to encourage,

because that person now attends and participates because of their own internal

enthusiasm and not because of an external intervention. Of course, no longer

making specific suggestions should never mean the relationship is allowed to

atrophy. Anyone can see when the Rabbi loses interest because their presence is

taken for granted, is regarded as “in the bag”.  Instead what starts out as drawing

people in can become a warm, close and settled relationship of fellowship and

appreciation. No one should feel looked down upon because they do less, but they

should feel celebrated when they do more.

     While these three pillars represent an ideal rather than a claim of personal

achievement, they are perhaps parts of a vision to which an Inclusive Orthodox

Rabbi can aspire and strive. They are a route to combining openness with integrity, breadth with growth, 

and authenticity with ambition. For a Rabbi called to this type of community and the challenges 

and opportunities it will bring, I submit these suggestions as an approach worth attempting.


 

 

 

Angel for Shabbat HaGadol

Angel for Shabbat HaGadol

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

“And the Lord gave the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians…” (Shemot 12:36).

For centuries, the Egyptians enslaved the Israelites with malice and cruelty. But when the Israelites were about to gain their freedom, the attitude of the Egyptians changed dramatically. The Israelites now “found favor in the sight of the Egyptians,” who showered gold, silver and garments on their erstwhile slaves.  Last year they hated us; today they love us; is this for real?

This strange phenomenon came to mind when I re-read an article I wrote in 2017, reporting on the results of a survey by the Pew Research Center. The survey showed that Americans expressed more positive feelings toward Jews than any other group! “Warmer feelings are expressed by people in all the major religious groups analyzed, as well as by both Democrats and Republicans, men and women, and younger and older adults.”  They loved us!

But the situation today seems so radically different. We are constantly barraged by statements and surveys that point to increased rates of anti-Semitism and anti-Zionism. Anti-Semitic violence is on the rise.  Did all the goodwill cited in earlier polls simply evaporate?

The bad news: people are fickle.  Attitudes can—and do—change due to media bias, publicity campaigns, statements by celebrities etc.  Public opinion can be—and is—manipulated through many sources. Not everyone has the clarity of mind or solid facts to make informed judgments. The crowd moves with the crowd. Demagogues know this and depend on this. By generating a non-stop flow of anti-Jewish and anti-Israel propaganda, they insidiously infect public opinion.

The good news: people can change for the better. They are able to overcome past negative stereotypes and come to see things more realistically. Most Americans, as reflected in earlier polls, admire the Jewish community as a highly educated, idealistic, charitable and constructive group. They respect the dynamic democracy of Israel and its amazing creativity and strength. When the anti-Jewish/anti-Israel fulminations die down, so will public opinion veer back in a positive and honest direction.

The haftara for Shabbat HaGadol is drawn from the prophecies of Malachi. He foresaw a day when righteousness will prevail over wickedness, when goodness will be rewarded and evil will be overcome. “But unto you that fear My name shall the sun of righteousness arise with healing in its wings; and you shall go forth and gambol as calves of the stall. And you shall tread down the wicked; for they shall be ashes under the soles of your feet in the day that I do make, says the Lord of hosts” (Malachi 3:20-21).

During this season, the ancient Israelites were freed from bondage. During this season, may our generation be saved from haters, oppressors and perpetrators of violence against us. "In Nisan the Israelites were redeemed; in Nisan the Israelites will be redeemed."

 

Paired Perspectives on the Parashah: Shemini

Shemini

Kashrut: Holiness through Separation

Introduction

 

Parashat Shemini concludes with the Torah’s first comprehensive presentation of the laws of kashrut. The chapter distinguishes between animals that may be eaten and those that are forbidden: land animals must possess both split hooves and chew their cud; fish must have fins and scales; many birds and most creeping creatures are prohibited.

 

Yet the Torah provides remarkably little explanation for these distinctions. It lists the laws in detail but offers almost no direct rationale for them. This silence has prompted centuries of interpretation as Jewish thinkers have sought to understand the deeper meaning behind the dietary laws.

 

Several complementary approaches emerge from Jewish interpretation across the centuries. Some interpreters emphasize possible physical or psychological effects of different foods. Others focus on the religious discipline created by these laws. Still others highlight the ethical and theological vision reflected in the Torah’s restrictions on human consumption of animals.

 

Together, these perspectives suggest that the laws of kashrut transform one of the most basic human activities—eating—into a domain of holiness.

 

Explanations for the Laws of Kashrut

 

Health Explanations

 

Some commentators suggested that the dietary laws may promote physical health. Rashbam (on Leviticus 11:3) and Rambam (Guide of the Perplexed III:48) propose that certain animals are prohibited because they are harmful to human beings.

 

At first glance, this approach appears plausible. Some non-kosher animals do indeed carry diseases—for example, pigs can transmit trichinosis, and hares may carry tularemia. Shellfish and other bottom feeders bring various health risks.

 

Nevertheless, this explanation encounters significant difficulties. The Torah itself never mentions health as a reason for these laws. Abarbanel further observes that many poisonous plants are not prohibited by the Torah. If the primary concern were human health, it would be surprising for such dangers to go unaddressed.

 

Rabbi Yitzhak Arama (Akedat Yitzhak) adds another challenge: many non-Jewish populations that consume these animals enjoy perfectly good health. While dietary restrictions may incidentally promote health, this was likely not the Torah’s primary concern.

 

Moral and Psychological Influence

 

Another explanation focuses on the moral and spiritual influence of the animals themselves. Ramban (on Leviticus 11:11) and Abarbanel suggest that the Torah prohibits the consumption of predatory animals because their violent nature might shape human character. In this view, people are influenced by what they eat.

 

This idea finds support in a broader pattern within the Torah’s laws. All predatory land animals are excluded from the list of permitted species. The Torah may be teaching that those who aspire to holiness should not nourish themselves from creatures defined by aggression and bloodshed.

 

At the same time, this explanation cannot fully account for the entire system. Several herbivorous animals are also prohibited, which suggests that additional considerations must be involved. Fish predators, moreover, are permitted under the Torah’s criteria of fins and scales.

 

Discipline and Spiritual Formation

 

A third approach shifts the focus from the nature of the animals to the spiritual discipline created by kashrut. Ibn Ezra (on Leviticus 11:43) explains that these laws protect Israel from impurity and preserve their sanctity. By carefully distinguishing between permitted and forbidden foods, the people cultivate constant awareness of holiness in everyday life.

 

Other commentators develop this idea further. Akedat Yitzhak and Shadal understand the dietary laws as a form of obedience that trains Israel to accept God’s will even in ordinary matters. Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch similarly stresses that kashrut elevates the physical act of eating into a spiritual practice.

 

The Torah itself hints at this idea in its conclusion to the chapter:

“For I am the Lord your God; sanctify yourselves and be holy, for I am holy… For I am the Lord who brought you up from the land of Egypt to be your God; you shall be holy, for I am holy” (Leviticus 11:44–45).

 

Holiness in the Torah frequently emerges through acts of separation and distinction. Just as God created the world by separating light from darkness, land from sea, and Israel from the nations, so too Israel learns holiness by distinguishing between what may and may not be eaten.

 

The Ethical System of Kashrut

 

Modern scholarship has also explored the ethical vision reflected in the dietary laws. Professor Jacob Milgrom (Anchor Bible) argues that kashrut forms part of a broader moral framework governing the human consumption of animals.

 

Limiting Human Domination

 

According to the Torah’s creation narrative, human beings were originally commanded to follow a vegetarian diet: “I have given you every seed-bearing plant… and every tree with fruit… they shall be yours for food” (Genesis 1:29). Only after the Flood was humanity permitted to eat meat (Genesis 9:3). Even then, the Torah immediately imposed restrictions.

 

The dietary laws therefore limit humanity’s domination over the animal world. Although people may eat meat, they may do so only within carefully defined boundaries.

 

This idea may also extend the distinction between clean and unclean animals already mentioned in the story of Noah. Noah offers sacrifices only from clean animals, and the Torah later restricts Israel’s diet in a similar way.

 

Excluding Predators

 

The Torah’s exclusion of predatory animals reinforces this ethical vision. Creatures that live by violence and bloodshed are not considered suitable food for a nation called to holiness.

 

This pattern lends additional support to the earlier interpretation of Ramban and Abarbanel that predatory behavior plays a role in determining which animals may be eaten.

 

Conclusion

 

The laws of kashrut transform eating into an arena of religious meaning.

Some explanations emphasize the possible physical or psychological effects of food. Others highlight the discipline created by obedience to divine law. Still others emphasize the ethical framework that governs humanity’s relationship with the animal world.

 

At the heart of the system lies the Torah’s call to holiness. Just as God created the world through acts of separation and distinction, Israel is called to cultivate holiness by learning to distinguish between permitted and forbidden.

Eating, one of the most ordinary activities of human life, thus becomes an opportunity to practice sanctity. Through the laws of kashrut, the Torah teaches that holiness is not confined to the sanctuary. It extends into the rhythms of daily living, shaping even the food that sustains us.

 

When Sunni Muslims pray for Israel

 

In an era when social media often amplifies hatred and outrage, something remarkable happened recently on X (formerly Twitter).

It began with a simple post I wrote on March 12. I mentioned that my sons, along with thousands of other young Israelis, are serving in the Israel Defense Forces as the Jewish state confronts Iran and its proxies. Like any father, I worry for their safety.

So I ended the post with a request directed to the people of Somaliland, a state that declared independence from Somalia in the early 1990s.

Over the years, I’ve met many Somalilanders online and been struck by their open admiration for Israel-its resilience, democracy, and ability to thrive despite hardship. Because of that, I asked them to do something unusual: pray for the IDF.

Even so, I never expected what happened next.

Replies poured in-warm, heartfelt, and sincere.

“I pray to Allah to stand with the people of Israel and protect them against Iran and all enemies who wish them harm."
- Rakad Sultan, businessman connected to Somaliland’s Ministry of Labor"

“We pray a lot for the sons of Israel who are fighting the enemy. May they be victorious!"
- Amin Ismail

“Our prayers are with you. May G-d protect and watch over you. Long live Israel."

The messages just kept coming. Again and again, religious Sunni Muslims from Somaliland expressed their willingness to pray for Jewish soldiers.

Pause and consider that.

In much of the Muslim world, public support for Israel is rare. Political rhetoric and decades of propaganda have fostered hostility toward the Jewish state. Yet here were Muslims openly praying for IDF soldiers-publicly, on a global platform.

Even more striking, it happened during Ramadan, a time of devotion and compassion. As Muslims worldwide turned to G-d, Somalilanders included Jewish soldiers in their prayers.

That is extraordinary-and deeply telling.

Located in the Horn of Africa along the Gulf of Aden, Somaliland declared independence in 1991. In three decades, it has built democratic institutions, held elections, and maintained stability in a turbulent region. Despite this, it remains unrecognized internationally. Israel, however, became the first to recognize it in December 2025.

Both societies share similarities: they arose from difficulty, were built under pressure, and survive in tough neighborhoods. But beyond geopolitics lies something more important-mutual respect between people.

The responses to my post weren’t official statements. They were simple prayers from ordinary Somalilanders.

And that’s why they matter.

Even among Arab countries that have peace with Israel, few citizens would so openly pray for its soldiers. For decades, hostility between Israel and the Muslim world was seen as inevitable.

But Somaliland offers another model - a Muslim-majority society that is pragmatic, outward-looking and open to cooperation.

Here were individuals who answered a Jewish father’s plea by asking Allah to protect his sons. That is more than a gesture. It’s a glimpse of what relations between Israel and the Muslim world could one day become.

Sometimes diplomacy doesn’t begin with treaties or official visits. Sometimes it begins somewhere far simpler: with a Jewish father asking for prayers, and Muslims answering that call.

 

 

Thoughts for Pessah

Thoughts for Pessah

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

 

At the Seder, we ate the “Hillel Sandwich,” Korekh, which includes both matsa and maror. Rabbi Benzion Uziel, late Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, pointed out that matsa—eaten as the Israelites left Egypt—symbolizes freedom. Maror—bitter herb—symbolizes the bitterness of slavery. We combine these two symbols to remind us that freedom and slavery are intertwined. Even when we are enslaved, we have our inner freedom. Even when we are free, we have to worry about falling back into slavery.

Until Mashiah arrives, we are always experiencing a mixture of matsa and maror, freedom and suffering. Sometimes things are better and sometimes worse…but we are constantly engaged in personal and national struggle.

We are currently living in very challenging times for Israel and the Jewish People. We all feel the taste of maror, the bitterness of war, death, anti-Semitism, ugly anti-Israel hatred. But we also have the taste of matsa…freedom. The State of Israel is strong, vibrant, and courageous. The Jewish People worldwide are standing up for our rights and for the honor of Israel. We are literally eating “korekh”, matsa and maror together, simultaneously. 

If the first days of Pessah highlight the mixed feelings symbolized by matsa and maror, the last days of Pessah stress redemption. On the Seventh Day of Pessah, the Torah reading features the song sung by Moses and the Israelites upon crossing the Sea of Reeds and escaping from their Egyptian oppressors. The focus is on the past redemption. On the Eighth Day of Pessah, the Haftara is drawn from the prophecies of Isaiah concerning the future redemption. “Cry aloud and sing for joy, Zion resettled, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.”

It has been noted that the redemption from Egypt is attributed entirely to the Almighty. The Israelites themselves were relatively passive in the process of gaining their freedom. But the ultimate redemption will require us to participate actively. While Hashem will be the guarantor, we will need to assume personal responsibility.

Along with our prayers, we each must stand with Am Yisrael in every way possible. We need action—communal, political, financial etc.—in support of Medinat Yisrael. We need to stand up against anti-Semites and anti-Zionists with fortitude…and we must prevail.

Isaiah’s words resonate: “Behold, God is my salvation, I trust and am not afraid; For God the Lord is my strength and my song and He is become my salvation…Cry aloud and sing for joy, Zion resettled, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.”

 

 

Art Appreciation and Creativity Development in the Jewish Day School

“Imagination is more important than knowledge.”

—Albert Einstein

“Pyramids, cathedrals, and rockets exist not because of geometric theories of structures or thermodynamics, but because they were first a picture—literally a vision in the minds of those who built them.”

—Historian Eugene Ferguson

Introduction

Art education is rarely prioritized in Jewish Day School curricula. A double curriculum of secular and religious studies often leaves little time for subjects whose importance is “still questioned.” Even in the best of secular schools, art education often survives, but only on a year-to-year basis with the constant threat of being slashed. If not for the monitoring by the education watchdogs and the relentless hard work of art advocates, there would be many artless schools in America and even more artless Jewish Day Schools.

The fact that art is offered in some schools and not others is nothing new. Many administrators or school boards have considered an art program “glorified busywork” and do not really understand the nature of art and its value to society. While no one group can be blamed for this misunderstanding, arguably most everyone who is against art programs rarely cares enough to give the matter of art education serious thought. As a result, the average Jewish Day School graduate, like most secular school graduates, is probably a victim of a passive attitude toward art education that often translates into no art classes being offered. There is a sad irony in this situation because the arts have always played a major role in Judaism. In this essay, therefore, I will argue that it is essential to have an art program in a Jewish Day School, and present ideas for what I think a rich art curriculum should consist of, taking into account limits on time that result from a “double curriculum.”

Before I talk about art education in a Jewish Day School setting, it is important to define what art is. It is commonly held that the definition of art has changed many times since the cave paintings were first created 40,000 years ago. It started with “art is magic,” then moved to “art is beauty and emotion,” then to “art is the artist’s view of the world,” and on and on and on. Each culture has defined art in its own way, depending on the time, the place, and the people who made it. But what is art today, in the twenty-first century, postmodern era? The present accepted definition is, “art is when a person takes any material or substance and uses it to make a statement.” Today, one can take paint, stone, clay, food, newspaper, scraps of metal, wire, cloth, vinyl, egg crates, rubber, or film and use them to make a statement. Anyone who has visited a museum of modern art anywhere in the Western world can attest to the variety of materials being used in unique ways. Like the paintings of the past, postmodern art of the twenty-first century challenges the viewer to think about and analyze what the artist is trying to say. But it may be more demanding than paintings of the past because the viewer may not readily understand the language of an artist who, for instance, uses a few tree branches to make a point.

What distinguishes art from science is that art and creativity are timeless. Science is like a ladder—each year humanity builds upon what it knows and what it has achieved to move forward and upward. When humanity makes progress in science, it usually replaces old techniques and old insights with new ones. Art is only somewhat similar, in that while artists employ techniques that build upon those of their predecessors, viewers do not cease appreciating and finding beauty in what came before. Cave paintings are just as fantastic to behold as a Michelangelo statue, or a Picasso painting, or an Andy Warhol silkscreen of a soup can, or a Frank Gehry piece of architecture. Someone might prefer one style over another, but each is still relevant today and can be appreciated. So with this in mind, why is it important to teach art in school?

Why Is an Art Education Important for Every Child?

Many people do not accept art as an important element in their lives or in the general education of their children. Therefore, there are numerous schools that lack art education, even in the richest and most progressive states.  I am fortunate to teach at a school whose headmaster and administrators value art education, but within many Jewish Day Schools across the country art education is often missing from their curricula. This is always an unfortunate state of affairs, and with budget cutbacks and financial restraints, the problem will only get worse. Therefore it is important to outline a few reasons why every child should have the opportunity of an art education throughout his or her years in school.

I use the term art education to mean a curriculum that combines the teaching of art appreciation and theory with the instruction of hands-on projects—seeing and doing. There are several reasons children benefit from this type of art education. Most broadly, art education can help nurture creativity and critical thinking, which are necessary to excel in a range of disciplines. If people stopped creating or thinking critically, progress in many fields—medicine, engineering, science, or literature would cease. At the same time, art education can encourage healthy risk-taking so that children become comfortable with stepping out of their “comfort zone,” and gain confidence in trying new projects. This ability to come to terms with risk-taking, and sometimes experiencing and recovering from failure, is an important skill-set to learn. Parents who therefore dream of their children becoming doctors or engineers or lawyers should consider that the skills taught in art education can be useful, and critical to, a variety of professional careers.

Aside from benefiting their future professional lives, art education both deepens and broadens children’s understanding of the world around them. Students who take art classes are not only able to appreciate art in museums, they are able comprehend and value the different cultures they come in contact with on a daily basis. Students equipped with this skill are more able to navigate through an increasingly multicultural world and interact intelligently with people of different backgrounds and faiths.

Finally, art education can help improve children’s academic performance. Making art is a uniquely human activity and the making and appreciating art marks an important stage in human intellectual development. In addition, research shows a correlation between studying art and academic achievement. For instance, art education correlated with higher SAT scores, and some studies show that students perform 30 percent better in business when they have taken art classes.[1]

Why Is an Art Education Especially Important in the Jewish Day School Setting?

To make connections.

We marvel at modern-day communication tools; the iPhone, the Internet, Skype, wi-fi, and the digital camera have all facilitated communication and the sharing of ideas. We can be in touch with people living anywhere in the world in a matter of a few seconds. But of course we cannot call or email people who lived years ago. Art is different, as it can put us in touch with civilizations and people that lived thousands of years ago. Art is the voice of what occurred.

Jewish Day School students are especially vested in history, so they can use art to better appreciate their Jewish cultural heritage and see how their forefathers and foremothers lived, as well as get a sense of the other civilizations of the ancient world. The art tells the story. Whether it is an ancient menorah, a ceramic jar, an Assyrian animal carving, an Egyptian tomb painting, a Babylonian ziggurat, or a Greek mosaic, art puts the viewer in direct contact with the past.

To nourish the soul.

How might a student feel when at the Kotel for the first time, or when he or she learns about the horrors of the Holocaust? The history and stories of the Jewish people can certainly open profound as well as unsettling emotions and feelings. In an art class, students can express their feelings and emotions and make a statement through the visual arts.  It is a place where they can incubate their thoughts without the pressure of a test. They can get lost in thought as they make a clay bowl; as they feel the wet clay slip through their fingers, they can find themselves. But it is where they can also explore their values and create a visual image that is reflective of their beliefs and concerns. For example, they can design a poster to express the injustice of the kidnapped soldier Gilad Shalit.  Nourishing the soul of a Jewish child has to include the arts as a way of integrating the life cycles, the emotions, the battlefields of Jewish history, and the spiritual meaning of our traditions. It is especially important and is a way of staying connected to Israel as well as the outside world.

To learn respect.

The world is filled with human rights violations, prejudice, discrimination, gender inequality, anti-Semitism, ethnic hatred, and war.  Art curricula can enlighten students both about their own culture, as well as the cultures of the world around them. The advantages of a Jewish education are enormous. But there is a downside to it. Day School students often grow up in an environment that is just like theirs, and they often miss the opportunity to mingle freely with kids from other backgrounds and lifestyles. An art program is a great way to learn about other cultures. This is increasingly important because Jewish people play on the world stage, and so it is essential that they be comfortable with other cultures for business, in politics, and for pleasure. For example, doing a Chinese landscape painting and along the way understanding the origin of this style of painting can help a Jewish Day School student learn about the symbolic meaning of the style and the culture within which it developed. Instead of laughing, which kids normally do when they see something that is bizarre or strange to them, if they have knowledge of what they are looking at, they can begin to respect different cultures. In the end, they will respect themselves as well for being culturally literate. Museum visits with observations and explanations are therefore very important. Worksheets, writing and sketching in the museum are wonderful ways to get children to ask about what they see.

To develop an interest in the aesthetic dimension of life.

Somehow a sense of aesthetics sometimes gets lost in the observant Jewish family tradition. Why? Does a sukkah have to be pre-fab and made of plastic? Does everyone’s wedding invitation have to look similar? Can a menorah be made from copper plumbing parts or fire bricks?  Judaica that is creative not only brings a smile to everyone’s face, but also can make them think more about the mitzvah. Holidays and semahot become more exciting and inspire more reflection when the Judaica is unique. Why does creativity tend to get lost in the tradition? This issue is something that I never quite understood, but is certainly a valid argument for a substantial art program in the Day School setting. There are endless possibilities for new and different ideas while keeping with tradition.

To take risks.

To become a creative person, one has to take risks, come up with new ideas, and have the tenacity to follow through with the creative process. In Jewish Day Schools, taking risks, or trying something different, is often avoided. More broadly, thinking and problem solving is becoming easier to avoid in the age of computer technology. It’s just easier to Google your way from start to finish. What is getting lost, therefore, is the teaching of problem solving and imparting the confidence in students to take risks. It is an especially important skill to have the courage to create something, change it, revise it, critique it and work with it. It doesn’t happen instantly. You have to work it through. That is the nature of the creative process. And you might get a great idea that just doesn’t pan out and that is okay too! It is just as important to learn from mistakes.

A Proposed Art Curriculum in the Jewish Day School

Ideally, if Day School art educators work together, a seamless art curriculum could be developed that would run from grades K–12 and that follows state standard guidelines.

Knowledge and skills would be built on prior experience, but would be revisited allowing for mastery. This is called a spiraling approach. Kids need to be re-exposed to the information and the experience for education and confidence building to work best.  The following are proposed standards, which are based, in part, on some baseline standards set by New York State:

Standard 1: Students should participate in the arts and make works of art that explore different kinds of subject matter, topics, themes, and metaphors. Students will understand and use sensory elements, organizational design principles, and expressive images to communicate their own ideas in works of art.

Standard 2: Students should know and use a variety of visual art materials, techniques, and processes and become aware of the many options and careers in the arts.

Standard 3: Students should respond critically to works of art connecting the individual work to aspects of human thought. They will learn to reflect on, interpret, and evaluate works of art using the language of art criticism.

Standard 4: Students should develop an understanding of the personal and cultural forces that shape artistic communications and how the arts shape the diverse cultures of past and present society. They will explore art and artifacts from world cultures and discover the roles that art plays in the lives of a given time and place. They will use art to understand the social, cultural, and environmental dimensions of human society.

With these standards as a guide and with the limited amount of time for art classes, I would propose the following:

K–2nd grade: An introduction to the different art materials and techniques, such as painting, sculpting, and printmaking. The emphasis should be on experimentation and exploration. Children should begin to feel confident with the materials. There should be a focus on Jewish themes, such as the holidays. Examples: a clay hannukiyah or a tzedaka box.

3rd–5th grade: An introduction to the elements of art, which are line, shape, form, color, value, texture, and space. Basic observational drawing skills and modeling skills should be introduced, as well as an introduction to the work of various artists.  Jewish themes should be used whenever possible. Examples: scenes of Israel painted in acrylic paint on canvas, three-dimensional soft sculpture.

6th–8th grade: Design principles should be introduced, such as balance, movement, rhythm, contrast, emphasis, pattern, unity, proportion, and variety. This is the language and grammar of art. Students in middle school should be given the opportunity to delve deeper into the art and culture of other lands as well as learn about the art of the Western world. An overview of the art movements as well as a close study of one of the artists should be explored. Examples: Chinese hand scrolls, hard-edge paintings, Picasso cubist portraits, pop-art paintings, the mosaic and South American rain sticks.

9th–12th grade: One unit of art is needed for a high school diploma and the choice is one of the four arts, which include dance, music, drama, or the visual arts. Students who choose fine arts should create a collection of artworks in a variety of media, based on assignments that encourage them to explore various ideas and viewpoints. Teachers should use rubrics for evaluation. College portfolios should be prepared for those students seeking admission to university art schools. Examples of projects: graphic design, lithography, computer graphics, poster design, and experimental sculpture.

Conclusion: To the Source

The center of our Jewish spirituality was the Holy Temple and from the beautiful biblical descriptions we know that there was an emphasis on aesthetics.  As it’s mentioned in the Torah, “Let them make a Holy Shrine that I may dwell amidst them” (Exodus 25:8). The descriptions in this part of the text tell us that the Israelites procured such materials as gold and silver along with fine artisanship, such as weaving, dyeing, and the setting of jewels. The Torah prescribes in detail all the fine materials to be used to build the Temple including the specific measurements and amounts. One could only imagine how beautiful it all was—a true work of art.

In the time of the Temple, Judaism’s expression of faith was fundamentally connected to the arts. And so it should be today as well. There is a concept in Judaism of “hidddur mitzvah”—beautifying the mitzvah. It is praiseworthy to not just fulfill the commandment, but to embellish the mitzvah with additional beauty, so as to express our love and respect for it. It is our responsibility as a community to continue that aesthetic journey with our children so that they may express their faith and so that they can appreciate and participate in the arts throughout their lives. After all, out of the Jewish Day School might come a great architect, industrial designer, fine artist, art teacher, graphic designer, interior designer, curator, art conservationist, art historian, commercial artist, fashion designer, frequent museum visitor, or art collector. Hopefully all of our children armed with a good art education in their Day School years will become lifelong participants in the creative process as well as the future caretakers of all of humanity’s artistic treasures. 


[1] The College Board Profile of SAT and Achievement Test Takes from 1990, 1991, 1992, 1993; “Why Business Should Support the Arts: Facts, Figures and Philosophy,” Business Committee for the Arts.