National Scholar Updates

The authors are associated with the Center for Women's Justice, in Jerusalem, www.cwj.org.il. The Center represented convert "X" in her struggles with the Israeli rabbinic courts, and won the case on her behalf. This report of the proceedings is a stark reminder of injustices within the rabbinic court system in Israel, and the need for the public to work together to change the system dramatically.

Table of Contents

Overview.. 3

Timeline. 3

About CWJ4

CWJ's position. 4

Background. 5

The Conversion. 5

The Conversion Annulment 15 Years Later. 6

The Appeal to the High Rabbinic Court7

The interrogation of Michal in the High Rabbinic Court July 2007. 7

The Shock. 9

Michal’s Petition to the High Court of Justice. 9

The Interrogation in the Tel Aviv District Court (Michal's Affidavit), June 2009- March 2010 10

Hearing on September 7, 2009 – Michal and A are Examined. 11

The Hearing on October 20, 2009 – Michal and Mr. P are Examined. 13

Interrogations on March 15, 2010 – Michal and Avi are Examined. 15

Exhaustion and humiliation as a result of the interrogation. 17

What’s Next: From Michal to You. 19

Questions for Discussion. 22

Some Rabbinic Sources. 23

References and Links. 24

Overview
This is the story of "X" (hereinafter: "Michal#_edn1" name="_ednref1" title="">"), a Jewish convert in Israel whose status as a Jew became the subject of unwarranted and seemingly unending interrogations by Israeli rabbinic courts 17 years after her conversion. The booklet tells the story of how Michal converted to Judaism, had her conversion revoked, and then had it reinstated. The story reveals the interrogations that Michal endured at the hands of the rabbinic courts. The affidavit that Michal submitted to the High Court of Justice is set forth almost in its entirety.

Timeline
January 2007. Michal and her husband filed a joint petition to the Ashdod Rabbinic Court asking to arrange for an amicable divorce. During the divorce proceeding, the rabbi in charge asked Michal a number of questions regarding her religious practices. Instead of a divorce decree, Michal received a decision revoking her conversion, and placing her Jewishness in question.

April 2007. Michal appealed this decision to the High Rabbinic Court. As part of the appeal, the High Rabbinic Court headed by Rabbi Avraham Sherman, subjected Michal to intense interrogation regarding her conversion and her life-style subsequent to the conversion.

February 2008. The High Rabbinic Court affirmed the Ashdod decision revoking Michal's conversion.

June 2008.CWJ asked High Court of Justice to vacate the decisions of the Ashdod Rabbinic Court and the High Rabbinic Court and to declare that those Courts had acted outside of their jurisdiction and had infringed on the due process of our client.

May 2009. The High Court of Justice recommended that Michal be sent back to the Tel Aviv Rabbinic Court to review the holdings of the Ashdod and High Rabbinic Courts. The Tel Aviv Rabbinic Court subjected Michal to another round of interrogations that were no less trying than the ones she endured at the hands of the Ashdod and High Rabbinic Courts.

September 2010. The Tel Aviv Rabbinic Court held that Michal's original conversion was valid and that she and her children are Jews. In response, CWJ has asked the High Court to rule on the question of whether a rabbinic court In Israel has the authority to overturn conversions. CWJ, as well as Michal, anxiously await the answer to this critical question.

About CWJ
CWJ, a public interest law organization established in 2004, is dedicated to defending and protect the rights of women in Israel to equality, dignity and justice in Jewish law. The Public Interest Litigation Project of CWJ addresses problems of Israeli women living under religious laws, including the issues of the agunah (woman denied divorce), mamzer (child born to adulterous women), and converts (usually women).

CWJ promotes solutions to the challenge of the status of Jewish women by filing strategic lawsuits in Israeli secular courts, based on the understanding that change will not come from dealing with individual cases within rabbinic courts, but only when civil courts take responsibility to advance systemic change on behalf of women. These strategic lawsuits include damage suits in family courts, cases of rabbinic violations of “natural justice” in the High Court of Justice”, and select cases in the rabbinic court.

CWJ accompanied Michal throughout the entire process and represented her both in the High Court of Justice and in the District and High Rabbinic Courts. CWJ will continue to fight for the dignity and rights of converts in Israel and aims to bring this crucial issue to the public attention.

CWJ's position
It is CWJ's position that rabbinic courts do not have the authority to reverse conversions and that they should be forbidden from ever interrogating converts regarding their religious conduct.

There are thousands of converts currently living in Israel. Since the 2008 decision of the High Rabbinic Court, all of these conversions are at risk. If the current practice of interrogating converts regarding their religious practices is not banned, Rabbinic Courts can interrogate converts with regard to their religious practices at various instances – when they want to divorce, when they want to marry, and when their children want to marry. Converts should not have to live under the threat of close examination of their deeds or the threat of having their Jewish status and identity retroactively revoked.

Allowing this practice greatly impacts on the willingness of any person to undergo the conversion process in Israel, a fact that ironically undermines the very goals of the rabbinic courts to prevent intermarriages in the State of Israel.

Background
The Conversion
Michal was born in Europe and met “A.” [hereafter “Avi”], an Israeli man twenty years ago, while she was travelling abroad in Asia. Michal fell in love with Avi, came to Israel, and decided to stay. Michal began the lengthy process of conversion, which took about two years. Michal’s family objected to her desire to convert and for this reason cut off all contact with her. After a long period of Jewish studies, Michal passed all the relevant examinations for conversion, and the Special Rabbinic Court for Conversion headed by Rabbi Hayim Druckman accepted her for conversion. After her conversion, Michal married Avi in a Jewish wedding ceremony in accordance with Jewish law.

Michal realized her dream and built a Jewish home together with Avi in Israel. Like Ruth the Moabite, Michal considered Judaism her religion, the people of Israel her people, and the Land of Israel her home. Michal had the wholehearted support of Avi’s family and her own family of origin eventually accepted her back as their daughter because they understood that she was determined to be a Jew and to live in Israel. Michal and Aviestablished a lovely family and have three children.

Comment: “Matters of conversion” do not fall within the jurisdiction accorded to the rabbinic courts by statute under the Rabbinic Courts Jurisdiction (Marriage and Divorce) Law, 5713-1953. Nor does any other statute give the rabbinic courts express jurisdiction over conversion. This is not accidental. The legislature refrained – consciously – from subjecting matters of conversion to the jurisdiction of the rabbinic courts.
In the 1990’s, after the immigration to Israel of around 300,000 immigrants from the FSU and Ethiopia, there was a great demand and national need for conversion. In 1995, in a decision of the Prime Minister’s Office, Special Rabbinic Courts for Conversion were established in order to regulate the subject of conversion. The Special Rabbinic Courts for Conversion are not part of the regular rabbinic courts and their jurisdiction does not stem from any particular legislation.

The Conversion Annulment 15 Years Later
After 15 years of marriage, Michal and Avisadly decided to divorce, a decision about which they were in complete agreement. The two went to the Regional Rabbinic Court in Ashdod with a divorce agreement signed and authorized before the civil court and asked the rabbinic court to conduct the ceremony necessary to carry out the divorce. While getting ready to conduct the divorce ceremony, the rabbinic judge, Rabbi Avraham Atiya, interrupted the proceedings and casually asked Michal two completely unrelated questions: “Do you use the electricity on Shabbat?” and “Do you go to the mikveh?” Michal had no idea that her spontaneous answers to these two irrelevant questions would form the basis of a decision to nullify her conversion and register her and her children in the blacklist of those "ineligible for marriage" to Jews in the State of Israel.

Comment: The State of Israel has a blacklist of “those ineligible to marry” Jews in Israel. This list includes, among others, those who are defined as mamzerim (bastards), women who are temporarily prohibited from marrying because of claims that the get should be vacated (bitul get), and converts whose conversions are deemed to be in doubt by the rabbinic court.

Michal had no idea what was going on. Indeed, in the hearing room, the rabbinic judge did not say one word to Michal asserting that he was contemplating the validity of her conversation. Michal went through the divorce ritual like any other Jewish woman, and was sent home without anyone informing her of the judge’s intentions motives. Only after repeated futile attempts by Michal to obtain her certificate of divorce did she realize that something was amiss.

Several months after the divorce, Michal received a nine-page judgment ruling that her conversion was invalid and that she and her children were to be put on the blacklist of people who are ineligible to marry Jews in Israel. Over the next months, Michal received three addendums to the initial judgment that together comprise a 46-page document.

Comment: In the 46 official pages of the rabbinic court judgment, there is only one sentence – 12 words – that explains the decision to annul Michal’s conversion. The rest of the document relates very generally to the conversions performed by Rabbi Druckman, Rabbi Avior, the military rabbinic courts, and Rabbi Yisrael Rosen, and expresses the overarching view of the rabbinic court judge regarding who has authority to perform conversions in Israel.

The Appeal to the High Rabbinic Court
Represented by Rivkah Lubitch, a rabbinic court pleader who heads the Center for Women’s Justice Haifa office, Michal appealed the Ashdod Rabbinic Court ruling that held that she was not Jewish. CWJ argued that the Court had exceeded its jurisdiction by asking questions that were irrelevant to the amicable divorce, and that in any event halakha did not allow for the repeal of a conversion on any grounds. Among other things, CWJ argued that the Torah warns against the mistreatment of converts no less than 36 times, and that, according to the Talmud, even a convert who returns to "idol worship" remains unequivocally a Jew.#_edn2" name="_ednref2" title="">

Instead of ruling on our legal arguments, the High Rabbinic Court judges decided to interrogate Michal and Aviregarding their Jewish lifestyle.

The interrogation of Michal in the High Rabbinic Court July 2007
Michal was asked to leave the courtroom at the beginning while Aviwas interrogated at length about a whole series of issues: how he met Michal; what they studied to prepare for their conversion; what their relationship with the adoptive family#_edn3" name="_ednref3" title=""> assigned to help Michal through the conversion process was like before and after the conversion; their observance of the commandments (mitzvoth) after the conversion; and their sexual relations during the period that they were studying for conversion. Aviwas also questioned about his religious studies during the period prior to the conversion and how he changed after the conversion. He was also asked about the Special Conversion Court: How many times had the court required him to appear before the court, what questions did they ask, and how was the ritual immersion in the mikveh conducted.

When Avi’s interview was over, he was asked to leave the courtroom and Michal was called in for her own interrogation. The court questioned her about her parents’ religion, her connection to Judaism, how she met Avi, her decision to immigrate to Israel, the extent to which Aviobeyed the mitzvoth, changes that Avimay have undergone as a result of the conversion; and their relationship with the adoptive family. Michal told the judges that during the period that they were studying for the conversion, the couple obeyed mitzvoth (they refrained from mixing meat and milk, and lived in separate rooms at Avi’s parents' home). Michal was also asked many questions about her studies under the auspices of the Special Conversion Court, about the relationship of that Court with Rabbi Druckman and about the questions that the Court asked her prior to the conversion ceremony itself. Michal was asked about the mikveh and explained how embarrassed she had been to stand in a room with three rabbis in a robe that clung tightly to her body. She was asked about her relationship with her parents and she explained that her parents had cut off contact with her until the birth of their first baby. She also explained how, subsequent to the conversion, she had sent the children to religious kindergartens, kept kosher, lit Shabbat candles, and celebrated the Jewish holidays. Michal also described her close relationship with her adoptive family.

In a 49-page judgment issued In February 2008, the High Rabbinic Court, headed by Rabbi Avraham Sherman, affirmed the 2007 decision of Rabbi Atiya of the Ashdod Rabbinic Court, and ruled that indeed there is "doubt" (safeq) regarding the Jewishness of Michal and her children and their fitness to marry, and therefore they should be registered in the list of those prohibited to marry until further examination of their Jewishness and fitness in the Regional Rabbinic Court. Fourteen additional pages of reasons written by Rabbinic Judge Hagai Izirer were published at a much later stage.

Comment: The High Rabbinic Court ruled that all of the conversions performed by Rabbi Druckman and Rabbi Avior since 1999 are invalid, and that marriage registrars have the authority to refuse to register a convert for marriage if he or she does not have a religious appearance. These rulings caused a public outcry in both secular and religious Zionist communities because they undermine the validity of the thousands of conversions in Israel and reflect the rabbinic court’s disdain for the Special Rabbinic Courts for Conversion, in general, and Rabbi Druckman, in particular.

The Shock
Michal and her family were in shock. Michal never imagined that her conversion could be annulled out of the blue. She never imagined that her children, who were raised as Jews in every respect, could be labeled non-Jews with one swift movement. They were Jews; they celebrated Shabbat and Jewish holidays, went to religious schools from pre-school, and conducted circumcision and pidyon ben (redemption of the first born son) and bar mitzvah ceremonies. Avi’s mother, a Holocaust survivor, was appalled at the thought that her grandchildren had suddenly become non-Jews. The family was stripped of its most basic identity as a Jewish family. In order to protect the children from the emotional whirlwind they were caught up in, Michal and Avidecided not to tell them about the ruling, although they clearly understood that when the time would come for them to marry, and they would be forced to learn that the State of Israel does not recognize them as Jews suitable to marry other Jews, they would need professional psychological advice. Michal drew strength from the public support that she received. Michal’s story even made headlines in her country of birth, where people were also angry. Many religious Zionist rabbis spoke out against the injustice done to Michal and her family as well as to Rabbi Druckman and his tribunal. The religious family who had “adopted” Michal during the conversion process and accompanied her throughout that process steadfastly supported her again. Moreover, the rabbis who perform conversions in the Special Rabbinic Court for Conversion argued strongly that there was no such thing as “annulment of a conversion” and that as far as they were concerned, Michal is Jewish in every way.

Comment: Despite of the outpouring of support from the religious-Zionist public, Michal understood that the rabbinic statements that “from our perspective she is a Jew in every way” does not hold much weight, and that changing the ruling was the only way to remover her name and her children’s names from the list of those "ineligible to marry" in the State of Israel.

Michal’s Petition to the High Court of Justice
In June 2008, CWJ filed a petition tothe High Court of Justice on behalf of Michal requesting to invalidate the ruling that repealed her conversion. Michal was represented by CWJ attorneys Susan Weiss and Yifat Frankenberg and Dr. Aviad HaCohen, a CWJ board member. They argued that the rabbinic courts had deviated from "natural justice" when they adjudicated matters that were not before them and that they acted beyond their authority when they made a determination in matters of conversion that were not within the purview of their jurisdiction. Many organizations joined the petition, including: Na’amat, WIZO, Ne’emanei Torah V’Avodah, Mavoi Satum, Emunah, Kolech, The Rackman Center for the Advancement of Women’s Status, Granit, Shvut Am and the Ohr Torah Stone Institutions.

In the first hearing in May 2009, the Legal Advisor to the rabbinic courts suggested that the problem could be resolved within the framework of the Regional Rabbinic Court which could repeal the annulment of Michal’s conversion. The Legal Advisor hinted that it would be possible to find a panel of judges in the rabbinic court that would determine that T’s conversion was valid. The justices sitting in the High Court of Justice also thought it preferable to go back and “take care of the matter in the rabbinic court.” The High Court set a date for a further hearing regarding the petition in one year's time, and ruled that until then, all parties should make efforts to arrive at a solution to the problem within the framework of the rabbinic court. For this reason, Michal and Avireturned to the rabbinic court for three more days of interrogation.

The Interrogation in the Tel Aviv District Court (Michal's Affidavit), June 2009- March 2010
Before the second hearing before the High Court of Justice, Michal submitted a letter to the court written in the form of an affidavit. In this affidavit, Michal summarized what had happened to her during the three hearings of the rabbinic court.

We have called Michal’s affidavit “The Interrogation”. It is included here verbatim, just as it was submitted to the High Court of Justice. All identifying details have been omitted.

During the hearing in the High Court of Justice that took place on May 18, 2009, Advocate Shimon Yaakobi, Legal Advisor to the Rabbinic Courts, suggested to the Honorable Justices of the High Court of Justice that the problem of the annulment of my conversion could be resolved in the framework of the regional rabbinic court. The Honorable Justice Dorit Beinisch recommended that my attorneys make an effort to resolve the proceeding before the rabbinic court.
On June 7, 2009, Rivkah Lubitch, a rabbinic court pleader from the Center for Women’s Justice who represents me (hereinafter: “the rabbinic court pleader”), filed a petition for me in the rabbinic court entitled: "Request for the Correction of Personal Status"#_edn4" name="_ednref4" title=""> …. All this was in accordance with the telephone instructions of the Legal Advisor to the Rabbinic Courts, Advocate Shimon Yaakobi. The motion filed by the rabbinic court pleader on May 25, 2009, is attached to this affidavit.#_edn5" name="_ednref5" title="">
Hearing on September 7, 2009 – Michal and A are Examined
On September 7, 2009, I arrived at the hearing set for 11:30 together with Avi [my ex-husband] and the rabbinic court pleader.
We waited for more than two hours in the hall of the rabbinic courts. Rabbi B. was available to receive us in his office, but we had to wait until two more rabbinic judges were available. Every time a rabbinic judge came to Rabbi B.’s office he left to go somewhere else before the third rabbinic judge arrived. The clerk apologized for the delay several times. In the end, although we had been summoned for 11:30, we waited until after the mincha [afternoon] prayer service [around 1:00].
Despite the long wait, the hearing began well. The three rabbinic judges cross-examined me at length. I was asked about my background, how I met Avi, my life prior to the conversion, my religious observance after the conversion, education of our children, kashrut, Shabbat, my immersion in the mikveh [ritual bath] for the purpose of the conversion, and more.
I told the rabbinic judges, among other things, that we observed Shabbat after my conversion; that we did not travel on Shabbat, that I lit Shabbat candles and that we went to synagogue. I told them that even now I build a sukkah on Sukkot and that our son was called up to the Torah on his bar mitzvah, which took place in the midst of the proceeding that involved the annulment of my conversion. I told them that during a lengthy period of time after the children were born I drove them to nursery school in …, which is a religious settlement, so that they would receive a religious education. I also told them that we have maintained a strong relationship with the adoptive family – the P.s - a religious family and that “the adoptive father” (hereinafter: “Mr. P.”) put up a mezuzah for me in the new business I opened.
I also told the rabbinic judges that it was hard for me to be immersed in the water in the mikveh [for my conversion] in a transparent robe in the presence of three rabbinic judges.
Afterwards, I was asked to leave the office and Aviwas brought into the office and examined. He was asked about how we met, about our living arrangements before the conversion, about the conversion process I went through, about his parents (their background and their religious level) about the changes in our life in the wake of the conversion, about our relationship with the adoptive family, and more.
The rabbinic court was happy to hear that we were still in close contact with the adoptive family that accompanied us during the period of study that had preceded the conversion, and decided to summon Mr. P. Rabbi B. said that there was no need to trouble both members of the “adoptive” couple to appear. It would be enough if the husband came.
Orally, Rabbi B. said that there was no need to trouble me to come to the hearing in which Mr. P. would appear. It was clear beyond any doubt that Avihad already finished his role in the testimony. It was agreed upon orally with Rabbi B. that the rabbinic court pleader and Mr. P. would come by themselves.
From all of these discussions and the atmosphere in the court, we had no doubt that the matter would soon be satisfactorily resolved.
The rabbinic court pleader was asked to send a proper motion with suggested dates that were convenient for her and for Mr. P. The rabbinic court asked the rabbinic court pleader to suggest dates on Tuesdays or Wednesdays, with a preference for Tuesdays.
The rabbinic court pleader submitted a motion on September 10, 2009, with a number of dates that were convenient for her and for Mr. P. up to the court recess.
In a telephone conversation that the pleader later received from the rabbinic court, it turned out that the dates that the rabbinic court pleader had suggested were not convenient for the rabbinic court. The rabbinic court pleader was asked to suggest other dates that fell [after the court recess], and on Tuesdays only.
On September 14, 2009, the rabbinic court pleader sent alternative dates.
The rabbinic court pleader was summoned, through a call to her cellular phone, to a hearing in the rabbinic court with Mr. P., set for October 20, 2009.
On October 19, 2009, a day before the hearing, the rabbinic court pleader notified me that I also had to appear at the hearing. According to her, in spite of the fact that Rabbi B. had told me orally that I did not have to come, Rabbi B. called her cellphone and said “there might be other rabbinic judges … maybe one of the rabbinic judges will want to ask her something after all …” and therefore it would be very worthwhile for me to come.
Even though I already had plans for that day (I was busy opening a new business), I canceled everything and came to the hearing on October 20, 2009 with the rabbinic court pleader and Mr. P.
The Hearing on October 20, 2009 – Michal and Mr. P are Examined
I came to the hearing on October 20, 2009 with Mr. P and the rabbinic court pleader. Like the previous time, we waited a long time for the hearing to begin.
To my surprise, when we went into Rabbi B.’s office, it turned out that the two rabbinic judges that were sitting with Rabbi B. were different from those who had sat with him at the previous session.
It was clear that not only did the new rabbinic judges not know me, they also were not familiar with the file, and had not studied the pleadings at all before the hearing (one of the rabbinic judges even told us this). I was again asked preliminary questions by the rabbinic judges about my conversion, the mikveh, my religious observance, Shabbat, Sukkot, education of the children, kashrut, etc.
Although I was angry at first that the examination was repetitious and I demonstrated some opposition, the rabbis explained to me that they have to hear everything from the beginning. Even the rabbinic court pleader complained about the repetition of the examination and suggested that the rabbinic judges refer to the previous transcript, but they noted that they needed to hear the testimony directly from me. The rabbinic court pleader calmed me down, and I answered all of the questions in an appropriate manner.
I told the rabbinic judges about my conversion curriculum and how we learned about holidays and religious observance, that I had a close relationship with my adoptive family and about my relationship with the wife of the rabbi who taught me for the conversion. I also told them that it had been difficult for me to go to the mikveh but that I had done so even after the conversion at least once – before the wedding.
To the rabbinic judges’ question “How do you define yourself today?” I answered that I don’t want to box myself into any one sector. I see myself as a Jewish woman. I again told them that to this day I light candles before Shabbat and that I [do not cook on the Shabbat] only cook before Shabbat, I don’t eat chametz on Passover and that I celebrate the holidays. Regarding kashrut, I said that we are vegetarians and therefore it’s not difficult for us to keep kosher. I again told the rabbinic judges that for a long time we drove our children to nursery schools in … at some distance from our home, so that they would receive a religious education.
I made it clear to the rabbinic judges that I left a religion and joined the Jewish people in order to be a Jew. This is my religion and I have no other religion. I did this against my parents’ wishes. I quarreled with my family in order to become a Jew. Only after my child was born did my parents accept the change that I had made and the relationship between us was renewed.
After this, Mr. P, was summoned into the rabbinic judges’ office and I was asked to leave the office. According to the rabbinic court pleader, Mr. P. was interrogated at length about his relationship with me both before and after the conversion, about my religious observance, about how he felt when my conversion was called into question, about my religious identity and about Avi’s religious identity. He said that we always observed Shabbat when we were guests in his home, and that the children received a religious education. He told them about the strong relationship between us and that he never saw me in immodest clothing.
Despite the fact that, as stated, I wasn’t happy about being examined a second time, the hearing was conducted in a positive manner and it was clear to everyone at the end that there would be no more deliberations and that we were just needed to wait for a written decision.
At the end of the hearing, the rabbinic court pleader asked the clerk to send her the transcript and decision from the hearing that had been held that day (October 10, 2009), as well as those of the previous hearing (from September 7, 2009). When the rabbinic court pleader received the transcripts in the mail, she was surprised to discover that the [names of the] two other rabbinic judges who had sat with Rabbi B. in the first hearing were expunged from the transcript as if they hadn’t been there at all. In effect, from the transcript from September 7, 2009, it appears as if Rabbi B. sat in the hearing by himself.#_edn6" name="_ednref6" title="">
At this stage we waited anxiously every day to receive the decision from the rabbinic court regarding my Jewishness and that of my children.
In the December 24, 2009 decision of the rabbinic court, which relates to the fact that my pleader stated that she had no further witnesses to bring, it was stated thus: “The woman [and her counsel] are making a fundamental mistake in terms of their understanding of the need for a hearing before this court. The Rabbinic Court cannot support a ruling that she is a proper convert just because she has a certificate of conversion recognized by the Chief Rabbinate.… Therefore, we must thoroughly investigate the matter, and since she has notified us that she has no further witnesses, it remains for us only to hear the testimony of her [former] husband … We are setting a date for …. The Petitioner must appear with Avi.
Since hearings in the matter [of my conversion] were being conducted in a manner less formal than ordinary hearings, we did not receive a standard summons in the mail for the first two hearings. We did not complain about this because we understood that my case was getting special treatment. #_edn7" name="_ednref7" title="">
Interrogationson March 15, 2010 – Michal and Aviare Examined
I came to the hearing on March 15, 2010, with Aviand with the rabbinic court pleader. As on previous occasions, we waited a long time, nervously, until we went in [to the courtroom].
This time as well, the rabbinic judges sitting with Rabbi B. had changed. One of the rabbinic judges was familiar from the first hearing (even though his name does not appear in the transcript), and the second rabbinic judge was completely new to the case.
The rabbinic court first had Avienter and I stayed outside. Aviwas examined at length, despite the fact that he had already been examined at the first hearing on September 7, 2009. Aviwas asked about his and my religious observance, the education of our children in religious institutions in the early years, our relationship with the adoptive family, etc.
After the rabbinic judges finished asking Aviquestions, he volunteered to tell them that we had held a pidyon ben for our eldest son. The rabbinic judges immediately started to examine Aviregarding details of the ceremony. They asked him on what day exactly we held the ceremony. The rabbinic judges asked Aviif the ceremony was before the brit milah, or after it. Afterwards they asked if the pidyon ben had been on the same day as the brit. Avi, who knows that a pidyon ben takes place on the thirtieth day, was upset by the rabbinic judges' questions and felt that he had failed the examination.
Afterwards, Aviwas asked to leave the office and I was asked to go in. I was examined again, for the third time in the regional rabbinic court, about my Jewishness. I was asked about observance of kashrut, about serving food and drinks on Shabbat, about how long after the conversion we continued to be religiously observant, etc.
This time the rabbinic judges focused on the question of how I ate hot food and how I drank coffee on Shabbat during the period of time after the conversion. They examined me about whether or not there was a hot plate to warm food on Shabbat, and if we had an appliance for hot water for Shabbat.
Despite the fact that it was clear that this was to have been the last hearing, at the end of the hearing the rabbinic judges remarked that it would be worthwhile to bring still another witness if we had one. When the rabbinic court pleader complained about the fact that the hearings were being dragged out and it was not clear how many witnesses we would have to bring, one of the rabbinic judges said: “It’s best if you bring as many witnesses as possible.”
Shortly after leaving the rabbinic court, the rabbinic court pleader told me that the rabbinic judges were looking for me and had asked her to phone me and to bring me back for a continuation of the examination. According to the rabbinic court pleader, the rabbinic judges wanted to clarify: “At what stage of the immersion for conversion (17 years ago) had the robe clung to Michal’s body and had she felt that it was immodest?” This, according to the rabbinic court pleader, was despite the fact that they didn’t believe that something immodest had occurred. The rabbinic court pleader explained to me that since I had told the rabbinic court that the immersion in the mikveh with a robe in the presence of the rabbinic judges had been very difficult for me and that I had felt immodest at this stage, and, as a result, I didn’t carefully observe the laws of family purity, the rabbis were now trying to clarify if this was a defect in my “acceptance of the commandments” at the time of the conversion. They therefore had to clarify precisely at which stage of the acceptance of the commandments the robe had clung to me. The rabbinic court pleader, who had not managed to reach me on the phone, explained to the rabbinic judges that I had not made any clear decision at this stage of the conversion not to go to the mikveh and not to observe the laws of family purity. As evidence of this she noted that I had indeed immersed before my wedding and that a declaration of this fact appears in one of the transcripts. When the rabbinic judges expressed doubt as to this, the rabbinic court pleader showed them that I had been explicitly asked this question in one of the previous hearings and that I said that I had immersed in the mikveh before my wedding.

Exhaustion and humiliation as a result of the interrogation
The interrogation of the rabbinic court not only exhausted Aviand me, but also demeaned me.
I hereby declare: More than 17 years ago I made a decision that the people of Israel are my people, the Land of Israel is my land, and Judaism is my religion. I studied at length for my conversion, I completely changed my life, I paid a heavy price for this in the severance of relations with my family, I underwent immersion in a mikveh for the purpose of conversion through a recognized and proper rabbinic court in Israel, and I married Aviaccording to Jewish law. We have raised our children as proud Jews and Israelis.
I never imagined that I would be at the point where I would be asked such intimate questions regarding my life while the threat of eradicating my basic identity as a Jew looms in the background.
The tremendous injury is not only to me, a righteous convert [who has converted of her free will and desire], but also to my former husband, his parents and my children. Avi’s mother is a Holocaust survivor and I can’t even describe the distress she feels from all of this. Unfortunately, even though we decided to protect our children and to keep secret the fact that my conversion and their Judaism were being held up to scrutiny and question, it became known to them and now they are also upset, and feel degraded and shamed. We will have to take care of the children with the help of professionals.

What’s Next: From Michal to You
In September 2010, the Tel Aviv Rabbinic Court held that Michal and her children are Jewish. With this declaration, the story may be over for Michal and her children, but the question still remains whether the Rabbinic Courts had any jurisdiction to hear this question in the first instance, and whether Jewish law allows for this type of interrogation at all.

CWJ has petitioned the High Court of Justice to rule on the question of jurisdiction. We call on our religious leaders to take a clear position on the question of whether the converts can be interrogated about their religious observances years after their conversion. It is CWJ's position that this practice is against halakha and should be prohibited.

All told, Michal was interrogated by Israeli Rabbinic Courts five times in the process of having her conversion revoked and then reinstated. The last three interrogations were before the regional rabbinic court that reheard the case as per the request of the High Court of Justice, a panel considered to be “moderate and accommodating,” and under the supervisory eyes of the High Court of Justice that followed Michal's story closely. It was only due to the proactive involvement of CWJ that Michal was able to become a Jew again, her children removed from the rabbinic “blacklist” and allowed to marry Jews in the State of Israel.

Michal’s story highlights the troubling reality of conversion in Israel. Conversion is not currently regulated by law, and current practices are subject to whim and personal politics of rabbinical court judges. The interrogation was allowed to take place because nobody in the State of Israel said otherwise. The dignity and rights of converts are left hanging, not protected by the law or by society.

There is no conversion law in Israel. On July 27, 1997 the Prime Ministers office set up a special committee – the Neeman Commission – to make recommendations about how conversions would take place within the borders of the State of Israel. In 2002, the committee recommended that the Chief Rabbinate take responsibility for setting up Special Conversion Courts to process conversions in the State of Israel. Rabbi Hayim Druckman was appointed to head these conversion courts. The committee expressly stated that the purpose of setting up these Special Conversion Courts was to facilitate conversions and to find a common denominator among the different streams of Judaism that would unite the citizens of Israel on the question "Who is a Jew?", inspire cooperation, and prevent divisiveness. The committee expressly stated that these batei din would not have jurisdiction in the same way that the rabbinic courts had jurisdiction to adjudicate matters in accordance with the Law of Rabbinic Judges – 1955.#_edn8" name="_ednref8" title="">

As the Special Conversion Courts have expanded and grown, the Rabbinic Courts that oversee Jewish marriages and divorces in the state have begun to question the way that the Conversion Courts operate. The more established rabbinic courts of law did not approve of the standards being set by the Special Conversion Courts and began showing an interest in taking control over them. They felt that the Conversion Courts should hold converts to a higher standard. And that is exactly what they decided to do when Michal and Avi appeared before them.

In 2006, the Chief Rabbinate used its broad discretionary powers as the Head of the Jewish Millet (religious community) to issue "Rules Regarding Petitions for Conversion" which included a section (16) that would allow for the revocation of conversions under "special circumstances." These rules were not passed by the Knesset.

CWJ promotes the following policies:

No halakhic basis to repeal conversions. Irrespective of the jurisdictional issues, CWJ is of the opinion that there is no halakhic basis for repealing conversions. (See sources below.)
No jurisdiction to repeal conversions. It is CWJ's contention that Rabbinic Courts have no jurisdiction under Israeli law to question converts about their religious behaviors as part of an uncontested divorce. The High Court's deferral to the Regional Rabbinic Courts to rehear the status of Michal's conversion ironically facilitated the very act that we claim they do not have jurisdiction to undertake, namely, the interrogation of individuals regarding acts of faith subsequent to their conversion. Thus, the High Court, in it’s referral of the case back to the Regional Rabbinic Court has in actuality allowed for the expansion of the Rabbinic Courts' jurisdiction and the creeping annexation of its control over conversions.
No, to government interference with private religious beliefs. By allowing for the interrogation of converts regarding their religious practices, the state is allowing its courts to infringe on and interfere with the private religious practices and beliefs of its citizens. What’s more, the courts are applying insular ideologies as criteria for this interrogation, ideologies which are not necessarily accepted by the majority of the Jewish people
Yes, to privatization.The state must privatize the beit din systemby removing it from the state supported governmental apparatuses. It has become increasingly clear to us at CWJ that religion and the state cannot be intertwined in ways that allow for the gross infringement on the liberties and freedoms of individuals. By interrogating converts as to their religious practices, Courts are infringing on the liberties of convert's beliefs and action, and holding them to criteria that Jews who are not converts would not be held. We postulate that Rabbinic Courts should be conducted as private non-governmental entities to be used voluntarily by those who wish to be under their supervision. State sponsored civil courts must be established which have sole jurisdiction over questions of personal status (marriage and divorce)
Wake-up call.The interrogation of the convert Michal by state-funded judges should signal a wake-up call to the citizens of Israel. Let us not allow interrogation of convert Michal to become the lot of all converts, or all Jews, or all citizens.

Questions for Discussion
Where in this procedure do you think that the judges overstepped their bounds?
What do you think Michal and her children feel towards the State of Israel today?
What would you feel about Judaism if you were in the position of a convert being interrogated?
How do you think the Jewish responsibility to be kind to the convert should be enacted in practice?
Do you think judges should have the right to ask converts about their religious observance?
Do you think religious judges should be allowed to revoke conversions?
What kind of legislation should the State of Israel promote on the issue of conversion?
What apparatus should be in place in Israel to regulate the actions and authority of the rabbinical courts?

Some Rabbinic Sources

(1) Conversion can never be revoked, even among proselytes who are heretics.

“A man who immersed and emerged is an Israelite for all things. What halakhot is this relevant for? If he reverted and betrothed a daughter of Israel, we call him ‘Israel heretic’ and his betrothal is a valid betrothal.” (Babylonian Talmud, Yevamot 47a).

"A proselyte who was not examined [as to his motives] or who was not informed of the mitzvoth and their punishments, and he was circumcised and immersed in the presence of three laymen-is a proselyte. Even if it is known that he converted for some ulterior motive, once he has been circumcised and immersed he has left the status of being a non-Jew and we suspect him until his righteousness is clarified. Even if he recanted and worshipped idols, he is [considered] a Jewish apostate; if he betroths a Jewish woman according to halakha, they are betrothed; and an article he lost must be returned to him as to any other Jew. Having immersed, he is a Jew." (Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Holiness, Laws of Forbidden Sexual Relations, Chapter 13, Law 17).

(2) Converts should never be asked about their past.

“One does not remind a convert of his past status and actions, and one does not take a convert’s dignity lightly. (Mechilta Mishpatim 18; Baba Metzia 59, 4; Rambam Deot 6;4. Sefer Hahinuch, 431, among others).”

(3) Converts should not be taunted.:

“What is the meaning of the verse, Thou shalt neither wrong a stranger, nor oppress him; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt? It has been taught: R. Nathan said: Do not taunt your neighbor with the blemish you yourself have. And thus the proverb runs: If there is a case of hanging in a man's family record, say not to him, ’Hang this fish up for me.'” (Babylonian Talmud, Baba Metzia 59b)

References and Links
Rabbi Marc D. Angel, “Conversion to Judaism: Halakha, Hashkafa, and Historic Challenge”. Jewish Ideas. Posted January 5, 2009. http://www.jewishideas.org/min-hamuvhar/conversion-judaism-halakha-hash…

Rabbi Marc D. Angel, Choosing to Be Jewish: The Orthodox Road to Conversion, (Ktav Publishing House, Jersey City, 2005).

Conversion to Judaism Resource Center: www.convert.org, www.convertingtojudaism.com.

Charles DeLafuente, “The Call to the Torah, Now Heeded Online,” New York Times, July 1, 2004

“Geirus Policies and Standards that will Govern The Network of Regional Batei Din for Conversion under the auspices of The Rabbinical Council of America and The Beth Din of America and in accordance with the Agreement Arrived at with The Chief Rabbinate of Israel” April 30th 2007 http://www.rabbis.org/documents/Comprehensive%20and%20Final%20Geirus%20…

Simcha Kling, Embracing Judaism, (Rabbinical Assembly, 1999).

Maurice Lamm, Becoming a Jew, (Jonathan David, 1991).

Norman Lamm, “Seventy Faces: Divided we stand, but its time to try an idea that might help us stand taller”, Moment Vol. II, No. 6, June 1986 – Sivan 5746.

Neeman Committee Recommendations (2002). http://www.knesset.gov.il/docs/heb/neeman.htm Walzer, Michael. (1997). On Toleration. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

“News: The rabbinical court has the authority to revoke conversions”, Kikar Shabbat. http://www.kikarhashabat.co.il/23631.html 23/12/09.

Lena Romanoff with Lisa Hostein. Your People, My People: Finding Acceptance and Fulfillment as a Jew by Choice (Jewish Publication Society, 1990).

Avi Sagi and Zvi Zohar, Transforming Identity, Continuum Press, (London and New York, 2007). (Original Hebrew, Giyyur ve-Zehut Yehudit, Shalom Hartman Institute and Mosad Bialik, Jerusalem, 1997).

Saul Singer, “Interesting Times: Judaism is not a race”, Jerusalem Post, October 25, 2007.

For more information, or to find out how you can get involved, contact:

The Center for Women’s Justice

43 Emek Refaim St.

Jerusalem 93141

972-2-5664390 (tel.)

972-2-5663317 (fax)

www.cwj.org.il

[email protected]

#_ednref1" name="_edn1" title=""> Names of the parties involved have been disguised to protect their privacy. We chose the initial “X” to represent the convert because it symbolizes the obliteration of her entire identity by the rabbinic court.

#_ednref2" name="_edn2" title="">
#_ednref3" name="_edn3" title=""> Every potential convert is assigned a family with whom they visit on Shabbat and holidays and that helps with the conversion process and teaches them Judaism in practice.

#_ednref4" name="_edn4" title=""> Note that there is no respondent to this motion. It is not an adversarial proceeding in the ordinary sense.

#_ednref5" name="_edn5" title=""> Items 2-7 refer to technicalities in the court proceedings

#_ednref6" name="_edn6" title=""> Items 34-40 refer to technicalities in the proceedings.

#_ednref7" name="_edn7" title=""> Items 43-48 refer to technicalities in the proceedings.

#_ednref8" name="_edn8" title=""> http://www.knesset.gov.il/docs/heb/neeman.htm

The term “Modern Orthodoxy” is a broad label applied to a wide spectrum of religious observance and a variety of philosophical stances. Yet despite this inclusivity, Modern Orthodoxy currently finds itself at a crossroads in which its borders and central message are being reconsidered and redefined. Leaders are reexamining the boundaries of what is deemed permissible by halakha in realms such as conversion, kashruth, and rabbinic ordination. Furthermore, both clergy and laypeople alike are looking for innovative ways to re-imagine Modern Orthodoxy from the inside through new approaches to prayer and spirituality, while at the same time maintaining their scholarly commitment. My purpose in writing this article is relatively simple: I hope to spark an ongoing conversation that focuses upon the question of how Jewish mysticism may aid in revitalizing Modern Orthodoxy. Or, to reframe the question in terms of a hypothesis: Although facets of the classical Jewish philosophical tradition have already been chosen as a banner for the re-invigoration of contemporary Orthodoxy, I intend to demonstrate that our kabbalistic and mystical literature will be an equally rich source for this process of intellectual and spiritual rebirth.

It cannot easily be denied that an overwhelming number of the great Jewish spiritual leaders of the twentieth century have used mystical thought in their quest to make religious life meaningful for a modern Jewish community. Among these are influential traditional thinkers such as Abraham Isaac Kook, Hillel Zeitlin, and Menachem Mendel Schneerson, as well as Shlomo Carlebach, Michael Fishbane, and Abraham Joshua Heschel. The broad list includes many leaders outside of the Orthodox world as well, for other Jewish movements have also embraced mystical ideas as a compelling and additive component of modern religious thought. More liberal thinkers such as Zalman Schachter-Shalomi and Arthur Green have sought to bring the study of mysticism to the front of a vibrant contemporary Jewish theology. Over the past hundred years leaders across nearly all sectors of modern Jewish life have promoted Kabbalah to the foreground as a potent catalyst for spiritual renewal.

Despite this increase in popularity, Kabbalah has a somewhat besmirched and Janus-faced reputation. On one hand, many contend even now that Kabbalah is intellectually flaccid, conceptually irresponsible, and even quite dangerous to conventional notions of God and Torah. Kabbalah’s prominent position is undoubtedly in some part due to an approach favored by some contemporary institutions that warp the tradition by de-contextualizing its teachings and projecting them through a business model using post-modern philosophy. These facile portrayals of mysticism should not be conflated with the authentic Kabbalah as taught by the traditional leaders mentioned above.

There is no reason to assume that immersion in Kabbalah necessarily makes one more likely drift into antinomianism and heresy. While it is true that some Jewish mystics such as the infamous Shabbatai Tzvi have indeed done so, a great number of our outstanding talmudists and halakhic commentators—from Ramban to the Vilna Gaon—were undeniably steeped in the language of Kabbalah as well. Surely for them mysticism and law were not two competitive modes of thought, with the latter precipitously seeking to mitigate the anarchical hazards of the former. In their eyes halakha and Kabbalah were fused in an organic and complementary system that simultaneously ensures ritual observance while promoting spiritual engagement. Indeed, mystical texts often display a strong legal conservatism, and their authors are so preoccupied with cultivating inner piety by providing halakhawith infinitely deeper shades of meaning. Kabbalah is only truly dangerous when heedlessly removed from the framework of tradition.

On the other hand, Jewish mysticism is sometimes criticized for being xenophobic, or esoteric to the point of obscurity. However, nuanced and careful readings of mystical texts will prove that much of Kabbalah’s wisdom is neither arcane nor antiquated, but must simply be framed in such a way that allows it to be a relevant resource for contemporary Jewish thought. Another often-levied charge against the study of mysticism is that although Kabbalah is true and authentic (at least in some way), we are a generation of such low stature that we lack the spiritual fortitude, and even the permission, to involve ourselves with its ideas. I believe that we who straddle the worlds of modernity and tradition cannot afford to maintain this position, for it will totally preclude drawing religious inspiration from any part of our mystical tradition. In sum, regardless of the accusations of its detractors, the study of Kabbalah may indeed be a potent force in the revitalization of Modern Orthodoxy, for it will only foster rigorous intellectual engagement, further strengthen traditional halakhic commitment, and profoundly broaden our own religious experience.

The Mandate for Intellectual Creativity

Modern Orthodoxy historically has prided itself on demanding a relatively high level of intellectual engagement of its adherents. In order to retain the vibrancy of this tradition, we must continue to originate new works of scholarship that are both spiritually meaningful and intellectually compelling. If this creative flexibility and openness is not sustained, even Modern Orthodoxy will not remain immune from lapsing into blind reliance upon routinized dogma. An ossified and formulaic ideology will not captivate the minds and hearts of the next generation, nor will it strengthen their resolve to commit themselves to a system of life founded in observance of halakha and mitzvoth while surrounded by a society that does not require this of them a priori. We must not only reiterate the wisdom of the sages who came before us, but continuously seek new ways to refine and rearticulate our intellectual heritage in a manner that speaks to our own contemporary experience.

Kabbalistic literature demonstrates a bold interpretive approach that is intrinsically creative. The mystical exegete has license to break open scriptural texts and recombine them in such a way that they reveal new religious messages, a method very much akin to that of the ancient ba’alei haMidrash. Verses are scrutinized on a microcosmic level for the tiniest inconsistency or ambiguity, which the kabbalist then uses to elucidate a point regarding a spiritual truth that may be either cosmic or personal. The paradigm of scriptural interpretation qua dramatic act of innovation is repeatedly exemplified in Sefer haZohar, the foundational text of Jewish mysticism. As the chronicle unfolds, R. Shimon bar Yohai and his compatriots interpret verse after verse in the manner mentioned above, and through their homilies it becomes clear that they believe all existence is sustained through the efforts of the talmidei hakhamim who ceaselessly engage in Torah study. However, in order to re-infuse the world with vitality, their learning cannot be simple repetition or rote memorization of preexisting texts or concepts. Scholars must rather constantly offer fresh and dynamic interpretations of biblical passages. The Zohar even expresses creative engagement with Torah as the ultimate act of imitatio dei: God’s creation of the world through speech is mirrored by a scholar’s innovative exegesis of the words of the divine text.[i][DEA1]

The early Hassidic masters were also keenly attuned to this need for constant and creative reengagement with the traditional corpus. Their teachings are vibrant and daring, and perhaps even more importantly, their interpretive process itself often demonstrates the supple flexibility with which they treat our textual canon. Early Hassidic works generally present multiple, and at times even contradictory, explanations for the same verse, each one of them targeted to articulate a unique spiritual point. In this exegetical method, and in the teachings generated through it, the overarching rule is clear: There exists an unending obligation for individuals to constantly plumb the depths of Torah and bring out ideas that have hitherto remained unexpressed, and that address the particular needs of that generation. We shall find this mandate for interpretive innovation clearly elucidated in the following passage from Degel Mahaneh Ephraim, an important collection of homilies attributed to the R. Moshe Haim Ephraim of Sudilkov (d. 1800):[ii]

“This is the book of the descendents of man.”[iii] Let us begin with what I have said about the verse “Moses diligently inquired about the goat of the sin-offering.”[iv] There is a tradition that “diligently inquired” (darosh darash) is the halfway point in the words of the Torah,[v] but the significance of this is not yet clear.

In answer we can say that the Written Torah and the Oral Torah are one, as is known. They are totally indivisible from each other, for one cannot exist without the other.  This means that the Written Torah reveals its hidden mysteries through the Oral Torah; the Written Torah without the Oral Torah is incomplete. It was only half of a book until the Sages came and expounded (darshu) the Torah and revealed things that had previously been sealed. At times they even uprooted something in the Torah, as in the case of lashes, where the Torah assigns the number forty but the Sages subtracted one.[vi]  All of this was made possible because of their divine inspiration, which gave them the ability [to interpret it in this manner]. The completion of the Written Torah depends entirely on the Oral Torah.  Therefore one who denies that the principle kal veHomer is from the Torah, or disagrees with a statement of the Sages is like one who denies the Torah of Moses itself.[vii] All depends on the interpretations (derashot) of the Sages, and they are the essence of the completion of the Torah …

… and so it must be in every age that the interpreters complete the Torah, for the Torah is expounded in each generation corresponding to the needs of that particular time, according to the root of the soul of that generation. The Blessed One will enlighten the eyes of the sages of the generation with His holy Torah, and one who denies this is also likened to one who repudiates the Torah.

The nature of the “descendents” mentioned in the original verse, although not explicitly identified in this passage, is unmistakable: they are the novel reinterpretations brought forth in each generation. It is our obligation to complete the Torah anew in every age by means of our creative engagement with the text, and the R. Moshe Haim Ephraim demands that the sages of each and every age make the biblical text eternally relevant through their innovative interpretations. In other words, they must offer some sort of new spiritual message that speaks to each generation beyond the strictures of its literal interpretation. This creativity is the lasting intellectual progeny of mankind, which complements and even completes the Divine component of our inherited wisdom.

As if to preempt the assumption that we share the same unlimited freedom as the early Sages, he cautions us against this by condemning any and all dissent from their rulings. Creative interpretations of Torah are necessary, but they do have limits. However, he levies this warning against the other extreme as well, saying that one who challenges the need for reinterpretation and the authority of each new generation is equally guilty of denying the validity of Torah itself. It is clear that a balance must be struck between these poles, but if we becomes paralyzed with fear and refuse to reinterpret the Torah, our reticence will prevent us from fulfilling what R. Moshe Haim Ephraim argues is among the central precepts of our faith.

            Recognizing this approach to interpretation will be essential for Modern Orthodoxy in the years to come, since it will allow us to respond with great flexibility to the challenges of modernity, searching within our canon for ways to rearticulate its core ideas in a manner both intelligible and relevant to our lives. Furthermore, this passage does not suggest that we simply have the freedom to reexamine if, and only if, the spirit so moves us. Rather, it spells out an unceasing obligation that demands that we maximize our creative potential by constantly reinterpreting the Torah in a manner that is specifically applicable to our day.

The Question of Gender

It is clear that the question of gender roles will remain a central issue for Modern Orthodoxy in the coming decades. The recent controversies over new possibilities in female religious leadership only confirm this fact. Noting this, I submit that the literature of our mystical tradition has much wisdom to bring to the discussion as well. There are important trends in Kabbalah that present a finely balanced approach to the relationship between male and female, in both cosmic/symbolic and personal/physical terms. This fact should not be overshadowed by other mystical elements that display pre-modern conceptions of gender bordering on what we might today call misogyny, for such a pejorative reading would be obtusely anachronistic. Furthermore, these same ideas are found within core rabbinic and halakhic literature as well, and they must equally be dealt with by any member of Modern Orthodoxy committed to our textual canon. In the following example, taken from the Hasidic classic Avodat Yisrael by the Maggid of Kozhnitz (d. 1814), we shall see that mystical texts may indeed have salient voice in the reexamining of gender roles as Modern Orthodoxy continues to evolve:[viii]

There are times when a woman has no desire to adorn herself and unite with her beloved.  And yet, because of her profound understanding of her husband and her deep longing to bring him happiness, she dresses herself up and smiles at him, to the extent that it seems to him as if she is beckoning. Her true intention in this is not for herself, but rather to gladden the heart of her husband.

In these moments she feels awful and upset on account of some external difficulties or frustrating events. If only her husband understood the entirety of what lies within her heart and the greatness of the love hidden within her bosom, demonstrated in concealing her anguish and resolving to bring happiness to her husband. Certainly because of this, his love for her will be increased a thousand times! If it were within his power to put all to right and sweep away her suffering and the worries of her soul, in an instant her husband would do all that he could.

The same dynamic holds true with Keneset Yisrael and her Beloved. If she suffers for any reason, or is afflicted by some evil decree, she nonetheless gathers her strength and adorns herself, doing what her Husband asks of her by rejoicing with him on Shabbat and holidays, and during the time of prayer or the performance of a mitzvah. When the blessed Creator, who knows and understands all thoughts, sees that she has turned aside from the sorrows of her heart, His love burns within Him like the pillars of fire. He understands the embitterment of her soul, and is infinitely capable of triumphing over and subduing all of her enemies. This is the meaning of: “Who is a proper woman? The one does the will of her husband!”[ix] In other words, she brings the will of her Husband into reality.

This passage rearticulates familiar categories of male and female in a tremendously innovative way, suggesting a conception of gender in which the relationship between the two is nuanced, balanced, and in many ways equal. While there are other excurses within kabbalistic literature that invert or challenge notions of gender more fundamentally, I have nevertheless selected this text precisely because it does invoke traditional imagery to convey a spiritual message of both personal and national relevance. It will be impossible for Modern Orthodoxy to fully shed the gender distinctions codified by our rabbinic heritage, and although sufficient reinterpretation will allow women an increasingly active role in public religious life, completely eradicating the differences between male and female would run contrary to how Modern Orthodoxy understands its connection to tradition. This excerpt thus demonstrates a way in which traditional allegories may be reread in such a way that they speak to our present generation. 

The passage is interesting because of its implicit approach to reading rabbinic texts as well as its explicit content. The Maggid of Kozhnitz has presented us with a brilliant reinterpretation of a dictum that seems to praise women for pure obedience. He universalizes and expands the phrase away from its literal meaning by invoking the well-known allegory of man and wife as stand-in for the relationship between God and Israel, thereby reading the original statement against the grain. The power dynamic between male and female has still not been completely leveled, since it is the husband alone who seems capable of easing the sorrows of his wife. However, the radical core of the Maggid’s teaching only becomes truly clear from the model relationship in the final lines: through her reflexive ability to overcome her own grief and then take active steps to reconnect to her beloved, “a female” (which after the metaphor cannot refer only to physical woman) is able to spark her “husband” (which must also be understood non-literally) into realizing his potential love and compassion. The reader is left with the conclusion that any relationship, both bein adam leHaveiro and bein adam laMakom, of real depth and lasting connection demands of one an extraordinarily high degree of selflessness.

It is not impossible to view even the Maggid’s reading of the text as another negatively charged expression of passive power, in which the female is forced by her lack of agency to use coercion in order to accomplish her desires. Yet had he wished to convey this, the author would simply have stayed much closer to the original midrashic statement. I would argue that the thrust of the Maggid’s message, as well his innovative exegetical maneuver, represent a manner of forging a new conception of gender in which old categories are retained, but the nature of the dynamic between the two has been creatively updated and entirely reframed.

The Wisdom of Hakhamei Sepharad

            Revisiting the kabbalistic tradition as a source for contemporary spiritual renewal will also help to broaden the intellectual spectrum of Modern Orthodoxy by including and reintroducing forgotten works of Sephardic sages. Books of non-Ashkenazi provenance do enjoy a higher status within Modern Orthodox circles than they do in the Hareidi world, which to a large degree has continued the tradition of Eastern European yeshivot that decries the study of any non-halakhic texts altogether (both Sephardic and Ashkenazi alike). However, it is my contention that much of the vast literature of the Sephardim, and especially those works which deal explicitly with kabbalastic themes, has been quite underrepresented in the general Modern Orthodox canon. Though the legal works of such classical Iberian Rishonim as the Ramban, Rashba, Ritva, Ran, and the great Rambam are accorded a high degree honor, the insightful and variegated treatises of a great many other important Sephardic authorities continue to lie fallow.

Within this oft-overlooked corpus I would include the works of R. Meir ibn Gabbai, Moshe Alsheikh, Haim Yosef David Azulai (the Hida), and Hakham Yosef Haim (the Ben Ish Hai), to name only a few. All of these important writers and leaders are united by their central focus on Kabbalah as a meaningful and spiritually powerful system of religious experience and discourse, and I suggest that the seeds for spiritual revitalization may yet be found within their fertile yet neglected pages. Let us turn to a selection from Ibn Gabbai’s sixteenth-century magnum opus Avodat haKodesh to illustrate this point:[x]

The highest wisdom [the sophia of God, which is the second sefirah] contains as the foundation of all emanations pouring forth out of the hidden Eden the true fountain from which the Written and the Oral Torah emanate and are impressed [upon the forms of the celestial letters and signatures]. This fountain is never interrupted; it gushes forth in constant production. Were it to be interrupted for even a moment, all creatures would sink back into their non being … that great voice sounds forth without interruption; it calls with the eternal duration that is its nature; whatever the prophets and scholars of all generations have taught, proclaimed, and produced, they have received precisely out of that voice which never ceases, in which regulations, determinations, and decisions are implicitly contained, as well as everything new that may ever be said in any future. In all generations, these men stand in the same relationship to that voice as a trumpet to the mouth of a man who blows into it and brings forth a sound. In that process, there is no production from their own sense and understanding. Instead, they bring out of potentiality that which they received from that voice when they stood at Sinai.

This text provides a more nuanced counterpoint to the broad interpretive dynamism found in the passage from Degel Mahaneh Ephraim. Like his Hasidic counterpart who was to write nearly four centuries later, Ibn Gabbai declares that interpretation of Torah is no stagnant act of dry repetition, but a flexible process that remains necessarily fluid because the Torah itself is constantly evolving. However, Ibn Gabbai carefully qualifies this seemingly unbounded interpretive license by explaining that a talmid hakham is not the originator of even the most innovative reapplications of Torah, since all interpretation has its source in an all-encompassing but unarticulated potential revealed at Sinai. The role of scholars across generations is rather to select which of these teachings must be actualized at any given moment. In other words, it is our task to reify, not to invent ex nihilo.

Despite relocating the origin of all interpretive innovation back to the Divine, Ibn Gabbai is not arguing a conservative position in which creative exegesis is forbidden.  Human scholars have a clear responsibility to reengage with the ever-expanding font of Torah and breathe new life into it by rearticulating its teachings in a perpetually relevant manner. His qualification that all later interpretation has its source in God’s revelation therefore does not preclude our efforts at innovation, but rather reinforces our gift (and perhaps even mandate) of creative license: the boundaries of authoritative interpretation have been greatly expanded to include even novel ideas not explicitly included amongst the traditions specifically enumerated at Sinai.

The Gift of Religious Language

Fostering spirituality is another prominent concern of Modern Orthodoxy. While this particular mode of religious thought is not necessary (or even compelling) for all, I believe that imbuing the next generation with a strong sense of traditional spirituality is now essential for ensuring the continuity of Modern Orthodoxy. Gentile philosophy is no longer the greatest menace to religious commitment, as it was in the first half of the twentieth-century. The newest existential threat facing Modern Orthodoxy is that ours is a generation of individualistic seekers driven to find personal spiritual expression in their religious lives. Without the flexibility to do this within the pale of Orthodox Judaism, these individuals will necessarily explore options outside the framework of our tradition.

Kabbalistic writings can give us an authentic Jewish spiritual vocabulary for articulating an entire type of religious awareness with God that simply cannot be adequately expressed in halakhic terminology. These mystical texts often delve into the personal spiritual experience of individuals who sought to articulate an extra-legal experience of the Divine, grappling with the almost impossible task of siphoning their encounter into the written word, and drawing upon these works will certainly enrich our own ability to discuss this rather sublime kind of piety. Examining the following excerpt from the Zohar, and a medieval commentary that builds upon the ideas within it, will be helpful in illustrating this point:

Rabbi Yehuda opened: “Her husband is known throughout the gates, as he sits among the elders of the Land.”[xi] Come and see! The Holy Blessed One withdrew in His glory, for He is hidden away and sealed far above. No one who has since entered the world, nor anyone who has been here since the day of its creation, is able to grasp His wisdom; no one is able to comprehend Him.

Since He is hidden and sealed away, and He withdrew higher and higher, none of those above or below are able to cleave to him, until they say: “Blessed is the Glory of the Lord from His place.”[xii] The ones below say that he is above, as it is written: “His glory is upon the heavens.”[xiii] The ones above say that he is below, as it is written: “Your glory is upon the entire earth.”[xiv] Until all those who are above and below say: “Blessed is the Glory of the Lord from His place.” He is unknown, and there are none able to grasp Him, and yet you say, “Her Husband is known throughout the gates”?!

Certainly “Her Husband is known throughout the gates (she’arim)!” This refers to the Holy Blessed One, for He is known and may be cleaved to according to the extent that one imagines (mesha’er) Him within the heart, each according to his ability to cleave to the spirit of wisdom. He is known in the heart to the extent that He is imagined there. In this way “He is known throughout the gates” - in these contemplative reflections. Yet for Him to be known as is fitting [is impossible]—nobody is able to cleave to Him or to know Him.[xv]

In his monumental commentary to the Zohar entitled Ketem Paz, R. Shimon ibn Lavi (North Africa, sixteenth century) explores the implications, both cosmological and personal, of this remarkable passage:

Rabbi Yehuda explains that no being has ever been created that is able to understand His wisdom, nor did the Holy Blessed One ever bring such a one into this world. Certainly not one who is able to grasp His essence! He is deep beyond all depth, and who is able to find Him? [Succeeding in] the quest for Him is impossible for the created beings, both upper and lower, until all exclaim, “Blessed is the glory of the Lord from His place!” …

… Perhaps Rabbi Yehuda holds that their quest spurs onward the movement of all the heavenly arrays, cycling around and around. To seek and never apprehend seems to the creations like utter foolishness, as one who says that if the intent of their rotation was [solely] to succeed, after the first or the second time that they are unable reach it they will believe that the quest will always be in vain.

 Yet those who truly experience longing never refrain from the search even if they do not succeed. This is like the desire of the lover for her Beloved, as it says, “I will arise and circle about, in the town, in the markets and the streets. I shall seek the One whom my soul loves; I have searched and not found.”[xvi] Notice that the verse speaks in future tense, “I shall arise and circle about … I shall seek” - this means that she will not hold back from the seeking Him, for the journey is her life.Such is the longing of the supernal beings and their eternal search, for it is their sustenance and their very existence. Even if they cannot succeed in apprehending Him, through their quest itself [to gaze upon] the face of the Master they offer praise, greatness and glory to the One for whom they searching. He is [the source of] their existence, and that of all the created beings below.

In explaining this matter well, one may raise the question: if it is not within the power of any who seek God to comprehend even His place, how then could Solomon, who was the seeker and the quester par excellence, as well as the wisest of all men, write “Her husband is known throughout the gates” about the Woman of Valor, who alludes to the upper Assembly of Israel? Rather, certainly “Her Husband is known throughout the gates (she’arim)!” This refers to the Holy Blessed One, for He is known and may be cleaved to according to the extent that one imagines (mesha’er) Him within the heart. One must say that although achieving [the quest] is inherently withheld from them, He can indeed be comprehended by His creations, each according to their understanding and contemplative imagining of Him.[xvii]                

The text of the Zohar is struggling with the seeming contraction between a scriptural verse and our own religious experience. When read in the symbolic manner of the Zohar, Proverbs 31:23 implies that an imminent God (the divine Husband) may be known and understood, but in reality all of creation encounters Him only as a transcendent Being completely removed from the worlds He has formed. Even the angels are unable to find Him or grasp His magnitude. In an attempt to solve this paradox, Rabbi Yehuda explains that while God cannot be restricted to a specific location, He may be known through (and only through) our mystical contemplation and reflection.

This Zoharic passage is a relatively clear articulation of our inability to comprehend the divine. In his commentary to our text, however, R. Shimon ibn Lavi deepens R. Yehuda’s homily by explaining that it is this permanent and eternal quest to apprehend God that sustains the universe. The endless journey is only possible because of the aforementioned paradox, since if we were truly able to grasp God, the search would immediately terminate and creation would lose its source of constant renewal. Yet neither are we allowed to desist from the journey to find Him simply because it can never be successfully completed; the greatest of value lies in the perpetual quest itself. A profound message of cosmic significance about the personal religious experience of a mystic search for God has thus been built upon an ostensible paradox between a biblical verse that suggests divine immanence, and the experiential truth of His total transcendence.

Without becoming too embroiled in the discussion of the relationship between linguistics and cognition, it is even possible that the very absence of such mystical language effectively precludes many spiritual experiences ab initio. More specifically, the inability to articulate or describe a particular concept in words may mean that one simply cannot experience it. If access to authentic Jewish mysticism is denied to those individuals who do not view halakhic study and philosophical rationality as the only modes of fulfilling religious practice, our numbers will necessarily hemorrhage to any and all other movements that have chosen to include Kabbalah within their curricula.

Conclusion

The argument put forward in the preceding pages, and the conversation for which I’ve implicitly and explicitly called, are not intended to be directives mandating a programmatic restructuring of Modern Orthodoxy along mystical and kabbalistic principles. Such an ill-advised reform would surely be unsuccessful, nor would it be necessarily desirable even if it were tenable. Indeed, in order to embrace elements of the mystical tradition, Modern Orthodoxy need not renounce the flagship ideology of synthesizing the benefits of modern intellectual thought with the rich wisdom of our heritage. Nor do I intend to make it seem as if Modern Orthodoxy has systematically or intentionally purged mysticism and mystics from amidst its ranks. Yet to ignore completely the wisdom of this spiritually compelling and perpetually relevant literature will risk alienating a valuable segment of the committed religious population. We should make a place for individuals who do not wish to join a particular Hasidic group, believing instead in a broader spiritual application for mystical teachings, but who hold this ideal in tandem (and not necessarily in tension) with an unwavering fidelity to halakha. In doing so we may even attract people dissatisfied with their present communities by providing a unique fusion of openness to modern philosophy and scholarship with a commitment to traditional spirituality.

I do share the trepidation of many about indiscriminately bringing kabbalistic praxisinto Modern Orthodox ritual life. Promoting the recitation of esoteric mystical formulae will not likely accomplish any of these goals, nor would kabbalistic asceticism integrate well into contemporary society. However, I suggest that our times necessitate the bringing of the study of mystical texts into the curricula of our institutions across the board. Introducing these works will give us the vocabulary to open up and express an entire category religious experiences that had been previously sealed. Courses in pastoral care and public speaking have been adopted by many Modern Orthodox seminaries in an attempt to answer the need for a new model of religious leadership. In this vein, we must also train teachers and rabbis who can read kabbalistic and Hasidic texts with the same fluency that they tackle medieval or modern philosophy.

Though pietistic works like Nefesh haHaim and the existentialist-philosophical treatises of Rav Soloveitchik do certainly cover similar ground, our rich kabbalistic heritage has a wealth of material that only a literature composed over the span of a millennium can offer. Jewish high school students should also be offered courses in classical mystical thought, at least as an elective. Young adults of this age certainly have the maturity to begin addressing issues such the approach to prayer, gender roles, personal religious experience, and the dialectic between tradition and innovation, from a mystical perspective, provided that the texts are carefully chosen and taught.

It is true that many kabbalistic and Hassidic books are written in a terse and complicated style of Hebrew, employing symbolic language that can be quite difficult to decipher. However, this should not deter anyone for whom reading them in the original might present a problem from exploring these texts: over the past several decades an increasing number of mystical books have become available in English. These translations, which are often accompanied by a helpful commentary and explanatory notes, are an indispensible resource for any leaders wishing to teach kabbalistic texts in their synagogues or schools to an audience whose command of Hebrew may not otherwise be sufficient. However, selecting the right translation (and the right primary source) must be done carefully, since the quality of the work can vary widely. Some tend to be over-literal to the point of unintelligibility, while others are clearly literary recasting or summaries only loosely based on the original text. Yet a substantial number of the contemporary translations strike a careful balance between these poles, and are extremely valuable for the English-reading sector of our religious community. 

Many literary treasures of the Hassidic library have been translated, at least in part, although there are still many others waiting to be rendered into English. Scholars such as Louis Jacobs,[xviii] Norman Lamm[xix] and Joseph Dan[xx] have collected and translated anthologies of Hasidic thought along with their own commentary and analysis, and the great variety of the selections in these books demonstrates the thematic and conceptual breadth of Hasidic literature. In addition to a smaller collection of Hasidic sources on the subject of prayer, Arthur Green has published several volumes of English translations that are each taken entirely from the works of a single Hasidic master.[xxi] Similarly, many important teachings from the mystically infused works of Rav Kook have been rendered into an aesthetically pleasing English that authentically reflects the original writings.[xxii] It is interesting to note that the Chabad and Breslov Hassidic groups have both undertaken the task of creating bilingual editions of their own mystical works clearly intended for a broader audience; though certainly not unbiased, the translations are often very helpful.[xxiii] Finally, Daniel Matt is in the process of translating the entire Zohar, and while even in English this text remains difficult to study without a teacher, Matt’s poetic translation grants the reader access to much of the linguistic beauty and interpretive creativity that characterize the original Aramaic.[xxiv][xxv]

Mystical literature has much wisdom to offer that will neither threaten nor supersede faithfulness to halakhic study. Indeed, Kabbalah will compliment this by providing us access to an altogether different mode of religious experience and discourse. Let us make room within the variegated spectrum of Modern Orthodoxy for individuals devoted to both halakhic observance and the earnest quest to encounter God’s presence in this world. These are, after all, the core values to which we are committed.

Jonathan Kolatch's most recent books are China Mosaic and At the Corner of Fact & Fancy. His articles on the Far East, the Middle East, the American rural scene and medicine have appeared in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal and The Washington Post. This article appears in issue 9 of Conversations, the journal of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.

Before questioning the usefulness of the word “Orthodox,” let’s first acknowledge the need that this term serves. Congregations, like individuals, find benefit in affiliating with congregations of similar direction. Such affiliation provides the weight of numbers when larger issues, such as intermarriage and conversion, separation of church and state, recognition of homosexuals as congregants, and political positions on national and international issues, need to be addressed. Umbrella organizations also facilitate the establishment of religious standards for prayer, the ordination of rabbis, and the certification of teachers. They streamline fundraising. So, inevitably, groups such as the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations, the United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism, and the Union for Reform Judaism have come into being. The assumption that all individuals whose congregations are served by one of these umbrella organizations subscribe to the general standards of that organization is false.

That said, when used to categorize individuals, the word “Orthodox” (and its cognate, “religious”), its flavor of piety notwithstanding, is often a troublemaker: In the misconceptions it generates, in the provocation and divisiveness it engenders. In English or in its Hebrew equivalent, dati, it often conveys unintended meanings.

The term Orthodox is misleading because it hints at a uniform standard of religious conduct that, in reality, does not exist. When used to enforce exclusivity—the holier-than-thou phenomenon—it can become haughty, condescending, downright mean: ‘I am more Jewish than you.’

My brother, who is not at all ignorant when it comes to things Jewish, but who grew up in a Conservative home, with somewhat limited contact with Orthodox Jews, asks frequently if A or B is Orthodox, citing some degree of observance or dress. I, who belong to an Orthodox synagogue and have more extensive contact with Orthodox Jews—both in the United States and in Israel—am hard pressed to provide a sharp answer.

Outer appearance parameters vary too greatly to be instructive: head covered or not (yarmulke in all its forms or black hat for men; kerchief, hat, or wig for women); beard or clean shaven; tsitsith (prayer fringes) for men (worn inside one’s pants, outside, or not at all); slacks or floor-sweeping dress; how much of a woman’s arms are covered.

Is a man with an untrimmed, straggly beard more Orthodox than one who keeps his beard well groomed? What about a woman who doesn’t cover her head, who wears pants, who exposes her shoulders? Can she still be considered “Orthodox”?

Over the past winter, I spent a few days at Kibbutz S’de Eliyahu, an established Orthodox kibbutz in Israel’s Jordan Valley. Confused by the menagerie of women’s attire at the kibbutz, put this question to Beni Gavrieli, a transplanted American, with Conservative roots, who has lived at the kibbutz for two decades and has adapted to the Orthodox way of life. He proved sensitive to the question.

Beni told me that at S’de Eliyahu you find four types of women: those who cover their heads and wear long skirts, those who don’t cover their heads and wear long skirts, those who cover their heads and wear pants, and those who don’t cover their heads and wear pants. What is the conclusion? That women who don’t cover their heads and wear pants are not Orthodox? That S’de Eliyahu is not a religious kibbutz? That, when it comes to dress, Orthodoxy has no definable criteria? Nadia Matar, the noted Israeli activist and founder of Women in Green, an observant Jew by all standards, keeps her head uncovered at home, and, perhaps in deference to others, dons a baseball cap when she leaves the house.

An Israeli cousin with an Orthodox pedigree (graduate of Netiv Meir Yeshiva High School in Jerusalem and the hesder religious study-army service program), told me that the kerchief that Orthodox women wear on their heads “looks like a rag.” A year later, he got married. And what does his wife wear on her head? Right.

The unattractive (some call “dumpy”) dress of religious women, as much as anything, molds the negative image that the non-Orthodox (Jew and Gentile) carry of Orthodox Jews. Before meeting my cousin’s wife, from her picture alone, I had this same gut feeling of unworldliness. It turns out that she has two university degrees and is well traveled. I wonder whether her dress is out of choice or out of a need to meet standards of family and friends.

Whether or not one wears a yarmulke at all times is one of the most reliable outer dress indicators of whether a man is Orthodox. And if you are a perceptive observer, you can draw useful conclusions about the religious inclinations of the wearer by what sits on his head (broadcloth yarmulke, knitted yarmulke with bobby pins or clips, large knitted yarmulke, black yarmulke without pins, hats—black and otherwise).

But all who tend toward an observant lifestyle do not wear yarmulkes full time. Many take their skull caps off when not praying. Orthodox lawyers sometimes go bareheaded in court so that their religious preference does not influence the proceedings. Other times, people are just inconsistent. Some eat with their heads covered on the Sabbath, but not on weekdays or when eating out. A Reconstructionist rabbi I know puts on a yarmulke whenever he goes into a kosher restaurant, but not when he goes into a non-kosher restaurant. If at my Orthodox synagogue all who removed their yarmulkes after prayers (and by common perception are not Orthodox) were disqualified, there would be no minyan (quorum) at many weekday services.

Nowadays, particularly among rabbinical students, there are Conservative Jews who walk around with knitted yarmulkes on their heads all the time. They would bridle at being described as Orthodox. Yet, in behavior, if not in philosophy, they differ little if at all from Orthodox Jews.

♦ ♦ ♦

The degree of Sabbath observance is usually very predictive of whether or not one is Orthodox. Those who call themselves Orthodox Jews do not use electricity on the Sabbath; they don’t answer the phone, watch television, or listen to the radio; they don’t write or use computers. But you don’t know what they do in their own homes when no one is watching. The wife of a cousin in Israel once told me that occasionally her husband, who prayed daily, and was very careful with what he ate when traveling overseas for his work, would flip on the light by his bed on Friday night to read. Is he alone among those who call themselves Orthodox?

And there are practical considerations. My late uncle, an Orthodox Jew, who at the most inopportune moments could be seen drifting into a corner to pray and kept his head covered at all times, routinely returned home after dark on Friday afternoon in the winter. He ran a small business and could find no alternative. Many religious Jews fit into that category.

♦ ♦ ♦

With Sabbath observance, eating kosher food is certainly the most instructive parameter of being a religious Jew. But what does keeping kosher mean?

Even if you were given free access to poke around in someone’s kitchen and cupboards, you might come away with the wrong conclusion.

Orthodox kitchens customarily have two sinks, to maximally separate meat and dairy. But some families who live in small spaces suffice with one sink and separate sink boards. Others use one sink and two drainboards. Some don’t worry about sinks and drainboards.

It is usually permissible for drinking glasses to be used interchangeably for meat and dairy. But what about glass plates, which are no more absorbent?

Some of the food in the pantry or refrigerator you are exploring might lack kosher certification, but be perfectly kosher. The manufacturer might not be willing to be blackmailed by the certification agency. Or the foods—tea, coffee, spices, pasta, oils, sugar, salt, frozen vegetables—might be intrinsically kosher and the household unwilling to submit to nonsensical certification, which stretches to aluminum foil, wax paper, and plastic bags. And there is the concept of glatt kosher, which has no halakhic or logical basis. You cannot be more kosher than kosher.

Where and what Orthodox Jews eat outside of their homes often tells little about their Orthodoxy. There are those who will not eat in a kosher certified restaurant that is not Sabbath-observant, oblivious to the fact that it is the food that is being certified, not the restaurant or its workers. Some religious Jews will eat cold food in a restaurant serving non-kosher food; some will only eat salads; others will eat fish. Some will have a cup of coffee and no more. An Orthodox lawyer friend of mine, the former president of a prominent Orthodox congregation, will not eat in Fine & Schapiro, a noted kosher restaurant in Manhattan with a letter of certification in the window, because the restaurant is open on Saturday. But he will order a tuna fish sandwich in a non-kosher restaurant. The patterns of compromise and inconsistency are endless.

♦ ♦ ♦

Understanding the wide variation of Orthodox practice is crucial because the larger American Jewish population, not to speak of non-Jews, cannot differentiate between shades of Orthodoxy. The image that they carry of Orthodox Jews is of the narrow, judgmental, uncompromising, holier-than-thou segment that sees itself as the savior of the Jewish people.

No one knows what percentage of Orthodox Jews falls into this “holier-than-thou” category. But they are sufficient to blur the image of observant Jews. Such holier-than-thous will take pains to straighten the tefillin on the head of a visiting parishioner, claiming that it does not meet the hairline criteria; remove the light bulb from the refrigerator of a home that they are visiting before the onset of the Sabbath; scrutinize the mezuzot on doorposts and comment if they do not contain real parchment; turn an upward pointing etrog (citron) downward just as someone is reciting the lulav benediction on Sukkot. They are boorish, intolerant, unable to look you in the eye as equal Jews. Their way is the only way.

In our family, my father, whose name is known to many of all religious stripes for his best-selling, non-judgmental books on Judaism, was uninvited from taking part in the wedding ceremony of his niece at the last moment because, as a Conservative rabbi, he was deemed insufficiently Jewish.

Surprisingly, in my experience, the holier-than-thou attitude is more common among a segment of the American Orthodox population than among those who call themselves religious in Israel (and know on average a great deal more about Jewish religious practice than their American cousins). Perhaps it is the siege mentality of being a remnant minority in a sea of non-Jews.

♦ ♦ ♦

You can’t delve very far into a discussion of religious practice without confronting the question of consistency. Few Orthodox Jews fulfill all of the religious duties they think they should all the time. Inconsistency is what makes Orthodoxy such an elusive concept.

If a practicing Jew expects others to be tolerant of his religious customs, which are not adhered to by most Jews, he cannot refuse to eat in a friend’s home because it is not kosher while routinely eating a dairy sandwich in a non-kosher coffee shop. He cannot be absent from work on religious grounds one Sabbath and show up for work on the next. Onlookers get confused. Jews are as susceptible to this confusion as non-Jews.

My frequent trips to China and Japan over many years frequently put me face-to-face with this dilemma. My travel purpose is to mix with the people and see how they live. No daily activity is more important to Chinese than eating. Whether at home or in a restaurant, you can’t interact with Chinese very long without eating. I have explained hundreds of times what “kosher” means, without using the word. Often, that leads to differentiating between kosher and Moslem halal practices. Asians have a hard time understanding all these distinctions, but go a long way toward accommodating them. When the chief chef at a Chinese sports camp heard that potatoes were okay, potatoes baked in their jackets appeared every night at the table. A Tibetan woman made me a special cornmeal cake that she had milled herself.

From time to time, I meet up with some of these Chinese friends in larger Chinese cities such as Beijing and Shanghai, which have safer eating alternatives: vegetarian restaurants, which are close to 100 percent kosher without the certification. Why I eat vegetables and noodles at a sports camp in Kunming but would prefer a vegetarian restaurant in Beijing often confuses them.

My uncle, who has read my writings, asks with more than a little annoyance why, if I eat vegetables at a non-kosher restaurant in China or Japan, I insist on kosher or vegetarian restaurants back home. My answer is that here I have a choice.

There are two active Jewish concepts embedded in inconsistency that merit attention: mar’it ayin, how things appear to an outside observer; and b’farhesia, in the public domain.

Invoking mar’it ayin, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein ruled that a Harvard student could not participate in his graduation exercises on Shavuot because, although walking to the ceremony incurred no desecration of the holiday, it might appear to others that he drove to the ceremony. Rabbi Joseph Caro, the compiler of the Shulhan Arukh, ruled that “milk” made from almonds could not be served at a meat meal, because it might be misconstrued as mixing dairy with meat. Walking in the street in work clothes on the Sabbath, though no work is being done, would fall into this category. The implication is that behavior which with certainty will go unobserved is less objectionable according to Jewish law than public actions.

B’farhesia refers to actions performed in the public domain. Though the opposite may be expected, transgressions, Sabbath or otherwise, that are committed in one’s own domain, out of public view, and thus shame-proof, are no less contrary to Jewish law than the same prohibitions performed in public. Nevertheless, many religious Jews continue to make the distinction between private and public domain.

♦ ♦ ♦

The argument here is that if the word Orthodox were to be purged from the lexicon, and every person stood tall beside his own persona, we would have a more cohesive Judaism. That is why, when asked if I am Orthodox, I respond that I am observant, which allows for more differences, without a need to specify them. When they prospect over-intrusively for details, I paraphrase in Hebrew from the words of the havdalah prayer that ends the Sabbath: “Ani mavdil bayn kodesh leHol, I differentiate between the sacred Sabbath and the secular workweek.” That usually quiets them.

December, 2015

To our members and friends, I hope you are well.

It has been gratifying reaching so many people through classes and online offerings through our Institute. We thank all who are supporters and members and who have been participating in the wide variety of learning opportunities as we spread our vision across the country and beyond.

Here are some upcoming highlights for December-January:

Sunday December 6, 10:00-11:00 am: I will give a lecture, “Amos, Prophet of Social Justice,” at Congregation Hochma U'mussar 718 Avenue S, Brooklyn. Free and open to the public.

Shabbat December 18-19: I will be the scholar-in-residence at Congregation Sherith Israel in Nashville, Tennessee (3600 West End Ave). Free and open to the public.

Shabbat January 15-16: I will be the scholar-in-residence at the Kemp Mill Synagogue, Silver Spring, Maryland (11910 Kemp Mill Rd). Free and open to the public.

Saturday night, January 23, 8:30-9:30 pm: The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals and Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun (125 East 85th Street in Manhattan) are co-sponsoring a three-part series, History at Home: Saturday Night Fights: Great Jewish Debates. I will give the second lecture, “Controversies over the Historicity of Biblical Passages in Traditional Commentary.” Free and open to the public.

Year-Long Course: Navigating Through Nach: A Survey of the Prophets Beginning on Wednesday evening, January 27, I will resume our journey through the nineteen books of the Bible from Joshua through Chronicles. The best of traditional and contemporary scholarship will be employed as we study the central themes of each book. The course is taught at a high scholarly level but is accessible to people of all levels of Jewish learning. We have had over sixty people attending in the fall session. In the winter session we will cover the Books of Kings, Isaiah, and Jeremiah. All are welcome to join, and each lecture stands on its own so you can join at any time. If you want to catch up on previous lectures, you can find the fall session classes and source sheets on our website, jewishideas.org, under Online Learning.

Wednesday evenings 7:00-8:00pm Winter session dates: January 27, February 3, 10, 17, 24, March 2, 9, 16 Location: Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun, 125 East 85th Street (between Park and Lexington Avenues in Manhattan).

I also speak at Kehilath Jeshurun (125 East 85th Street) nearly every Shabbat and on holidays at their Sephardic Minyan, and give additional classes at KJ as well. All are welcome to join our vibrant, growing community, as we develop the ideas and ideals of our Institute in a communal framework.

I also am teaching advanced undergraduate Bible courses full-time in the Isaac Breuer College of Yeshiva University. This coming semester we will be learning the Books of Numbers, I Samuel, and Psalms.

My forthcoming book, a commentary on Haggai-Zechariah-Malachi is in the editing process, to be published by Maggid Press in Israel as part of their growing series of commentaries on the Bible.

Finally, please check out our Online Learning section on our website, jewishideas.org, for the latest recordings of my classes. I thank all of our members and friends for their ongoing support and participation as we spread our vision to thousands of people throughout the country and beyond. I look forward to learning together with you and growing the reach of our Institute with your help and involvement.

Have a wonderful Hanukkah,

Rabbi Hayyim Angel, National Scholar

October, 2015

To our members and friends, Shanah tovah, I hope you have been enjoying a meaningful holiday season. As the end of this beautiful season approaches, our Institute educational programming is about to kick off full-throttle.

Here are some of the upcoming learning opportunities. Year-Long Course: Navigating Through Nach: A Survey of the Prophets Although Tanakh lies at the heart of the vision of Judaism and has influenced billions of people worldwide, many often lack access to these eternal works. Beginning on Wednesday evening, October 14, I will begin a two-year journey through the nineteen books of the Bible from Joshua through Chronicles. The best of traditional and contemporary scholarship will be employed as we study the central themes of each book. This year we will survey the books of the prophets (Nevi'im). The course will be taught at a high scholarly level but is accessible to people of all levels of Jewish learning. Co-sponsored by KJ and the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals

Wednesday evenings from 7-8pm Location: Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun, 125 East 85th Street (between Park and Lexington Avenues in Manhattan). Fall session (Joshua, Judges, Samuel): October 14, 21, 28, November 4, 11, 18, December 2, 9. Free and open to the public, please email me at [email protected] if you plan on attending.

On Wednesday, October 14, 1:00-2:00pm, I will give a lecture at the Allegra Franco School of Educational Leadership on the Tower of Babel in classical and contemporary scholarship. Location: Congregation Beth Torah, 1061 Ocean Parkway, Brooklyn. Free and open to the public.

On Shabbat, October 23-24, I will be the scholar-in-residence at Congregation Anshei Sfard Beth El Emeth, 120 East Yates Road North, Memphis, Tennessee. All are welcome.

On Sunday, November 8, 10:30am, the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals and Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun are co-sponsoring a book reception for Naomi Ragen’s latest book, The Devil in Jerusalem: A Novel. Free and open to the public, books will be available for purchase.

On Shabbat, November 13-14: I will be the scholar-in-residence at Young Israel of Hollywood-Ft. Lauderdale, 3291 Stirling Road, Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. All are welcome. The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals and Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun are co-sponsoring a three-part series, History at Home: Saturday Night Fights: Great Jewish Debates. I will give the first lecture on Saturday night, November 21, at 8:30 pm: “Dogma, Heresy, and Classical Debates: How We May Create Jewish Unity in an Age of Confusion.”

I speak at Kehilath Jeshurun (125 East 85th Street) nearly every Shabbat and on holidays at their Sephardic Minyan, and give additional classes at KJ as well. All are welcome to join our vibrant, growing community, as we develop the ideas and ideals of our Institute in a communal framework.

As part of my ongoing teachers’ training programs, I will be teaching a three-part series on “How to Teach Tanakh in Synagogues” for the Graduate Program of Advanced Talmudic Studies (GPATS) at Stern College for Women of Yeshiva University. These classes, to be held October 28, November 4, and November 11, are open only to the participants in their program.

I also am teaching advanced undergraduate Bible courses full-time in the Isaac Breuer College of Yeshiva University. This semester we are learning the Books of Exodus, Judges, and Isaiah. My forthcoming book, a commentary on Haggai-Zechariah-Malachi is in the editing process, to be published by Maggid Press in Israel as part of their growing series of commentaries on the Bible.

Finally, please check out our Online Learning section on our website, jewishideas.org, for the latest recordings of my classes online. I thank all of our members and friends for their ongoing support and participation as we spread our vision to thousands of people throughout the country and beyond. I look forward to learning together with you and growing the reach of our Institute with your help and involvement.

Shanah Tovah, Rabbi Hayyim Angel National Scholar

September, 2015

To our members and friends, I hope you are all well.

As the New Year approaches, we have a robust new season of Institute programs in store. This report will give an overview, and upcoming reports will announce more specifics as the dates get closer.

A major exciting development over this past summer is that we have created a partnership with Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun on the East of Side of Manhattan (125 East 85th Street) in my role as their Rabbinic Scholar. Through this shared vision and relationship, we have created a New York home for our Institute’s programming. Last year we held two symposia at Kehilath Jeshurun, and this year we already have several special programs and a lecture series lined up, with more to follow.

In conjunction with the Institute, I will be giving a weekly survey of the Bible at KJ on Wednesday evenings (7:00-8:00 pm) beginning after the holidays on October 14 (subsequent announcements will contain all the dates). Free and open to the public. This course, as with all my work in Bible, integrates the best of traditional and contemporary scholarship.

My father and I will also co-teach a three-part series, History at Home: Saturday Night Fights: Great Jewish Debates (each lecture begins at 8:30 pm at Kehilath Jeshurun): November 21: Dogma, Heresy, and Classical Debates: How We May Create Jewish Unity in an Age of Confusion - Rabbi Hayyim Angel January 23: Controversies over the Historicity of Biblical Passages in Traditional Commentary - Rabbi Hayyim Angel March 5: Rambam vs. Spinoza: Approaches to Religion and Reason - Rabbi Marc Angel

I also speak at Kehilath Jeshurun nearly every Shabbat and on holidays at their Sephardic Minyan (and give additional classes at KJ as well). All are welcome to join our vibrant, growing community, as we develop the ideas and ideals of our Institute in a communal framework.

In the area of teacher training, I taught a course in teaching Bible in synagogues to Honors Rabbinical Students at Yeshiva University last spring. I will be giving a similar course to the Graduate Program for Women in Advanced Talmudic Study at Stern College for Women of Yeshiva University this coming fall.

Thus far I have three scholar-in-residence weekends on the calendar, with several others in discussion: October 23-24: Anshei Sfard Beth El Emeth (Memphis, Tennessee) November 13-14: Young Israel of Hollywood-Fort Lauderdale, Florida January 15-16: The Kemp Mill Synagogue (Silver Spring, Maryland)

It is a singular privilege to help develop and promote the ideas of our Institute and teach thousands of people annually. It likewise has been an important development to include teacher training and symposia where we connect with other rabbis, educators, and scholars to promote our vision more robustly. By doing so we have increasingly become the address for discussing the major issues confronting the Jewish community from a traditionally faithful perspective.

We also celebrate the legitimate diversity of opinion within our classical sources as we engage our community in religious conversations. I thank all of our members and supporters for making this vision a growing reality.

Shanah tovah, Rabbi Hayyim Angel National Scholar, [email protected]

Preface

            “Jewish, not Israeli” is a phrase I found myself repeating to many a Palestinian this summer (the summer of May 2010, following my senior year of high school) at Seeds of Peace international conflict resolution camp. Although I was part of the American delegation, and by definition not an Israeli, I was often identified by Palestinian campers as the “other side.” But Israel is neither my birthplace nor my current home, so one need not have expected my beliefs to oppose Palestinian existence.

            Seeds of Peace is a nonprofit organization that brings together young adults from conflict areas in the Middle East and Southeast Asia to share their personal stories from the conflicts that often shape their lives. Two hours of every day at camp, a dialogue was facilitated among a group of about four Israelis, four Palestinians, two Egyptians, two Jordanians, and two or three Americans, when the campers had a unique opportunity to discuss the conflict on both a political and personal level. The rest of each day, the campers played sports and games or participated in lighthearted activities that allowed them to get to know one another outside their national identities.

            As a Jewish American, I often found it difficult to define my role in the dialogue sessions, as well as at other times among my peers. My connection to Israel had thus far been solely a religious one, and I had never explored the idea that perhaps I have an obligation to defend the land as a political state. I found that many of the Palestinians’ stories resonated with me on a personal human level. And while I did not necessarily always agree with their presentations, I had a deeper historical and national connection with the Israeli narrative. I felt that as a Jew I have some obligation to the State of Israel, although I could not define what that obligation is or whether the State of Israel has an obligation to me as Jew. 

            The tension I felt between the identities “Jewish” and “Israeli” led me to explore the perspective and self-identification of my Israeli friends who were at the camp. None of them practiced mitzvoth or Jewish customs; none had been educated at religious schools; their familiarity with Jewish texts, practice, and religious history was extremely minimal. Except for one or two Israelis in the program, the only defining characteristic of their Jewish was is the fact that they live in the Land of Israel. To most of them, being Jewish was not part of their national identity; rather, it is a religious heritage, and one hardly relevant to their lives. To these secular Israelis, to be a Jew means something different than to be part of the Israeli nation, the former being an abstract, religious identity and the latter being a tangible, definable political identity. When the dialogues would turn to the legitimacy of the State of Israel, Judaism was not factored into the equation by secular Israelis, because in their minds the two identities are separate. This tension between Zionism and Judaism can largely be explained by the fact that Zionism is an ideology that emphasizes a land with borders, and a government, while Judaism was originally defined first and foremost by an event that took place outside the land of Israel, and for the past 2,000 years has been about a relationship between a nation and God—whether that nation lives in the land of Israel or not.

            The Jewish nation is unique in its definition and establishment, and especially in its relationship to land. It began as a family, descended from Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—defined primarily by blood—united by the events that took place after the Exodus from Egypt and ultimately forming a sovereign state following the conquest of the land of Canaan. Although the Jews became an autonomous nation within physical borders, the status of an Israelite was defined by descent. Therefore, the Jewish nation is a family that belongs in a land but is not reliant on a land in order to exist. There is no other case in which a nation is defined as a nation before it enters a land; every other nation unites as a nation as a result of geographical commonness. Philosopher Michael Wyschogrod, in his bookThe Body of Faith, articulates this unique quality of the Jewish nation.

The land had to be conquered. The result has been that Jewish consciousness has vividly retained the memory of the land as having belonged to others before it came to belong to Israel. Other nations do not retain such memories. Their memory does not go back to a time when they did not occupy their land. In fact, the national identities of other nations are land-bound identities. The nation is defined by the territory it occupies. But [the Jewish nation] comes into national existence before it occupies the land. It becomes a nation on the basis of a promise delivered to it when it is a stranger in the land of others. This awareness of being a stranger is burned into Jewish consciousness. The God of Israel is not a God whose jurisdiction is defined by territorial boundaries. (Wyschogrod, 220—221)

Wyschogrod further explains that what unites Jews is their familial descent from Abraham. As such, Jews do not internalize the common Western division between faith and nationality. To be a Jew is not merely to have religious obligations, it is first and foremost to be part of a family and nation.

Judaism is not a set of beliefs, however broadly that term be interpreted. A full definition of Judaism does, of course, involve a whole complex of ideas, beliefs, values and obligations posed by Judaism. The whole of the immense literary output of Judaism consists of the elaboration of just these ideas. But however crucial these are, they are, in a sense, superstructure rather than foundation. The foundation of Judaism is the family identity of the Jewish people as the descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Whatever else is added to this must be seen as growing out of and related to the basic identity of the Jewish people as the seed of Abraham elected by God through descent from Abraham. (Wyschogrod, 57)

Because the Jewish nation is not defined by a geographical area but by a familial bond, it has been able to survive in exile for the past 2,000 years. Rabbi Meir Soloveichik has noted that “after they were exiled from the land with the destruction of the Temple in 70 C.E., [Jewish] nationhood remained intact for millennia, enabling a Jew born in 19^th-century Morocco to consider himself a member of the same nation as a Jew born in 19^th -century Poland.” The memory of—and the longing to return to—the land has also played a vital role in sustaining the cohesiveness of the Jewish nation through prayer and a collective ultimate goal, but it has never been the defining characteristic. As Rabbi Jonathan Sacks puts it, “there is a difference between where we are and who we are. Judaism is not wrong to see identity as a matter of birth” (Sacks, A Letter in the Scroll, 46).

            In the book of Exodus, Moses is one of the first Jews to struggle with his identity and with what it means to be a Jew. When God comes to him at the burning bush and assigns him his task of leading the Jews out of Egypt, Moses’ first question is “Who am I?” Moses is questioning the fundamental identity of nationhood. Who is he—what is his identity—that makes him qualified for such a job? He did not live among the rest of the Jews, was not brought up as they were, nor was he even considered one of them for most of his life. The only connection he had to his people was a familial one, and at this turning point in his life he questions the legitimacy or sufficiency of that connection. God answers him by explaining that He is the God of Moses’ ancestors, and, as Rabbi Sacks puts it, “Moses’ crisis is resolved and never reappears in that form. He now knows that he is part of an unfinished story that began with the patriarchs and continues through him. He may wear the clothes and speak the language of an Egyptian, but he is a Jew because that is who his ancestors were, and their hopes now rest on him” (Sacks, A Letter in the Scroll, 46). The Jewish nation is defined by ancestry, not by culture or location, and Moses’ return to his nation shows how strong the familial tie can be in holding a nation together. The Jewish nation has stayed alive without the bonds of language or homeland for hundreds of years, and Moses was the very first to demonstrate how powerful the bond of family can be in re-uniting a people.

            That Judaism is defined by a familial rather than a racial or geographical bond is evident in the conversion process. When one becomes a Jew, he or she severs all previous familial ties—her siblings are no longer her siblings, and he has neither a mother nor father; for he or she has joined a new family. Rabbi Meir Soloveichik, in his essay on conversion, “How Not to Become a Jew,” explains that “just like a born Jew, a convert is not only a coreligionist, not only a fellow citizen, but also a new brother or sister. In reciting Jewish liturgy, the convert joins all other Jews in referring to the Almighty as ‘the God of my fathers’; he means it, and he is meant to mean it, in more than a metaphorical sense.” For this reason, Rabbi Aaron Lichtenstein explains, conversion to Judaism is not a private religious baptism; it takes place in a Jewish court, because it is a citizenship hearing. Thus, Rabbi Lichtenstein notes, the biblical Ruth only informs Naomi that “your God will be my God,” after she first declared, “your nation will be my nation.” Because the Jews are a family, a child born to a Jewish mother will be a Jew from the moment of birth (unlike a child born to a Christian mother who becomes Christian upon baptism) until his death, regardless of his actions or beliefs. The Jewish people is the only people that is considered both a religion and a nation, and is not defined conventionally like any other faith or nation. This uniqueness gives the Jews a special role in both of mankind’s religious and nationalistic spheres.

            This familial connection, which overrides differences in language, culture, appearance, location, and even denomination, has allowed the Jews to remain a nation even while dispersed over the globe. And interestingly, as Michael Wyschogrod writes, it is the Jews’ definition of themselves as a nation without a land that allowed the land-based State of Israel to come into existence in the first place.

Modern Israel could not have come into being without it. Out of people of the most diverse cultural and national traditions, Israel created one people. To be more accurate, it did not create such a people but found one in existence. In the early stages of the Zionist movement, European Jews had little acquaintance with non-European, Sephardic Jews…Yet the viability of a state made up of such diverse elements was never brought into question. There was a bond among Jews that was deeper than all the differences, which turned out to be far more superficial than would have been thought. (Wyschogrod, 240)

But the nation that arose, the modern State of Israel, relies on borders and government and judicial systems. For 2,000 years, the Jewish nation was not defined by geography, but with the rise of the State of Israel, the two identities became intertwined and often confused. Jewishness had for ages provided the bond of family, religion, and nationality to Jews everywhere, but Israeli nationality, if not defined properly, can create a new set of definitions for what it means to be Jewish and create divisions among Jews. The elements of Jewishness that allowed the Jews to remain a nation without a land also enabled the birth of the State of Israel to succeed. But this new state by its existence invites Israelis to redefine their nationhood as land-based, and the nation to which they belong as Israeli rather than Jewish. This new identity and definition carries the danger that Jewishness will no longer be about nationality, and will be redefined solely as a religious vocation.

            This is precisely the tension I witnessed at Seeds of Peace among my secular Israeli friends. Several months after camp had ended, I went to Israel to investigate this dialectic that exists between the Jewish and Israeli identities. I interviewed several of my secular Israeli friends, to hear in their own words how this tension played out in their self-identification and their identification with their state and of their faith. Among the questions I asked were: What is Israel? What does it mean to be part of the nation of Israel? What does it mean to be part of the Jewish nation? And what nations did your ancestors belong to?

            When asked to define the State of Israel, Nili, a self-defined secular Israeli from Petah Tikvah who attended Seeds of Peace, explained that it is “my home. The place I was born,” and went on to say that being part of the nation of Israel means “you belong to somewhere, you have a place that you live and you have a place that is it for you, because I’m a Jew, it’s my country so [I] belong to it.” For Nili, being Israeli is her nationality that she says is connected to the fact that she is Jewish; but when asked what it means to be part of the Jewish nation, she responded by saying (translated from Hebrew), “I am not so connected to my faith because I don’t really do mitzvoth and all of that.” In other words, for Nili, her Jewishness is a religious matter rather than a national one; she added, however, that she understands that other Jews, as they travel all over the world, “feel as if they have a community, that they have people to rely on.” She understands the connection that Jews have, but does not include herself in it, because, to Nili, Judaism is separate from her national self-identity. She defines herself as Israeli, and although she acknowledges that being Jewish contributes to that identity—along with the fact that she was physically born in the state—she does not recognize that the identities are intertwined, and that the State of Israel’s existence is a result of the fact that the Jewish nation was able to stay strong and proud and connected throughout the centuries.

To Nili, nationality is her primary identity, and she does not feel as if she is part of another community other than the State of Israel. She sees nationality as being bound by land. I then asked Nili,

            “Where are your ancestors from, and what nation did they belong to?”

             “My grandparents are from Russia, and they were Russians, on both sides.”

            “But what nation did they belong to?”

            “Russian.”

She did not say they are part of the Jewish nation or of an ultimately larger community not defined by borders; her grandparents would have certainly defined themselves as Jews first and foremost, and would have been shocked to be referred to as Russians. Before 1948, Jews had a hard time being faithful countrymen because often their countries betrayed them, and they also had to struggle to hold on to their Jewish identities. Identifying with the Jewish nation was important for survival. My experience is that “Israeli” easily replaces “Jewish” for people who live in Israel who do not practice Judaism or make it a prominent part of their existence. Nili acknowledges that Judaism plays a role in her overall sense of self, but it is not center stage, and is just a component of her nationality. When asked what the purpose of the State of Israel is, Nili said, “To bring all the Jews to one place because there has always been anti-Semitism, and I think that they should all live in one place so that they can have a government and an army and so that they can protect themselves.” For Nili, Israel is a Jewish State so that the Jewish people can live peacefully. To her, the Jews need to create for themselves a nationality with government and autonomy like every other nation so that they can define themselves as every other nation does, with borders and a government. The irony is that the existence of the State of Israel, a testament to Jewish resilience, also enables non-practicing Jews in Israel to forget the long-standing uniqueness of the Jewish definition of nationhood, which does not rely on geographical commonness, into a land-based nationalistic one.

            Many of the other self-defined secular Israeli friends I interviewed came to conclusions similar to Nili’s. Nadav, a secular Israeli living in Tel Aviv, who did not attend Seeds of Peace, said that being part of the Israeli nation means “living and being part of the Israeli life, living in Israel,” and that being part of the Jewish nation means “living among other Jews and participating in life with other Jews,” with no mention of history or ancestry. Nadav very clearly separates the two identities on a very technical level; neither identity is reliant on the other. Like Nili, Nadav said that the purpose of the State of Israel is to create a solution to anti-Semitism and to bring all the Jews to one place so that they can “express themselves as a nation.” He acknowledges the role that the Jewish nation plays in the establishment of Israel, but still his national identity takes precedence over his Jewish identity. He describes his ancestors as belonging to the nations of Poland, Russia, and Hungary, in the same way that he belongs to the nation of Israel. “The same way the French are connected with France because it’s the land of their ancestors, a territory that they have an emotional connection with, that’s Israel for me.” Nadav views nationality as being strictly land-based and, although he sees a connection between his ancestors and his nationality, he is referring to his ancestors who actually inhabited the same land that he does now, not the ones who may not have necessarily lived in Israel; they do not provide for him a reason to be Israeli.

            Nadav goes on on to create a divide between his religion and nationality, explaining that government and statehood should only be influenced by religion “as long as it does not interfere with democracy. The existence of Israel as a modern nation-state separate from the Jewish identity ultimately leaves my friends with a contradiction: why should they be allowed to form a new nation in this specific land? If Jews are not defined by descent from Abraham, with whom God formed a covenant and to whom He promised the Holy Land, then by what right do modern Israelis in this century lay claim to this land with these borders?

            The contradiction that the secular Israelis pose for themselves became evident to me during my visit when I interviewed my fellow Palestinian campers from Seeds. As I noted, secular Israelis create a divide between their identity as Jews and their identity as Israelis when asked about how they define themselves and what it means to be part of each nation—but to some extent the Israeli identity requires Judaism for its legitimacy, and here these Israelis either contradict themselves or remain answerless. In contrast, my Palestinian friends ironically understand that Zionism is intimately bound up with the fact that all Jews share a national status, and that their claim to the land lies in Jewish history and in the religious longings of Judaism. I asked Fadi, a Palestinian living in the West Bank who attended Seeds of Peace, how he thinks the Israeli nation defines and legitimizes itself. When asked to define the Jewish nation, Fadi hesitantly answered “Israel,” because to him the identities “Jewish” and “Israeli” go hand in hand, and, although he knows that fundamentally they are different, he also knows that the Israeli identity relies on components of Judaism. When asked what Israelis say to defend their right to be in Israel and to what extent he thinks their claim is legitimate, Fadi answered that “their excuse is that the country was promised to them by God, I can’t deny or agree or say [it’s legitimate]… I don’t mind living with Jews, but not in this kind of way.” Fadi sees the connection that Judaism has to the State of Israel and refers to the people that he lives among as Jews, not Israelis. Similarly, Jalal, a Palestinian from East Jerusalem who also attended Seeds of Peace, defined the Jewish nation as “Israel” and said (partly translated from Arabic), “I think Israelis say, almost all of them, that it is the land that they are promised to be in by the Bible, that it’s written that it’s the promised land and that they have to be in it and protect it…”

            The Palestinians acknowledge the interconnected relationship between the Jewish nation and the Israeli nation, more so than my secular Israeli friends, because they know that it explains why Jews all over the world are allowed instant Israeli citizenship and why Israel was ultimately formed in the Middle East, and not in Uganda. Judaism has answers to all the arguments that question the State’s existence, even though they are not the only answers. The State was established for many reasons, such as to create a haven from anti-Semitism, as Nili and Nadav said, but the other reasons do not answer the questions that only a historical and religious claim to the land of Israel can.

            The Palestinian definition of nationhood is similar to that of secular Israelis—a definition that allows there to be a situation in which the nation could no longer exist. When I asked Fadi what it means to be part of the Palestinian nation, he corrected me and said that Palestine is not a nation:

            “If Palestine was a nation, it would be nice.”

            “Why isn’t Palestine a nation?”

            “Because it’s under occupation.”

            “What does that mean that it’s under occupation?”

“That a country under occupation is a country that is ruled by a different power other than its own people, including water resources, land, freedom of transportation.”

            “So it’s not a nation if it doesn’t have a country?”

            “It’s people…but it’s not a nation because it’s not a country.”

This definition of nationhood is completely based on land and statehood, a definition that the Jewish nation has never applied to itself until now. According to this definition, one that secular Israelis adhere to, nationhood is bound up with statehood, which 2,000 years in exile has proven not to be the case for the Jewish nation.

            What emerged in my interviews of secular Israelis is that at times, inability to account for the link between Jewish nationhood and Zionism causes the most secular Israelis to completely redefine the State of Israel and its purpose. Shahar, a secular Israeli from Jerusalem who did not attend Seeds of Peace, is a young woman who believes that being part of the Israeli nation means to “be ready to sacrifice yourself for others, to be ready to give up some of what you have so that others will be in a better situation.” Shahar completely separates her religious identity from her nationalistic identity. She said in her interview that she needs Israel for the same reason that the French need France and that the English need England—for reasons solely dependent on geographical circumstances. After Shahar explained that government should not be influenced by religion, I asked her how there could possibly be a Jewish state, and she answered that Israel is not a Jewish state but an Israeli state and that the Jewish religion is an entirely separate entity: “It began as a Jewish state but in my opinion [it changed], I don’t see it as a Jewish state anymore, it can’t stay like that… especially when the population changes so much.” Shahar completely redefines the State of Israel in a way that would not please most Jews around the world and even many of her fellow Israelis. When asked what is significant about the State’s location, Shahar explained that it is the perfect place to build a country—due to the “diversity of terrain, the location of Israel is so special. We have deserts and mountains and everything…the greenery in the North and the emptiness in the South it shows all the amazing things that can happen here.” This redefinition does not provide answers to the most difficult questions that face the young country today. According to Shahar, her immigrant grandparents should not be allowed citizenship anymore than a non-Jew from Asia. She could not answer the question of “why not Uganda?”

            Before the end of my trip, I had a chance to interview my self-defined religious Israeli friend Daniella from Jerusalem, who did not attend Seeds of Peace, and ask her the same questions that I had asked the secular Israelis. She immediately defined herself as “a religious, Jewish, Israeli” and as belonging to the “Jewish and Israeli nations, but more importantly the Jewish nation.” She explained that being part of the Israeli nation means (translated from Hebrew) “to care about the existence of the nation…To me to be Israeli feels like everything is on your shoulders, not every day, but we are always fighting to exist.” When asked what it means to be part of the Jewish nation, Daniella immediately responded that it is “the same thing. Jewish and Israeli isn’t the same thing but they have the same idea that we are united and in danger all the time and we always have to protect ourselves in order to preserve our nation.” To Daniella, Judaism requires as much protection as the State of Israel because they are both nations viewed in the eyes of the world as being intertwined. She views the two identities as needing protection from the same threats, acknowledging the close bond between the two and the fact that many components of the Israeli nation rely on the Jewish nation. She went on to explain that “I think all Jews should live in the State of Israel because all Jews should live together… in the Land of Israel because I believe in the Tanakh and this is the state for the Jews…. I know that we also need the state for [protection from anti-Semitism], but I don’t think that this is the main reason.” Daniella’s opinion regarding the Jewish presence in Israel poses no contradiction when asked what is significant about the State’s location: “I know it has to be here and not in Uganda, to me it is because the Tanakh says so.” Daniella also remains consistent in her opinion that all Jews have the right to live in Israel as she explains that her grandparents, although they are from Hungary, South Africa, Syria, and Romania, “they all share the Jewish nationality,” and so they all have an equal right to Israeli citizenship in the Land of Israel. She does not see the Jewish nation as a land-based one, but as a nation that wants to be based in a certain land.

            In May of 2009, Binyamin Netanyahu, the current Prime Minister of Israel, addressed the country and acknowledged the problem that many Israelis have with associating their heritage with their current way of life. He explained that the maintenance of historical ties can have a profound effect on the modern nation-state.

In the Book of Books—in the Bible—a subject that is close to my heart these days. It starts there. It moves through the history of our people: the Second Temple, the Middle Ages, the Enlightenment, leaving the ghettos, the rise of Zionism, the modern era, the wars fought for Israel’s existence—the history of Zionism and of Israel. A people must know its past in order to ensure its future… our existence depends not only on a weapons system, our military strength, the strength of our economy, our innovation, our exports, or on all these forces that are indeed essential. It depends, first and foremost, on the knowledge and national sentiment we as parents bestow on our children, and as a state to its education system. It depends on our culture; it depends on our cultural heroes; it depends on our ability to explain the justness of our path and demonstrate our affinity for our land—first to ourselves and then to others.

Netanyahu acknowledges the fact that in order for Israel to sustain its identity as a nation as well as its legitimacy it must take initiative to strengthen the ties between the heritage of the Israeli nation—the Jewish nation—and the new generation of Israelis.

            When reflecting on this experience, I was struck by differences between the opinions of the secular and religious Israelis. Although the visions and goals of both groups may be very similar, their approaches to fulfilling them are drastically different and can have many different consequences. For example, the secular Israelis who view Judaism solely as a religion and Israel solely as a land-based nation—two identities that are not fundamentally intertwined— may never be able to defend their presence in the Middle East, while religious Israelis who believe that the purpose of the State of Israel is primarily to provide the opportunity for Jews to live in the Land of Israel may wind up being insensitive to the claims and rights of non-Jewish Israelis who live in the land. Both identities are important and represent realities that the State of Israel must deal with and reconcile. Both categories of people feel strongly about their presence and the justifications for it, and although they present an array of arguments as well as contradictions, to quote Daniella, “we are all Jews and ultimately want the same things.” Although both approaches to Zionism have positive and negative aspects, the fact that the two cannot reconcile their lack of unity regarding self-identity poses a threat. A society that cannot explain itself cannot ensure its survival. The secular Israelis’ contradictory answers to my questions make me nervous that ultimately they will not be able to answer the larger questions that the world will ask: Why there? Why you? Who are you?

            By the end of the experience, I realized that the conflict that Seeds of Peace sets out to settle is just one of many problems that the State of Israel faces. The fact that there is such a large divide in both opinion and practice between secular and religious Israelis poses a problem regarding identity, self-defense, and self-sustenance. As someone who is good friends with both, I have come to the conclusion that both secular and religious Israeli Jews can learn from one another how to value the different approaches to nationality and create a more cohesive society, one better able to protect the land in the present and plant the real seeds of

When we moved to Israel 30 years ago we sacrificed a number of things: living space (we exchanged a two-story home on a large plot of land for an apartment in a 10-story building) and the excellent, affordable, and personal medical care to which middle-class Americans had then grown accustomed. We also lost Sundays as days off.

What we gained made this all worthwhile: a sense of purpose, a sense of being part of something important that was bigger than ourselves, and, we thought, the opportunity finally to be part of the mainstream.

How did things work out? Rather differently than expected. Israel has grown much more prosperous over the years (if we did not mind the commute, we could sell our large apartment in Haifa and move to a lovely home in the Galilee); medical care here has improved dramatically, while the level of care for middle-class Americans has gone down and the price has gone up, both dramatically. Jewish education here remains problematic, but it is certainly not bankrupting parents, as it is in North America. The five-day week has reached Israel (when it was first proposed to the late Levi Eshkol he is reputed to have said: “First let’s see if we can get people to work for four days, before stretching it to five.”)—with Fridays replacing America’s Sundays as part of the weekend.

Two things particularly surprised us: we raised children with Israeli manners, and we certainly did not become part of the mainstream. Both of us grew up in rabbinical homes, with fathers active in Mizrahi and both fathers and mothers deeply involved in Jewish education, seeing all of the Jewish people as their responsibility. We assumed that we would find like-minded communities here in Israel. That did not turn out to be the case. Over the years we have lived here, the National Religious Party (Mafdal), the Israeli branch of the World Mizrahi, engaged in a long drawn-out act of suicide. No longer seeing itself as appealing to and seeking to represent all Jews, Ashkenazi and Sefardi, dati and non-dati, it first turned itself into the party of Orthodox Zionists, and, after the rise of Shas, into a party of Orthodox Ashkenazi Zionists; it then turned its gaze even further inward and turned itself into the party of the Orthodox Ashkenazi Zionist Settlers. It has now transmogrified into the extreme right-wing “Bayit Yehudi” party with three members of K’nesset (one of whom we know personally and admire as an individual), two of whom basically speak to each other only through the third.

One of us was here in 1967 as a volunteer on a border kibbutz before, during, and after the war and we both initially shared the widespread enthusiasm for settling the territories occupied during the war. After moving here in 1980, we more and more came to realize the folly of seeking to hold on to the “Greater Land of Israel” and drifted leftward politically, putting us out of synch with our neighbors, with most of our friends from synagogue, and, significantly, with the B’nei Akiva youth movement, to which our children belonged. Israel is a society of clearly defined groupings, with clear labels. We often had the sense that in the eyes of many of our fellow synagogue-goers, political “deviance” was a reflection of religious “deviance.” So much for becoming part of the mainstream!

Another issue that distanced us ideologically (if rarely personally) from our friends and neighbors was our growing discomfort with what is usually referred to as “religious coercion.” We very much enjoyed living in a Jewish State that was Jewish not only by virtue of the majority of its populace, but also because traditional Jewish holidays were national holidays and the public square used to be recognizably Jewish. It is not important in this context to point fingers of blame for this, but in our 30 years here the public square in Israel has grown ever more secular, ever more distanced from its Jewish roots, just as the religiously observant have largely retreated into self-made ghettos. From our perspective, attempts to force Judaism down the throats of Israelis have boomeranged. Whether that is indeed the cause or not is less important than the fact that the public face of Israel has changed beyond recognition in our years here.

Let us give one example of this phenomenon. When we moved here, our synagogue had a second minyan for kol nidre for our non-observant neighbors, and the entire neighborhood congregated around the synagogue, even if they did not come in. Nowadays, there is no second kol nidre minyan, no one hangs around the synagogue, and although most secular Israelis fast and do not drive on Yom Kippur (out of vestigial cultural identification), since the roads are almost entirely empty, they are taken over by kids on bikes and roller blades. That is the Yom Kippur these children will remember when they grow up: fancy bikes and empty roads as opposed to empty stomachs.

To simplify a very complicated process, over the years that we have lived here, Israel has become more and more like America (for good and for ill), and as it has grown ever more American, one might think that the ideological rationale for living here has grown weaker (after all, we came here to participate in the process of building a recognizably Jewish—culturally, not necessarily halakhically— nation, not an imitation North America). That our ideological Zionism has not become attenuated is, largely—it is odd to say—thanks to hatred of Israel in so-called progressive circles around the world. To our surprise, Li-heyot am hofshi beArtseinu—to be a free nation in our land—remains HaTikvah, the not-yet- realized hope, of the Zionist movement. Thirty years ago it seemed that the hope had been realized; over the last decade it has become clear that our hopeful dream is a nightmare for wide swaths of “enlightened” opinion around the world (and in “elite” circles in Israel). Suddenly, once again, to be a Zionist is to be a revolutionary, to go against the current.

Another surprise: Israel was meant to cure anti-Semitism; sadly, it has not. Only 60 years after the Holocaust, our generation is once again called upon to defend the right of Jews to live and to live as a free nation in its own homeland.

Living in Israel is once again more than simply making a living in Hebrew. We are challenged to show that the dream is worthwhile and attainable. For people like us, that makes living in Israel even more compelling than it was 30 years ago when we made aliya.

An Orthodox colleague recently created a controversy after writing a blog post explaining why he no longer recites the blessing shelo asani isha - thanking God for not creating him as a woman. Several Orthodox rabbis criticized this position for various reasons with one even questioning the author's right to call himself "Orthodox," ostensibly for deviating from the traditional liturgy through his omission. In the grand scheme of Orthodox Jewish history this rabbi's personal choice is relatively trivial. However, in the subsequent squabbling over one rabbi's legitimacy, the Orthodox rabbinate inadvertently exposes the inherent cognitive dissonance prevalent in the contemporary Orthodox community.

Contemporary Orthodox Judaism tends to resist innovation and change as a matter of principle. Preserving the authentic tradition is the highest priority, especially when faced with potentially corrupting external influences. For just one example, when confronted with the question of mixed seating in the synagogues, R. Joseph B. Soloveitchik exhorted the Rabbinical Council of America to "be ready to fight for an undiluted Halachah which is often not in the vogue."¹ The problem of course is that Jewish history is replete with exactly such instances when common Jewish practice has changed, either through adapting existing practice or introducing new innovations.

Consider one such example from the liturgy. In the section of morning blessings, the same part of the service which includes shelo asani isha - virtually all sidduim contain the blessing ha-notein la'ya'ef koach - blessing God for giving strength to the weak. R. Yosef Karo (1488-1575) opposed not only the recitation of this blessing (O.H. 46:6), but the legitimacy of its very existence stating, "since it is not mentioned in the Talmud, I do not know how this person had permission to create it" (Beit Yosef O.H. 46:6). The difference between omitting a blessing and reciting an unauthorized one is substantial; in the former one only does not fulfill a rabbinic obligation (T. Berachot 6:18) but in the latter instance one violates a biblical prohibition of taking God's name in vain (Shemot 20:6, B. Berachot 33a). And yet for contemporary Judaism, one such liturgical change is accepted if not required, while the other is deemed unorthodox.

The methods of how Orthodox Judaism selectively incorporates or rejects changes is beyond the scope of this essay. However, there is a more fundamental question which can be extremely uncomfortable for most traditional Orthodox Jews: are the boundaries and definitions for acceptable Orthodox Judaism objective or subjective? Based on the sanctimony emanating from Orthodox Judaism it would be reasonable to assume the former. But if there are objective criteria for Orthodox Judaism, then this criteria must not only be defined and defended explicitly, but more importantly applied consistently to every instance. This would mean that even well established "traditional" opinions or rabbis who violate this criteria would have to be held accountable to this standard, and perhaps be reconsidered as beyond the scope of Orthodox Judaism.

On the other hand, if the criteria for Orthodox Judaism is subjective, meaning it is a floating target meant to include or exclude as a need arises, then Orthodox Judaism is as arbitrary as the other denominations which they criticize. Despite the rhetoric of preserving Torah, if the criteria is subjective, then Orthodox Judaism is so only because its adherents say so.

To paraphrase John Adams, the question which Orthodox Jews must inevitably confront is if it is a religion of laws or of men. If the former, then the laws must be applied universally to exclude that which violates it and to accept that which falls within its range of acceptability, regardless of a an individual's stature or affiliation. But if Orthodox Judaism is primarily defined by its community, then the arbitrariness would be justified, albeit at the expense of its alleged adherence to being shomerei Torah.

This question must be addressed by anyone who ventures into the debate as to what qualifies as "Orthodox Judaism." But from my own experience I have found that the Law provides its own answer and the Men provide theirs.

1. Soloveitchik, Joseph B. "Message to a Rabbinic Convention." The Sanctity of the Synagogue The Case for Mechitzah: Separation Between Men and Women in the Synagogue Ed. Baruch Litvin Ktav 1987. p. 109