Min haMuvhar

Some years ago, I read about a German Jew who established a "Jewish Nazi Society" during the 1930s. While Jews throughout Germany (and Europe in general) were facing horrible anti-Jewish persecutions, this Jewish man internalized the vicious anti-Semitic propaganda to such an extent that he also became a Jew-hater. Perhaps he thought that by identifying as a Nazi, he would be spared personally from the anti-Jewish persecutions. He wanted to be considered as "a good Jew" in the eyes of the Nazis, rather than be accounted among the "bad" Jews whom the Nazis were tormenting.

 I don't know what ultimately happened to the members of the "Jewish Nazi Society", but I doubt that they were spared by the Nazi hate machine. The Nazis hated Jews for having Jewish blood, regardless of their beliefs or political leanings. Jewish Nazis were just as despicable to Nazis as any other Jews. The Jewish Nazis were despised by Jews for their treachery; and despised by Nazis for their Jewishness.

These thoughts came to mind as I contemplated the phenomenon of Jews in our time who struggle to undermine Israel, and who identify themselves with those who strive to destroy the Jewish State. These individuals seem to suffer from the same psychological problems as members of the "Jewish Nazi Society" in Germany. Israel is constantly barraged by its enemies--through terrorism, economic boycotts, political isolation, anti-Israel propaganda, threats of war and nuclear destruction. To the enemies of Israel, the Jewish State is the object of blind, unmitigated hatred. The enemies use every possible forum to malign Israel and deny its legitimacy. This unceasing war against Israel is resisted courageously by the Jewish State, by Jewish supporters of Israel, by millions of non-Jewish supporters of Israel.

It is bizarre and morally repugnant that the one tiny Jewish country in the world has to suffer so much abuse. It is a matter of honor to stand up for Israel and to remind the world of the right of the Jews to their own homeland. We need to counter the attacks against Israel in every forum. We need to speak truth to combat the unceasing stream of lies heaped up against Israel.

Does this mean that we must agree with and condone everything that Israel does? Of course not. Israelis themselves are vocal in their criticisms of aspects of Israeli life and government policies. As long as criticisms are voiced with love, they should be welcome. They help shake the status quo and move things in a better direction. But criticism must be balanced with an appreciation of the amazingly impressive positive aspects of the Jewish State.

While fair and loving critics are vital to Israel's welfare, haters are destructive. Haters do not seek to improve Israel--they seek to destroy it. Their goal is not to encourage a vibrant, flourishing Jewish State--their goal is to eliminate the Jewish State. The hatred is so blind and so intense, that it is oblivious to facts and figures. For haters, Israel is guilty just by existing. It is particularly regrettable when people of Jewish ancestry align themselves with the haters. In some perverse way, they may think this separates them from the fate of Israel and the Jewish people--they think they will be viewed as "the good Jews" in contrast with the Zionists who are viewed as "the bad Jews". But such Jews are despised by Jews as traitors, and are despised (or mocked) by the haters of Israel--because after all, these hating Jews are still Jews! The enemies are happy to use such people for propaganda purposes; but if they were ever to succeed in their wicked designs, these hating Jews would not fare well. Their treachery to Israel and their fellow Jews would not make them beloved by the enemies of Jews and Israel.

We have read recently of Jewish haters/self-haters who have participated in-- and even spearheaded-- anti-Israel boycotts. We have read of Israeli professors/left wing intellectuals who have participated in anti-Israel programs on college campuses throughout the world. We have read columns by Jewish journalists that are so blatantly unfair to Israel that it makes us shudder. We have learned of Jewish groups and individuals who blame Israel for every ill suffered by Palestinians, even when most of the blame rests with the Palestinian leadership. We have heard Jewish voices decrying Israel's defense of its border with Gaza, even though the stated intent of Hamas is to murder and kidnap as many Israelis as possible...and ultimately to wipe Israel off the map.

For some critics, everyone in the world seems to have rights...except Jews. Every nation in the world has the right to defend its citizens...except Israel.  These are positions which must be repudiated by all fair-minded people. These are positions which most surely should be repudiated by the victims of such views...the Jews themselves.

Remembering Mom: Thoughts for Mother's Day

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel 

(Below is an essay I wrote, included in my book The Wisdom of Solomon and Us, Jewish Lights, 2016, pp. 135-138.)

My mother, Rachel Romey Angel, was born in 1914 in Seattle, Washington, the second of seven children born to Marco and Sultana Romey—both immigrants from Turkey. Although my grandparents were born and raised in Turkey, their first language was Judeo-Spanish, the language of the Sephardic Jews scattered throughout the former Ottoman Empire. My mother did not learn to speak English until she attended kindergarten in public school.

The Sephardic immigrants of Seattle came to America with little money and little formal education, but with a tremendous desire to make a new and better life for themselves and their families. The first generation immigrants worked at various trades; their children went on to own stores and other businesses; their grandchildren were nearly all university educated professionals and business people.

My mother was “only a girl.” In those days and in that society, it was assumed that girls would marry at an early age and have families of their own. Girls did not need much education, only basic domestic skills such as cooking and sewing. In the milieu of my mother’s childhood, it was highly unusual for a woman to attend university or to hold a serious job outside the home.

My mother was a brilliant student, but when she turned 16—the legal age that one was required to attend school—my grandfather told her she had to quit school and get a job to help support the family. Her older sister had done that and was working in a candy factory, and my grandfather wanted my mother to do likewise. My mother told her teachers at Garfield High School that she was going to be leaving school to go to work. One of the teachers was so distressed by this news that she spoke with my grandfather, urging him to let my mother graduate from high school. She told him that his daughter was a wonderful student with an excellent mind; if given the opportunity, she could attend university and do great things with her life. My grandfather replied: “she’s only a girl; she doesn’t need more education; she has to go to work and earn money.”

Thus ended my mother’s academic career. She never graduated from high school. She worked in the candy factory for a few years, got married at age 21, and went on to have four children, and eventually twelve grandchildren. She was a voracious reader, a deep thinker, and a keen observer of human nature. Neither her husband nor their close group of friends had a college graduate among them, so my mother was sort of a closet intellectual. She functioned happily and successfully in her world, but she kept her intellectual, philosophical side pretty much to herself. If she had been born two generations later, she would have been a university graduate, probably a Ph.D., and she would have had opportunities in academia, public life or business that were totally out of reach for her in her time and place.

Was my mother a success? Was she happy? Did she fulfill her mission in life? The answer to these questions depends on how we evaluate success, happiness and fulfillment in life. If we deem someone successful, happy and fulfilled if she earned a good income, lived a prosperous life, earned an academic degree, and held responsible positions in professional life—then my mother did not meet these requirements.

But my mother was a remarkable woman. She was a loyal daughter, devoted wife, loving mother and grandmother, gracious hostess, excellent friend. She was a profound thinker, an avid reader, a talented knitter. She enjoyed the simple pleasures of life. She was good and kind, thoughtful, and highly principled. If measured by standards of quality rather than quantity, my mother was eminently successful, happy and fulfilled in life.

When King Solomon praises the “woman of valor,” he refers to the virtues of being a good wife and mother, a hard-worker on behalf of her family, a generous soul who is charitable and kind. The Hebrew word for valor, hayyil, has the connotation of strength and courage. The “ideal” woman is not identified as being passive and obedient, but rather as having a strong character focused on her life’s values and goals.

When reading the last passages of Mishlei today, one is struck by how much society has changed in recent generations. Women today have far more opportunities in education, professions, public life and business than had been true for women in many societies of the past. But this success has also come with trade-offs. In pursuing careers, women may defer or forego the joys of a solid marriage, child-rearing, and being full-time mothers. Are the modern “liberated” women more successful, happier, and more fulfilled than the women of my mother’s pattern of life? In some ways, yes; in other ways, probably not.

I remember reading somewhere that in our modern society a woman is considered creative if she produces a piece of sculpture or operates her own business. But if a woman is “merely” a mother who creates children, shapes their lives, and sees to it that they can lead happy and good lives, she is labeled somewhat pejoratively as “only being a housewife.” A full-time wife and mother is deemed to be on a lower level than women who devote their energies to professional or business life.

If my mother had been given more opportunities to develop her intellect and talents, she would have had a significant impact on many people beyond her immediate circle of family and friends. She would have been gratified to learn more and teach more, and to play a greater role in the larger society. She would have been very happy to have many of the opportunities which were available to her own daughter, daughters-in-law and granddaughters.

But having said that, her own life evaluated in its own context was a remarkably happy, meaningful and successful adventure. She was grateful for what she had and what she was able to achieve. She was beautiful and graceful; she feared the Lord; she loved and was loved; she raised and inspired her children; she left an indelible impact on her grandchildren. “She shall be praised.”

At least since the sixteenth century, Purim celebrations have included costumes and masquerade parties. Various explanations have been given.

The Purim story is replete with surprises. Things are not what they initially seem to be. Esther pretends not to be Jewish and masquerades as a Persian Queen. Mordecai wears sackcloth and ashes but is later dressed up as viceroy to the king. The king appears to be all powerful but he is an indecisive hedonist who allots real power to others. Haman seems to be in control but ends up being hanged on a tree on which he had hoped to hang Mordecai. When the Jews ultimately prevail, many of their one time enemies were “mityahadim,” appearing to be Jews themselves. Even God, whose name is not mentioned in Megillat Esther, seems to be hiding.

Masquerade: wearing a costume, playing a role, pretending to be someone other than yourself, hiding your true identity.

Masquerade: putting on a mask, camouflaging reality, creating false illusions.

Once a year, on Purim, Jews indulge in games of make believe, where the line between reality and illusion is blurred. Many other groups similarly have a day (or more) for masquerade balls and parades. Somehow, letting down our guard on one day enables us to face reality squarely all the other days of the year.

In describing the impact of a mask on its wearer, Elias Canetti notes: “As long as he wears it he is two things, himself and the mask…Because it can be torn away, its wearer is bound to fear for it. He must take care that he does not lose it; it must never be dropped and must never open. He feels every kind of anxiety about what may happen to it….He must manipulate it, remaining his everyday self, and, at the same time, must change into it as a performer. While he wears the mask he is thus two people and must remain two during the whole of his performance” (Crowds and Power, Seabury Press, NY, 1978, p. 377).

One wearing a mask wishes to preserve the illusion of being someone else. Being unmasked would ruin everything. So the mask wearer tries to protect the illusion by staying in control of the mask. No one must be allowed to get past the mask. The mask wearer becomes two people: the real self and the play actor wearing a mask.

But what happens if the mask wearer comes to identify totally with the mask?

Much human tragedy is the result of people forgetting who they are at root; they don various masks and personae, pretending to be what they in fact are not. They may imagine that they can only be successful or happy if they adopt a certain persona, if they betray their selves for the sake of winning the approval of others. The psychiatrist, Dr. Arno Gruen, has pointed out: “We establish irrational ideals of the ‘real’ man and the ‘right kind’ of woman, which not only separate us more and more from our genuine potentialities, but in the long run also lead us into self-destructiveness” (The Betrayal of the Self, Grove Press, NY, 1988, p. 60).

People, in their desire to be popular, often end up play-acting. They dress, speak, laugh, socialize—the way they expect that others want them to dress, speak, laugh and socialize. To gain approval, they will wear whatever mask they think will advance them.

Happily, many people are authentic, natural and good. They strive not to wear masks, not to pose as someone other than who they are. When they do feel that they are acting artificially, they are wise enough to catch themselves.

But so many others seem to be play-acting; they pretend to be what they are not; they create an image of themselves and want others to think that the image is true. Perceptive people can see through the mask; they pity the mask-wearers who must spend so much energy trying to live up to a false image of themselves. The mask-wearers are terrified by those who would unmask them.

Masquerades are fine if one realizes that they are infrequent descents into fantasy. Masquerades are destructive if the mask-wearers cease to distinguish between themselves and their masks.

Purim is a reminder that there is a fine line between reality and illusion. Blurring that line once a year underscores how easily one might lose sight of truth and authenticity. But after the day of masquerading, we are supposed to have come to a better understanding of who we are under the mask…and who we are when we don’t wear masks.

Is having a natural birth advisable, inadvisable, or a value-free decision?

Natural childbirth generally refers to going through labor and delivery without aid of medications and pain relievers such as epidurals. Each woman needs to decide what would be best for herself. Prime consideration must be for her own health and the healthy delivery of her baby. For some women, natural childbirth is a wonderful experience, especially if they had taken suitable classes during pregnancy. Others, though, will prefer to benefit from the advances in medicine that diminish pain.

Natural childbirth classes generally want the father, as well as the mother, to prepare for the upcoming birth. It is advised that the husband be with his wife throughout the labor and delivery.

Although some have raised halakhic objections to a husband’s presence, Rabbi Haim David Halevy, late Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv, offered halakhic justification (Asei Lekha Rav 4:58). Modern research has found that the husband's presence can indeed be helpful to his wife during delivery. Although our mothers and grandmothers were perfectly able to have children without their husbands being present, it is possible that contemporary women may feel the absolute need for their husbands to be present during delivery. Without their husbands there, the women of today may feel that they will suffer greater pain and will be in greater danger. Therefore, for women who feel this way, Rabbi Halevy believes that the husbands should be present in the delivery room since this is a matter bordering on pikuah nefesh, saving another person's life.

Is it ever appropriate to get drunk?

The Talmud (Megillah 7b) quotes Rava’s opinion that one must become drunk on Purim so as to be unable to tell the difference between “cursed be Haman” and “blessed be Mordecai.” But the same passage goes on to report that Rabba and Rav Zeira became so drunk on Purim that Rabba slaughtered Rav Zeira with a knife. The latter was revived only by a miracle. When Rabba invited Rav Zeira to a Purim celebration the following year, Rav Zeira wisely declined.

Some people read this passage but stop right after Rava’s opinion that one must become drunk on Purim. Others correctly read the entire passage and recognize that the anecdote is a blatant refutation of Rava. The Talmud’s lesson is: don’t get drunk; terrible things can happen if you become intoxicated.

Drunkenness is a shameful state. Maimonides (Hilkhot De’ot 5:3) states: “One who becomes intoxicated is a sinner and is despicable, and loses his wisdom. If he [a wise person] becomes drunk in the presence of common folk, he has thereby desecrated the Name.” In his section on the Laws of Holiday Rest (6:20), Maimonides rules: “When one eats, drinks and celebrates on a festival, he should not allow himself to become overly drawn to drinking wine, amusement and silliness…for drunkenness and excessive amusement and silliness are not rejoicing; they are frivolity and foolishness.”

Not only does drunkenness impair one’s judgment, it demeans a person in the eyes of others and in the eyes of God.

Should a frum Jew believe the sun goes around Earth if the Rambam says it does?

In his “Letter on Astrology,” Rambam taught a vital lesson:  “A person should never cast reason behind, for the eyes are set in front—not in back.” He insisted on the pursuit of truth. As a philosopher and scientist himself, Rambam brilliantly applied the best knowledge of his time to the understanding of Torah.

Our knowledge today has been dramatically enhanced by centuries of scientific advances.  We now know that the earth orbits the sun, as do the other planets. We now know that the earth is a tiny planet in a vast galaxy, which itself is only one of many galaxies in the universe. There is no credible controversy over these facts. If Rambam were alive today, he would not cast his reason behind; he would embrace new knowledge with the alacrity of a brilliant mind.

I think Rambam would be deeply embarrassed by those who posit that the sun goes around the earth based on Rambam’s own writings. Such obscurantists lock themselves into medieval scientific thought rather than opening their minds to the ongoing advances in science. One of the great dangers for religion—and for human progress in general—is for people to cling to discredited theories and outdated knowledge. Those who cast reason behind, thereby cast truth behind. And Truth is the seal of the Almighty.

Rabbi Dr. Sabato Morais (April 13, 1823-November 11, 1897) was described by a New York Yiddish newspaper as “without doubt…the greatest of all Orthodox rabbis in the United States.” This encomium was written several years after the death of Morais, when a full picture of his life and accomplishments could be written with historical perspective.

Few today remember this remarkable religious leader; even fewer see him as a model of enlightened Orthodox Judaism whose example might be followed by modern day Jews. Yet, Sabato Morais was a personality who deserves our attention…and our profound respect.

Born in Livorno, of Portuguese-Jewish background, he was raised in the Sephardic traditions of his community. As a young rabbi, he became the Director of the Orphan’s School of the Spanish and Portuguese Congregation of London where he served for five years. In 1851, he began service as rabbi of Congregation Mikveh Israel, the historic Spanish and Portuguese Synagogue of Philadelphia. He remained with Mikveh Israel for nearly five decades, until his death toward the end of 1897.

Rabbi Dr. Alan Corre, who served as rabbi of Mikveh Israel from 1955 to 1963, wrote an appreciation of his early predecessor. He noted that “in everything he [Morais] writes and does, he comes across as a warm, loving, eminently humane individual, with self-respect, yet remarkably free of egotism for a man in public life who was the recipient of much honor, including an honorary degree from the University of Pennsylvania.” Rabbi Morais sought “to live as a Jew without qualifiers, one who revered and loved the Jewish tradition and desired greatly to perpetuate it.”

Dr. Corre has pointed out that Rabbi Morais is somewhat of an enigma to many, in the sense that he cannot be easily classified according to the ideologies and styles of the major branches of American Jewish life today. “Orthodox as he was in practice, he does not fulfill the role model of the Talmudic sage, and has about him a somewhat assimilated air at which the strictly Orthodox might well look askance. For the Conservative, he is insufficiently innovative, to unwilling to take religious risks. And of Reform, he was a life-long opponent.”

Rabbi Morais was a fine representative of the Western Sephardic rabbinic tradition of his time. Western Sephardim valued general culture, refinement, orderliness, social responsibility. They fostered a Judaism that was loyal to traditional ritual, while at the same time being worldly and intellectually open. Personal piety was to be humble, not ostentatious.

Rabbi Morais wrote: “True worship resides in the heart, and truly it is by purifying our hearts that we best worship God; still, the ordinances which we are enjoined to perform aim at this object: to sanctify our immortal soul, to make it worthy of its sublime origin.”

He laid great stress on ethical behavior, on compassion, on concern for others. He worked not only on behalf of the Jewish community, but showed concern for society as a whole. He was a vocal opponent of slavery and an avid admirer of President Abraham Lincoln. He supported the cause of American Indians; he spoke against the Chinese Exclusion Acts during the 1880s. He cried out against the persecution of Armenians in 1895. Working together with Jewish and non-Jewish clergy, he fostered an ecumenical outlook that called for all people to respect each other and to work for shared goals to improve the quality of life for everyone. In all of his work, Rabbi Morais did not seek glory or public recognition. He was compassionate, graceful and idealistic. Perhaps it was his self-effacing style that won him so much admiration and respect from so many. They saw him as an authentic religious personality, not as one who was serving his own ego.

Arthur Kiron, in a fascinating article that appeared in “American Jewish History,” September 1996, observed that “those who knew and loved Morais repeatedly referred to him in their memorial tributes in idealized terms, as a religious role model, a prophet like Jeremiah, a man of constancy, duty, absolute sincerity, piety and humility.”

One of Morais’s memorializers described him as follows: “For the critical eye of man [Morais] has left behind no visible monuments of great achievements, but to the eye of God he has reared a monument far greater than any of those famed by man. That greatness was his goodness, which in point of intrinsic merit will compare with the greatest wonders of genius. Were it possible for man to measure the amount of good he dispensed among the sorrowing and afflicted…the historian would not hesitate to enroll his name among the world’s truest and noblest immortals….To do good was the first duty of his creed, to do it in silence always, and in secrecy wherever possible, was his second.”

Rabbi Morais and his New York colleague Rabbi Henry Pereira Mendes were co-founders of the Jewish Theological Seminary. They had hoped that this institution would train American-born Orthodox rabbis to lead congregations throughout America. These two rabbis of the Spanish and Portuguese Congregations of Philadelphia and New York worked closely on other communal projects, always in a spirit of devotion to God and community. They both sought to promote a Judaism loyal to tradition, committed to social justice, marked by dignity and gravitas.

Orthodoxy of today is often characterized by increasing narrowness, obscurantism, authoritarianism, and xenophobia. Orthodox rabbis of the ilk of Rabbi Morais are a vanishing breed. The classic Western Sephardic religious worldview is on the verge of extinction. What a phenomenal loss this is for Judaism and the Jewish People!

Yet, as we remember the life of Rabbi Sabato Morais, we know that the memory of the righteous is a blessing. It continues to influence and inspire. The stature and vision of Rabbi Morais will emerge to guide new generations in an Orthodox Judaism that is faithful to tradition, cultured, refined, genuinely pious, humane, and humble. “Happy the man who has found wisdom, the man who has obtained understanding.”

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

When I served as President of the Rabbinical Council of America (1990-92), I asked Rabbi Moshe Tendler to develop a health care proxy for the RCA, that would take into consideration issues relating to halakhic organ donation. An internationally renowned authority in halakha and medical ethics, Rabbi Tendler concluded that brain-stem death constitutes halakhic (as well as medical) death; that organ donation is permissible and praiseworthy according to halakha; that Jews faithful to halakha should arrange for a health care proxy form, that will assure that decisions will be made in consultation with proper medical and halakhic authority.

Rabbi Tendler's report and health care proxy form were discussed at an RCA convention, as well as in other study forums sponsored by the RCA. There was substantial controversy at the time, but the consensus of the RCA rabbis was to adopt Rabbi Tendler's position and to issue a health care proxy form in line with his recommendations. In spite of strong pressure from right-wing Orthodox groups, and intense opposition from some rabbis within the RCA, we succeeded in making a decision that was halakhically and medically sound, that provided for halakhic organ donation that could save lives. This was, to my mind, a very proud moment for the RCA. It demonstrated that the modern Orthodox rabbinate was capable of making an important decision in a responsible way--and that it had the courage to withstand external--and internal--pressures.

Once we took our position, the attacks on the RCA's decision increased. I wrote an article for Jewish Action Magazine, published by the Orthodox Union, that I reprint below, presenting our arguments in favor of our position.

During the past few years, a committee of the RCA has revisited the issue of halakhic definition of death and the permissibility of organ donation. The committee recently issued its lengthy report. While not taking a formal position, the report backed away from the RCA's previous stance, and seems to tilt away from the brain-stem death definition of death. By not upholding the earlier position of the RCA, the current RCA leadership has decided it was most prudent for the RCA not to make such important decisions for the public, but to back away from taking a formal stand. The modern Orthodox rabbinate has again shown itself unable or unwilling to assume halakhic leadership and responsibility. It would prefer to straddle the fence, and let others make the important and controversial decisions.

An important article on "Death by Neurological Criteria" by Dr. Noam Stadlan offers a critique of the RCA's new report. It is available at torahmusings.com, and I recommend it highly. I also suggest that readers visit the website of the HOD Society for more information on the topic.

My article, going back to spring 1992, is printed below. I believe that the basic points of that article continue to be valid today. It reflects an optimism I had then about modern Orthodox rabbinic decision-making--an optimism which has been much dampened in recent years.

THE RCA HEALTH CARE PROXY
PROVIDING RESPONSIBLE HALAKHIC
LEADERSHIP TO OUR COMMUNITY

WHAT IS A HEALTH CARE PROXY?

A person, Heaven forbid, may become critically ill and be physically or mentally incapable of responding to doctors’ questions concerning continued treatment. Who then will have the right to make these life and death decisions? If an individual has prepared a health care proxy form, the person named in that form as his proxy would be empowered to make these decisions. If an individual has not designated a proxy, the medical staff will decide.
Obviously, a Jew who wishes such decisions to be made in consonance with halakhah should appoint a trusted person to be his or her health care proxy and should prepare the necessary health care proxy form. Federal law now requires health care providers to inform patients of their right to a health care proxy.
Religious Jews should utilize this right to assure that their treatment will conform to halakhic standards.

The Rabbinical Council of America has issued a health care proxy form, prepared by Rabbi Dr. Moshe Tendler, Chairman of the RCA’s Medical Ethics Commission. Members of the RCA have received a copy of the health care proxy, as well as material relating to the medical and halakhic issues involved. A Yom Iyyun was held on November 21, 1991, which included presentations by Rabbi Tendler and two world-renowned medical experts—Dr. Dominick Purpura, Dean of the Albert Einstein Medical College of Yeshiva University and Professor of Neurology; and Dr. Fred Plum, head of the Department of Neurology of the New York Hospital and Cornell University Medical College. The RCA has taken the responsible position of responding to a pressing communal need, providing vital information to the rabbis of the RCA so that they might guide their congregants wisely.

THE BRAIN-STEM DEATH ISSUE

A significant feature of the RCA health care proxy form is that it accepts brain-stem death as the definition of death.
This definition allows for the possibility of transplants of vital organs. Organs may, with the proper permission and safeguards, be taken from brain-stem dead individuals and transplanted to save the lives of others.

When the brain-stem dies, a fact that can be determined with absolute certainty by means of various tests, a person no longer can breathe independently—the brain-stem controls respiration, as well as other vital life processes. Brain-stem death includes respiration death and is irreversible.
At the RCA Yom Iyyun, Dr. Purpura and Dr. Plum both indicated that the brain-stem death definition today is accepted universally in the medical world. It is policy in all fifty states of the United States. It is defined specifically and can be determined with complete accuracy.

Dr. Purpura, in his lecture to the RCA, pointed out the historical background relating to brain-stem death. Ancient teachers thought that life was centered in the heart and that the brain was useless. By the mid-seventeenth century, researchers discovered that the brain controlled various aspects of the body. During the past several centuries, it has become clear that the brain is the center of life, that it controls all aspects of the living organism. Modern research has demonstrated how each part of the brain controls specific functions, with the brain-stem controlling respiration and other vital functions.
The brain simply cannot be equated with other vital organs. It is unique. Our brain defines who we are.

WHAT BRAIN-STEM DEATH IS NOT

Much of the confusion surrounding the brain-stem definition of death derives from the popular, unscientific use of the phrase “brain death.” If a person is in a deep coma, if his upper brain is not functioning, if he is in a persistent vegetative state—he is not brain dead. Death occurs only with the death of the brain-stem, not with the non-functioning of the upper brain.

THE HALAKHIC BASIS
The brain-stem definition of death was accepted by the Chief Rabbinate in Israel after thorough discussions with halakhic and medical authorities. The text of the Chief Rabbinate’s decision was published in Tehumin in 5746 (1986) and in English translation in Tradition, Summer, 1989. Based on this decision of the Chief Rabbis, organ transplants do take place in Israel under halakhic supervision. Rabbi Shaul Yisraeli, in evaluating the issues involved, concluded that the decision of the Chief Rabbinate was sound and that the arguments of opponents were halakhically unfounded (Barkai, Spring 5747, pp. 32—41).
Rabbi Moshe Feinstein already had accepted the brain-stem definition of death in a responsum dated 5736 (1976). He ruled that when a patient showed no signs of life—e.g. no movement or response to stimuli—then the total cessation of independent respiration is an absolute proof that death has occurred (Iggerot Moshe, Yoreh De’ah, 3:132). If a person cannot breathe any longer due to brain-stem death, then a respirator attached to the person is merely pumping air into a dead body. Even if the heart continues to beat, the person is deemed to be dead. Indeed, after death, it is possible for individual organs to move spasmodically. Rambam, in his commentary on Mishnah Aholot 1:6, discusses the case of decapitation, and notes that pirkhus, movement of limbs after death, is not to be construed as a sign of life. Rabbi Moshe Tendler has referred to brain- stem death as “physiological decapitation.” With the death of the brain-stem, the control center of breathing and other vital functions has been cut off totally and irreversibly.

In a letter dated May 24, 1976, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein wrote to Assemblyman Herbert J. Miller, Chairman of the New York State Assembly Committee on Health. Rabbi Feinstein stated clearly, “The sole criterion of death is the total cessation of spontaneous respiration. . . the total cessation of independent respiration is an absolute proof that death has occurred.”

Opponents of the brain-stem death definition have attempted to confuse the public as to Rabbi Feinstein’s position. Although they are free to disagree with Rabbi Feinstein’s pesak, it is unconscionable that they should try to misrepresent his clear and consistent view, i.e. that brain-stem death is the true definition of death. Rabbi Mordechai Halperin (Assia, December 1989) researched the issue carefully and concluded that the evidence was clear that Rabbi Feinstein definitely accepted the brain-stem death definition. This position was confirmed by Dr. Ira Greifer of the Albert Einstein Medical College, who had spent several days discussing the issue in great detail with Rabbi Feinstein. Rabbi Feinstein’s acceptance of the brain-stem death definition also was confirmed by others who had discussed the question with him. In short, the RCA health care proxy is corroborated by the authoritative decisions of Rabbi Moshe Feinstein and the Chief Rabbinate of Israel. It is based on the very best scientific knowledge available.

SOME IMPLICATIONS
Those who reject the brain-stem death definition consider it murder to remove vital organs from a person who is brain stem dead, but whose heart is still beating. The implication of this position is that organ transplantation is forbidden. A doctor would not be allowed to remove vital organs from the brain-stem dead body; nor would it be ethical for a patient to benefit from an organ which had been the result of “murder.” I asked a rabbi of my acquaintance who opposes the brain stem definition of death what he would rule if a Jewish doctor asked him whether he could remove the heart of a brain-stem dead body to save the life of another person. The rabbi answered: “Let the doctor rely on Rabbi Tendler!” When I pressed the matter, insisting that he give the pesak and not defer to others, he refused to do so. In other words, he publicly went on record opposing the RCA position; and yet, privately, if confronted with a life and death situation he would rely on the RCA [i.e. Rabbi Tendler's] position.

Rabbi Mordekhai Eliyahu, in a recent discussion with the RCA, told us that a number of rabbis who publicly oppose the Chief Rabbinate’s ruling, nevertheless send their friends and relatives to receive organ transplants—organs which can be taken only from a brain-stem dead body. Several leading rabbis from Israel recently issued a brief statement opposing the brain-stem death definition. We have politely requested a responsum, fully argued and reasoned, so that we might study the basis of their pesak. No reply has been forthcoming to date.

Unfortunately, the brain-stem death issue has become a matter of public controversy and confusion. Since life and death decisions hinge on this matter, it is imperative that the public have lucid and accurate information. People may choose to follow the RCA’s decision—based on the finest halakhic and scientific authority—or they may choose to reject it. There are serious arguments in opposition to the RCA’s position, but everyone should understand what the case for the RCA is and should not misrepresent its position.

People should not intellectualize and abstract the issue; rather, they should see it in personal terms. If a loved one, Heaven forbid, needed an organ transplant in order to live, would you rely on the RCA decision to allow transplants from brain-stem dead bodies? Or would you let the loved one die? Or would you choose the morally repugnant position of allowing the transplant even though you believed that halakhically it entailed murder?
The RCA position is not only well-founded on halakhic and scientific authority. It also is humane, responsible and compassionate. It is a demonstration of responsible halakhic and moral leadership to our community.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Rabbinic Statement Regarding Organ Donation

We, the undersigned Orthodox rabbis and rashei yeshiva affirm the following principles with regard to organ donation and brain stem death:
First and foremost, the halakhic definition of death is a long-standing debate amongst gedolei ha-poskim, and it should not be forgotten that, among others in the U.S. and Israel, the former Chief Rabbis of Israel, R. Avraham Shapira and R. Mordechai Eliyahu, zikhronam li’vracha, and, yibadel li’chayim, Rav Gedalia Dov Schwartz, the av beis din of the Beit Din of America, are strong proponents of the position that brain stem death constitutes the halakhic definition of death.
Both positions, that brain stem death constitutes death, and that only cardiac death can define death, are halakhically viable. This remains so even in light of the findings of the President’s Council on Bioethics in 2008.
With regard to this long-standing debate, and its critical implications for organ donation, we affirm our position that:

1. Brain stem death is a halakhically operational definition of death. As such, organs may be removed for transplantation under strict halakhic supervision and guidance.
2. In light of the serious moral issues and profound lifesaving potential presented by the possibility of organ donation, we strongly recommend that rabbis who are rendering decisions for their laity on this matter demonstrate a strong predisposition to accept the halakhic view of the gedolei haposkim who define the moment of halakhic death to be that of brain stem death, or that they refer their laity to rabbis who do so.

3. Even as we adopt the brain stem definition of death, we emphasize that the greatest of care is needed in applying this definition in practice, and that safeguards are necessary to insure the organ removal is done in accordance with halakhic principles. Each person should consult with his or her rabbi and appropriate medical professionals to understand how this determination of death is made, and how to ensure that the appropriate procedures will be in place.

4. Rabbis and laity who follow the position that brain stem death is not considered to be halakhic death should be aware that it is medically possible to donate certain body parts after cardiac death and that it is a mitzvah to do so. Thus,

<>a.It is both halakhically permissible and desirable and ethically mandated for every Jew to be an organ donor consistent with his or her definition of halakhic death.

<>b.Rabbis and community leaders must do all in their power to communicate this responsibility to the community, and to encourage all Jews to sign organ donor cards, in line with their halakhic definition of death.

5. To adopt a restrictive position regarding donating organs and a permissive position regarding receiving organs is morally untenable. Such an approach is also highly damaging to the State of Israel, both internally and in regards to its relationship with the larger world, and to the Jewish People as a whole. This approach must thus be unequivocally rejected by Jews at the individual and the communal level.

Signed:

R. Shlomo Riskin, Efrat, Israel

R. Yuval Cherlow, Petach Tikva, Israel

R. Binny Lau, Jerusalem, Israel

R. Yoel Bin Nun, Israel

R. David Bigman, Ma’ale Gilboa, Israel

R. Yehudah Gilad, Ma’ale Gilboa, Israel

R. Binyamin Walfish, Jerusalem, Israel

R. Dr. Avraham Walfish. Israel

R. Herzl Hefter, Jerusalem, Israel

R. Haskel Lookstein, NewYork NY

R. Yosef Adler, Teaneck, NJ

R. Dov Linzer, Riverdale, NY

R. Avi Weiss, Riverdale, NY

R. Barry Gelman, Houston, TX

R. Asher Lopatin, Chicago, IL

R. Yosef Kanefsky, Los Angeles, CA

R. Benjy Samuels, Newton, MA

R. Chaim Marder, White Plains, NY

R. Yaakov Love, Passaic, NJ

R. Nati Helfgot, Teaneck, NJ

R. Ysoscher Katz, New York, NY

R. Marc Angel, New York, NY

R. Hayyim Angel, NY

Is it appropriate for a man to wear cologne?

The Talmud (Berakhot 43b) and Rambam (Hilkhot De’ot 5:9) indicate the impropriety of Torah sages “going abroad while scented.” Perhaps such behavior was deemed to be too hedonistic or effeminate; perhaps it could have led people to suspect inappropriate behavior.

Attitudes have changed dramatically over the centuries. In our times, it is fairly common for men to use after shave lotion or cologne, and few—if any—would deem this to be hedonistic, effeminate or suggestive of immoral conduct. An industry study of several years ago found that 63% of American men aged 18-64 wear fragrances at least occasionally, with 23% indicating they use it all the time. In many cases, the scents are used as antiperspirants. Or they simply make the man feel more cheerful or more presentable.

Using colognes/scents is a personal decision which affects each man and those with whom he has regular contact at home or work. It is appropriate to let each man decide what is best for himself and his immediate family and friends.

Is it ever appropriate for a husband to put his foot down with his wife or a wife with her husband?  (Or is compromise the answer no matter what the issue is?)

Husbands and wives must always strive to deal with each other with love, respect, patience…and a good sense of humor. They must be able to communicate their feelings and their needs, and must be sure that their spouse genuinely listens and understands. With these ingredients, couples will be able to negotiate almost every area of conflict. Almost…but not all.

Sometimes there are deep differences that cannot simply be ignored or laughed away. But when such differences arise, authoritarian attitudes seldom result in satisfactory conclusions. You don’t “put your foot down” if you treat your spouse as an equal partner in marriage. On the other hand, compromises are not always workable or appropriate.

If a couple cannot reach a satisfactory resolution to their differences, they should consult their rabbi or a marriage counselor. It sometimes is helpful to have a trusted professional help the couple work through the issues and come to a mutually acceptable way forward.

The goal is not to have either spouse say: “I won, you lost.” The goal is for both to be able to say: “We won.”

  Should a person daven a long Shemoneh Esrei if others around him might consider him arrogant (or holier than thou) as a result?

A person should pray humbly and sincerely. Proper prayer puts one into relationship with the Almighty; it is a sacred time, a quiet and transformative time.

When one prays, one focuses on being in the presence of Hashem.

True religiosity is marked by personal, private devotion. Yuhara—pretentiousness—is a violation of the essence of religious experience. Tradition speaks of 36 hidden righteous people upon whom the world depends. They live piously and inconspicuously. They do not seek—or want—to flaunt their piety.

When one prays Shemoneh Esrei (or any other parts of the service) one should do so in a way that combines these two principles: 1) sincere personal outpouring of heart; 2) inconspicuous devotion.

One should pray Shemoneh Esrei as long as it takes for him or her to do so properly. No one should stand in judgment of how much time another person takes for his or her prayer.

If a person is the rabbi or shaliah tsibbur of the congregation, he should not elongate his prayer so as not to cause excessive delay to the worshipers. But a private individual may take as much time as needed, as long as he/she does not disturb other congregants.

If a person is indeed trying to appear “holier than thou” let Hashem be the judge. We are better off concentrating on our own prayers and not worrying about how long it takes for our neighbor to complete the Shemoneh Esrei.

Should you give money to a panhandler on the street (or a subways car) if you have no idea if the person really needs it or not (e.g., he may take the money to buy drugs)?

The mitzvah of giving charity has two goals. One is to provide assistance to the recipient. The other is to develop a charitable personality in the donor. Ideally, both goals are accomplished when one generously gives to a genuinely needy person.

When one is asked for funds from an unknown individual, a charitable person will tend to donate without asking questions about how the recipient will use the charity.

When one is asked for funds from someone of dubious character, even a charitable person might choose not to donate. Why give one’s hard earned money to someone who may be a con artist, or a drunk, or a drug addict? The dilemma is exacerbated when there are so many requests from beggars on the streets and subways. It is natural to become mistrustful and to avoid giving alms to such individuals.

We should give charity when we feel it will genuinely help the recipients; and when we feel that our donation will help us in our own moral development. When in doubt, it’s best to err on the side of being too charitable.

Rabbi Marc D. Angel replies to questions from The Jewish Press

Is it proper, l’chatchilah, for a young married couple to apply for government welfare programs like food stamps and section 8?

Rambam wrote (Hilkhot De’ot 5:11): “The way of sensible men is for one first to establish an occupation by which he can support himself. Then, he should purchase a residence and then, marry a wife…In contrast, a fool begins by marrying a wife. Then, if he can find the means, he purchases a house. Finally, late in life, he will search for a trade or support himself from charity.”

Rambam assumed that a couple will first be sure that they have the financial wherewithal to manage their married lives. This was—and remains—excellent advice. In situations of genuine poverty, though, it may be necessary for young couples to receive support from family and friends.

If poor couples are genuinely without financial resources and are legally entitled to government assistance, then they may draw on this aid as a last resort.

I have heard of cases, though, where young couples live in a nice home, drive a nice car, dress and eat very nicely…and are supported generously by parents or others. Their personal earnings are below the poverty level, even though they definitely do not live in poverty. The government welfare system was established to assist the genuinely needy; to take these funds on any other basis is fraudulent.  People say: others exploit the system, why shouldn’t we? The answer is given by the Torah: ve’asita hayashar vehatov; the Almighty commands us to do that which is upright and proper. Any other behavior is an affront to the teachings of Torah.

Is it proper for a Jew to propose on one knee?

The practice of a man proposing marriage by bending on one knee seems to be a fairly modern phenomenon. We read of medieval knights who bent onto a knee in reverence to their beloved, and this old practice may have spilled over into more general society. But until relatively modern times, marriage proposals (Jewish and non-Jewish) were more business-like. Shadchanim and parents often arranged the “proposal.”

The image of a man bending on one knee to propose marriage has been a feature of modern romance novels and films. If a couple wants to follow this pattern, that is entirely up to them.

Couples will decide for themselves when and how to commit themselves to marriage. It’s proper for the rest of us to mind our own business, and not worry whether the man bends on one knee or not.

Let brides and grooms rejoice, tirbena semahot beyisrael.

At what age would you advise parents to allow their children to have a cell phone?

I would advise parents to use their own judgment. They know their children best. They know if, why and when a cell phone is important to their children. They know if their children are responsible enough to use the cell phone properly.

Often, the child’s first cell phone is granted because the parents want to have a ready line of communication. They want their children to be able to contact them promptly in case of an emergency.

There are various cell phones available, with various features. Before obtaining a cell phone for their children, parents should choose the age-appropriate phone that meets the specific needs of each child.

From a hashkafic perspective, is it important for a Jewish man to have a beard?

It really depends on one’s own hashkafa. Some men feel that beards are a sign of being more traditionally religious; some grow beards because that’s what is expected of men in their community. Some men feel more comfortable without a beard.  Let each man decide for himself.

Over the years, I have known many fine Jewish men with long beards, short beards and no beards. I have also known many less than fine Jewish men with long beards, short beards and no beards. What is important is not the beard, but the person. A fine Torah true Jew is a wonderful human being, with or without a beard.

My late father-in-law, Rabbi Paul Schuchalter of blessed memory, used to quip that it's better to have a rabbi without a beard than a beard without a rabbi. It would be even better if rabbis were not judged by their beards (or lack thereof) but by their Torah learning, compassion, love of their people, love of humanity. Judge rabbis by their words and deeds, not by their beards. What’s true for rabbis is true for Jewish men in general.

It is important to avoid stereotyping men based on whether they have full, trimmed or no beards.

How does one let go of a grudge against a person who harmed him or her egregiously?

Many years ago, my father—alav hashalom—was involved in a business transaction with a man he had known all his life, both being members of the same synagogue.This man cheated my father egregiously, causing him serious financial loss.

Years later, I received a call from my father. The man who had swindled my father was planning to be in New York for Rosh Hashana. My father asked me to arrange a seat for him in my synagogue and invite him to lunch. I was stunned. I asked my father: “This man cheated you and betrayed you. Why would you want to extend any kindness to him?”

My father replied: “What’s past is past. It’s no good to carry grudges. Life is too short to waste our emotional energy on anger or holding grudges.” And so, I arranged a seat for this man in my synagogue and invited him to lunch. 

My father taught me an important lesson. Carrying grudges is not productive, not healthy, and not necessary. Grudges hurt the “grudger” more than the “grudgee.”

Rambam taught (Hilkhot Teshuva 2:10): “When a sinner asks forgiveness, one should grant it with a full heart and willing soul. Even if the other had sinned greatly against him and caused him much anguish, he should not take revenge or bear a grudge.”

My father taught that one should not bear a grudge…even if the culprit doesn’t ask for forgiveness. I might have thought this was an impossible expectation. But my father proved it could be done…and should be done.

When I think back on my years at Yeshiva College (1963-67), I am forever grateful for having studied with a number of truly remarkable professors. One of the best was Dr. Louis H. Feldman (October 29, 1926-March 25, 2017).

Dr. Feldman taught classical languages. He had very few students—there were four of us in my Latin class. When I registered for Latin, one of the upper classmen warned me: Feldman is a very tough teacher; you should avoid him if you can. But instead of discouraging me, that warning whetted my curiosity. Who was this Dr. Feldman who had such a daunting reputation?

Wikipedia offers a short biographical sketch: “Feldman received his undergraduate degree (as valedictorian) from Trinity College, Hartford, CT in 1946 and his master’s degree the following year. In 1951, he received his doctoral degree in philology from Harvard University for his dissertation Cicero’s Concept of Historiography. He returned to Trinity College as a teaching fellow and eventually served as classics instructor before leaving for Hobart and William Smith Colleges in 1953. Feldman began teaching at Yeshiva University as an instructor in 1955, became an assistant professor in 1956, an associate professor in 1961 and, in 1966, a professor of classics. In 1993, he was appointed Abraham Wouk Family Professor of Classics and Literature at Yeshiva University.” Dr. Feldman published important works and won many academic honors.

Aside from teaching us Latin, Dr. Feldman taught us how to think. While I have forgotten most of my Latin, I have not forgotten his intellectual guidance.

In his lectures, he gave us the following notice. “Everything I tell you might be true or might be false. But if you ask me a question, I’ll always give you the correct answer.” We had to listen carefully when he spoke; and we had to use our critical faculties to assess whether the information he was giving us was true or false. If something sounded wrong, we had to ask him for clarification. His basic point was: don’t rely on authorities, not even your own professor. Think for yourself, think carefully and analytically.

Sure enough, on one of his exams we all answered a question “correctly,” and we all were marked wrong. When we objected, since we only wrote down what he himself taught us, he replied with a wry smile: “yes, but I wasn’t telling the truth then! You should have been more perceptive, you should have challenged me.” So we all received poor grades on that exam; but we learned a lesson that transcended Latin: we learned to be attentive, critical, self-reliant.

Dr. Feldman assigned us to write a paper that we would present to the class orally. Since I was taking a class in Chaucer at the time, I decided to write a paper on Virgil’s influence on Chaucer. When it was time for me to present my paper, Dr. Feldman sat in the back of the room. No sooner had I made my first point, Dr. Feldman raised his hand. “How do you know that Chaucer drew that phrase from Virgil? Maybe he came up with it himself?” I was a bit flustered, but replied with some confidence: “Professor Thompson, who is a foremost authority on Chaucer, wrote specifically that this passage was drawn from Virgil.” Dr. Feldman said: “I don’t care what Professor Thompson or anyone else thought. You have to demonstrate that in fact Chaucer was drawing on this passage from Virgil. Quoting this professor or that professor does not make something true.”  “But he’s an authority,” I replied. “Don’t rely on authorities,” said Dr. Feldman. “Analyze things for yourself. Citing an authority doesn’t prove your point.”

That was a powerful lesson that has stayed with me over the years. Whereas it is very common in religious life to rely on “authorities,” Dr. Feldman taught us to think for ourselves. Yes, we certainly can and should learn from scholars, but ultimately we need to make evaluations of our own. Because rabbi x or authority y said something does not in itself make something true.

Dr. Feldman had strict rules when it came to submitting our papers. He would deduct one third of a grade for every five typos/misspelled words/grammatical errors. We had to proofread our papers very carefully before handing them in; we knew that he graded strictly. The first paper I ever published was a term paper I wrote for Dr. Feldman comparing five English translations of the Aeneid. Dr. Feldman submitted the paper on my behalf to the Classical Journal…and it was published during my senior year at Yeshiva College.

Aside from his brilliance as a teacher, he was a singular role model. He was not only a world-class scholar of Greek and Latin; he was a Torah scholar who could often be seen in the Beit Midrash well into the night as he studied Talmud. He was serious, but very witty; he had a ubiquitous smile and dry sense of humor. He was strict but not austere. He was demanding but not pedantic.

It is one of the unique joys of life to have studied with great teachers. It is one of the unique qualities of great teachers to expand the intellectual horizons of their students. Dr. Louis H. Feldman was that kind of teacher and that kind of human being.

In 1919, Rabbi Benzion Uziel, then a young rabbi, spoke to a conference of rabbis in Jerusalem. He stated: "Israel, the nation of peace, does not want and never will want to be built on the ruins of others....Let all the nations hear our blessing of peace, and let them return to us a hand for true peace, so that they may be blessed with the blessing of peace." In 1939, when Rabbi Uziel became Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel, he delivered his inaugural address in Hebrew, and then added words in Arabic. He appealed to the Arab community: "We reach our hands out to you in peace, pure and trustworthy....Make peace with us and we will make peace with you. Together all of us will benefit from the blessing of God on His land; with quiet and peace, with love and fellowship, with goodwill and pure heart we will find the way of peace."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The words of Rabbi Uziel and Rabbi Herzog reflected the wishes of the tiny Jewish community in the land of Israel in those times. Those words still reflect the wishes of the Jewish community of Israel today. Hawks and doves alike would like nothing better than genuine, secure peace. They would like Israeli society to be free and happy, without the specter of warfare and terrorism, without the constant threat and reality of Arab military, economic and political attacks. They would like to live in harmony with their Arab neighbors-and to trust that their Arab neighbors will want to live in harmony with them.

We applaud the United Arab Emirates and the State of Israel for reaching the decision to establish full diplomatic relations. The President of the United States and his representatives played an important role in this historic peace-making process. We pray that other Arab nations will join the "circle of peace," by establishing peaceful, harmonious and productive relations with Israel.

It takes courage and wisdom to work for peace. It takes courage and wisdom to maintain an environment of peace and mutual respect. Israel and the United Arab Emirates have taken a giant step forward. May others follow their example.