National Scholar Updates

(reprinted from Aish.com)

Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. was one of America’s most eloquent voices for civil rights, for humanity and for peace. Here are memorable quotes about Jews and Israel that contain King’s stirring calls to live up to our potential and to look at others with fairness and warmth.

Jews and African-Americans:

When King was invited to address the American Jewish Committee convention in 1958, he noted the great similarities between Jews and African Americans, who both experienced hatred and prejudice and who worked to overcome that hatred:

My people were brought to America in chains. Your people were driven here to escape the chains fashioned for them in Europe. Our unity is born of our common struggle for centuries, not only to rid ourselves of bondage, but to make oppression of any people by others an impossibility.

Anti-Semitism and racism:

There are Hitlers loose in America today, both in high and low places… As the tensions and bewilderment of economic problems become more severe, history(‘s) scapegoats, the Jews, will be joined by new scapegoats, the Negroes. The Hitlers will seek to divert people’s minds and turn their frustration and anger to the helpless, to the outnumbered. Then whether the Negro and Jew shall live in peace will depend upon how firmly they resist, how effectively they reach the minds of the decent Americans to halt this deadly diversion…. (May 14, 1958 address to the National Biennial Convention of the American Jewish Congress)

Probably more than any other ethnic group, the Jewish community has been sympathetic and has stood as an ally to the Negro in his struggle for justice. (March 26, 1968 address to the 68th annual convention of the Rabbinical Assembly)

Learning from Jewish history:

Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom eventually manifests itself. The Bible tells the thrilling story of how Moses stood in the Pharaoh’s court centuries ago and cried, ‘Let my people go’. This is a kind of opening chapter in a continuing story. The present struggle in our country is a later chapter in the same unfolding story. Something within has reminded the Negro of his birthright of freedom, and something without has reminded him that it can be gained. (Letter from a Birmingham Jail, 1963)

It was ‘illegal’ to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler’s Germany. But I am sure that if I had lived in Germany during that time, I would have aided and comforted my Jewish brothers even though it was illegal. (Letter from a Birmingham Jail, 1963)

Zionism and Anti-Semitism:

On October 27, 1967, just a few months after the Six Day War, King had dinner with students from Harvard University in Boston. Professor Seymour Martin Lipset was present and recalls how one of the students criticized Zionists. King was incensed, saying “Don’t talk like that!” - and continuing:

When people criticize Zionists, they mean Jews. You’re talking anti-Semitism!

The following year, just days before his tragic murder, King addressed an annual Jewish assembly and explained his pro-Israel feelings at greater length. He explained that Israel and Arab states had different conceptions of what constitutes “peace”. Arab states are consumed with inequality and require fundamental changes in their societies before they can feel secure. Israel, in contrast, desires only secure borders and for the world to recognize its right to exist.

Peace for Israel means security, and we must stand with all of our might to protect its right to exist, its territorial integrity and the right to use whatever sea lanes it needs. I see Israel, and never mind saying it, as one of the great outposts of democracy in the world, and a marvelous example of what can be done, how desert land can be transformed into an oasis of brotherhood and democracy. Peace for Israel means security and that security must be a reality. (March 26, 1968 address to the 68th annual convention of the Rabbinical Assembly)

Fighting for Soviet Jews:

On December 11, 1966, King addressed 50,000 people in 32 states at demonstrations for Soviet Jews via a telephone hookup. His eloquent words reminded the crowds that they all had a vital responsibility to work to help their fellow Jews who were trapped in the Soviet Union. Here are three quotes from that stirring speech:

We cannot sit complacently by the wayside while our Jewish brothers in the Soviet Union face the possible extinction of their cultural and spiritual life. Those that sit at rest, while others take pains, are tender turtles and buy their quite with disgrace.

The denial of human rights anywhere is a threat to the affirmation of human rights everywhere.

Jewish history and culture are a part of everyone’s heritage, whether he be Jewish, Christian or Muslim.

Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated on April 4, 1968 at the age of 39. His stirring words continue to live on, inspiring us to work towards his vision of a world without hatred, without prejudice. His palpable affection and respect for Israel and the Jewish people can inspire us today.

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Terumah

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

This week’s Torah reading includes very specific instructions for building the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary that served as the religious center of the Israelites during their time in the wilderness. Was this construction something absolutely new for the Israelites, or did they already have an idea of what a sanctuary should look like based on their experience in Egypt?

Professor Joshua Berman of Bar Ilan University, in his excellent book Ani Maamin, offers a fascinating insight into the design of the Mishkan. He provides a historical model that likely was familiar to the ancient Israelites.

In 1274 BCE, Rameses II—Pharaoh of Egypt—won a great victory against Egypt’s archrival, the Hittite empire, in the battle of Kadesh. The event was so impressive that battle monuments were erected across the Egyptian empire. Ten copies of the inscriptions exist to this day, and there is good reason to believe that the contents of these inscriptions were widely circulated throughout the Egyptian population, including the Israelites. Several of the bas-reliefs include an image of Rameses’s camp at Kadesh.

Scholars have noted the following facts about the battle compound of Rameses II. “The camp is twice as long as it is wide. The entrance to it is in the middle of the eastern wall….At the center of the camp, down a long corridor, lies the entrance to a 3:1 rectangular tent. This tent contains two sections: a 2:1 reception tent, with figures kneeling in adoration, and leading westward (right) from it, a domed square space that is the throne tent of the pharaoh….In the throne tent…the emblem bearing the pharaoh’s name and symbolizing his power is flanked by falcons….with their wings spread in protection over him” (Ani Maamin, pp. 57-58).

The structure of Rameses’s battle compound is remarkably similar to the structure of the Mishkan, in terms of layout, proportions, separation of reception tent and an inner sanctum where the central figure is flanked by beings with wings spread over. Was this simply a coincidence?

Aside from the visual similarities of the Rameses compound and the Mishkan, Dr. Berman demonstrates how the “Kadesh poem,” composed to celebrate Rameses’s victory, has a number of singular similarities to the Az Yashir poem sung by the Israelites upon their redemption from Egypt. Could there be a connection between these two works?

Dr. Berman suggests that the Israelites were aware of the depiction of Rameses’s battle compound…and the Mishkan’s design was influenced by this. The Israelites were aware of the “Kadesh poem,” and the Az Yashir’s use of language and imagery was influenced by this.

While some may find this problematic as undermining the originality of the Torah, Dr. Berman draws the opposite conclusion. The Torah employed images and language that were familiar to the Israelites…but then directed these factors into a new religious context. Yes, the Mishkan was structured like Rameses’s battle compound, but at the center was the holy ark of Israel…not an image of Pharaoh. Whereas the battle compound glorified Pharaoh and treated him as a deity, the Israelite Mishkan glorified the one true God and was dedicated to the worship of God…not Pharaoh.  Likewise, in the Az Yashir, the Torah utilized phrases and images that the Egyptians had used to glorify Pharaoh…but the Torah directed these phrases and images only to God, not to any human being, not to Pharaoh.

Thus, the Torah broke new religious ground by taking existing Egyptian images and symbols and transforming them into an entirely new religious worldview that fostered worship of one God of supreme power. It used images and language that would have resonated with the Israelites of ancient Egypt, but used them in such a way as to lead them away from idolatry and toward monotheism.

Dr. Berman notes that the Torah should be studied with an awareness of the historical context in which its narratives took place. By doing so, we not only understand the Torah more accurately, but we also better appreciate the Torah’s revolutionary advances in religious thought.

It is with great sadness that we record the untimely passing of Stephen Neuwirth, board member and major supporter of our Institute since its inception in 2007. Stephen was a well-respected attorney, a community leader, philanthropist…a really fine human being. We extend condolences to his wife, Nataly, and their four sons; to Stephen’s father, siblings and extended family.

Within the Jewish tradition, we find insights on how to confront and cope with tragedies.

The Psalmist cries: “Min haMetsar Karati Y-ah,” I call out to God from distress. When in pain, it is natural to cry out to God, to shed tears, to lament our sufferings and our losses. To cry out when we are in distress is a first step in the grieving process. 

“Tefillah leHabakuk haNavi al Shigyonoth.” Dr. David de Sola Pool has translated this passage: “A prayer of Habakuk the prophet, in perplexity.” After crying out at our initial grief, we move to another level of mourning. We are perplexed. We want to know why this tragedy has happened? We want to understand how to reconcile this disaster with our belief in God’s goodness. We are in a state of emotional and spiritual confusion.

“Mima-amakim keratikha Ado-nai.” I call out to God from the depths of my being. This statement of the Psalmist introduces the next stage in confronting tragedy. It is a profound recognition, from the deepest recesses of our being, that we turn to—and depend upon—God. It is a depth of understanding that transcends tears, words, perplexity. It is a depth of understanding and acceptance that places our lives in complete context with the Almighty. We may be heart-broken; we may be perplexed; we may be angry—but at the very root of who we are, we feel the solace of being in God’s presence. When we reach this deepest level of understanding, we find that we don’t have words or sounds that can articulate this inner clarity. We fall silent.

During his bout with pancreatic cancer, Stephen Neuwirth demonstrated profound faith and immense courage. He maintained a spiritual composure. He went beyond feelings of sadness and despair, beyond perplexity at his situation: he reached to the Almighty “mima-amakim”, from the very depths of who he was. His faith and strength of character inspired everyone who came into contact with him during his illness.

It is said that when a loved one dies, part of us dies too. But it is also said that when a beloved person dies, part of his life continues through us…through family, friends, associates, all who benefited from the person’s life energy. 

May Stephen’s memory be a source of strength, blessing and happiness to his family and to all who mourn his passing.

Book Review

Rabbi Yitzhak Berdugo, Understanding Hazal: A Translation and Annotation of Rabbenu Avraham ben HaRambam’s Ma’amar Al HaDerashot Ve-al HaAggadot

(Da’at Press, 2022), 169 pages

By Rabbi Hayyim Angel

          Rabbi Yitzhak Berdugo recently has published an annotated translation and commentary on Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam’s seminal essay on rabbinic aggadot (non-legal texts).

          The primary purpose of this volume is to make Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam’s important essay on midrashic methodology accessible to the English-speaking world. Rabbi Avraham (1186-1237, Egypt) was Rambam’s only child, and was a towering rabbinic figure who succeeded his father as the leader of the Jewish community of Egypt. He mastered his illustrious father’s teachings, and was a prolific author in his own right.

Rabbi Yitzhak Berdugo has written a fine translation of the excellent 2019 Hebrew edition of the essay by Rabbi Moshe Maimon. Rabbi Berdugo also provides learned footnotes with further references and clarifications.

          Beyond that purpose, however, Rabbi Berdugo also demonstrates that Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam’s work is perfectly consistent with the teachings of leading Geonim such as Rabbi Hai, Sherira, Saadyah, Shemuel ben Hofni, and others. The great rabbinic interpreters from the Spanish Andalusian school who became the heirs to the Geonic tradition, such as Rabbi Avraham ibn Ezra and Rambam, adopted the interpretive position of the Geonim.

Briefly stated, aggadot (non-legal texts in the Talmud and other midrashic collections) are not generally to be viewed as binding received traditions, nor are they all intended as literal. We must examine each aggadah carefully to learn the lessons of our Sages, but aggadot must not replace a careful study of the biblical text.

Because Tanakh and aggadah are studied for their truth, we hear the truth from the one who says it, rather than being bound by an authority-based system. In the words of Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam in chapter 2 of his article:

Know, for it is your duty to know, that anyone who wishes to uphold a known theory and admire its author by [blindly] accepting it without proper analysis or verification of its truth, is [considered to possess] a deficient character trait. This [mode of conduct] is forbidden according to the way of the Torah, and is not an intelligent approach. It is intellectually dishonest because it entails deficiency and inadequacy in the contemplation of essential convictions, and it is forbidden according to the ways of the Torah because it deviates from the way of truth… (Berdugo translation, p. 68).

          On one level, Rabbi Berdugo’s thesis is so obvious that there should not be any need to demonstrate its cogency. However, there are always learned detractors within the Orthodox rabbinic world who falsely claim that Judaism universally embraces aggadot as more literal and as binding tradition.

In his footnotes, Rabbi Berdugo cites a recent book by Rabbi Moshe Meiselman (Torah, Chazal, and Science, 2013), who claims that this essay of Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam is a forgery. Among other things, Rabbi Meiselman bases this determination on the (incorrect) assertion that if it were authentic, it would be at odds with the worldview of all the other classical commentators. As Rabbi Berdugo amply demonstrates, many classical commentators—including Rabbi Avraham’s father Rambam—are fully in sync with Rabbi Avraham’s methodology.

          Rabbi Yom Tov Lipmann Heller (1579-1654), the author of the celebrated Tosafot Yom Tov commentary on the Mishnah, understood the self-evident freedom of interpretation in non-legal matters in Jewish tradition:

Regarding Scripture, permission is granted to interpret [differently from how the Gemara interprets] as our own eyes see in the commentaries written since the time of the Gemara. However, we must not make any halakhic ruling that contradicts the Gemara (commentary on Mishnah Nazir 5:5).

          Despite the preponderance of evidence from our classical commentators, many religious educators continue to misrepresent their methodology. Rabbi Marc D. Angel needed to pen an article, “Reflections on Torah Education and Mis-Education” (Tradition 41:2, 2008, pp. 10-23), in which he criticized trends of rabbinic fundamentalism within the Yeshiva Day School system. When teachers explain Midrashim as literal and as binding traditions, they misinterpret the biblical text, the intent of the rabbis’ statements, and the breathtaking diversity of rabbinic interpretations.

          The voices of the Geonim, the classical commentators, and Rabbi Avraham ben HaRambam, among many others, need to be heard and taught. Rabbi Berdugo’s translation and explanation of Rabbi Avraham’s work contributes further to an understanding of the Geonic and Andalusian methodology of how to approach the eternal treasures of our rabbinic aggadot.

  Rabbi Marc D. Angel has been one of the most prolific rabbinic scholars for over 50 years. He has written or edited almost 40 books and hundreds of scholarly articles and shorter pieces in various media. He served a distinguished career as Rabbi of Congregation Shearith Israel in New York City, and since 2007 as the Founder and Director of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals. He has served in many communal and rabbinic leadership capacities, as well.

            The task of writing an article to encapsulate the extensive work of Rabbi Angel is reminiscent of the celebrated talmudic story of the prospective convert who demanded of Hillel to teach him the entire Torah while the prospective convert stood on one foot. Hillel responded: “What is hateful to you, do not to your neighbor: that is the whole Torah, while the rest is the commentary thereof; go and learn it” (Shabbat 31a). My goal in this essay is to present “on one foot” Rabbi Angel’s central ideas and ideals which he has promoted over the course of over 50 years.

*****

Rabbi Angel believes that one must first establish the proper intellectual foundations for an ideal vision of Judaism, and then attempt to build a great personal religious life and Torah community from the ground up. Judaism begins with a profound and abiding belief in God, that God revealed the Torah to the people of Israel through Moses as an eternal covenant, and that there is an accompanying Oral Law to the Written Torah. Judaism also maintains that the rabbinic sages throughout the generations have had the authority to interpret texts and traditions to apply the eternal principles of halakha to an ever-changing world.

            What today is known as Orthodoxy is the faithful reflection of Jewish tradition. Streams of Judaism that are not committed to divine revelation or to halakha cannot be authentic representations of classic Jewish thought.

            Living a proper halakhic life creates a deep, intimate relationship with God. Interiority, humility, love of humanity, and a desire to improve society are proper manifestations of a righteous life. Authentic religion is not about showiness, disdain for others, or authoritarianism.

            The aforementioned arguments are easy to establish from within traditional Jewish sources, and Rabbi Angel therefore devotes relatively little energy to defend them. The lion’s share of his work is dedicated to a different theme, namely, delineating and advocating for what he considers to be ideal Orthodoxy. Often, Rabbi Angel’s writings are scholarly efforts to analyze and present various ideas and ideals of Judaism. There also is a regular hallmark of his writings to battle passionately and courageously for the very soul of Orthodoxy. Rabbi’s Angel’s writings are suffused with calm, thoughtful, well-researched wisdom, coupled with an urgent sense that these ideas must prevail or else our community is impoverished as a result.

            Ideally, all Jews should be faithful to Torah and halakha. However, even in a less-than-ideal world, we must view all Jews, regardless of level of observance, as a family. The inclusive communal model, which never fractured into various ideological movements, provides the best paradigm for promoting Jewish unity for a fragmented contemporary Jewish community. The Sephardic world, and many Ashkenazic communities, championed the this inclusive modell. Even within the halakhically observant community, the ideal is unity without conformity. There are many legitimate avenues to a Torah lifestyle.

We must try to win the hearts of all Jews to the Torah through persuasion and through exemplifying excellent religious and moral behavior, and never through authoritarianism or coercion. We should learn from everyone: the full range of rabbinic thought throughout the ages, folk wisdom, and the wisdom of the world. Judaism is a truth-seeking religion.

Rabbi Angel regularly appeals to a passage in the Jerusalem Talmud: The way of the Torah is a narrow path. To the right is fire and to the left is ice. Overzealousness leads to fiery extremism and fanaticism, whereas too much secularization or watering down of Jewish belief and observance leads to icy skepticism. The Torah way of life is balanced, harmonious, and sensible. To be fulfilled properly, it must maintain its balance on the narrow path.

A confident faith is unafraid of questions and challenges. It is unafraid of diversity of opinion, and it is unafraid of ideas that force one to rethink one’s own assumptions. The rabbinic axiom, “know how to answer the heretic” (Mishnah, Avot 2:14), requires a deep knowledge of what that heretic thinks, and a thoughtful understanding of why the heretic rejects our traditions.

            Judaism balances a particularistic aspect in which God has a singular relationship with the Jewish people through the Torah and halakha; and a universalistic aspect that fosters genuine respect for all humanity. Jews should live in their divinely-given Torah path, while simultaneously embracing the Torah’s ideal that God is everyone’s God. The Torah’s teaching, that all of humanity is created in the Image of God, should foster a genuine love and respect of humanity, and a desire to engage with the world, both its people and its wisdom. As Jews, we are responsible for all other Jews. As human beings, we are responsible for yishuvo shel olam—participating in the advancement of humanity.

Judaism is broad, and contemporary society needs its broadness to address the complex religious and communal realities of today. We also need to represent the profound sophistication and wisdom of Jewish tradition at its best to appeal to well-educated Jews.

There are two fundamental approaches to applying halakha to real life. One approach begins with a study of the classical rabbinic texts, reaching a scholarly conclusion, and then applying that conclusion to the individual or community. The other approach begins with the human reality and then studies the classical rabbinic texts for principles to apply to that reality. Rabbi Angel strongly favors the latter approach. For example, when addressing the question of saying Psalms of Praise (Hallel) on Yom HaAtzmaut (Israel’s Independence Day), we must begin by acknowledging the religious reality of the miracle of the State of Israel. Only then do we turn to the halakhic books.

Ideal rabbis must be scholars and teachers of Torah, but also must be involved with the community. There needs to be a symbiotic relationship between local rabbis who know the particular needs of their communities, and rabbinic decisors who are experts in halakhic texts. Community rabbis must have the humility to consult halakhic experts, and they also must take responsibility to make decisions armed with that expert knowledge for their local communities. The Torah gives guidance for every aspect of life, and rabbinic leadership should offer that guidance to the community. Orthodoxy can exert its greatest influence when its representatives are involved in all communal matters.

The greatest role models behind Rabbi Angel’s religious worldview are Rambam in the medieval period; and Rabbis Benzion Uziel, Haim David Halevy, and Joseph Soloveitchik in the twentieth century. On the communal leadership level, Rabbi Angel also admires two of his predecessors who led Congregation Shearith Israel: Dr. Henry Pereira Mendes and Dr. David de Sola Pool. These exceptional rabbis embodied the ideas and ideals of Judaism at the intellectual, communal, and personal levels.

We do not need to reinvent Judaism or Orthodoxy. We must find its most compelling elements from within our classical sources and promote them. The best of Judaism has the power to attract and inspire many Jews, and they in turn can create the positive model society to inspire humanity.

*****

Within the contemporary Orthodox world, there are powerful threats to Rabbi Angel’s comprehensive vision. There are significant and growing strains within Orthodoxy that are overly fundamentalist. They teach Tanakh and the Talmud at a hyper-literal level, and ignore science, reason, and even the diversity of sacred Jewish texts that present other opinions. Some promote superstition. Some promote isolationism from less observant Jews, non-Jews, and any ideas that are foreign to the specific narrow ideas they espouse. Some overemphasize the particularistic elements of Judaism while ignoring the universalistic elements.

When Judaism is presented as isolationist and anti-reason, it distorts Jewish teaching and creates a cult-like religious group that cares only about its idea of God and the members of its small circle. This approach also alienates many intelligent, educated Jews who are made to feel that tradition and intellectual honesty are at odds with one another. In fact, they are completely intertwined.

            Rabbi Angel frequently criticizes the attempt in certain segments of the Orthodox community to stifle legitimate diversity of opinion. One dimension of this problem is the phenomenon of self-selected “gedolim” (great rabbinic sages), who maintain that they alone possess the truth of Torah, and therefore all other opinions are invalid and irrelevant. The vitality of Judaism relies on debate and conversations. A healthy Judaism allows ideas to be debated, accepted, or rejected, but never stifled or ignored.

            This problem also extends to the proper balance between local rabbis and halakhic scholars who spend their time in yeshivot. The insistence of many today that halakha must derive from sacred texts first and then applied to real-life situations undermines the ideal symbiotic relationship between local rabbis and halakhic decisors. Suddenly, halakhic experts are required not only to share their knowledge with the community rabbis, but also to decide policy for individual communities. As noted above, Rabbi Angel insists that proper halakha must begin with the human reality and then turn to the classical rabbinic texts. Community rabbis must consult halakhic experts for the range of halakhic opinion, and then take responsibility for making the proper decision for their communities.

            Another harmful restriction of opinion in many Orthodox circles is the frequent suppression of Sephardic voices of the past 500 years, generally through ignorance—whether willful or not. This bizarre reality is disrespectful to the sacred customs of Sephardic communities and causes pain to Sephardic yeshiva students who often feel excluded from “Jewish” experience. However, the harm on the communal level is far greater. The plethora of complex issues facing the contemporary Jewish community, including conversion to Judaism, the tragic agunah problem (a woman who is trapped in a dead marriage because her husband refuses to grant a religious writ of divorce, a get), issues pertaining to the modern State of Israel, the role of women, family values, contemporary modesty, and so many other issues, must be addressed with the full rabbinic toolbox. By stifling dissent and diversity, by ignoring the views of many Sephardic rabbis, and by adopting very restrictive positions, the Jewish community suffers irreparable damage.

Although advocates of more extremist, isolationist, restrictive, superstitious, and fundamentalist forms of Judaism cause harm on the intellectual and communal level, there is another culprit behind the flaws of the Orthodox community. Too many rabbis and laypeople remain silent or even tacitly support the more extreme views. Those who understand the ideas and ideals of the Torah must courageously stand up and promote the ideal vision of Judaism. The community must play a vital role by supporting institutions that promote these ideals.

Rabbi Angel quotes Rabbi Benzion Uziel, who in 1919 reminded his rabbinic colleagues that humility is praiseworthy, but it must never lead to shying away from the needs of the hour. Inertia cloaked in false humility is an abdication of one’s responsibility as a leader. By writing articles with titles such as “On Torah Education and Mis-Education,” “Reclaiming Orthodox Judaism,” and “Re-Imagining Orthodox Judaism,” Rabbi Angel draws his battle lines and appeals to the broader community to recognize the importance of standing up for these ideal values.

In his essay, “Reclaiming Orthodox Judaism,” Rabbi Angel offers a remarkable analysis of a celebrated talmudic passage, the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza (Gittin 55b–56a). After a misunderstanding over a party invitation, Bar Kamtza was furious with the rabbis present who had remained silent at his humiliation. To retaliate, Bar Kamtza accused the Jews of rebellion to the Roman Emperor, suggesting that they would reject his sacrificial offering. The Emperor sent an offering, but Bar Kamtza made a slight blemish on the animal that would technically render the sacrifice invalid. When the rabbis discovered the blemish, most maintained that they should sacrifice the animal anyway, so as not to offend the Emperor. One rabbi named Zechariah ben Avkulas objected, since the law prohibits such a sacrifice. The rabbis then suggested killing Bar Kamtza so he could not inform on them to the Roman authorities. Again, Rabbi Zechariah objected, since Bar Kamtza had not committed a capital crime. As a consequence, Bar Kamtza returned to the Emperor, who was enraged against the Jewish community and destroyed the Temple. The story ends with a condemnation of the hardline position of Rabbi Zechariah: “Rabbi Yohanan thereupon remarked: Through the scrupulousness of Rabbi Zechariah ben Avkulas our House has been destroyed, our Temple burnt and we ourselves exiled from our land.”

Rabbi Angel agrees with Rabbi Yohanan, that the hardline stand of Rabbi Zechariah was a disaster. Rabbi Zechariah placed book knowledge ahead of an obvious reality, namely, the Jewish community would be in dire peril if the rabbis rejected the sacrifice from the Emperor and allowed Bar Kamtza to inform against them. Clearly, the needs of the hour required the position of the majority, to make an emergency ruling to allow the sacrifice so that they could maintain the good favor of the Roman government.

However, continues Rabbi Angel, Rabbi Zechariah is not the true villain of this narrative. The ultimate failure should be ascribed to the majority of rabbis. Why did they not overrule the hardline position of this one rabbi? Evidently, they did not want to seem less religious, less committed to the sacred texts of the Torah. They had to take a risk by applying halakha to a dire reality. The cowardly majority allowed the forceful insistence of Rabbi Zechariah to win the day—and therefore are complicit in the destruction of the Second Temple.

Rabbi Angel’s analysis thereby sets out two of his central messages. First, when hardline halakhic analysis follows book knowledge prior to evaluating a living reality, halakha can be distorted and it may cause harm to the community. Second, and in many ways more importantly, those whose judgment is sound must courageously stand up against the hardline position. When the majority of reasonable voices remain silent, voices of extremism prevail and the entire Jewish community loses.

            In his essay, “Re-Imagining Orthodox Judaism,” Rabbi Angel writes that “If enough of us share these ideals; if enough of us are willing to work to promote these ideals; if we can impact on synagogues, schools, and yeshivot—then perhaps these ideals will actually be realized in our community.” Rabbi Angel is right. The rest is up to us to support and build on this foundation.

Mordechai is universally recognized as a hero, but it wasn’t always that way. Like many heroes, his acts of greatness were extremely controversial at the time. Were it not for the benefit of hindsight, many of those who admire Mordechai today would have opposed him.

            Mordechai was an eccentric figure long before he encountered Haman. Megillat Esther 2:6 introduces Mordechai as follows: “He was exiled from Jerusalem with the group of exiles that were exiled with Yechonya, king of Judah, whom Nevuchadnezzar, king of Babel, exiled.” The Vilna Gaon makes an astonishing comment based on the repetitive mentions of Mordechai’s exile in this single verse: “[This is] to inform us of his love for the Land of Israel, for each time [he was exiled], he returned to Jerusalem, and he was exiled three times.”

            How many Jews today would make aliya, be forced to return to the Diaspora, then try again two more times in short succession? How many rabbis would even encourage such behavior? This is despite knowing that there is a real future in Israel as the final prophecies unfold.

            Mordechai faced the exact opposite scenario. The ten tribes were exiled, much of Israel was in ruins, and the little that remained was a vassal state. Everyone was aware of the prophecies that the Temple was going to be destroyed, the inhabitants of Israel would be slaughtered, and the survivors would be exiled. What was Mordechai going back for? His contemporaries probably thought he was insane.

            Then again, others would have viewed Mordechai as an idealist with a can-do attitude that put his detractors to shame.

            It’s no surprise that someone who refused to abandon the sinking ship that was Israel at the time, no doubt suffering great personal hardship as a result, would be the hero of the Purim story. Mordechai was the one who urged the Jews not to attend Achashverosh’s party, with its debauchery and implicit acceptance of an exile mentality, and Mordechai was the one who refused to submit to Haman.         

            These were not popular decisions at the time. If today’s media and (God help us) social media existed back then, we can imagine how Mordechai’s fellow Jews would have mercilessly attacked him, without regard for his status as a “leading rabbi.” They would have accused Mordechai of endangering them with his reckless behavior, his unwillingness to be practical and accept reality. The Jews were in the Diaspora now and were fortunate to live in a “tolerant” society. Quiet diplomacy was the call of the hour, if not ingratiation and even assimilation. The last thing most Jews wanted was a religious extremist like Mordechai rocking the boat.

            Contemplate this for a moment and be brutally honest. If you were there, would you have reacted any differently?

            And there’s the rub when it comes to heroes. Everyone points to them as role models long after they are gone, but the very qualities we admire in dead people we loathe among the living. Mordechai would be hard-pressed to land a pulpit today, or even a shidduch. Even those who admired his integrity and idealism would be leery of throwing their hat in with him. Practical considerations, after all.

            We teach our children to admire people like Mordechai, but in a purely theoretical sense. Do we encourage them to emulate his behavior in real life? Does our society? No. We reward contemporary Mordechais with swift backlash and cold-blooded cancellation if they persist.

            Children learn very quickly not to take stories of biblical heroes as an actual path to follow. The first time they point out an egregious hypocrisy in the community, an outrage that needs to be addressed, they might be met with amusement. Little Moshe wants people to stop talking during synagogue services! How cute!

            If they don’t get the message, though, they will get their first taste of retribution. If they are smart, they will learn to just be quiet and go along with it like everyone else. If they are clever, they too will reap the rewards of degeneracy, instead of being a pious fool. If they are geniuses, their idealism will be destroyed, their souls will be crushed, and they will go “off the derech.” In the unlikely event that they return, their rebellious past will be a permanent stain.

            If they remain religiously committed and somehow maintain their idealism, they will be social outcasts (unless they become extremely rich, in which case even worse crimes than idealism can be overlooked). Even those who agree with them and admire them will be afraid to publicly support them. If you want to take on problems in the Jewish world—really take them on—be prepared to do it alone, and be prepared to suffer mightily for it.

            Mordechai’s story is not so much a celebration as a cautionary tale.

            Then again, it’s understandable that heroes are doomed to be unpopular, at least until they are victorious. The reasons are not entirely without merit. Consider the following:

• Heroes rock the boat. Their behavior is by definition threatening to people’s sensibilities, and often carries real dangers to the people they are trying to help. Mordechai took it upon himself to stand up to Haman, but that very plausibly could have backfired. He might have been “right” (well, he was definitely right), but is it always right to spit in the eye of powerful, impulsive rulers who don’t especially like the Jews to begin with? Granted, not standing up to Haman carried its own dangers, but apathy is always the convenient choice. Heroes make inconvenient choices and demand the same of others.
             
• Idealists are never satisfied, and they make those around them uncomfortable. We need idealists to push us to greater heights, but they don’t always make the best dinner guests.        
             
• Not every underdog with a cause is a hero. It is natural to be suspicious of people who not only go against the consensus, but try to change the direction of the community. We’ve had more than enough agitators, moles, opportunists, reformers, false Messiahs, and downright traitors to be leery of those who promote changes of any kind. Just because Mordechai decided that he should stand up to Haman, why were Jews wrong to doubt him?
   

            So how do we know? How do we know who is a hero worth supporting—in the moment—and who is just a troublemaker?

            There might not be an exact formula, but we have plenty of examples of both in the Torah from which to derive pointers.

            Consider the various Jews in the desert who were “left out.” There was the unnamed son of Shlomit the daughter of Divri and an Egyptian man (see Leviticus chapter 24). He had no tribe and no share in the Land of Israel, through no fault of his own. Wherever he tried to pitch his tent he was told he didn’t belong. He was a true underdog.

            What did he do? He blasphemed God.

            Then we have the daughters of Tzelafchad (see Numbers chapter 27). They too were excluded from a share in the Land of Israel, through no fault of their own. It didn’t seem fair. What did they do? They approached Moses and the other leaders and explained their predicament. They respectfully asked to receive a portion of the land in place of their deceased father. Most of all: they were willing to accept no for an answer if that were God’s will.

            Hazal refer to these women as righteous and wise. God accommodated these underdogs, whereas the blasphemer, tragic figure though he was, was executed.

            We can derive from here that an idealist worth supporting is one who is fundamentally loyal to the community, not an adversary.

            Today there are many, many people who are dissatisfied with the Orthodox world. There is not enough ink to list all their complaints and debate their validity. But we must clarify the following before deciding how to address those bringing the complaints:

            Are they friends or foes? Do they seek to build, or to tear down? Are they respectful, or do they blaspheme? Do they keep their criticisms in house, or do they malign the Orthodox world to our worst enemies and even partner with them? Are they willing to take no for an answer if that’s how it must be? Do they truly love their fellow Jews, imperfect and downright maddening as they often are, or is their “constructive criticism” a fig leaf for seething hatred?

            Another point to consider is the agenda of the hero-in-question. A genuine idealist is one who has no personal agenda in mind. Mordechai never took the convenient path. Whether it was chastising the Jews or publicly defying Amalek, he risked his life for what was right. If he had to pay a price, even the ultimate price, so be it. Although God miraculously saved Mordechai and elevated him, he had no reason to expect that to happen.

            Compare to faux idealists, such as Korah and Absalom. These rebels curried favor with the people with grandiose speeches about equality and justice, but it was just a ruse to achieve power for themselves. That’s the default playbook in our times as well. Once again, we need to consider whether we really want leaders like Mordechai, who stand for truth and make us uncomfortable, or if we prefer to play the game with corrupt leaders. Societies tend to get the leaders they deserve.

            Finally, what separates true heroes from impostors is genuine fear of God. A true hero lives to serve God and bring others closer to the Torah. True heroes are humble even in greatness. Most of all, heroes refuse to negotiate away their principles, for those principles are real. Mordechai understood that the political conveniences of attending Achashverosh’s party or bowing to Haman were not a fair exchange for his identity as a God-fearing Jew.

            This is the ultimate clue that we are dealing with a real hero, not a phony. A real hero places God’s will above all else and makes no attempt to rationalize going against the Torah.

            It was clear that Mordechai had all the above qualities, and so many more. It is tragic that he was not fully appreciated by the people during his lifetime, even after being vindicated. But the fact that he was vindicated should not be necessary; after all, not every hero will be fortunate to achieve victory. We should not view Mordechai as a hero because he won, but because he was the real thing.

            When we teach about heroes, we should emphasize this point. It is not about the glory of victory, but the sacrifice for the sake of heaven, regardless of the immediate result.

            Most of all, we should help create a society in which heroic behavior is appreciated and supported. After all, the Torah requires all of us to be heroes, each in our own way.

            Megillat Esther concludes with the tragic statement that Mordechai was pleasing to “most of his brethren.” Today Mordechai is universally loved, mainly because he is no longer here to admonish us. When we learn to appreciate and support those who follow in his ways, we will surely merit such people to be our leaders.

            May it be soon in our days.

New York Daily News, September 18, 2020

Jews won’t be your scapegoat any longer

By MARC D. ANGEL

NEW YORK DAILY NEWS |

SEP 18, 2020 AT 5:00 AM

For centuries, Jews have been the world’s scapegoat. No matter how absurd the charge, haters have attributed all sorts of evils to this one tiny group of humanity. The great Tunisian/French writer, Albert Memmi, described the predicament: “To be a Jew is first and foremost to find oneself called to account, to feel oneself continuously accused, explicitly or implicitly, clearly or obscurely…There is that constant hostility, that noxious haze in which the Jew is born, lives and dies.”

The haters do not relate to Jews as fellow human beings, but as stereotypes. Their hatred is not aimed at this Jew or that Jew but at “the Jews.” In their warped fantasies, “the Jews” are responsible for all sorts of terrible things; they accuse the entire group, they spread lies and slanders, and ultimately they too often resort to violence.

In a world of over 7 billion people, the Jewish population is less than 15 million — an infinitesimal fraction of humanity. Yet the haters somehow think that this very diverse group of Jews constitute a threat to the world’s wellbeing. Conspiracy theories against Jews would be laughable if they weren’t so dangerous. The haters will readily believe any and every malicious motive and action of “the Jews.”

Jews, in all their diversity, share some common values: the importance of education; the centrality of family; the responsibility for social justice. Although they are such a tiny segment of humanity, Jews — as individuals and as a group — have contributed mightily to the advancement of humanity.

The haters have deep problems. They project their own evil intentions on their scapegoat victims. They think that they are stronger if they can oppress those who they perceive as being an easy target. They want to prove their own worth by tearing down others, rather than by actually raising themselves.

Jews have been the world’s scapegoats for many centuries. We have suffered scorn, ghettoization, violence and murder. We want to notify the world: We resign, we no longer will serve as your scapegoat. From now on, please take your fears and feelings of inferiority to your mirror. Instead of projecting evil on Jews — or any other group — heal yourself. Instead of seeking a scapegoat to relieve your frustrations, think of how you can be the best person you can be.

The Hebrew prophets of the Bible foresaw a time when people will no longer devote their energies to war and destructive hatred. We are, unfortunately, not yet living in such an ideal world.

But each person can either bring us closer to the goal, or drag us further from it.

Thoughts on Tu B'Shvat

(excerpted from The Rhythms of Jewish Living, by Rabbi Marc D. Angel"

twelve fruits on Tu B’Shvat. Moroccan Jews customarily eat a minimum of fifteen different fruits. Iraqi celebrations called for serving at least one hundred kinds of fruits, nuts and vegetables. The text for the occasion includes readings from the Bible, Zohar, and rabbinic writings. A festive meal follows the readings.

The four cups of wine drunk during the service each have their own significance. The first cup is pale white wine. This symbolizes winter and the dormant earth awaiting the planting season. The second cup is more golden in color and represents the time when the earth comes alive and sap starts to flow from the trees. The third cup of wine is a rose, symbolizing the blossoming of the trees. (In Israel, Tu B’shvat is associated with the flowering of almond trees.) The final cup of wine is a deep red, symbolizing the land’s ripening fruit and its overall fertility.

(In modern times, Tu B'Shvat has been revitalized as a time to celebrate the fruitfulness of the land of Israel, the remarkable achievements of modern Israeli agriculture and environmentalism, and the re-foresting of the land. The day is marked by eating fruits grown in Israel.)

Angel for Shabbat, Parashat Mishpatim

by Rabbi Marc D. Angel

Ralph Waldo Emerson, in his address “The American Scholar,” spoke of Man Thinking. Ideally, people should think carefully, analyze issues, make reasoned judgments.  Man Thinking is self-reliant and original. By contrast, in the degenerate state a person “tends to become a mere thinker, or, still worse, the parrot of other men’s thinking.”  In his essay, “Self-Reliance,” Emerson complains that “man is timid and apologetic. He is no longer upright. He dares not say ‘I think,’ ‘I am,’ but quotes some saint or sage.”

Although it surely is important to have a proper base of knowledge, a person should not forego the right and responsibility of making individual evaluations and decisions. After careful thought and study, one has the right—and responsibility—to express a personal opinion.

Some years ago, I gave a lecture on my book “The Orphaned Adult” in which I discussed my feelings upon the passing of my mother. In the question and answer period following my talk, an Orthodox rabbi asked for the halakhic sources for my comments. I was taken aback. I was describing my experiences and offering my reactions to the death of a parent: why would I need halakhic sources to justify my thoughts?

Yet, for this rabbi (and for so many others) one is expected to have authoritative sources for one’s words. One’s own opinion is not valid in and of itself. Too often, especially in religious life, we don’t trust Man Thinking but demand validation from an earlier authority. Our own opinions don’t count unless they are bolstered by quoting “some saint or sage.” We don’t take into consideration that the earlier sage/authority was expressing an original opinion, was a Man Thinking.

Judaism is sometimes portrayed—and sometimes experienced—as a system of laws, rituals, customs. As a tradition-based way of life, we seek wisdom and direction from the sages and saints of earlier generations. Yet, Judaism in actuality is geared for thinking people, those who not only adhere to the mitzvoth but who seek inner meanings. We don’t only want to know what to do, but why we do it, what is expected, what are the goals. Yes, we do want to learn from the earlier saints and sages…but we then also want to think on our own.

This week's Torah portion begins with God commanding Moses: "And these are the ordinances that you shall set before them." Rashi comments that God instructed Moses not to teach the Israelites by rote but to explain the reasons for the laws. If the people had the opportunity to study the reasons behind the laws, they would more likely internalize and fulfill them.

Rashi's comments relate to "mishpatim", those ordinances that are apparent to reason and common sense. But what about "hukkim", laws whose reasons are not readily apparent? Was Moses expected to offer reasons and explanations for these ceremonial, ritual laws? Or was he to state the commandments and have the Israelites obey them even if they did not understand the underlying reasons for them?

In his "Guide for the Perplexed," Rambam devoted serious discussion to the reasons for mitzvoth. He believed that since God is all-wise, all of the mitzvoth—including “hukim”-- contain divine wisdom.  Rambam refers to the sickness in the souls of people who prefer to observe commandments blindly rather than to imagine that God had reasons for giving these commandments. He was displeased with those who thought that the Torah's teachings should be accepted blindly and unthinkingly. This tendency of mind leads inexorably to a superficial view of religion, even to superstition. A mind that is trained to accept information without analyzing and questioning it, is a mind that can be controlled by demagogues.

Albert Einstein offered his view on the vitality of Jewish tradition: “The pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, an almost fanatical love of justice, and the desire for personal independence—these are the features of the Jewish tradition which make me thank my stars that I belong to it” (The World as I See It, p. 103)

We should all feel grateful for belonging to a religious tradition that is deep, wise, idealistic—and that encourages us to think for ourselves.