National Scholar Updates

*Military Chaplains' Review - *Summer 1992 -Pluralism and Minority Issues. PB 16-92-3  pp. 57-66--reprinted with permission
 

Background. Any examination of the question of religious pluralism within the naval service must be rooted in the context of the American society as a whole. America, unlike most other societies, is a pluralistic society in a number of ways, i.e. ethnically, racially, linguistically, and religiously. This is of particular significance for chaplains in their ministry within the sea services, where they touch the lives of such a diverse cross-section of America.

     The developers of the Constitution saw the vital need for separation of powers, ensuring that no one group or individual would have complete sway over another. Coming out of a European background, the doctrine of separation between church and state was deemed necessary. The Bill of Rights guarantees in its First Amendment, ^"Congress shall make no law respecting an establishing of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof."

        The chaplaincy was established to ensure freedom of religion for members of the Armed Forces, while complying with the non-establishment clause. This is a very difficult balance to maintain. Chaplains are required to facilitate free exercise of religions, often differing vastly from his or her own.

              With regard to the Navy, SECNAVINST 1730.7 "Religious Ministries within the Department of the Navy," states in part, "Its purpose is to provide for the free exercise of religion for all members of the naval service, their dependents, and other authorized persons appropriate to their rights and needs and providing staff support to this end throughout the Department of the Navy."

Navy Regulations, 1973, article 0722, paragraph 2, provides that "The religious preferences and varying religious needs of individuals shall be recognized, respected, encouraged, and ministered to as practicable."

SECNAVINST 1730.7 deals with the question of providing and facili­tating: "Administering the Command Religious Program by conducting divine services, administering sacraments and ordinances, performing rites and ceremonies of the chaplain's particular faith group and facilitating the provisions of religious ministries for personnel of other faith groups."

DOD Directive 1304.19 echoes the need to provide and facilitate in the "Nomination of Chaplains for the Armed Forces." It states in part, "... facilitate ministries appropriate to the rights and needs of persons of other faith groups."

It is clear at the outset, that a great deal of providing and facilitating is required of a chaplain in the naval service, in terms of religious pluralism. The expectations of a chaplain as a minister of religion is not duplicated in the civilian sector of our society. The goal is to find approaches to effective ministry in a pluralistic setting, even though we may come from an exclusivistic, conventional, theological perspective. It is with this in mind that this paper is written to offer some guidance to chaplains.

Biblical Concepts of Covenant

The concept of covenant, especially as applied to the relationship between humanity and God, is generally understood as a special relationship of exclusivity. Often, it is only open to members of one's own group or religious brotherhood. It therefore creates, tacitly, an "insider and out­sider" outlook and approach. Is it possible to avoid this pitfall, while still affirming the concept of a conventional relationship with God, a relationship so fundamental to the conception of modern religion? Is it possible to remain committed to covenant theology and to serve all people, regardless of faith, in a pluralistic setting? The teachings of Judaism bear out an affirmative answer to these questions.

Jacob B. Agus, presents clearly in his article "The Covenant Concept—Particularistic, Pluralistic, or Futuristic?" that there are both particularistic elements and pluralistic elements in Judaism. It is a matter of emphasis and need, as to how these elements and trends are applied. Agus quotes the Bible scholar Harry Orlinsky as emphasizing an exclusivistic attitude.

In the view of the biblical writers, God and Israel had entered voluntarily into a contract as equal partners to serve and further the interests of one another exclusively. (Harry Orlinsky, Violence and Defense in Jewish Experience. Phila­delphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1977, p. 58)

Agus asserts that this tendency for an exclusivism was to be found both in Judaism and in Christianity. He writes, "Both religions were frequently dominated by the champions of an exclusionist theology."¹

The exclusionist theology was, however, counterbalanced by other more encompassing understandings. Agus shows that, ^"Nehemiah's only reference to a covenant (Nehemiah 9:8) is to the one concluded with Abraham, 'the father of a multitude of nations.'"² There are several other covenants, "... The covenant with humankind, represented by Adam and Eve, as well as Noah and his descendants, and the covenant with Abraham as the father of all who convert."³

To Agus, Abraham becomes a symbol of universality.

Abraham's call is described as a kind of exodus, the beginning of the destiny of Israel, and it is stated in terms of universality, 'and all the nations of the earth will be blessed through you.'⁴

God's relationship with Israel, "... was due to God's goodness, love, and compassion."⁵ Some authors of biblical writings in• Agus's words were guilty of, "... the narcissistic feeling of superiority.... (Isaiah 28:10, 13) The covenant concept may easily be corrupted to the point of shutting out the openness of the faith-event, its dynamism, its infinite outreach."⁶

Harold Coward, writing his Pluralism: Challenge to World Religions takes note of the possible historical reasons for Jewish acceptance of tolerance in its covenantal outlook.

The experience of being a minority group in other cultures ... has been the norm for Judaism for countless generations. From the biblical period to the present, Judaism has had to formulate beliefs and practices in the face of challenges from other cultures and religions.⁷

One might think that this would create, an attitude of intolerance, but it did not. Perhaps the opposite is the case. According to Coward,

It is this notion of being committed to God that is fundamental to Jewish theology and to Jewish understanding of the relationship of other peoples to God. Just as God has entered into a special covenant relationship with the Jews, there is no reason why God could not enter into other relationships with other peoples.

While for the Jews it is the Mosaic—and later the Davidic covenant—that is true and authoritative, for other peoples (e.g. the Christians or Muslims) it will be their particular relationships with God that will be true and authoritative (for them).⁸

The covenantal idea of Israel seems in some ways paradoxical. At once it is particularistic and universalistic.

In virtue of the covenant, Israel then fulfills a paradox at the heart of human history, a specifically religious community... the people of God is at the same time a reality belonging to this world.... As a consequence, its national experience, in which all others can recognize themselves, is going to take on a religious meaning which will shed light on faith.⁹

Perhaps nothing serves as well the interests of universalism in biblical literature than the motif of man created in the image of God. The creation by God of a single person unifies mankind at the outset within the first few chapters of Scripture.

The second chapter of Genesis is concerned not only with the history of a single man, but with the history of all humanity, as is clear from the meaning of the word Adam. which means 'man.' For the Semitic mind, the ancestor of a race carries in himself the collectivity 'which has come from him.' ...This is what has been called 'the corporate personality,'¹⁰

Although Adam would appear to be the perfect choice for use as a basis for Rabbinic theology as Judaism relates to the external world, it is really the person of Noah and his descendants who deserve this honored place in rabbinic literature. Noah acquires for himself and his sons the title of the progenitor of all of mankind, following the disastrous flood. The Jewish Encyclopedia article on covenant states, "But it is especially the covenant of Noah which was interpreted by the Rabbis to include all the laws of humanity." ¹¹

When God promised Noah to send no deluge, he also made a covenant with the earth that men should be filled with love for their homes so that all parts of the earth might be inhabited.¹²

Rabbinic Concept of Noahism and Noahide Commandments

The entire human race was seen as descending from the three sons of Noah following the flood.¹³ After the flood an additional commandment was added to the Noahide ordinances, "the limb of a living animal." This was an interpretation, based on the verse, ^"You must not, however, eat flesh with its life-blood in it." (Genesis 9:4). Exodus Rabbah, Mishpatim Ch. 30:9 states this explicitly, "He gave to Adam six commandments and added one to Noah." Since Adam and mankind were originally to have been vegetarian, the commandment was added to Noah and his generations concerning the life-blood of animals.

It would be incorrect to believe that these seven Noahide command­ments were limited in their scope. The Talmud demonstrates that it is not necessarily 'seven,' although conceptually it appears that way. These seven commandments are only 'commandment principles'—general command­ments, each one involving numerous details. These details can be found in the Talmud, Tractate Sanhedrin 56b, 59a, and 60a. In his biblical commentary, Nahmanides (d. 1270) on the verse in Genesis 34:13 writes,

The sons of Noah were commanded the laws of stolen property, fraud, extortion, wages of hired workers, laws of the guardian, rapist, seducer, principles of damages, personal injury, laws of loans and borrowing, laws of commerce, etc, similar to the laws commanded to the Israelites.¹⁴

           According to Eliezer Levy. "The sons of Noah have in their possession a complete torah with manifold precepts."¹⁵

           Aaron Lichtenstein lists the Seven Noahide Commandments as:

I.      Justice. (An imperative to pursue social justice, and a prohibition of any miscarriage of justice)

2. Blasphemy. (Prohibits a curse directed at the Supreme Being).
3. Idolatry. (Prohibits the worship of idols and planets).
4. Illicit Intercourse. (Prohibits adultery, incest, sodomy, and bestiality).
5. Homicide. (Prohibits murder and suicide).
6. Theft. (Prohibits the wrongful taking of another's goods).
7. Limb of a Living Creature. (Prohibits the eating of animal parts which were severed from a living animal).¹⁶'

Rabbinic Judaism teaches that the Jew, based on the Sinaitic covenant, is enjoined to observe the applicable six hundred and thirteen positive and negative commandments. It would appear to be very imbalanced if the non-Jew would be obligated by only seven and, yet, receive the same reward in the Future World. Aaron HaLevi of Barcelona takes note of this,

Make no mistake about the enumeration of the Seven Laws of the Sons of Noah—these being well known and recorded in the Talmud—for they are but categories and they contain many particulars.¹⁷

           Aaron Lichtenstein goes into a detailed analysis of the specifics of Noahide particulars, comparing the ratio between Israelite and Noahide. Ultimately, he concludes that the practical observable Israelite commandments are significantly reduced, bringing the ratio of Israelite versus Noahide to approximately four to one. ¹⁸

          The Noahide covenant with all mankind continued uninterrupted until the giving of the Torah at Sinai. "All nations were considered as Sons of Noah until giving of the Torah. From the giving of the Torah forward, only the nations of the world are called Sons of Noah, and not the Israelites." (Mishnah Nedarim 3:11)  The distinction between Sons of Noah (Gentiles) and Israelites (Jews) was only in regard to convenantal responsibilities, but not in regard to rewards. "He who observed the seven Noachian laws was regarded as a domiciled alien, as one of the pious of the Gentiles." ¹⁹ This meant that all righteous persons, regardless of origin and specific covenant would receive their portion in the World to Come. No distinction was made between Gentile and Jew.

Moses Maimonides demonstrates that the Sons of Noah are by no means restricted in their covenant, but could opt to go beyond its scope.

Sons of Noah desiring to perform any commandments of the Torah, in order to receive (additional) reward—he is not to be prevented from doing it properly.²⁰

The Noachian precepts represent a theory of universal religion, emphasizing good actions rather than right belief, ethical living rather than credal adherence, they require only loyalty to a basic code of ethical conduct, and rest upon the recognition of a divine Creator.²¹

Maimonides reaffirms, "A heathen who accepts the seven command­ments and observes them scrupulously is a 'righteous alien' and will have a portion in the world to come ..."²²

The concept of a universal nationalism, transcending the particular covenant of the Israelites is expressed by the Prophet Zechariah, "In that day many nations will attach themselves to the Lord and become His people . . ." (Zechariah 2:15) This does not refer to any transformation officially, or adherence to the Israelite covenant, but to a universal accept­ance and recognition of God.

Rabbinic Concept of "In Pursuit of Paths of Peace"

Besides the Rabbinic concept of the Noahide commandments and covenant symbolized by the rainbow, is an additional concept—"in pursuit of paths of peace." Generally, the Torah and rabbinic legislation deal with the Israelite sovereign nation. As was quite normal in the ancient Near-East, legislation dealt with the indigenous population and rarely with the foreign element living in its midst.

In modem times, especially in America, we speak in far broader terms than elsewhere in the past. Today, the concept of citizenship is widely applied to most people living within a country's borders. In ancient Israel, at least theoretically according to the Rabbis, there was a sovereign nation composed of Israelites, members of a particular covenant. Additionally, there were others, i.e. non-Jews, a minority in their midst. The question was how to deal with this minority? Since this was not dealt with in the original sources, it required additional rabbinic legislation.

Our major source is Maimonides' Code, the Mishneh Torah, which brings down laws applicable: past, present, and future. Maimonides establishes that the Israelite courts are to judge cases involving non-Jews in accordance with the non-Jews' own seven commandment principles. It is expected that these principles of moral living are to be known and practiced.

        It is one thing to judge cases affecting non-Jews with the Noahide principles, but what about the other areas of day to day human contact? It is at this point that the concept of "in pursuit of paths of peace" comes into play. The alien is to be loved and cared for without distinction made between Jew and Gentile. Maimonides writes,

... and so it seems to me: we deal with the resident-alien with courtesy and loving-kindnesses as with an Israelite, for we are commanded to sustain them as it is said, '... give it to the stranger in your community to eat ...' (Deuteronomy 14:21). This is what the Sages said: We do not withhold from them our blessing of 'shalom.'²³

It is not only to engender courteous relationships with non-Jews, but also to demonstrate goodwill in practical matters where help and assistance is necessary and vital. Maimonides continues,

... Even Gentiles—the Sages required to visit their sick, to bury their dead along with the dead of the Israelites and to provide for their impoverished together with the poor Israelites in pursuit of peace. (Book of Judges. Ch. 10:12)²⁴

Maimonides bases these practical considerations of the needs of Gen­tiles, on God's own compassion over all His creation. "The Lord is good to all and His mercies are over all His works." (Psalms 145:9) and it is said, "Her ways are pleasant ways and all her paths, peaceful." (Proverbs 3:17)

Implications for Ministry in a Pluralistic Setting

Chaplains serving in the United States Armed Forces are required by regulation to serve all, regardless of religious faith or affiliation. This is an expectation unprecedented in history and in human religious experience. Since a chaplain is also expected to faithfully represent his or her own religious faith group, conflicts may arise, at times.

Samuel Sandmel in his book We Jews and Jesus, sets forth what he perceives as a primary conflict:

A first item involves an inescapable necessity Christians and Jews need to recognize that Christianity and Judaism until the modem age . . have felt about each other that they were mutually exclusive, reciprocally contradictory of each other, and that the one was true and the other false.²⁵

The chaplaincy requires a more comprehensive attitude towards others; not "mutual exclusivity." In examining Judaism, it is possible to demon­strate two possible attitudes within its covenantal theology; the particularistic side or the universalistic side. At times, one aspect was emphasized over the other. There was a constantly shifting emphasis based on needs of contem­porary society.

Living in pluralistic America, it is necessary to delve deep into the vast repositories of collective wisdom in religious tradition. Somewhere inside, it is possible to find what we as humans have in common. Since much of Western religion is rooted in a common tradition in Judaism, much of the research in this paper is applicable, in some measure. We see a common God for all of humankind. We find a common ancestry in Adam and later in Noah.

The Noahide covenant is composed of seven commandment principles that are applicable in all of civilized society. The question asked in this universal covenant is not what is your religion or theology, but rather do you behave in accordance with universal principles of acceptable behavior? The universal covenant accords all respect. regardless of religion. All righteous are deemed worthy of salvation granted by the Almighty.

Some may have difficulty, in principle, with some of the contents of this paper. Perhaps this is because of the strong emphasis on particularism in their own faith group. This is understandable, but it should be pointed out that many theologians of various backgrounds are working on this same question from their own traditions. My studies brought me to the writings of Krister Stendahl, specifically, the book Paul Among Jews and Gentiles. Stendahl calls for a rereading of Christian literature which could shed light on a universalistic approach.

People turn to chaplains in times of need. In practical terms, we cannot have a chaplain of every faith available everywhere, at all times. Therefore, every chaplain, no matter what our faith, must be available to serve all when needed. From my perspective, the concept of all humanity as part of a universal covenant offers the most workable solution. For those experiencing difficulty with this solution, Jewish tradition offers the addi­tional practical solution of "in pursuit of paths of peace." In Judaism, there were times when the Torah provided no specific direction on how to deal with foreign persons living in the Israelites' midst. The practical solution of the Rabbis was to invoke a principle of "in pursuit of paths of peace." That is, it was to treat the alien exactly as one treats a member of one's own covenant. In all cases of human need, there can be no distinction made between the homeborn and the alien. Ultimately, the "paths of peace" were codified in Jewish books of jurisprudence.

Our ministry as chaplains is, more often than not, in the realm of healing. We work with human beings. created in the image of God. The realities of life are often overwhelming, requiring one human being to come to the aid of another. Because it is thus, the application of the concept of universal covenant, and the principle of "in pusuit of paths of peace," provide a safe path upon which to walk in faithfulness to one's own tradition, while facilitating the spiritual healing of all the sons and daughters of Noah.

Bibliography

Agus. Jacob B.. "The Covenant Concept—Particularistic. Pluralistic, or Futuristic?" Journal of Ecumenical Studies. Vol. XVIII, Spring. 1981. Philadephia: Temple University.

Benamozegh, Elie, Israel and Humanity. (Hebrew) transl. by S. Marcus. Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook. 1967.

_______ , "Jewish and Christian Ethics." Judaism Spring 1964 and Summer 1964.

_______ , Jewish and Christian Ethics. San Francisco: Emanuel Blochman, 1873.

Birnbaum, Philip, A Book of Jewish Concepts. New York: Hebrew Publishing Co., 1964.

Coward, Harold, Pluralism: Challenge to World Religions. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1985.

de Vaux, Roland, Ancient Israel Vols. I and II. New York: McGraw-Hill Book Co., 1965.

Glatzer, Nahum N., The Judaic Tradition. rev. ed. Boston: Beacon Press, 1969.

Greenberg, Simon, The Ethical in the Jewish and American Heritage. New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1977.

Hertz, Joseph H., The Authorized Daily Prayer Book. New York: Bloch Publishing Co., 1975.

Leon-Dufour, Xavier, ed, Dictionary of Biblical Theology. sec. ed. New York: The Seabury Press, 1973.

Levy. Eliezer, Foundations of Jewish Law. (Hebrew). Tel Aviv: Sinai Publishing Co., 1967.

Lichtenstein, Aaron, The Seven Laws of Noah. New York: The Rabbi Jacob Joseph School Press, 1981.

Maimonides, Moses, Mishneh Torah: Book of Judges. (Hebrew). Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav Kook, 1966.

Montefiore, C.G. and Loewe, H., A Rabbinic Anthology. New York: Schocken Books, 1974.

Palliere, Aimé The Unknown Sanctuary. transl. by Wise, Louise Waterman. New York: Bloch Publishing Co., 1928, 1971.

Sandmel, Samuel, We Jews and Jesus. New York: Oxford University Press, 1973.

Schechter, Solomon, Aspects of Rabbinic Theology. New York: Schocken Books, 1961.

Singer, Isadore, ed., Jewish Encyclopedia. Vols. IV and VII. New York: Funk and Wagnalls Co., 1912.

Solieli, M. ed., Lexicon Biblicum. (Hebrew). Tel Aviv: Dvir Publishing Co., 1965.

Stendahl, Krister, Paul Among Jews and Gentiles. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1973.

The Torah ., The Five Books of Moses. Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1962.

Twain, Mark., The Innocents Abroad. New York: New American Library, 1980.

________ . Concerning The Jews. Philadelphia: Running Press, 1985.

Twersky, Isadore, A Maimonides Reader. New York: Behrman House, Inc.. 1972.

Zevin, S.J. ed.. Talmudic Encyclopedia. (Hebrew). Vol. Ill. Tel Aviv, 1951.

________ , Talmudic Encyclopedia. (Hebrew). Vol. V. Tel Aviv: 1973.

Appendix I

Rabbinic Sources

"For God offered the Law to all the nations in turn.... So Israel received the whole Law, with all its details and developments, including the seven commands which the Noahides took upon themselves." (Sifre Deuteronomy, Berakh, §343.142b)

"The sons of Noah were given seven commands in respect of: 1. idolatry, 2. incest (unchastity), 3. shedding of blood, 4. profanation of the Name of God, 5. justice, 6. robbery, 7. cutting off flesh or limb from a living animal." (Genesis Rabbah, Noah XXXIV, 8)

"What was Deborah's character that she should have judged Is­rael ... ? I call heaven and earth to witness that whether it be Gentile or Israelite, man or woman, slave or handmaid, according to the deed which he does, so will the Holy Spirit rest on him." (Tana debei Elijah, p. 48)

"God said to Moses; 'Is there respect of persons with Me? Whether it be Israelite or Gentile ... whosoever doeth a good deed (mitzvah), shall find the reward at its side, as it says, 'Thy righteousness is like the everlasting hills; man and beast alike Thou savest, 0 Lord,' " (Psalms 36:6) (Yalkut, Lekh Lekha §76)

"And these are the things they prescribe in the interests of peace; . . . They must not prevent the poor among the non-Jews from gathering gleanings, the forgotten sheaf, and the field-corner--for the sake of peace. (Mishnah Gittin 5:8)

"Poor Gentiles may glean and participate in the 'corner of the field' and the 'forgotten sheaf' charities. (Mishnah Gittin 5:8)

"Our Rabbis taught: It is proper to support Gentile poor together with the poor of Israel. It is proper to visit their sick together with the sick of Israel. It is proper to bury the dead bodies of Gentiles together with the dead bodies of Israel, because it will foster peace." (Talmud Gittin 61a)

"In a city where there are both Jews and Gentiles, the collectors of alms collect both from Jews and from Gentiles; they feed the poor of both, visit the sick of both, bury both, comfort the mourners whether Jews or Gentiles, and they restore the lost goods of both—for the sake of peace." (Jerusalem Talmud Dem. IV §6)

"Saving of life takes precedence of the Sabbath, in case of Jew and Gentile alike." (Talmud Yoma 85a)

               ^"Rabbi Simeon ben Halafta said: There is no way to bless except through peace, as it is said, 'The Lord blesses His people with peace.'(Psalms 29:11)" (Numbers Rabbah, Pinehas XXI,i).

Endnotes

¹Jacob B. Agus, "The Covenant Concept—Particularistic, Pluralistic, or Futuristic?", Journal of Ecumenical Studies, (Philadelphia: Temple University, Spring 1981), Vol. XVIII, pp. 222-3.

²Ibid. p. 220.

³Ibid. p. 220.

⁴ Ibid. p. 220.

⁵ Ibid. p. 221.

⁶ Ibid. p. 222.

⁷Harold Coward, Pluralism: Challenge to World Religions (Maryknoll: Orbis Books,

1985). p. I.

⁸Ibid. p. 2

⁹Xavier Leon-Dufour, ed. Dictionary of Biblical Theology, Second Edition (New York:The Seabury Press, 1973), p. 417.

¹⁰Ibid. p. p. 328.

               ¹¹Isadore singer, ed., Jewish Encyclopedia (New York: Funk and Wagnalls Co., 1912),Vol. IV, p. 320.

¹²Ibid.  p. 320.

¹³Isadore Singer, Vol. VII. p. 648.

¹⁴My own translation of Nahmanides from traditional Hebrew text.

               ¹⁵Eliezer Levy, Foundations of Jewish Law (Tel Aviv: Sinai Publishing Co., 1967), p. 13. Translation my own.

                ¹⁶Aaron Lichtenstein, The Seven Laws of Noah (New York: The Rabbi Jacob Joseph

School Press, 1981), p. 12.

¹⁷Ibid. p. 92.

¹⁸Ibid. pp. 90-1.

^I9Isadore Singer, Vol. VII, p. 649.

²⁰Moses Maimonides, Mishneh Torah: Book of Judges (Jerusalem: Mossad HaRav

Kook. 1966).

²¹Philip Birnbaum, A Book of Jewish Concepts (New York: Hebrew Publishing Co.,

1964), p. 93.

²²1sadore Twersky. p. 221.

  ²³Moses Maimonides, Book of Judges, chap. 10:12.

  ²⁴Ibid., ch. 10:12.

               ²⁵Samuel Sandmel, We Jews and Jesus (New York: Oxford University Press, 1973), p. 6.

The journal information is:

*Military Chaplains' Review - *Summer 1992 -Pluralism and Minority Issues. PB 16-92-3
*The Military Chaplains' Review* (ISSN 0360-9693) is published quarterly  for the Chief of Chaplains by the US Army Chaplaincy Services Support Agency, 1730 K St. NW, Washington, DC 20006-3868 - Unless copyrighted, articles may be reprinted. Please credit the author and the *Military Chaplains' Review*. Distribution restriction: Approved for public release."
 

I. The Jewish Leader

The Jewish leader represents the Jewish cultural ideal. The Jewish leader must be one of the people—we may not appoint a king who is not one of our own—but whose vision, knowledge base, and moral compass are all in order. We can identify three typological Orthodox rabbinic models, which we will compare to each other and to the contours of the rabbinic sacred literary canon: the charismatic commander, the cookie cutter coward, and the covenant creator.

The charismatic commander supersedes the rabbinic sacred canonical library. In Ashkenazi medieval rabbinic Hebrew, this person was called a godol, or great one, by Tosafot and Raabad, whose stature and office command authority. Maimonides disagreed, claiming that the gadol is the honorific head of the court, and it is the object of the court, the reasoned rulings that are issued and not the charisma of the person, that is Jewishly normative. Since it has been decided that “we do not follow Maimonides’ opinions,” for these “charismatic commander” rabbis, rabbinic authority indeed resides in the rabbinic person, who is alone allowed to read the rabbinical sacred library and to divine for today God’s will. We do not rule according to the Bible, Talmud, or Codes. We must rule in accord with the intuitively endowed and divinely guided master of charisma, who by dint of divine inspiration is not going to err against the will of God. It is no accident that the Hareidi ArtScroll book on Rishonim [Early rabbis] views the mystical charismatic, Nahmanides, as “more” traditional, and therefore more theologically compelling, than the rational philosophical legalist who wished to empower all Israel, notably, Maimonides.

This charismatic commander ideology is manifest in the legal decisions of Rabbi Moses Feinstein and in thought of Rabbi Elchonon Wasserman. Even though one may not do an act to endanger one’s life, it is improper, according to Rabbi Feinstein, to argue that smoking cigarettes is forbidden because “great rabbis smoke.” Even though classical Jewish law explicitly outlaws eating in a sanctuary not designated as a Study Hall, or Bet Midrash, one may not claim that eating in a sanctuary violates Jewish law because Hassidim, the “most” Orthodox of the Orthodox, do it. Conversely, even though the bat mitsva celebration violates no explicit Talmudic statute, it must be avoided because the wrong rabbis invented the rite, i.e., the “Reform.” [For the record, it was invented by the Reconstructionist founder, R. Mordecai Kaplan]. Rabbi Wasserman believes that Jewish moderns are blinded by secularity and suffer from cultural vertigo. We are too guilty of assimilation to make innocent readings and applications of Israel’s sacred library. Israel may have been given the Torah, but only those uncorrupted by modernity and secularity are sufficiently innocent, religiously honest, learned, and therefore capable of intuiting God’s will correctly.

Since charismatic commanders claim to possess an intuition greater than other rabbis, not to mention lay people, their criticisms are deemed constructive and appropriate. They possess the requisite gravitas to criticize and, if needed, to condemn the error of others, especially those who wish to accommodate modernity, secularity and Judaism, dismissing the good old ways from the good old days. Criticism of these rabbis is categorized as slander, in Hebrew, motsi shem ra, inappropriate and indeed forbidden to lesser light rabbis and their “illiterate” laity. If one has the misplaced, misinformed, and unfortunate audacity to challenge the charismatic commanders, he/she is to be accused of godol bashing, because in the hierarchical scheme of charismatic commanders, the great rabbis are not subject to peer review because they do not accept the contentious claim that they have peers. And if these accusers assert that Maimonides, in the Laws of Torah study, allows the respectful dissent of calling polite attention to the apparent dissonance between what the great rabbis rule [e.g. smoking and eating in the synagogue are allowed, bat mitsva is disallowed] and what the canon explicitly commands, forbids, and when silent, legitimates, validates, and permits, the accuser is reminded that “we do not rule according to Maimonides.” We rule in accord with the conscience of the right rabbis, the charismatic commanders, the gedolim.

II. The Cookie Cutter Charismatic Rabbi

In order to help benighted laypeople recognize who is in fact the right rabbi, there is a “traditional” form of dress that that must be worn so that the theologically correct address may be rightly identified. The dark suit or the long caftan have, by dint of usage, been grafted on to “Tradition.” The Maimonidean rules of dress, that one dress neatly, cleanly, and without calling undue attention to oneself, are ignored because “we do not rule according to Maimonides.” The occasion when the Jewish male is advised but not formally obliged to dress in black according to Talmudic law goes delicately and appropriately uncited.

The ideology of the charismatic commander is expressed throughout Agudath Israel publications but, ironically, it was put most clearly by a rosh yeshiva at Yeshiva University in his tape, “The P’sak Process,” and his postings at www.torahweb.org. Citing the great sage, Rabbi Joseph B. Solovetichik of blessed and sainted memory, he argues that there are “marriage” rabbis who are “married” to the Torah and able to understand the Torah intimately, as married spouses understand and intuit the wishes of their partners. These rabbis are authorized to rule “from the gut” because they are informed by the mass of Torah information that they have accumulated and their familiarity with the Torah’s secret concepts, axiological ideals, and unrecorded inner spirit guides them with an almost infallible sense of right. While these rabbis are authorized to rule without reason from intuition, their students, being religiously committed but not blessed with the right intuition of Torah intimacy, are “mere policemen, not posekim” and are authorized to enforce but not to decide rabbinic laws. Because lower grade rabbis are “engagement” rabbis, whose relationship with Torah is not yet intimate, they are not stockholders in Torah and have no right to express a reasoned opinion because the Torah’s inner spirit is unknown to them.

The godol, or great rabbi’s learning is creative and is called lomdus, a word unattested either in the sacred rabbinic canon or in the record of medieval Hebrew literature. The lomdus of the charismatic commander is the search for and creation of new definitions which carry culture valence, which enshrine as Torah the inherited culture of the past. [Raabad but not Maimonides or R. Caro to Tur Hoshen Mishpat 25]. Judaism is in fact no more and no less than the consensus of the charismatic commander clique of rabbis.

These rabbis have ruled that women should not become synagogue presidents, and that women’s hakafot or holding the Torah while encircling the synagogue on Simhat Torah defy tradition, and we may not make changes in the good old ways that we have inherited from the good old days. The fact that dissenting opinions may be found in the sacred library is irrelevant to them. The expected is accepted, right and wrong are determined by “divinely inspired” intuition, not in the reasons of a debased, biased laity who are corrupted by modernity, or a corrupted modern Orthodox rabbinate that mistakenly claims that it is sufficient to live Judaism “by the book.”

III. The Covenant Creator Modern Orthodox leader

Modern Orthodox dissent is, to the adherents of the charismatic commander view, disrespectful to great rabbis, or gedolim, because the dissent of lesser lights is disrespectful to the greater lights. And modern Orthodox rabbis, by dint of their being “corrupted” by modernity, are too biased to have a faith-based opinion. After all, they do not have a “marriage” relationship with Torah and therefore have no right to have an opinion.

The modern Orthodox leader is simultaneously Orthodox and modern. Orthodoxy provides the diachronic dimension, the covenantal and creedal commitments, the defining transcendental ideals and unmovable resolute respect for God. Applied to the synchronic realities we inhabit, Torah is imposed upon modernity as the mathematical formula is imposed upon and makes meaning out of raw data. This leader can read Hebrew and the Jewish canonical library. So this leader knows the difference between what the Torah prescribes and what people say Torah prescribes. A heretic violates explicit, canonical beliefs. Calling a rabbi a heretic, without identifying the explicit, unchallenged rule in the canon, renders the accuser heretical for the sins of slander, lying, and misrepresenting Torah. Judaism has no belief in an absolute Scriptural literalism. It should be surprising then that Rabbi Sholom Eliashiv held that believing in evolution is heresy, as though the first chapter of Genesis must be understood in a simplistic literal sense.

According to Maimonides’ theory, God, having no body, would not have a nose to become hot when angry, in spite of the plain sense of Scripture. If we are hyper-literal, we may become heretical. Yet these literalisti rabbis forbid women’s singing and do not take literally Judges 5:1, which informs the reader that Deborah sang with Barak. The issue at hand is not what the Torah teaches, but who has the right to do the teaching. For those who present themselves as Torah faithful fundamentalists who are culture police, a blind submission to their authority creates cookie cutter Judaism, which when challenged, crumbles.

The modern Orthodox leader is comfortable in the timeless Torah and is not threatened by ever changing secular realities, using the former to inform and then sanctify the latter. Realizing that the so-called literalist or fundamentalist is only selectively literal, the modern Orthodox leader’s learning and respect for God will provide the courage to be Orthodox and modern, and resist those who stifle religion in an authoritarian box. By resisting wrong, be that wrong from the Left or Right, modern Orthodox leaders make the Covenant real. For this Covenant Maker rabbi, creed trumps culture, principle controls and is not controlled by persons, and respect for God and God’s image that is invested in every human being overwhelms the forces of confusion, intimidation, and injustice.

IV. Orthodoxy and the Jewish Left

Professor Gerald Bubis once distinguished between the Jewish lay elite, who are power brokers, and rabbis, who are berakha brokers. Both liberal and Orthodox clergy are paid to say what the Jews in their pews demand for their dues. In liberal Judaism, membership payments purchase Jewish identities. And in compensation for compensation paid, lay people expect to be validated. Egalitarianism is determined to be ethical, and since the Orthodox are not egalitarian, they are therefore “unethical” and represent phony religion. By defining Orthodoxy as immoral and liberal Judaism as moral, and by defining religion as morality, a verbal mind game is played that legitimates the Jewish Left, to its own satisfaction. Never mind that most liberal Jews do not see themselves as religious, even according to their own definition. Reform rabbis who will not accept intermarriage or patrilinearity will not be hired and will be excluded from power within the movement. Traditional Conservative rabbis were not permitted to function; Jewish law unambiguously defines the minyan as ten adult males and forbids eating cooked food in non-kosher establishments. The pressure of the market moves professional women and men to conform in order to hold office, wield power, and draw a salary.

Orthodox Judaism chooses different issues than liberal Judaisms, but is no less rigid and coercive when demanding compliance from its cookie cutters. It has created a market-generated rabbinic model of “cookie-cutter cowards” who want to be accepted and say only expected statements, who willingly accept as true the commands of the charismatic commanders, even though they may realize that parochial policy is presented as law. If one marches to one’s conscience, one becomes “controversial,” is seen as irresponsibly idiosyncratic, and implicitly illegitimate and unorthodox. We recall that “official” or de jure covenant is a religion of law, but the actual religion of cookie cutter Orthodoxy is one of consensus. This Orthodoxy talks the religion of covenant but lives the religion of consensus. Universal practice has become “minhag Yisrael,” which is seen by some as having the status of Torah. Torah is in Judaism no less than the command of God and not the will of the people. Yet this doctrine, reflective more of a parochial reconstructionism than authentic rabbinic culture, is enforced by the need to fit in. Note how the idiom’s original meaning in Maimonides’ Mishneh Torah, has been reconstructed. For Maimonides, minhag Yisrael is a custom, accepted as a custom by all and not some of Israel, which becomes binding, like the Talmud. For Maimonides but not the cookie cutter Orthodox, a custom that violates the plain sense of the Talmud is illegitimate, invalid, inauthentic, and must be opposed. For cookie cutter Orthodoxy, the idiom minhag Yisrael means “what Orthodox Jews happen to do” and no more, and this mimetic culture must go unchallenged as the inerrant word of God and godol alike.

A rabbi affiliated with Baltimore’s Ner Israel Yeshiva, argues that women ought not to do the mayim aharonim rite. According to the Talmudic canon, women are obliged to observe this rite, as it is not a time bound obligation. This rabbi contends that the pious ladies of his family did not observe the ritual. Thus, if his family members didn’t do something, that must be correct, even though the family members did not act in accord with Talmudic law. A similar “logic” is employed by ArtScroll, which disallows women from reciting the birkhat ha-zimmun, even though the rite is, according to Talmudic syntax, an obligation. The Tosafists concede this point even though the rite has wrongly been downgraded to a custom. Now, once the rabbinic rule is downgraded to a custom, hareidi religion invents an alternative custom to outlaw women acting liturgically. Ironically, like the feminists who regard the right to observe rite as empowerment, hareidi religion fears women’s empowerment, not only disallowing the permitted, but the required. And failure to conform to this culture standard undermines one’s bona fides, or hezkat kashrut. The real commanders for cookie cutter cowards are human beings whose approval may be given or withheld. These cookie cutter rabbis’ acts and pronouncements invariably tout the party line, without intellectual, hermeneutical, or methodological consistency. A rabbi who would restore the daily recitation of the priestly blessing, challenge the validity and legitimacy of community eruvim, or outlaw women’s wigs on the Sabbath, would lose his bona fides. Such rabbis are extensions of the great rabbis, acting as enforcers, not decisors. They are ordained to be good soldiers but not probing, confident, or competent rabbis. They have come to know their place in the rabbinic hierarchy, looking important but being impotent.

Covenant Maker rabbis realize, following Hoshen Mishpat 34, that well intentioned errors are not sinful. Dissent is legitimate, intimidation is not.

Since the Torah’s ways are pleasant, because God, through the medium of Scripture, says so, only that Orthodoxy that is pleasant, respectful, ethical, and absolutely committed to being decent is worthy of Orthodoxy’s banner.

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Rabbi Marc Angel honored me with a request to restate some of the points made in my book, Must a Jew Believe Anything? (Oxford: Littman Library of Jewish Civilization, 1999; expanded second edition, 2006). In that book I sought to lay out a foundation for how Orthodox Jews should view the rest of the Jewish people, and attempt to provide an intellectual framework for meaningful Orthodox participation in general Jewish life. I also point out how the prevalent Maimonidean framework poses serious problems of heresy-hunting and seeing "non-believers" as enemies with whom we want no ties.

The core argument of that book was that for pre-medieval Judaism the notion of emunah, belief, is best captured by English words like 'trust', 'reliance', 'trustworthiness', and not by terms like 'intellectual acquiescence', or 'agreement'. A believing Jew on this account was a Jew who trusted in God (and whose life-choices and behavior exemplified that trust) and one in whom God could, so to speak, trust. It is not hard to prove that this is the case and I do so in the book. On this understanding of Judaism, membership in the Jewish people and identification with the Jewish past and the Jewish future is what makes a person a Jew in good standing. This reality reflects Ruth's statement to Naomi: "your people are my people, your God is my God," and the process of conversion as outlined in Yevamot 47a-b (and as bravely championed in our day by Rabbi Angel himself). There is no room on this conception of Judaism for systematic theology or dogma and, indeed, neither is to be found in Torah or Talmud.

Maimonides introduced a dramatic change in Jewish self-understanding by insisting that a Jew in good standing was Jew who accepted without demurral certain clearly defined beliefs (now widely known as 'Maimonides' Thirteen Principles of Faith'). This attempt to change Judaism from a community defined by shared history, shared hopes, and shared patterns of behavior to a church of true believers aroused considerable opposition and resistance, as shown in Must a Jew…?, in my Dogma in Medieval Jewish Thought (published by Oxford University Press in 1986 and available now from the Littman Library of Civilization), and in Marc Shapiro's The Limits of Orthodox Theology: Maimonides' Thirteen Principles Reappraised (Oxford: Littman Library of Civilization, 2004).

Maimonides' principles only became normative in the 19^th century. Pre-emancipation Judaism had been an unselfconscious amalgam of religion and what came to be called nationality. With very few exceptions (the forced converts of Iberia being the most prominent example), Jewish authorities never had to define who a Jew was, since the matter was clear, both to Jews and to non-Jews. After the French Revolution, when Jews were invited to participate in the world around them, they found a world in which religion had been largely ‘privatized’, in which religion had been severed from nationality, and in which there developed a confusing myriad of new ways of being Jewish. It was suddenly no longer so clear who was a Jew, and it was certainly no longer clear who was a ‘good’ Jew. In a world in which membership in good standing in the Jewish community was no longer determined by descent (since so many Jews by descent had ceased being Jewish in terms of belief and practice, or were adopting new beliefs and practices, while still calling themselves ‘good’ Jews), in a world in which membership in the Jewish community was no longer determined by identity with a shared Jewish past and hopes for a shared Jewish future (since so many Jews who identified with the shared Jewish past hoped for a shared Jewish future defined primarily in national or cultural terms), in a world in which Jews might be willing to violate every single one of the 613 commandments of the Torah while still being prepared to lay down their lives in defense of the Jewish collective, Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles, wholly ignored by halakhic decisors since their publication, and largely ignored by theologians (with the exception of those of Iberia between 1391 and 1492), suddenly came into their own and were used, with increasing vigor, to demarcate the line between ‘good’ Jews and those who must be excluded, those with whom no religious co-operation may be permitted, those who, for the most lenient, are tinokot shenishbu, and, who, for the most stringent, are out-and-out heretics.

My argument in Must a Jew Believe Anything? called for a return to a vision of Judaism according to which Jews are judged as Jews, not by how closely they proclaim adherence to this, that, or the other interpretation of Maimonides' 'Thirteen Principles', but by their loyalty to the Jewish people and its future. Adopting such a standard allows Orthodox Jews to disagree – strongly! – with the theologies of non-Orthodox movements while enthusiastically working with such Jews in order to assure a stronger future for the Jewish people as a whole.

Since the original publication of Must a Jew Believe Anything? the situation has, if anything, gotten worse. The Haredi world has been treated to the Kaminetzky and Slifkin affairs, Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks was forced into withdrawing a brave and prize-winning book, and the modern Orthodox community has been subjected to the unedifying spectacle of Professor Tamar Ross being accused of heterodoxy in an article written by a colleague in a journal published by her own Bar-Ilan University (a journal on whose editorial board I sit, but I was not consulted about the article in question). These (and the many other episodes one could mention) are internal to Orthodoxy; our relations with other segments of the religious Jewish world have certainly not improved.

There is a core confusion at the heart of the rush to label views with which we disagree as heresy. This confusion lays behind an halakhic query send to none other than Maimonides. Maimonides was asked a pointed and interesting question on his position concerning the place of heretics in the Jewish community and in the world to come. Maimonides' questioner (Responsa, Blau ed., no. 264) had pointed out an apparent inconsistency in the Master's Mishneh Torah. In 'Laws of Idolatry' II.5 Maimonides had stated in no uncertain terms that "Jewish sectarians (minim) are not considered as Jews in any fashion, and they are never accepted as penitents." In 'Laws of Repentance' III.14, on the other hand, Maimonides maintained that sectarians and heretics "are excluded from the world to come only if they die unrepentant. But if he repents his evil, and is a penitent (ba'al teshuvah), he has a share in the world to come, since nothing stands in the way of repentance." The apparent contradiction is obvious. Maimonides' reply is illuminating and may help us in our conversation about relations among Jews of differing religious convictions today. Maimonides replied to his questioner as follows:

What you consider to be a contradiction concerning sectarians – there is no contradiction whatsoever. One of the texts states 'they are never accepted as penitents.' I.e., We do not accept their repentance and do not see them as falling under the category of penitents, but, rather, continue to see them as the sectarians they were, and assume that the righteousness of their behavior is motivated by fear or a desire to fool people. But the second text states that if they truthfully repented in all that concerns their relationship with their Creator, they have a share in the world to come. This [second] law concerns their relationship with their Creator, while the first concerns their relationship with other human beings.

We here gain a valuable insight into the nature of heresy from Maimonides' perspective. Heresy is not only a theological matter, it is also has crucial social aspects. Heretics are so dangerous that they must be excluded from the Jewish community even if they repent. Following Maimonides here would undermine all efforts at kiruv, would close down Habad houses all over the United Federation of Planets, and would bring about even greater divisions among Jews than those from which we suffer today.

No Jew alive today follows Maimonides in this teaching. While paying lip-service to adherence to Maimonidean conceptions of orthodoxy, Orthodox Jews actually behave (as they should) as if they agree with Kellner, and not with Maimonides. They use the 'Thirteen Principles' as a cudgel with which to batter each other but do not actually believe what they say. The clearest proof of this is the case of my friend and respected colleague David Berger. He has proved conclusively that (even without reference to their messianist delusions) contemporary Habad hasidism is heretical, yet no Orthodox rabbi that I have ever heard of is willing to follow him in adopting the operative conclusions that follow from this finding. This is so, despite the fact that most Orthodox rabbis persist in saying, with Berger, that ‘membership in good standing in the community of Israel rest[s] on certain articles of faith’. Berger is consistent: Habad fails a crucial theological test (divine unity and incorporeality, i.e. the absolute transcendence of God) and followers of Habad cannot therefore be considered members in good standing in the community of Israel. Berger's rabbinic colleagues insist that the test is applicable, and some (in private) are willing to admit that Habad fails the test, but none are willing (in public) to join Berger in his condemnation of Habad. Why is that? Leaving aside questions of communal policy and the nature of rabbinic leadership, it seems obvious to me that in their heart of hearts the rabbis who agree that Habad is heresy but who refuse to condemn it as such are adherents (without knowing it) of the approach I advocate---other considerations (for them, halakhic obedience; for me, identification with the past and future of the people of Israel) trump theological orthodoxy.

God's name is truth and His seal is peace. If Orthodox Jews were a little more truthful with themselves, we could have more peace in the Jewish co

Over the generations, Jewish commentators have interpreted the texts of Tanakh using traditional methods and sources.  Many, however, also drew from non-traditional sources when they contributed positively to the discussion.  For example, Rabbi Abraham ibn Ezra frequently employs Karaite scholarship.  In his Guide to the Perplexed, Rambam draws extensively from Aristotle and other philosophers.  Rabbi Isaac Abarbanel frequently cites Christian commentaries and ancient histories.  In the 19^th century, rabbinic scholars such as Samuel David Luzzatto (Shadal) and Elijah Benamozegh in Italy; and Meir Leibush ben Yehiel Michel (Malbim) and David Zvi Hoffmann in Germany, benefited from more recent trends in archaeological and literary scholarly endeavors.

Many other rabbinic thinkers, however, have strenuously opposed the use of outside sources in explicating Tanakh. These rabbis did not want assumptions incompatible with Jewish tradition creeping into our religious worldview. This tension, i.e., whether or not to incorporate outside sources in Tanakh study, lies at the heart of many of the great controversies within Jewish tradition.  An important survey and analysis of various facets of this age-old debate can be found in the essays in Judaism’s Encounter with Other Cultures: Rejection or Integration? (1997).  

Since Jewish tradition places a premium on scholarship and intellectual honesty, we should stand willing to hear the truth from whoever says it.  Rambam stated this axiom long ago in the introduction to his Shemonah Perakim commentary on Avot, and many of the greatest rabbinic figures before and after him have espoused this policy as well.  One of the outstanding 20^th century thinkers, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook (the first Ashkenazic Chief Rabbi of Israel), stressed that we must fear God, not intellectual challenge:

The greatest deficiency in the quality of fear of God…is that fear of thought replaces fear of sin. When a person begins to be afraid of thinking, he goes and immerses himself in the morass of ignorance, which robs him of the light of soul, weakens his vigor, and casts a pall over his spirit (introduction to Orot ha-Kodesh, vol. 3, p. 26).

To implement these ideas in Bible scholarship, Rabbi Kook inspired his student Rabbi Moshe Seidel to embark on an ambitious project.  Under Rabbi Seidel’s leadership, a group of scholars convened in 1956 and carefully formulated the underlying principles for a new Orthodox commentary on the entire Bible.  The first two volumes of the Da’at Mikra series were published by Mosad HaRav Kook in 1970, and its final volume was published in 2003.  This exceptional series incorporates the gamut of traditional interpretation as well as contemporary research.

Literary tools, comparative linguistics, as well as the discovery of a wealth of ancient texts and artifacts have contributed immensely to our understanding the rich tapestry and complexity of biblical texts. Great traditional scholars of the previous generation such as Professor Nehama Leibowitz and Rabbi Mordechai Breuer; and contemporary scholars such as Rabbis Yoel Bin-Nun, Shalom Carmy, and Elhanan Samet have benefited from contemporary literary and archaeological scholarship while working from the viewpoint of traditional Jewish learning. 

Though we should be thrilled to gain a better sense of the biblical period as a result of contemporary scholarship, we must approach this endeavor with prudent caution as well. We first need to understand our own tradition—to have a grasp of our texts, assumptions, and the range of traditional interpretations.  Additionally, everyone enters the fray with biases; non-Orthodox Jews or non-Jews bring beliefs and assumptions with them that often are incompatible with our tradition.  We must carefully sift to distinguish between genuine evidence and underlying assumption.

This tension is expressed poignantly in an anecdote cited by R. Yosef ibn Aknin in his commentary to the Song of Songs (12^th century).  After noting the works of several rabbinic precedents for utilizing Christian and Muslim writings, he quotes a story related by Shemuel HaNagid:

R. Mazliah b. Albazek the rabbinic judge of Saklia told [Shemuel HaNagid] when he came from Baghdad…that one day in [R. Hai Gaon’s] yeshivah they studied the verse, “let my head not refuse such choice oil” (Psa. 141:5), and those present debated its meaning.  R. Hai of blessed memory told R. Mazliah to go to the Catholic Patriarch and ask him what he knew about this verse, and this upset [R. Mazliah].  When [R. Hai] saw that R. Mazliah was upset, he rebuked him: “Our saintly predecessors who are our guides solicited information on language and interpretation from many religious communities—and even of shepherds, as is well known!”

Although R. Hai Gaon emerges victorious, the voice of R. Mazliah serves as a constant reminder that there is another side to this debate that must be weighed seriously.  The religious pursuit of truth for the sake of Heaven is our highest goal in learning; but it must be a careful search for genuine truth, not a pursuit of the latest fads.  In his Faith and Doubt, Dr. Norman Lamm has set the tone for this mode of inquiry:

Torah is a “Torah of truth,” and to hide from the facts is to distort that truth into myth…It is this kind of position which honest men, particularly honest believers in God and Torah, must adopt at all times, and especially in our times. Conventional dogmas, even if endowed with the authority of an Aristotle—ancient or modern—must be tested vigorously.  If they are found wanting, we need not bother with them.  But if they are found to be substantially correct, we may not overlook them.  We must then use newly discovered truths the better to understand our Torah—the “Torah of truth.”

For further study:

Rabbi Hayyim Angel, “From Black Fire to White Fire: Conversations about Religious Tanakh Learning Methodology” (2008), at www.jewishideas.org/node/50.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel, “Torat Hashem Temima: The Contributions of Rav Yoel Bin-Nun to Religious Tanakh Study,” Tradition 40:3 (Fall 2007), pp. 5-18.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel, “Review of Rabbi Elhanan Samet, Iyyunim be-Parashot ha-Shavua,” in Through an Opaque Lens (New York: Sephardic Publication Foundation, 2006), pp. 21-33.

Rabbi Shalom Carmy, “A Room with a View, but a Room of Our Own,” in Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah: Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy (Northvale, NJ:  Jason Aronson Inc., 1996), pp. 1-38.

Prof. Barry L. Eichler, “Study of Bible in Light of Our Knowledge of the Ancient Near East,” in Modern Scholarship in the Study of Torah:  Contributions and Limitations, ed. Shalom Carmy (Northvale, NJ:  Jason Aronson Inc., 1996), pp. 81-100.

Prof. Marvin Fox, “Judaism, Secularism, and Textual Interpretation,” in Modern Jewish Ethics: Theory and Practice, ed. Marvin Fox (Ohio: Ohio State University Press, 1975), pp. 3-26.

Prof. Uriel Simon, “The Pursuit of Truth that is Required for Fear of God and Love of Torah” (Hebrew), in ha-Mikra va-Anahnu, ed. Uriel Simon (Ramat-Gan: Institute for Judaism and Thought in our Time, 1979), pp. 28-41.

Prof. Ephraim E. Urbach, “The Pursuit of Truth as a Religious Obligation” (Hebrew), in ha-Mikra va-Anahnu, ed. Uriel Simon (Ramat-Gan: Institute for Judaism and Thought in our Time, 1979), pp. 13-27.

            Over the last three centuries non-observance of ritual law evolved into the predominant Jewish lifestyle.  For those Orthodox Jews in the minority who remained committed to the practice of the halakhah, this “modern” situation elicited acute tensions that revolved around the nature of their relationship to those who did not share their religious values.  How did Orthodox Jews deal with the reality of an ever-increasing non-observant Jewish population?  What types of boundaries did they create in order to differentiate themselves? To what degree was a sense of “connectedness” or solidarity among the various components of modern Jewish society still promoted?

My book, Exclusion and Hierarchy: Orthodoxy, Nonobservance, and the Emergence of Modern Jewish Identity (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005), addresses these issues from historical and sociological perspectives.  The study suggests that during the nineteenth century German Orthodoxy in particular developed a new approach to Jewish identity and the structure of modern Jewish society.  While nonobservant Jews were perceived as having moved beyond the boundaries of authentic Judaism, simultaneously the concept of Jewish solidarity and collective identity was not completely rejected.  This was a sharp departure from pre-modern exclusionary attitudes and indicates the specific needs of the Orthodox as a minority group within the predominantly nonobservant German-Jewish population.

            The existence of Jews who deviated from normative halakhic practice is not, in and of itself, an exclusive reality of modern society.  Rabbinic literature is replete with examples that show that like any society, there were always individual Jews who succeeded in living on the periphery.  But be it individuals or groups, in traditional Jewish society there was no question regarding the fact that normative Judaism was defined by allegiance to the halakhah.  Certainly those who succeeded in diverging from this norm knew they had greatly weakened their connection to the Jewish community, if not having severed it completely.  The autonomous Jewish community had the power to excommunicate such deviants, although this measure was rarely used against individuals as the alternative was losing them to the open arms of the church.  But the threat itself of herem (excommunication) was often enough to prevent most potential deserters from taking drastic action. Regarding those groups who staked claims to clearer understandings of God’s word, such as the Karaites, and the Sabbateans, the Jewish community was generally less obliging. The weight of the entire population was thrown against them with the intention of destroying them as a collective body.  When that was no longer possible, harsh measures were passed to reinforce boundaries between the followers of the deviant approach and those loyal to the pre-dominant halakhic tradition.

        The initial sign that changes had begun to take place in the makeup of European Jewish society in the eighteenth century was the increase in the number of individuals who chose not to observe basic Jewish laws, such as Sabbath and dietary restrictions.  This was, at first, a small group that deviated from accepted Jewish norms primarily due to the economic and political opportunities that came along with an increasingly accepting social environment. Only later were fresh ideologies and religious movements put forward that lent theological or philosophical legitimacy to the new types of behaviors.  As the doors of society swung open wider for the Jews, nonobservance increased to the point where there seemed to be little possibility of reversing this phenomenon.  Indeed, by the mid-nineteenth century, nonobservant Jews made up the majority of many major German locales as well as other large communities in Western Europe, while the numbers continued to increase steadily in rural areas and throughout Hungary and Southern Europe. Similarly, in Eastern Europe, despite the many strongholds of Hasidism and traditional life, the last decades of the nineteenth century certainly saw non-observance become a regular fixture—if by no means the norm—in most Jewish communities.  North African and Asian Jews of Sephardic origin were also influenced by modernization, although for the most part the process and character differed from that experienced by their European brethren.

            The gradual way by which nonobservance became a legitimate form of Jewish identity for many Jews, can be described as the “normativization of deviance.”  That is, acts that were previously considered to be the antithesis of Jewish lifestyle became accepted and even preferred options for vast numbers of fully identifying Jews.  This new reality was bound to have its effects on those who maintained allegiance to traditional practice.  For families, the rejection by its members of the values of the home could be devastating, and at the very least, certainly raised questions as to how to adjust to such a situation.  In addition, Jewish communal solidarity as well as public religious life had always been predicated on the uniformity of practice by its members. 

            Following the functional approach to deviance, a sociological paradigm first developed in the works of Emile Durkheim, I suggest that Orthodoxy’s efforts over the last few centuries to define the halakhic and social status of its non-observant brethren, to a great degree, was a means by which it sought to come to grips with its own identity.

           The traditional rabbinical and communal leadership responded to modern deviants as the phenomenon developed.  At the start, the only tools at their disposal were those that had been accepted as the time-honored ways to punish sinners. As deviance spread, however, and the realization that this was not just a passing fad was acknowledged, the responses too evolved.   Were the halakhic and social categories as well as the disciplinary tools that had served previous generations still applicable in these novel times?  Could new approaches be formulated that would take into account the current environment while ensuring allegiance to traditional Jewish values?  Hovering above the various responses to these questions, an overarching issue was being confronted by the representatives of Orthodoxy: what was the meaning of Jewish identity in a modern, heterogeneous Jewish world?

          The new Orthodox attitude toward nonobservance that emerged, particularly from the second half of the 19^th century, was predicated upon what I have termed a “hierarchical relationship”.  This analysis draws on the dichotomy established by British anthropologist Mary Douglas that distinguishes between enclavist and hierarchical societies.  Enclaves are closely related to sects in that they work primarily on the boundary between in and out.  They try to limit the differences between those who are loyal to the group, while focusing on that which unites them in opposition to the outsiders. There were certainly groups within Orthodoxy who could be fully considered “sects”.  I contend, however, that these are extreme examples that demonstrate the potential length to which Jewish groups could go in the quest for survival in what most saw as a virulently hostile environment.  Most Orthodox sectors cultivated attitudes more closely situated within a hierarchical approach.  That is, simultaneously their relationship to the non-observant expressed two seemingly opposite intentions.  They were at once constantly creating boundaries in order to preserve their own unique identity and sense of group solidarity, while at the same time finding ways to allow for the “deviants” to remain within the fold.  A perception evolved within Orthodoxy that accepted the idea that all Jews were part of a greater whole.  By contrast to the “egalitarian” nature of the enclave, however, an internal distinction was forged between those who behaved properly and professed traditional beliefs, who were of preferred status, and those who deviated from these tenets.

            Within the realities of the modern world there were clear advantages for the Orthodox in adopting such a multi-tier construction of Jewish society.  On a practical level it served two needs.   It enabled the Orthodox to protest and deride the views and lifestyles that were becoming prevalent among the majority of the Jews, and to which they were absolutely opposed.  This, in turn, engendered a process of strengthened group identity among the Orthodox adherents.  But the hierarchical relationship also derived from a realistic appraisal of how modern Jewish society differed from its traditional predecessors.  It represented a realization that in a world in which deviance had become normative and even dominant, an absolutely exclusionary approach was untenable.  Room had to be made within their Orthodox outlook for those who identified as Jews despite having abandoned traditional Jewish practice, without legitimizing their actions.

            The hierarchical stance was also advantageous from an ideological perspective.  If Orthodoxy was to abandon all the halakhic and communally accepted precedents from previous generations regarding sanctions against deviants, its claim to be the direct link to traditional Judaism of the past could have been called into question.  On the other hand, traditional Judaism had also nurtured the concept of Jewish solidarity as one of its foundations.  While the public Sabbath desecrator could be classified in the same category as an idolater, the theme of “An Israelite, even if he has sinned, remains an Israelite” was also an accepted principle. Indeed, the realities of modern society made differentiation between “good” and “bad” Jews more necessary for Orthodox group cohesion, but they also proved that it was a less accurate barometer of Jewish identity.  Thus, the tensions between the exclusivist and inclusivist trends within Judaism became a focal point of Orthodox discussion.  By expressing a view that saw the Jewish people both as a whole and as individual parts with a clear perception of who stood at the top of the pyramid, the hierarchical approach enabled Orthodoxy to remain loyal to Judaism’s exclusionary tradition without ignoring its inclusionary one.

            A consideration of the development of Orthodox approaches to non-observant Jews in major modern Jewish centers of the twentieth century supports the contention that the hierarchical approach to Jewish identity eventually became the dominant Orthodox vehicle for interfacing with nonobservant Jews throughout the Jewish world.  Of course a multitude of opinions were put forth by assorted Orthodox factions in response to the local contexts in which they lived and numerous other external factors.  Some placed greater emphasis on maintaining the gradations, while others invested their efforts in trying to be as inclusive as possible.  The former, then, can be identified as veering close to an enclavist attitude, even as few plunged full-force into such an existence.  By the same token, despite the concerted efforts of certain authorities and ideological groups to judge the non-observant generously, there are no examples, at least until the late twentieth century, in which Orthodoxy expressed anything that can be interpreted as pluralism.

            The job of the historian is to identify and describe historical events, personalities, trends and phenomena.  Once the reader is convinced of the rigorousness and value of the author’s analysis, however, he/she is invited to consider the significance of the discussion for understanding contemporary realities.  For those—like myself—who are troubled by the negativity that often characterizes the relationship between Orthodox and non-observant Jews, the explication of the hierarchical model may serve as a helpful tool in understanding the current dynamic.  Is the hierarchical relationship simply one that enables the Orthodox Jew to find a balance between exclusivism and solidarity that he/she can live with?  Or, under today’s realities, does its primarily lead to the perpetuation of a sense of superiority on the part of the Orthodox that actually exacerbates internal Jewish animosity?  If the latter is the case, it may be time for creative individuals within the Orthodox community to devote their energies toward promoting new approaches to Jewish collective identity that are devoid of these characteristics.

Selected Bibiliography

Breuer, Mordechai, Modernity Within Tradition, trans. Elizabeth Petuchowski (New

York, 1992).

Douglas, Mary, In the Wilderness (Sheffield, England, 1993).

Durkheim, Emile, The Division of Labor in Society, trans. George Simpson (Glencoe, Ill,        1960).

Ellenson, David H., Tradition and Transition (Lanham, 1989).

Erikson, Kai T., Wayward Puritans - A Study in the Sociology of Deviance (New York,       London, and Sydney, 1966).

Ferziger, Adam S., Exclusion and Hierarchy: Orthodoxy, Non-Observance and the

Emergence of Modern Jewish Identity (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005).

Katz, Jacob, Divine Law in Human Hands (Jerusalem, 1998).

Schacter, Jacob J. (ed.), Jewish Tradition and the Nontraditional Jew, (Northvale, New

Jersey, 1992).

Zohar, Zvi and Sagi, Avi, Ma’agalei Zehut Yehudit (Tel Aviv, 2000).

Blacklists: Another Black Eye for the Israeli Chief Rabbinate

By Rabbis Marc D. Angel and Avraham Weiss

The Talmud teaches that the mission of rabbinic scholars is to increase peace in the world. One interpretation is that they are to bring peace between Jews and the Almighty. Another interpretation is that they are to bring peace among all Jews, and indeed, among society as a whole. The challenge of rabbinic leadership is to actualize both interpretations.

Peace between Jews and God: Orthodox Judaism sees Torah, mitzvot and halakha as the key ingredients in our relationship with God. Orthodox rabbis devote their lives to fostering the ideals, values and observances of Torah Judaism. The hope is that when Jews find spiritual fulfillment in Torah and mitzvot, they will also find peace in their relationship with the Almighty.

This is precisely what the Chief Rabbinate represented when it was led by such luminaries as Rabbi BenzionMeir Hai Uziel and Rabbi Yitzhak Herzog, both of blessed memory. It was then an honored institution. It was visionary, inclusive, loving, compassionate, inspiring Jews across the spectrum to come closer to Torah.

With profound sadness we note that the present Rabbanut has not lived up to these ideals. Rather, it has fostered policies and attitudes that are exclusionary, insensitive and alienating. It has generated controversy and ill-will within our community. It has caused unnecessary grief to countless many who have come before the rabbinate with personal status issues; in particular, converts and those seeking to marry. 

Indeed, the Orthodox rabbinic establishment in Israel has lost sight of its responsibility to bring peace between Jews and God. The Israeli Chief Rabbinate, in its increasing authoritarianism and insularity, is a chief source of dissension within Israel and the world Jewish community. Instead of being a bastion of God’s Torah, the Rabbanut is perceived as a power-hungry, extremist entity that is bent on forcing its narrow views on Jewish society.

In a most recent outrage, it has been discovered that the Chief Rabbinate blacklists Orthodox rabbis who do not fit into their extreme, haredi worldview. Thus, hundreds of devoted, learned and upright rabbis are not trusted by the Rabbanut to perform conversions or even to attest to the Jewishness of individuals.

This egregious disregard for upstanding Orthodox rabbis is another black eye for the Orthodox rabbinic establishment. It demonstrates the suppression of legitimate diversity within halakha; it seeks to discredit anyone who will not fall into line with the narrow Orthodoxy that the Rabbanut espouses. The Chief Rabbinate and its cohorts promote policies that alienate Jews from God, that alienate would-be converts from Judaism, and that undermine the religious idealism that is the true foundation of Torah Judaism.

Peace among Jews: Matters have gotten worse. In its most recent ploy, the Israeli Chief Rabbinate has released a draft of a plan to accept only designated diaspora courts, not only for conversions – but for marriage and divorce as well. The stakes are higher, as invalidating divorces, sometimes going back years, could lead to irreversible problems of mamzerut in Israel, America and throughout the world. The Rabbinical Council of America (RCA) is mentioned as a court that will help the Chief Rabbinate carry out its decree. 

It is critical that the Knesset and Jews worldwide challenge these dicta. The time has come for the Knesset and the Israeli government to restrict this increasing authoritarianism that attempts to exclude rabbis from the diaspora who do not share such narrow haredi opinions. The time has come for rabbis within the RCA to join in raising a voice of protest and not capitulate to the demands of the Chief Rabbinate of Israel.

Today, Israel’s citizenry is pushing back against the Chief Rabbinate. Many conversions in Israel are being done outside of the rabbinate. An alternative Kashrut authority is certifying food kosher. A growing number of Israelis are marrying outside of the rabbinate. 

It is precisely now when the Rabbanut is losing standing amongst Israelis, that it is doubling down and attempting to consolidate its power by introducing stricter ordinances not only in Israel, but in the diaspora. This effort must be rejected by all. The Knesset must declare that the Chief Rabbinate is no longer authorized to establish policies for the State of Israel and for Jews around the world. The Orthodox community worldwide, who wish the State of Israel to function as a modern Jewish democracy, must raise a voice of protest. 

We believe that Israeli and diaspora Jewry want—and deserve—a rabbinate that is intellectually vibrant, compassionate and inclusive.

It has been aptly noted that it is better to walk alone than to walk with a crowd going in the wrong direction. The Orthodox rabbinic establishment in Israel and the diaspora have been going in the wrong direction. It is time for all thinking Jews to turn the tide back in a proper direction. It is time for us to foster real peace between us and our God. It is time to work to bring genuine peace among ourselves.

“Rabbinic scholars increase peace in the world.” Let this be so.

“It isn’t enough to talk about peace. One must believe in it. And it isn't enough to believe in it. One must work at it.”

       —Eleanor Roosevelt ^[1]

       Many people wish to break social bonds and instill fear between groups. I’ve seen this attitude firsthand. Recently, I posted a picture of a Jewish-Muslim dialogue session I led for the local community. The purpose of the session was to encourage interfaith dialogue and mutual understanding between communities. The reaction to the dinner on social media, which I thought—hoped—would be uniformly positive and respectful, included comments that were anything but. Of the hateful comments my photo received, the one that stood out in my mind was: “Not the first time terrorists and bankers have worked together.”

       I was sad—disappointed—to see how many ignorant Jews started Muslim-bashing and how many ignorant Muslims started Jew-bashing. Aren’t we, as a modern society, better than this? Haven’t we moved beyond the baseless hatreds that defined earlier generations? I came to realize that anti-Semitism and Islamophobia are tied together, and that all vulnerable minorities need to stick together.

       One of the central commitments of the Jewish faith is to work to improve the world. More than 3,000 years ago, God told Abraham: “And you shall be a blessing” to others (Genesis 12:2). Rabbi Akiva taught that the principle to love one’s neighbor “is the major principle of the Torah.”^[2] It was Hillel who taught: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor.” This is Judaism’s central teaching. He added: “This is the whole Torah! All the rest is commentary” (BT Shabbat 31a). Rambam explains that the two goals of halakha are to perfect our inner world and to eradicate injustice and suffering from the outer world.^[3] “The commandments were given only to refine God’s creatures.”^[4]

       If we believe in Jewish virtues, we have to study them and make them manifest in our lives. What is one way we can begin to understand the universality of Jewish social justice action? At the most basic level, the imperative to save life is a crucial concept of the Torah’s understanding of interpersonal responsibility; it is undeniable that the ethos of Judaism is about affirming the inherent holiness of life. Rabbi Dr. Irving (Yitz) Greenberg, one of Modern Orthodoxy’s most influential theologians, writes:

Judaism’s ultimate dream… is to vanquish death totally. In fact, since God is all good an all life, ideally there should be no death in God's creation in the first place. Classic Judaism therefore taught that when the ultimate redemption is achieved, when the Messiah comes, all those who have died will come to life again. Resurrection of the dead will nullify death retroactively.^[5]

       Rav Yitz’s comment is a powerful reminder that we are to affirm life in this world. And, as Rav Yitz teaches, we don’t have to consider about the quantity of life (as has been traditionally emphasized), but also about the quality of life, an idea he suggests has increased weight in the post-Holocaust era of humanity. But how do we approach this view? In an earlier generation, Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik wrote:

There is nothing so physically and spiritually destructive as diverting one’s attention from this world. And, by contrast, how courageous is halakhic man who does not flee from this world, who does not seek to escape to some pure, supernal realm.^[6]

       Thus, through the appreciation of life, we not only affirm an ethical commitment to others but also a belief in God. It is for this reason that embracing Tzelem Elokim—that all humans are created in the image of God—is so foundational to Jewish values. The essence of the creation in relationship to the Creator is an undeviating bond. And because of this link, we learn repeatedly of its importance to the idea of humanity’s shared and singular heritage:

Adam was created alone in order to teach us that causing a single to perish is like destroying the entire world, and saving a single soul is like saving the entire world. Another teaching: Adam was created alone for the sake of peace, so that we cannot say to each other: “My ancestor was greater than yours.” We are all created from the dust of the earth… and none of us can claim that our ancestors were greater than anyone else’s (BT Sanhedrin 38a).

       Moreover, because mitzvot ben adam l’haveiro (ethics) may actually have more religious weight than mitzvot ben adam laMakom (religious engagement with the divine), social justice work naturally follows a path of treating every human being with the respect they inherently deserve. On this point, Rabbi Elchanan Wasserman, one of the most prominent pre-war Lithuanian rabbis, writes:

For “among two hundred is to be found a hundred,” [a common rabbinic idiom], meaning that in all mitzvot between man and his fellow there is also a component between man and God. Why then should they be lessened by being between man and his fellow? And it is for this reason that the Rosh saw mitzvot between man and his fellow as being more weighty, for they contain both elements.^[7]

       As we discern from the above passage, to be religious is to emulate the compassionate ways of God. Thus, this principle underlies all Torah study and related Jewish social justice activities:

Rabbi Elazar quoted this verse, “He has told you, O man, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: Only to do justice (literally, “to do mishpat”), to love goodness (hessed), and to walk modestly with your God” (Micah 6:8). What does this verse imply? “To do justice” means to act in accordance with the principles of justice. “To love goodness” means to let your actions be guided by principles of loving-kindness. “To walk modestly with your God” means to assist needy families at their funerals and weddings [by giving humbly, in private]. (BT Sukkah 59b)
 

       Engaging in Jewish social justice work as a religious enterprise means that activists don’t merely seek the win at the end. To paraphrase Levinas, human “uniqueness lies in the responsibility for the other man.”[8] The means to social betterment must be just and holy to ensure just and holy ends. Rav Ya’akov Yitzchak of Pzhysha (the “Holy Yehudi,” an eighteenth-century Hassidic rebbe) was asked: “Why in the verse, ‘Justice, justice you shall pursue’ [Deuteronomy 16:20] is the word ‘justice’ repeated?” The rebbe answered that the repetition is meant to convey that not only must the ends we pursue be just, but so too must the means we employ to achieve those ends.^[9]

       Who are the ones who must bear the burden of repairing the world and bending it toward justice? The work of repair cannot be solely upon the Gentiles (who make up the majority of the world's population) while Jews, a small minority in the world, benefit but do not contribute. Rabbi Soloveitchik was adamant about this point:

Since we live among Gentiles, we share in the universal historical experience. The universal problems faced by humanity are also faced by the Jews. Famine, disease, war, oppression, materialism, atheism, permissiveness, pollution of the environment—all these are great problems which history has imposed not only on the general community but also on the covenantal community. We have no rights to tell mankind that these problems are exclusively theirs… the Jew is a member of humanity.^[10]

       Working to bring more peace and justice into the world is a big task. It is not enough to look into legal codes solely to inform our decision-making process and moral considerations. Consider the words of Ramban:

Now this is a great principle, for its impossible to mention in the Torah all aspects of a person’s conduct with one’s neighbors and friends, and all of one’s various transactions, and the ordinances of all societies and countries. But since God mentioned many of them—such as “you shall not go about as a talebearer” (Leviticus 19:16), “you shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge” (Leviticus 19:18), “neither shall you stand idly by the blood of your neighbor” (Leviticus 19:16), “you shall not curse the deaf” (Leviticus 19:14), “you shall rise before the elder” (Leviticus 19:32), and the like—God reverted to state in a general way that, in all matters, one should do what is right and good, including even compromise and going beyond the requirements of the law.^[11]

       Indeed, peace and redemption depend on work happening all over the globe. Religious conscience has the potential to ensure peace while also having an effect of furthering justice, compassion, and dignity in regions of the world where these notions are not yet entrenched. There is a need to harmonize gratitude in the quiet prayerful presence of God, while also knowing there is real suffering and brokenness in the world. Therefore, one of the most powerful tools in this field of work is the strength to refuse to look away and be silent.

       But how do we proceed knowing that the path ahead is difficult? At the most basic level, working together supports spirits during hard times. Doris Haddock, a social activist also known as “Granny D” (1910–2010) was 98 years old when she gave a speech about how she was transformed during her experiences of living in the time of the Great Depression. She remarked: “Maybe we were hungry sometimes, but did we starve? No, because we had our friends and family and the earth to sustain us….”^[12] For the human mind, the darkest times are among the most frightening. When we cannot clearly see what is happening around us, we shrink inward, unable to navigate the world physically and emotionally. Certainly, our presence has the possibility to remove the darkness in others. There are rare and unique moments when we can show up for other groups in a way that builds trust.

       Too often, societal norms teach us that independence is the primary virtue. But in fact, the notions of living in states of inter-dependence and co-existence are just as powerful. To be sure, we must learn to hold one another close in challenging times. Rabbi Joseph Telushkin relates a parable:

A little boy was struggling to lift a heavy stone but could not budge it. The boy’s father, who happened to be watching, said to his son, “Are you using all your strength?”

         “Yes, I am,” the boy said with irritation.

               “No, you’re not,” the father answered. “You have not asked me to help you.”^[13]

       It is undeniable, however, that there is much hate within the hearts of a vast number of people around the world. How best to engage with these individuals who, seemingly, have already closed off their internal avenues of reasoned dialogue? Is it even worth engaging with them? On this topic, Rav Kook teaches:

When interacting with a morally corrupt person, it would be appropriate to hate them as a result of their moral faults. But from the perspective of their Tzelem Elokim (inner sparks of Godliness), it's appropriate to treat this person with love….”^[14]

       To seek another’s deepest inner value is fundamental to Jewish consciousness and social justice actions. Why, then, does finding the inner value in others not seem to be a central concern for Jewish discourse today? There are five primary challenges to the Jewish community engaging fully in Jewish social justice leadership right now:

1.   Elitism. Among some, there is a sense that Jews are more special and holier than Gentiles.

2.   Narrow-Minded Traditionalism. There is increasingly a slide to the right in traditional communities that are moving toward deeper societal isolation.

3.   Watered-Down Tikkun Olam. Jewish activists often join secular social justice movement without bringing real Jewish wisdom or spirituality to the engagement.

4.   Moral Priorities. There is a sense that Jews are alone or are hated in the world, and thus we should only take care of ourselves since no one else will.

5.    False Sense of Relevance. There is a perception (based upon civil rights stories) that Jews are still at the epicenter of change-making.

       How do we remedy these challenges? There is no doubt that Jews are feeling more isolated today than in the past 70 years. But the opposite story can also be told. American Jews have never experienced such security, acceptance, and integration. It is true that we have unique obligations to our fellow Jews but that does not preclude us from also actualizing another existential component of the Jew: our humanity. Jewish solidarity can be coupled with human solidarity.

       One of the vital decisions activists can make is to decide whether we wish to be on the side of listening and healing or on the side of waiting. Activists do not engage in this crucial work because we are promised a reward. As it says: “Whoever has compassion for [God’s] creatures is shown compassion from Heaven” (BT Shabbat 151b). Rather than waiting to witness the spiritual recompense for our deeds, we engage in this work because we love others and feel empathy for others’ suffering. We seek to emulate God’s ways:

The Talmud teaches: “The Torah begins with an act of kindness, and ends with an act of kindness. It begins with an act of kindness, for it says, ‘God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them’ (Genesis 3:21).  And it ends with an act of kindness, for it says, ‘He [God] buried him [Moses] in the valley.”^[15]
 

       One of the costs of opening our hearts to vulnerable populations of the world is the nightmares and anxiety it produces. It is haunting to deal with echoes of orphans crying from broken cribs, hospital rooms filled with casualties from senseless civil wars, refugee camps filled with generations of families, factory farms slicing jugular veins without pause, jail cells stuffed with people who need to be rehabilitated rather than punished, and janitor closets where invisible workers toil out of sight and out of mind from the greater populace. But we must do our best to accept the challenges of assisting these people, even at great sacrifice to our emotional cores.

       Each of us has something to share. Anne Frank’s message of not needing “to wait a moment before make the world better” is an inspirational aphorism that can push us to use the talents we have to actualize our unique potential. Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks explains that Judaism cannot be reduced to some strict Kantian calculation of a “universal imperative.” Rather, Judaism is a deeply subjective and relative religion where everyone has a unique calling in this world:

There is no life without a task; no person without a talent; no place without a fragment of God’s light waiting to be discovered and redeemed; no situation without its possibility of sanctification; no moment without its call. It may take a lifetime to learn how to find these things, but once we learn, we realize in retrospect that all it ever took was the ability to listen…. He whispers our name—and the greatest reply, the reply of Abraham, is simply hineni: “Here I am,” ready to heed your call, to mend a fragment of Your all-too-broken world.^[16]

       I think the basis of values-driven and mission-driven efforts is the notion that we just don’t look at the small annoyances that hold us back. Instead, there is an obligation to look beyond the inconveniences of the work and look towards the ultimate goal of healing the world. To be a passionate advocate means worrying less about folks throwing water on our embers of compassion, and focusing more on feeding our fires. In other words, more than battling the darkness that surrounds us, let's infuse ourselves and those around us with light. We are to be focused on the big picture.

       While Jews have a unique holy mission in the world, we dare not look down upon Gentiles or other faith groups in our pursuit of universal justice. Indeed, we must emerge in a faith-rooted manner that is transformative for us, as well as for populations who experience oppression and injustice. To be sure, there are texts from Jewish tradition that imply we have a higher obligation to Jews than to Gentiles (BT Bava Metzia 71a). Yet, there are also texts that instruct that we are equally obligated to all (BT Gittin 61a). Nachmanides teaches that: “We are commanded to save the life of a non-Jew and to save him from harm, that if he was drowning in a river or a stone fell on him, that we must use all of our strength and be burdened with saving him and if he was sick, we engage to heal him” (Sefer haMitzvot, Mitzvah 16).

       Human solidarity is something to work toward and cultivate. When immigrant children recently found themselves under attack in America, I found myself praying, under the stars, in a circle of strangers. A young woman to the left took my hand. A young woman to the right took my hand. They were no longer Mexican, Christian, brown, women, DREAMers. I was no longer Jewish, American, white, a man, a citizen. They were all those things and I was all of those things. But, for a brief moment, difference fell away. We were one: Not strangers, just humanity. All of us humbly sinking together into the harmonious unity of the cosmos, in solidarity with each other and with creation.

Pathologizing normal stages of faith development negatively impacts individuals who choose to identify with Jewish faith communities. In this article, I will discuss the merits of a developmental approach to faith, and will demonstrate that a developmental view of faith is consistent with ancient Jewish tradition. I hope that my approach will allow us to reframe the discussion about some of the observed phenomena in the Jewish community that we tend to pathologize, and to approach these phenomena from a different perspective.

In this article I will:

• Introduce Fowler’s structural stages of faith development;
• Demonstrate that Fowler’s stages are consistent with traditional Jewish sources;
• Discuss an optimal environment in which faith stage development can occur; and
• Give examples of normal faith stage development that are pathologized and discuss the negative impacts that arise as a result.

Fowler’s Structural Stages of Faith Development

A classic treatment of faith development commonly taught in pastoral curricula is James Fowler’s book, Stages of Faith.[1] Fowler’s book is based on his own original research, as well as on Jean Piaget’s work in the area of cognitive development,[2] Lawrence Kohlberg’s work in the area of stages of moral development,[3] and Erik Erikson’s work in the area of stages of psychosocial development,[4] as well as the work of numerous others. Readers wanting more information about Fowler’s methodology and conclusions are directed to his excellent book. It is worthwhile reading for those who want to understand their own faith journey in a more profound way.

Fowler posits seven structural stages of faith development (see chart below[5]). Individuals progress through these stages over the course of their entire life (well beyond the end of Piaget’s cognitive developmental stages) and they do so in a stepwise (or spiral) fashion—first learning and knowing something with what Fowler terms “the logic of rational certainty,” and at some later point assimilating this with the “logic of conviction,” thus providing a foundation for the next structural stage.[6]

To address his concern that some readers might find his model judgmental, thinking that later stages are “better” or more “mature,” Fowler states that each stage has its own dignity and integrity, and that people at later stages are not inherently more valuable or more spiritual. Additionally, a significant percentage of individuals that Fowler surveyed remained at Stage 3, or even Stage 2, throughout their adult life.

What is important, then, is not that individuals progress through the stages to achieve a higher degree of spirituality; as Fowler states, spirituality can be achieved at any stage. The important observation is that individuals can progress through stages and be at different stages at different points in their life. The same individual’s spirituality and outlook may manifest differently at each stage. Fowler’s faith stages are a model[7] for understanding human faith in a composite sense, and may in fact not be universal to all individuals or to faiths other than two major Western monotheistic religions represented in his studies (Judaism and Christianity).

Are Fowler’s Stages Consistent with Jewish Tradition?

The Mishna in Avot 5:24 presents, as Robert Travers Herford writes in his commentary Pirke Aboth—The Ethics of the Talmud: Sayings of the Fathers,[8] “the stages in the life” of an individual who follows the Torah. This Mishna, as well as the following two Mishnayot, are redacted beyond the original end of the last chapter of Avot.[9] Evidence that it has been moved from its original placement elsewhere in the tractate[10] points to the possibility that the redactors moved it because of its homiletical and representative value of the entire tractate.[11]

For the purpose of the subsequent discussion, please see the chart below, where I present Avot 5:24 and my own translation, organized in pairs and numbered as “stages” corresponding to Fowler’s stages. In cases where my translation departs from Herford’s more conventional translation, I have cited Herford’s translation and supported my choice to depart from it in the endnotes.

The parallels between Avot 5:24 and Fowler’s structural stages demonstrate that our sages embraced a stages of faith model, and that Fowler, Piaget, Kohlberg, Erikson, et al support observations that our sages made thousands of years ago about human spiritual development. While there are chronological differences between the Avot 5:24 epochs and Fowler’s stages, what is important is that the text of Avot 5:24 outlines the movement of an individual’s spiritual life through a progression of stages, each stage having different hallmarks.

In Avot 5:24 there are fourteen “ages,” or epochs. Pairing the epochs yields seven sets. The first of each set of epochs is a physical activity, or, if you will, an experience. The second of each set of epochs is a spiritual or emotional benchmark, or watershed. These correspond to Fowler’s “logic of rational certainty” and “logic of conviction” at each stage.

The epochs of “Being Commanded” and “Logical Reasoning” (ages 13 and 15) correspond to Fowler’s Intuitive-Projective stage (Stage 1) where “religion is learned through experiences.” Since young children at Stage 0 are not yet capable of learning about religion through experience, there is no reason for them to be obligated to have those experiences except for hinukh—to habituate them to those experiences so that they are not totally foreign. Only at Stage 1 do children become obligated to have religious experiences, since they are now at a stage where they can learn religion through those experiences.

The epochs of “Physical Strength” and “Understanding” (ages 30 and 40) correspond to Fowler’s Synthetic-Conventional stage (Stage 3.) Many, but not all, people at this stage choose to live their lives by “conventional wisdom.” People at this stage typically are well into their career, perhaps settling down and having a family. People who choose to follow this route might feel that their choice is justified because they have reaped the “obvious” rewards of having done so: a family, a sense of financial security, competence at one’s vocation, and a sense of fitting in to a community. The understanding at this stage might be that working hard at a career is rewarding.

The epochs of “Advising” and “Age” (ages 50 and 60) map to Fowler’s Indivituative-Reflective stage (Stage 4). When one has a conventional understanding of how life works, one is tempted to advise or mentor others and suggest that since a particular set of choices worked for them, the same choices ought to work well for others. Of course, people lives their own lives and are often loath to listen to advice. Even when they do, the results are often quite different.[16] One who is in the habit of advising others, only to be disregarded, or to be disappointed that the same choices made by others lead to a different result for them, may feel “aged”—that they are no longer relevant and no longer have any insight to contribute. Individuals at this stage, which is characterized by a sense of conflict generated by the types of feelings described above, sometimes act in ways that appear non-normative and may even profess non-belief and may appear to others at Stage 3 as lapsed in their faith.[17]

The epochs of “Return” and “Self-mastery” (ages 70 and 80) correspond to Fowler’s Conjunctive stage (Stage 5). One has resolved the conflicts in one’s tradition by developing an understanding that can accommodate multiple different “truths” that overlap in some areas and are disjointed in others. This allows an individual to once again find comfort in his or her tradition and return to it. While an individual at this stage may continue to act in ways that might appear non-normative, they no longer profess non-belief. Their behavior is driven by re-embracing one’s belief rather than an appearance of tentative rejection of it due to conflict.

Is There an Optimal Way to Foster Faith Development?

The parallels between Avot 5:24 and Fowler’s stages suggest that our sages viewed an individual’s life as a progression of stages, and that a faith stage model is consistent with traditional Jewish thought. A separate, related question is whether faith stage development is a positive value in Judaism. Ought Jewish communities invest time in thinking about how to foster the natural process of faith development?

Fowler asserts that each stage has its own dignity and integrity, and that later stages are not “better” or “more mature” than earlier stages, only different. Individuals can attain and live fully spiritual lives in each stage, although the means by which that might be done differ from stage to stage. In Abraham Maslow’s work Motivation and Personality, he elaborates on how one might achieve “self-transcendence” by presenting his Hierarchy of Human Needs.[18] In secular literature, self-transcendence might be termed “spirituality,”[19] and in a traditional Jewish worldview, one might term this concept temimut.[20] One important goal of faith in Jewish tradition is striving for a relationship with God that reflects the value of temimut. This striving is experienced in different ways at each stage of faith development.

R. Abraham Kook, in his discussion of the purpose of life in his Ein Ayah,[21] asserts a similar idea. Rav Kook suggests that the sole purpose of human life is to fulfill a specific personal mission that the soul was given by God, at a particular moment in history. When God creates a particular human, it is evidence that the moment to fulfill her or his specific mission has arrived.

According to R. Kook, during each of our lives, we each are bid to intuit God’s mission for us and execute that mission. To discern that mission, we must each engage in a personal relationship with God. When we do not engage in a relationship with God, we will not be able to discern that mission and our lives will be irrelevant, as if we had never existed.

Rav Kook’s framing strongly reinforces the idea that Jewish communities must support individuals[22] in their personal quest for temimut (self-transcendence) in their relationships with God. Jewish communities must create emotional and physical spaces that facilitate encounters with God and support individuals during their quest to discern the reason for their existence in this world and fulfill their God-given mission.

Maslow asserts that self-transcendence is impossible to attain unless lower human needs, such as physical, economic, and emotional safety are assured. Many of our values, such as tzedakah (charity,) gemilut hassadim (acts of kindness,) and ahavat hinam (embracing the other) are aimed at assuring that those needs are met to support individuals in their quest for temimut. When we, as communities, do not work to provide physical safety, economic safety, and emotional safety we prevent individuals from achieving temimut. When we pathologize that which is a normal manifestation of a faith development stage, we deprive individuals of their much-needed emotional safety and self-esteem, and ultimately prevent them from fulfilling the purpose that their Creator has intended for them.

At the end of Fowler’s book Stages of Faith, he speculates as to how one advances from one faith stage to another. Is it purely a matter of will, or is something else involved? Fowler discusses interventions of what he calls “extraordinary grace,” and what our tradition might call in Aramaic si’yata dishmaya, or in Hebrew, hashgaha peratit (divine assistance.) Fowler concludes that “the question of whether there will be faith on earth is finally God’s business.” In order to create and support healthy Jewish communities, we need to conduct ourselves in ways that will not interfere with the process of making space to let God into our lives so the important business of faith development can take place. We need to be careful not to interfere with “God’s business.”

I want to turn to a few practical examples of contemporary issues in the normatively religious Jewish community and analyze whether they are pathologies or whether they are manifestations of normal faith development stages.

Early Childhood Education

Many individuals who have been educated in Jewish schools reach a point in their lives where they go looking in the Pentateuch for the stories that they were taught as children, only to discover that they are nowhere to be found. For example, the midrashic story about Avraham Avinu smashing the idols in his father Terah’s workshop is nowhere to be found in the Book of Genesis.[23] Many adults criticize Jewish schools for presenting this material literally, misleading children, and setting them up to be disillusioned with our tradition when they become teenagers or young adults and discover the “truth” about those stories. They treat the teaching of these midrashic Bible stories literally as a pathology.[24]

Based on a faith stages model, a child at Stage 0 or Stage 1 of their faith development is not yet ready to process this midrashic material in any other way. The midrashic material must be taught in a literal, engaging way, as if it in fact actually happened, if one expects children to continue to develop their Jewish faith later on in life. Material must be taught differently, depending on the audience and probable faith stage, with an eye to presenting material in an age- and developmentally appropriate way.

The future of the Jewish people depends on being able to transmit our traditions to our children in a way that is engaging and speaks to where they are in their faith development. Additionally, the disappointment they might experience as teenagers or young adults when they discover that perhaps Midrash is not meant to be entirely or only literal is to be expected, and is part of the normal course of their faith development.

Educators must understand this dynamic, and be mindful that how they present the material depends on the faith stage of the target audience. Students must be given developmentally appropriate information and tools to enable them to grow in understanding of our tradition, and be prepared for the inevitable conflicts they will experience. In the prevalent educational model, students are largely classed by age rather than individual developmental stage, and there is sound social reasoning for this practice. Nevertheless, educators must be aware that developmental stages track only roughly, not exactly, by age. Thought must be given to evaluating the faith developmental stage of each student and possibly creating multiple tracks within each cohort to present material in an appropriate way.

“Nonbelieving” Members of Normatively Religious Communities

Another phenomenon of interest is the rise of self-professed non-believers who affiliate with normatively religious communities for purely social reasons.[25] Some view this phenomenon as a pathology and are concerned about the threat it poses to their communities.[26] In considering Fowler’s Stage 3, one can view these self-professed non-believers as a manifestation of a normal faith development stage rather than a pathology. The “authority” in this particular Stage 3 manifestation is peer pressure.

In other communities, this conformity may manifest in less obvious ways—conformity in dress and theology, for example—but it is there, and it is normal. When our communities treat this form of purely social affiliation with a community, or other forms of conformity, as a pathology, rather than the normal developmental faith stage that it is, any corrective interventions taken interfere with the basic human needs these individuals have, such as belonging or self-esteem, and prevent their ability to attain temimut (self-transcendence) at that stage.

The Religious Crisis of Stage 4 as a Pathology

An individual at Stage 4 of faith development may experience deep doubts about the fundamental assumptions taken to be true at previous stages of faith, and act in a way perceived by others as rejection of belief or practice. A cursory look at various websites that discuss how normatively religious individuals and Jewish communities “ought to” behave[27] might lead one to the conclusion that one must observe the commandments a particular way: lack of particular beliefs (such as a literal belief in Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles), the choice of a particular synagogue or school, and even what material one chooses to read, are all grounds for exclusion in some normatively religious Jewish communities. Fowler predicts that at least a significant percentage of people will experience Stage 4 at some point in their faith journey, where they question numerous aspects of their faith that are a source of conflict for them. People experiencing Stage 4 may not look or act as members of a normatively religious Jewish community, yet Fowler and Avot 5:24 assert that such behavior is a normal manifestation of faith development, even in a normatively religious community.

Individuals who are at Stage 4 of their faith development and who belong to normatively religious communities that treat Stage 4 as a pathology rather than a normal stage of faith development, and experience criticism of their questions and misgivings as a result may experience a deep sense of loss and shame when they are told that are not normatively religious and that they ought to be excluded from their faith community because of perceived heresy. Treating Stage 4 behaviors as pathological deprives some such individuals of the basic human needs for belonging and self-esteem that they must have in order to achieve temimut (self-transcendence) at Stage 4.

The View of Divorce as a Crisis in Normatively Religious Communities

Many people bemoan the high divorce rate in the Modern Orthodox community,[28] and attribute that problem primarily to factors external to the community.[29] While this might be true, one of the many factors driving divorce is how Jewish communities sometimes construe normal faith development stages as pathological.

When two people choose to marry, there is no automatic guarantee that both will progress through faith stages at the same rate, and at the same time, or that either or both of the spouses will progress through faith stages at all. A significant percentage of those surveyed by Fowler in doing his research remained at Stage 3 or even Stage 2 well into mid-life and old age. It is quite likely that spouses may experience significant periods of time where they are at different faith stages. Spouses who are at different structural faith stages, and buy into some of the beliefs about how normatively religious people ought to behave (discussed in the previous section,) may be unable to empathize with their spouse’s experience and feelings. When spouses are unable to validate each other and empathize with each other, a serious handicap is introduced into the relationship.

For example, one spouse might be at Stage 3, while the other is deep in the questioning of their faith that often accompanies Stage 4. A spouse who is at Stage 3 might view the questioning Stage 4 spouse as departing from what they thought was a shared vision of their lives together. A spouse who is at Stage 4 might experience the Stage 3 spouse as being unsympathetic or judgmental. When we do not prepare our communities for the almost certain inevitability of differing rates of progression through the faith stages, some of which may present as retrograde progress, we set them up for misery and troubled or failed marriages.

The causes of divorce in any particular marriage are complex. Explicitly or implicitly communicating that various manifestations of faith stage development are pathological introduces yet another handicap into the mix of factors that may lead a couple to divorce. An explicit message that a progression through different faith stages is normal and consistent with Jewish tradition would support individuals and couples and help them view their spouses more kindly and charitably in the eventuality of a faith stage disparity.

Perhaps this is what is meant by the phrase ezer k’negdo in Genesis (2:18 and 2:20). Even when one spouse opposes the other ritually or theologically with every fiber of his or her body due to a faith stage disparity, one must still find a way to support the other spouse’s spiritual growth. Couples who are unable to grow spiritually together, with all the pain and struggle that might entail, will surely grow apart.

Conclusion

I am hopeful that we can frame future discussions in a way that we can view some of the phenomena presented above as normal as opposed to pathological. We need to give each member of our community space, at whatever faith stage they are, to experience that stage and to attain the convictions of that stage, free from outside interference, free from judgment, and free from any of the messages or behaviors on the part of others that might threaten their physical, emotional, economic, or spiritual safety. As a community, we can afford to be much more “on message” about normal faith development and conduct ourselves in ways that are conducive to individuals attaining temimut at whatever faith stage they are, thereby enabling them to fulfill their mission in this world and bring about the ultimate redemption, please God, speedily and in our days.

To our members and friends,

It has been a remarkably productive year for our educational offerings through the Institute for Jewish Ideas an Ideals. For my annual report, please see here https://www.jewishideas.org/article/national-scholar-fifth-year-report.

Here are some upcoming offerings for the summer months:

On June 24-25 (Sunday-Monday), I will give five classes at Yeshivat Chovevei Torah’s annual study days on Bible and Jewish Thought. It will be held at the SAR High School in Riverdale: 503 W 259th St, Bronx, NY. The event is co-sponsored by the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals.

For more information and to register, go to http://www.yctorah.org/giving/yemeiiyun/.

On Shabbat, July 6-7, I will be scholar-in-residence for the Sephardic Community Alliance in Deal, New Jersey.

On Wednesdays, July 11, 18, and 25, from 10:30-11:45 am, I will give a three-part series on the Parashah at Lamdeinu, Teaneck, at Congregation Beth Aaron, 950 Queen Anne Road, Teaneck, New Jersey. To register, go to http://www.lamdeinu.org/

This past year, I have worked with the senior administration at Ben Porat Yosef Yeshiva Day School in Paramus, New Jersey on a revolutionary new Tanakh curriculum. They will be rolling out the first phase, for grades 1-3, this coming year. You can read the recent newspaper article by Rabbi Saul Zucker in the Jewish Link of New Jersey at https://www.jewishlinknj.com/features/25472-fluency-and-mastery-beginning-with-foundations

We are coming along beautifully for our special communal programs for the coming year. In my next report, I will post the final schedule. These new programs will take our educational offerings to a much higher level of involvement in the broader Jewish community.

As always, thank you for all of your support, and we will continue to spread our vision to the broader Jewish community.

Rabbi Hayyim Angel

National Scholar

Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals