National Scholar Updates

My name is Jeannie Appleman.  I’m an organizer with the Jewish Funds for Justice.  My family and I  daven at the modern orthodox synagogue near us in Long Island.  I organize and train rabbinical and cantorial students, including from Chovevei Torah, and Rabbis, from all four movements in a particular approach to transforming our synagogues into “covenantal communities.”

What do I mean by covenantal community? I mean a community whose members believe and act on a premise that each of our futures is inextricably intertwined, and that we have a stake in each others’ future.  I mean a community whose members truly partner with and act to improve our city with others across race, class and religious lines based on shared interests and common vision. I mean a community where  congregants are engaged around their talents and dreams, not tasks; where developing people takes precedence over providing programs for every need; where private struggles are voiced, and change is achieved.   Covenantal communities stand up for the collective good as well as our own synagogue’s interests. Shearith Israel’s history is full of this type of covenantal behavior.  

I will begin by posing some questions and then laying out a new opportunity to engage in covenantal community – both within your synagogue and with your Manhattan neighbors, with whom you share a common fate.  

Here are a few questions to consider: What is the current chapter of community engagement that you are writing as a congregation? What legacy, in the spirit of Emma Lazarus, a former congregant, will you leave to your grandchildren?  In addition to this aesthetic structure, and the vibrant tefilla, Torah study, and chesed work, for what courageous community involvement will Shearith Israel be known, in this time and place?  What does it mean to be a covenantal community in Manhattan, in 2008?

         Just as particular events and experiences shaped Shearith Israel’s journey and choices in community involvement, so too my journey as an organizer and as a Jew has been shaped by a series of experiences.  I grew up in a Catholic family in a racially-mixed, working class neighborhood in South Bend, Indiana. When I was 16, and I learned about the prophets, I thought they were talking to me and my family; I felt like WE were the widow and orphan that the prophets spoke of that the Almighty protected, when my father nearly lost his factory job -- the best of the three jobs he worked to put food on our table – because of the unbridled greed of the owner.  That was the beginning of my journey to becoming an organizer.  When I asked my religion teacher about Jews, he told me to go ask a Rabbi.  So I looked in the yellow pages and picked one out – Rabbi Chaim Kuperman, straight out of YU doing kiruv at a traditional synagogue.  I showed up at Sinai Synagogue in my school uniform – plaid skirt and navy jacket and bobbie socks - and he was kind enough to mentor me in my journey towards Judaism.  I have found in modern orthodoxy an authentic and holistic way of life, where every act has meaning and purpose, and every occasion has a bracha.  And I’m proud that our community has written the book on caring for our own.  And yet I struggle with how little impact we have had in the broader community.

         In today’s Parsha, Mishpatim, and later in Devarim, that in order to walk in the ways of Hashem (G-d), You shall love the stranger for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”  Some commentators  broaden the commandment to include not only converts, but also all strangers .   The Ramban contends that WE should learn from our Egyptian experience that the Almighty does not tolerate the mistreatment of strangers.  When I read this passage, I am reminded that we have not yet reached our potential for acting powerfully in the public square on the full range of our community’s interests or the collective good in our cities, including Manhattan.   What are we doing right here in NYC, in 2008 to harness our people power to hold our public officials accountable for their commitments to make our city safer and cleaner, to create more affordable housing and quality education, and affordable health care options for every New Yorker? 

           What do I mean by power?  Many of us believe that the access that our Rabbis and big donors have to decision-makers is power.  But I would call this influence. It’s easy to confuse the two. Power is what happens when we join together with our neighbors to voice our collective concerns to politicians and negotiate face-to-face and publicly, not just through back-room deal.  It is what we need to do if we want public policy to address the needs of our community and the broader society.

       Congregation Shearith Israel has a long and rich history of community involvement, of standing up for yourselves and for others.  It seems to have begun from the very founding of SI!  The pioneers who created this synagogue refused to be bystanders to their own struggle, and that of other Jews and non-Jews alike in their new country, America, particularly in this political powederkeg of an island, called Manhattan!  It all started with 23 Jewish pioneers from Dutch Brazil standing up to the dictatorial Governor of New York in 1654 – Peter Stuyvesant – who ran NY like his personal fiefdom, for the right to settle here.  

          The history includes initiating settlement houses for immigrants and Jewish poor; opening a homeless shelter and partnering with NY institutions to address homelessness; engaging armies of volunteers to mentor and guide troubled young people.   In Rabbi Marc Angel’s Remnant of Israel book he writes “Through one-to-one relationships, the ‘big sisters’ would help guide the ‘little sisters’ to lead constructive and fulfilling lives.”  These SI leaders knew how to build a covenantal community – one relationship at a time.  Shearith Israel’s history of being a “caring” community for its members, the Jewish community, and society at large, is an impressive one; this Congregation has a big heart.  There is also a rich history of engaging in interfaith efforts with Lutherans, Episcopaleans and Catholics starting in the late 1600s.

         I would propose to you, that in 2008, SI has the opportunity to EXPAND how it acts as a covenantal community by joining with other faith communities and communal organizations to create a truly “covenantal community” here in Manhattan.  There is a congregation-based community organization that operates as a covenantal community – Manhattan Together -- that negotiates collectively and directly with the city’s and state’s “powers that be” on the matters that affect many of our lives. They’re waiting for more synagogues who share this vision to join them. 

          There are nearly 100 synagogues nationally, who are employing this particular approach to creating covenantal community, within the context of multi-faith and multi-ethnic organizations, invented  by Saul Alinsky and the Industrial Areas Foundation in the 1940s.  The Jewish Funds for Justice has worked successfully over the last several years to connect synagogues to these organizations. 

          Let me describe one synagogue’s experience, that a fellow organizer, Meir Lakein, is working with in Boston, called Temple Emanuel.  They held 42 small group meetings where over 400 of its congregants met together in each other’s living rooms, to tell stories of their concerns, and hopes and dreams.   They didn’t kvetch, they didn’t argue ideology; they didn’t even discuss a “social justice” issue.  Instead they told stories about their experiences that helped their fellow congregants get a better sense of who they were, stories that surfaced some of their core interests and values.   What emerged were stories of struggle as congregants attempted to navigate the long-term care systems that made it hard to age with dignity, or to care for their aging parents.                                                                                   

     Then they held a synagogue-wide meeting of over 420 congregants at which they launched synagogue-wide chesed initiatives to not only expand chesed, but to make it the instinctive NORM of the community.  They launched an organizing drive to press local and state legislators, to commit new resources and support for the long-term care system that would make it easier for seniors to stay in their homes, if they so chose.  Shortly after, the synagogue joined a multi-ethnic, interfaith community organization, Greater Boston Interfaith Organization (GBIO), affiliated with the Industrial Areas Foundation (IAF)  with several synagogue members, so they could build covenantal community across faith and ethnic lines.

 Many of us would find it hard to believe that synagogues and Haitian 7^th Day Adventist churches would have anything in common.  But as members of GBIO, several synagogues discovered that they did.  Both communities needed to change nursing home care.  Leaders at Temple Israel needed better nursing care for their parents and grandparents who were living in unsanitary and inexcusable conditions in the homes. The Haitians who staffed the nursing homes were mistreated, overworked and underpaid. When they heard each others’ stories in small group meetings, these stories led to action. GBIO held a large community meeting and invited the Massachusetts Attorney General to ask him to issue an unprecedented advisory enforced stricter monitoring of both nursing home care, and that would improve conditions for workers.  The Attorney General came to the meeting prepared to decline this request.  But he was so moved by the immigrant stories he heard and was impressed by the united power he saw, that he changed his mind. He was reminded of his own mother’s story of exploitation and mistreatment as an Irish immigrant.  When he committed to issue the advisory, he was nearly drowned out by the cheering.   

          As synagogues, we cannot pretend that our own members are immune from skyrocketing health care and housing costs, from unemployment, from the cost of aging, and the challenge of supporting aging parents while underwriting our children’s escalating education costs.   Unless we’re willing to share our stories of struggle and hope with each other, and with other communities, I don’t believe we will achieve the fullest possible covenantal community in the broader society either.  If we park our own interests and stories at the door and hide our own struggles, we imply, that only people of other ethnicities and faiths struggle, and we’re there just to fix them, instead of partnering with them to create a joint future for all our children.  

My great-grandfather died when my grandmother was very young, leaving my great-grandmother penniless, and with five children to support.   But since she had no means of support, the local authorities threatened to tear her and her siblings away from their mother, and dump them in an orphanage. The young priest at their church stood up to the authorities, and provided my great-grandmother with odd jobs at the Church, rent, and groceries.   

While it saved my family, BY ITSELF, this approach of “meeting individual needs” of congregants, fell short.  My family’s shame about this experience kept them isolated from the rest of their congregation because no one ever spoke about “private” matters. Like many synagogues today, they attended each other’s weddings and funerals, but never spoke to each other of their struggles or dreams.  If this had been a covenantal community that encouraged my great-grandmother to share her story, she would have met others who had also suffered under the crushing weight of abusive power, and they could have joined together and fought for laws that protected families.  But my grandmother didn’t belong to a covenantal community.

         Achieving covenantal community requires taking big risks and trusting our fellow congregants and other community members from diverse backgrounds enough to share our stories. This kind of community calls us to be open to hearing their stories and being changed by them.  It requires the courage to recognize that a shared covenant that ties our destinies is not cemented only with words – it is signed with action.  In the covenant we made with the Holy One, our ancestors committed, “We will do and we will hear.”  Can we really expect any less of ourselves, today? 

Growing up in suburban New York City, I never heard the phrase “secular humanism,” or if I did, I did not find it meaningful enough to remember because I had no concept of religion as a life-encompassing endeavor against which to compare it. Certainly, life offered choices. I could choose to become a doctor or a lawyer, and I might even be so bold as to move to Africa to work for UNICEF, but the mentality of my secular Jewish upbringing would remain underneath any career or geographical choices. In the end, I would be “learning” the New York Times wherever I went. One of the hardest tasks in life is breaking out of one’s Weltanschauung. Few do it, and it is a bona fide miracle that people find their way to Torah observance, which can be a whopper of a life-change in our era.

 A quarter of a century ago when I became frum, the yeshivot for ba’alei teshuvah essentially were Hareidi, or they tried to appear so. My limited experience in the Torah world left me unable to categorize them as such just as my prior life as a secular Jewish middle-class American did not seem to me at age 18 a life choice but rather life itself. I lacked the words to encapsulate it and to contrast it from anything else.

Even though I did not become observant via a kiruv organization, but rather through thinking and reading, I made my way to yeshiva when enough of the people I encountered recommended it. I had expected yeshiva to be a place for further exploration of the religion and of my own thoughts and feelings about it, in part because it was advertised as such, but that’s not what it was at all. Rather, it was a kind of factory for producing Hareidi Jewish men.

I do not say that with outrage. Many of my old classmates function fairly well as Hareidi Jewish men, better than they were functioning as secular Jewish men. They took to yeshiva and found a productive place in life through the lifestyle it promoted. Most importantly, of course, they are Shomer Shabbat.

The problem was for the people who did not precisely fit the mold. If this matter of single-sizing is causing trouble in the schools for the frum-from-birth (FFB), the trouble is magnified for ba’alei teshuvah. Consider, for example, what happens to the academically inclined person who had spent his entire life immersed in secular studies. Whether this happens in public school, which serves largely as preparation for college, or college itself, or graduate school, or a PhD program, or Sunday afternoons with the New York Times, it comprises a life’s work for many people. Suddenly, one hears that it is all narishkite, emptiness, and lies. Try it on yourself; say “My life’s work was a waste of time.” That is a bitter pill to swallow, and it has nasty side effects.

This would not be such a problem if indeed it were all emptiness and lies. Emet serves as an excellent replacement for sheker. Normally, one is happy to unload rocks from his backpack. But what if they are not really rocks?

Consider my coming to Yiddishkite. As I said, I found my way on my own, not through a kiruv group. Ironically, I did it largely through “secular” studies. Despite the claim that the non-Torah observant thinkers and writers of the world are all heathens and enemies of God, there are in fact many who write about morality, monotheism, and spirituality. For example, it was none other than conservative political and social commentator William F. Buckley, whose writings taught me about the concepts of faith, self-restraint, and morality as pursuits to encompass every facet of life. He talked about eschatology, that is, the idea that life on a personal and global level takes place in stages with heaven and hell coming last. He introduced me to the catchphrase “Don’t immanentize the eschaton,” which is an exhortation against utopian secular philosophies such as communism that try to make heaven (the eschaton) on earth. The phrase stems from the writings of Eric Voegelin, a German-born political philosopher who taught at University of Notre Dame and University of Munich.[1]

I am not suggesting that either Buckley or Voeglin were b’nei Torah or that seminary students in Lakewood should read their writings. I am saying merely that the bifurcation of humanity into camps of pure truth or complete lies is not the complete truth. Wonderfully, I have learned after years in the frum world that many great figures from our history would concur with my statement. Take for example what Rabbeinu Bachya wrote in his introduction to Duties of the Heart:

I also quote the pious and wise men of other nations whose words have reached us—such as the words of the philosophers, the discipline of the ascetics, and their admirable codes of conduct—for it is my hope that my readers will incline their hearts to them and listen to their wisdom. Our Masters of blessed memory have already said [in this regard]: One verse says, “But you have acted in accordance with the laws of the nations around you” (Yechezkel 11:12), and another verse says, “Nor have you acted [in accordance with the laws of the nations around you]” (ibid. 5:7). What is the resolution [of the two verses]? You have not acted like the refined among them, but you have acted like the corrupt among them. (Sanhedrin 39b).[2]

Here we learn that not only did Rabbeinu Bachya study the works of gentile thinkers but he incorporated some of their ideas into his masterpiece. Let us remember where Duties of the Heart stands in the cannon of Jewish thought as the Rambam, the Vilna Gaon, and the Hatam Sofer, each one a seminal figure in the Hareidi world, studied and praised it.[3] The grandson of the Hatam Sofer said that “Almost all of his ethical teachings and practices were from the words of this holy book.”[4] In our times, the Steipler Gaon wrote, “Whoever has not seen the lights of the holy words of the Duties of the Heart will be missing very much, he will be wanting inside, in the purity of all that is holy.”[5]

So what do we do with secular studies, much of which obviously is not fit for Jewish eyes or human eyes for that matter? I do not have a simple answer. But I can tell you this, pressuring a person to surrender truths only because of their source or to force them into different terminology that does not feel as true can yield destructive results. As I said, it is a miracle that many people become frum.

The gaon Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky was sensitive to this idea. He advised kiruv professionals that their goal should be simply to help non-observant Jews to become observant, that is, to keep the mitzvoth. One should not try to impose personality change or to destroy the essence of what defines the person. One should not impose conformity.[6] In other words, do not fold, spindle, or mutilate, to borrow a phrase that used to be printed on machine-readable cards for computers. Rav Yaakov said that it is essential that a ba’al teshuvah feel normal in his Torah observance. He said that, for example, the typical ba’al teshuvah will not feel normal if he does not complete his college education so he should not be discouraged from doing so.[7]

For many ba’alei teshuvah, life in a contemporary Hareidi environment will not feel normal, particularly if one’s mentors are not striving to follow the advice of Rav Yaakov. I have been to more than one shiur where the speaker declared how all secular music was prohibited. Each time I thought to myself, “Bridge over Troubled Water” is osur? Seriously?” I combed through the lyrics, “When you’re weary, feeling small, when tears are in your eyes, I’ll dry them all.” What is the problem here? Is this a hok like shatnes? Am I never allowed again to hear this song that has comforted and inspired me throughout my life? In my view, most of the people who I observed entering and leaving the frum world left not because they could not handle mitzvoth observance but because they could not cope with the more extreme approaches to it. That is a tragedy. Hence, there was and is a great need for Modern Orthodox kiruv yeshivot where the answer to incorporating the good of the secular world is not met with a shochet’s knife, but rather, with discussion, with decisions, and with indecision.

Note that I use the term Modern Orthodox in the broad sense to mean not “Torah only” or not contemporary Hareidi. There are different shades of Modern Orthodox. For example, in my view, the litvaks of old Europe and even mid-twentieth-century America would not fit neatly into either camp. However, the Modern Orthodox world tends to allow more room for a person to match the complete litvish approach to Torah life which usually included the pursuit of parnassah at younger ages and often included secular studies and other matters that we associate today with the Modern Orthodox. As the Hareidi world narrows its scope, the Modern Orthodox world absorbs approaches to Torah life that are not characteristically modern.

I cannot speak for the contemporary kiruv world as I have long moved on to the daily focus of earning a living. But the English speaking kiruv world of decades ago I knew pretty well, particularly the yeshivot. There really was only one place for people who all ready had earned college degrees that I could describe as espousing “Modern” Orthodox sensibilities of any significance and the rabbi who I met after knocking on the door spent our interview testing me on the Gemara. What I did not know at the time, what he evidentially did not know either, is that I was seeking to learn more about Torah Im Derekh Erets and Torah u’Maddah. As the expression goes, you don’t know what you don’t know. I did not know these terms so I did not know to inquire about them. I only knew that the outlook I was trying to hoist upon myself was not working as promised.

You might be surprised if you came into my home today to see very little secular material lying around. One reason for this is my fear that young people in this era cannot manage both Torah and maddah successfully, particularly as the academic world and general society have drifted into some really bizarre and indecent territory. I cannot get my mind around what passes for culture and entertainment today. But also, I want to spare my family the painful choices and sacrifices that I had to endure. I often think that some ba’alei teshuvah would be wise to retain a small percentage of their old interests, as long as they are halakhically permissible. At some point, you have to make peace with your past. You can only discard so much. But as Rabbi Avigdor Miller used to say, you can like chocolate cake, but you don’t have to tell the whole world about it. Let the FFBs in my house have some peace; let them enjoy the simplicity that just was not their father’s lot in life.

            More than forty years ago, one of the stirring voices of Jewish conscience was Professor Abraham Joshua Heschel. Although remembered primarily for his calls to activism in the realms of social and racial justice, Heschel was first and foremost a teacher to rabbis and educators. His words were a charge to me, then a neophyte to the field of Jewish education. He said,

One of our errors has been the trivialization of education. The superficial kind of religious education acquired in childhood fades away when exposed to the challenge and splendor of other intellectual powers           in an age of scientific triumphs. What young people need is not religious tranquilizers, religion as diversion, religious entertainment, but spiritual audacity. ¹

            The proliferation of Day Schools and yeshivot can be seen as a response to this view of the needs of students and communities. When Jewish education began to be the subject of research studies in the post-World War II period, only 5 to 7 percent of the population of students in any form of Jewish school attended Day Schools or yeshivot. Haym Soloveitchik observes that sixty year ago, it was generally held that "Jewishness was something almost innate, and no school was needed to inculcate it." But, he continues,

            in contemporary society…Jewish identity is not inevitable. It is not a

            matter of course, but of choice: A concious preference of the enclave

            over the host society. For such a choice to be made, a sense of                                     particularity and belonging must be instilled by the intentional enterprise                           of instruction…identity maintenance and consciousness raising are                                   ideological exigencies, needs that can be met only by education.²

    Thus it is not surprising that today, by various estimates, some 30 percent of Jewish school-age children in the United States—205,000 young people—attend Day Schools or yeshivot. Eighty percent of these students are enrolled in Orthodox schools.³ Further analysis tells us that 47,416 students (23 percent) attend 165 institutions described as "Centrist" or "Modern Orthodox." ⁴ The territory has expanded.

   Despite qualitative and quantitative growth, the educational landscape is littered with doubt among educators, parents, and students. Yaakov Bieler states the challenge as follows:

Questions are increasingly raised about whether these educational institutions really provide a Modern Orthodox education and produce Modern Orthodox young people. To find the reasons for this malaise we must gauge the effectiveness of the Modern Orthodox Day Schools that go beyond such obvious facts as the manner in which the school day is organized, what extracurricular activities are available, and where the graduates continue their education.⁵

            Urgency notwithstanding, most of the meetings, discussions, plenaries, and public documents do not go deeply into the core issues of schooling. The most well-meaning of presentations by policymakers or researchers that do not bring education professionals into the dialogue may result in half-baked ideas, at best. It is, after all, these professionals who are the "first responders" to the students. It is they who articulate, develop, and implement with teachers the curricula, programs, and strategies that drive their schools. It is they who are uniquely poised to be the agents of change and the conservators of tradition in the lives of students and their families.

            And so we hold this conversation. Through this issue of Conversations and follow-up exchanges using the electronic media, we hope to engage educators and others interested in the role of schooling in Modern Orthodoxy in an open and clarifying presentation and discussion of ideas. There are many good things happening in our schools that are not shared with colleagues. There are difficult experiences that we all encounter and these, likewise, remain dark secrets. This is an opportunity to teach and learn from our colleagues.

            We have selected four questions in areas that are commonplace for our schools:

1. How should a school leader express his or her vision of Jewish education? Can there be a clear line from the school’s mission to what happens in the classrooms? Is there a substantive difference between schools that are “mission-driven” and those that are not?
2. How does an educator experience the personnel shortage in our schools? Does this find expression in General and Judaic Studies? What impact, if any, does this shortage have on a school’s ability to meet its mission and goals?
3. How should Modern Orthodox schools address women’s education and gender equality in terms of content, mastery, and Jewish practice? To what extent is this a divisive issue in the community, and how can a school deal with this?
4. How should Modern Orthodox schools address issues in contemporary culture that conflict with traditional norms? What is the impact on a school’s reach for integration of Judaic and General Studies?

We arranged the conversation as follows:

• An essay by Dr. Moshe Sokolow, which frames the issues
• An article by Rabbi Mark Gottlieb, which addresses hashkafa in our schools
• The four questions above and responses by a panel of education professionals

Since it is neither responsible nor useful to ignore the present fiscal realities, we have included a proposal by Mrs. Zippora Schorr and Rabbi Aaron Frank, which may be instructive for other schools and communities.

            We hope that these essays, questions, and replies will initiate further conversation in the Member’s Forum at www.jewishideas.org.

________________

¹Abraham Joshua Heschel, "The Values of Jewish Education,” in Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly (New York, 1962): 83.

²Haym Soloveitchik, "Rupture and Reconstruction: The Transformation of Contemporary Orthodoxy," in Tradition (Summer, 1994): 90, 93.

³ Jack Wertheimer, “The Current Moment in Jewish Education: An Historian’s View,” in R. L. Goodman, et al., What We Now Know About Jewish Education (Los Angeles: Torah Aura, 2009): 15.

⁴ Marvin Schick, "A Census of Jewish Day Schools in the United States, 2003–2004" (New York: Avi Chai Foundation, 2005).

⁵ Jack Bieler, "Preserving Modern Orthodoxy in Our Day Schools,” Edah Monograph Series 2: 1.

“Wisdom has built her house on seven hewn pillars.” (Mishlei 9:1)

My first inclination was to decline to respond to this symposium on the grounds that I am not a school leader—or even a practitioner for that matter—and therefore unable to answer such situational questions as you have posed. My next inclination was to formulate alternative, theoretical, questions that are better suited for a broad-based conversation. In the end, I followed neither inclination; my remarks hover intentionally in the ether that separates theory from practice—but, on the other hand, also connects them to one another.

         *         *         *

Is there a coherent and cohesive philosophical preference or prejudice that ought to animate Modern Orthodox Jewish education? Some of our educational policies (notably, those that pertain to limmudei kodesh) resemble the “perennialist” approach associated with traditional education, while others (notably, those of General Studies) tend to look more like the “pragmatic” approach identified with progressive education. Are we philosophically hermaphroditic (possessing the distinctive characteristics of both philosophies), androgynous (having neither philosophy’s idiosyncratic characteristics), or, perhaps, are we agnostics, content to conduct educational business as usual without admitting to any particular philosophy? In an unintended parody of Descartes, do we appear to proclaim: “I think not, therefore I can do whatever I please!”?

         *         *         *

The absence of a clearly articulated educational philosophy does not serve us well. The road of curriculum design, development, and implementation is notable for its many obstacles (insufficient time, inadequate resources, and so forth) that frequently compel detours from the derekh haMelekh of nineteenth-century Eastern Europe, twelfth-century Muslim Spain, fifth-century Sura and Pumbedita, first-century Alexandria, or whatever historical precedent we cite in affirmation of our received educational practice. At these critical junctures, a philosophy is a lodestar whose sighting keeps us securely on our chosen path and acts as surety for our eventual arrival at our proposed destination. Without a clear philosophy, we are only star-gazing—and as inspirational as that may occasionally be, it only thwarts our purpose and obscures our objective.

Schools—not their current (and, regrettably, all too transitory) leaders—should have educational visions that “drive” their missions. A school that is “mission-driven” without the mission itself being motivated by a coherent philosophy is a will-o’-the-wisp. It gives the external appearance of direction and purpose while actually lacking both. A school’s approach to “gender equality,” like its views on “integration,” should similarly be determined by its philosophical predisposition.

How do schools acquire philosophies? Unless a school community is blessed with an informed philosopher, the best way I know is via committee. The “dromedary principle” admonishes us that in its desire to fashion a horse, the committee may produce a camel; still, a camel is superior to no transportation at all. We are not looking for philosophical purity but for contemplative introspection, and a synthetic philosophy is patently acceptable.

         *         *         *

In this light, I should like to offer for your consideration a platform comprising seven philosophical-ideological positions that I would advocate for a school that wishes to be recognized as Modern Orthodox. (These principles are the products of a consultation undertaken several years ago. I am grateful to Dr. Joel Wolowelsky of the Yeshiva of Flatbush for his input, the responsibility for their formulation rests entirely with me.)

Modern Orthodox Day Schools and yeshiva high schools should recognize:

  The preeminence of Torah and the fulfillment of mitzvoth according to halakha

A Modern Orthodox school will give priority in funding, staffing, and scheduling to those classes and activities that promote the study of Torah and the fulfillment of mitzvoth. It will concern itself with students' religious behavior and attitudes both in school and outside. It will, if necessary, engage in parent education (in conjunction with synagogues, if possible) to ensure proper modeling of religious behavior.

  The need for excellence in both General and Jewish Studies

Modern Orthodoxy sees the accomplishments of modern science and culture as expressions of the biblical imperatives to conquer the earth and preserve it. A Modern Orthodox school will provide all its students with an acquaintance with the basic principles of science, disciplines in the behavioral and social sciences, and in the humanities. It will likewise ensure that the pursuit of these disciplines does not become a goal unto itself, divorced from their Jewish identities and responsibilities.

 The primacy of moral virtue and ethical integrity in personal, business, and professional life

A Modern Orthodox school will implement curricula that provide instruction in both mitzvot bein adam laMakom (laws that govern our relationship to God) and mitzvot bein adam leHaveiro (laws that govern interpersonal relationships) and nurture a school culture that values and promotes the ideal of hessed (such as community service or social action). It will not condone unethical behavior on the part of its staff and students and will condemn such behavior on the part of any member of the Jewish community.

 The need to set common educational goals for boys and girls, young men and young women

In a Modern Orthodox school, boys and girls will be given equal opportunities to study Torah and halakha. The equality of opportunity does not necessarily mean identical curricula, but no subject in Jewish studies should be officially declared "off limits" to any student. Modern Orthodoxy neither promotes nor prohibits coeducation; it supports individual schools in the educational decisions that are best for them.

 The centrality of the State of Israel to the religious and national existence of the Jewish people

A Modern Orthodox school will advise all its students to personally experience life in Israel, to be cognizant of its needs and goals, and to have a working knowledge of Modern Hebrew. It may also call upon them to plan for aliyah to Israel, and to become actively involved in promoting Religious Zionist values in both Israel and the Diaspora. A Modern Orthodox school will say Hallel on Yom Ha'Atzma'ut and Yom Yerushalayim.

 The value of all segments of the Jewish community

A Modern Orthodox school will emphasize to its students that the major events of Jewish history, which have shaped our national identity, have involved and affected all Jews. It will admonish its graduates to love all Jews, maintain contact with them, and work with them on communal issues without regard to their denominational affiliation. It will not decline to participate in Jewish communal events due to the participation of non-Orthodox Jews.

  The Torah as the possession of all Jews

A Modern Orthodox Day School will enroll children of non-Orthodox, non-observant homes as students in the belief that the opportunity to study Torah should not be denied to anyone of the Jewish faith.

Over the last two decades much ink that has been spilled regarding the halachic analysis of whether or not brain-stem death is equivalent to halachic death. So much has been written, in fact, that from a substantive point of view, little, if anything, new can be said.

The debate, far from being theoretical, has far reaching implications. When the brain-stem dies, if the patient had previously been connected to a ventilator, the heart may continue beating for a few more days before it too dies. Since organs – for the purposes of life saving transplantation - typically need to be recovered before the heart stops beating, we need to know if halacha views a beating heart as a sign of life. If so, organ transplantation would be forbidden since removing the organs would be akin to killing the donor.

Halachic Analysis

Many, if not all, of the halachic articles written in English and Hebrew over the past 25 years, both accepting and rejecting brain-stem death as halachic death, may be found at the website of the Halachic Organ Donor Society (www.hods.org).  The primary halachic sources are Talmud Yoma page 85a and Mishna Ohalot 1:6.

Institutional Positions

Among the orthodox rabbinic institutions that take a position on this issue are the Chief Rabbinate of Israel and the Rabbinical Council of America who both accept brain death as halachic death and support organ donation. The Halachic committee of the Chief Rabbinate issued its ruling with unanimous consent in 1986. In 1991 the Rabbinical Council of America held a three day convention at Spring Glen, N.Y. where halachic presentations were heard both for and against brain-stem death.

The RCA membership then voted to adopt a resolution accepting brain-stem death as halachic death and supporting organ donation. [Even though no new medical information has surfaced that was not considered in their deliberations before the vote in 1991, the RCA is currently reviewing its position on this issue.]

This RCA resolution, the article in the NY Times announcing the RCA’s newly adopted position, and the RCA’s Living Will which explicitly promotes heart transplants from people who have died brain-stem death are available at www.hods.org.

Rabbinic Positions

While the rabbis who reject brain-stem death succeed in making their voices heard, less well known are the prominent rabbinic figures that accept brain-stem death and support organ donation. They are former Chief Rabbis Avraham Shapiro z”l, Rabbi Mordechai Eliyahu and Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef, current Sephardic Chief Rabbi Shlomo Amar, Rabbi Shaul Yisraeli z”l, Rabbi Zalman Nechemia Goldberg, Rabbi Avraham Shlush, Rabbi Nachum Rabinovitch, and Rabbi Dr. Avraham Steinberg.

While Rabbi Moshe Feinstein, Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach and Rabbi Yosef Dov Solevitchik accepted brain-stem death as halachic death their positions are often challenged as being mischaracterized. Instead of revisiting their writings, as has been done ad nauseum, I think it important to note the oral testimonies given by people who spoke with them about this issue.  (All of the following oral testimonies are available to be seen on video at www.hods.org)

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein

Rabbi Moshe Tendler, Rabbi Mordechai Tendler, Rabbi Shabtai Rappaport, and Dr. Ira Greifer testified that they heard many times Rabbi Moshe Feinstein state that he was of the opinion, and rule in actual cases, that a person in a state of unconsciousness and irreversible cessation of respiration, as confirmed by brain-stem death, is halachicly dead – even though the heart continues to beat – and should be an organ donor.
 

The following is a partial transcript of Rav Dovid Feinstein’s emphatic and unambiguous testimony:

“My father’s position was very simply that the stopping of breathing is death. It doesn’t matter if the heart is functioning or not functioning… that is the way he explained the gmorah in Yoma… I don’t think anyone ever argued that point [when he was alive]. It is very simple - cessation of breathing. I don’t think anyone ever said any differently… it doesn’t matter if his heart is working or is not working. If a patient is available for a heart transplant… he would definitely encourage it.”

Rabbi Shlomo Zalman Auerbach

Rabbi Auerbach, after initially rejecting brain-stem death, ultimately accepted it as halachic death after the famous sheep experiment showed that a decapitated (thus ‘brain-stem dead’) pregnant sheep attached to a ventilator could have its blood pressure and heart beat maintained and fetus kept alive. He did, however, require proof that every cell in the brain was dead. He dictated his position to Rabbi Dr. Avraham Steinberg and had the ruling published in ASSIA magazine (no 53-54, 1994). Rav Steinberg states:

“Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach told me, specifically… I have written his words and he checked it and agreed for it to be published, and his position clearly was that the heart, per se, is not necessarily a sign of life and death. In other words, a person can be defined as dead even though his heart is still functioning. What is important to Rav Auerbach was brain function.”

Rabbi Yosef Dov Soloveitchik

There are students and family members of Rabbi Soloveitchik who claim they never heard the Rav accept brain –stem death as halachic death. This is not tantamount to asserting that they heard the Rav reject the idea. It is possible that those people simply never heard him state his position on the issue.

Since the RCA had a policy of accepting Rav Soloveitchik’s position on all halachic matters, Rabbi Benjamin Walfish, former Executive Director of the RCA, turned to Rav Soloveitchik when he was asked about brain-stem death by RCA member Rabbi David Silver z”l : Rabbi Walfish states:

“I met with Rav Soloveitchik in 1983…84 to discuss this concept of brain-stem death and Rabbi Soloveitchik told me personally that he accepted it… I’ll testify to that. As far as the gmorah’s definition of death, the Rav felt that it was the stopping of breathing that was the definition of death according to the gmorah [Talmud Yoma 85a].
…Rabbi Tendler told me about the Harvard criteria and brain-stem death and so on and I went to see the Rav on the subject…He asked me whether Rabbi [Moshe] Tendler is certain that this test [Apnea test]is conclusive without any doubt and that it has been tested and it’s accepted as conclusive proof that the brain-stem is dead.  I said yes. I offered to have Rabbi Tendler call the Rav and the Rav said ‘no it’s not necessary. If Rabbi Tendler says this is so he knows what he is talking about in these matters and we can accept it.’ And that is when I wrote the letter to Rabbi [David] Silver explaining to him the procedure and telling him the exact language that should be written into the Pennsylvania law as the definition of death.”

Done with Brain Death

After all is said and done, there remains a legitimate halachic debate as to whether or not brain-stem death is halachic death. There are enough living halachic authorities on both sides of the divide that one is forced to recognize a plurality of halachic positions on this issue as there are with many halachic issues. The Halachic Organ Donor Society offers a unique organ donor card for the Jewish community that allows people to define death either at brain-stem death or at cessation of heartbeat.  At either point, one may become an organ donor and help save lives. No matter what your definition of death is, everyone is warmly invited to register for an organ donor card on-line at www.hods.org to fulfill the mitzvah of pickuah nefesh.  “Lo ta’amod al dam re’echa – Don’t stand idly by the blood of your brother.” Leviticus 19:16.

Building an Environmentally Sensitive Religious Community

Inspiring a culture change in the Jewish community or even in a single synagogue is never an easy task.  In order for the Orthodox community to assimilate the values of the environmental movement, there will need to be a paradigm shift in the way that people think.  That change in attitude will likely take a generation.

Allow me to first outline three macro challenges that we face in broader Orthodox community.  After that I will talk about the challenges from the perspective of a single Orthodox shul – Kehilat Kesher: The Community Synagogue of Tenafly and Englewood.  Once we have an idea of what we are trying to overcome, I will share a few strategies that can work in a congregational setting.  I will conclude with a vision for a “green” future that must be embraced by every faith community if we want to change the world in which we live.

1. Challenges that the “green” movements faces in the broader Orthodox community:

The first hurdle that we have to overcome is making this an Orthodox issue.  The reality is that the liberal Jewish community started the ball rolling and we are following them.  For the Orthodox community, that is always a scary reality.  We have to be able to get over our fears that bringing in great ideas from other denominations, or faiths, is dangerous.  The Coalition on the Environment and Jewish Life (www.COEJL.org), a pioneer in this field, has been articulating a vision of environmental stewardship in the language of the liberal Jewish Community.  Canfei Nesharim (www.CanfeiNesharim.org) has been translating this into traditional language and has shown tremendous leadership within the Orthodox community.  Their website is filled with helpful source material, essays and shiurim.

A second challenge, no doubt related to the first, is that there are no lines in the Shulchan Aruch or teshuvot that we can point to and say, “See, you must do this because of that!”  The Jewish conceptual basis grows from aggadic texts, values and broad concepts.  Many people are working on this and trying to produce a literature grounded in Halakha that can be the basis for future action.  Some of the most obvious halakhik concepts that can be mined are: ba’al tashchit (wanton destruction – see Rambam, Laws of King and War 6:8,10, Sefer Hachinuch #529 and Seforno on Deuteronomy 20:19), tza’ar ba’alei chayyim (causing animals needles pain – see: Exodus 23:5, Shabbat 128b, Bava Metzia 32b, Rambam, Hilkhot Rotzeach 13:1, Shulkhan Arukh, Choshen Mishpat 272:9 and the limitation of Rema Even ha-Ezer 5:14)) and harchakat nezikin (moving certain damaging industries out of the city center – see Bava Batra 22b, Rambam, Hilkhot Shechanim 11:5, Shulkhan Arukh, Chosen Mishpat 155:41).   

Finally, many of the issues that we are dealing with are still emerging from the world of research.  While there are studies that show, for example, that household cleaning products contribute to cancer growth, there are also studies that contradict these findings.  The Orthodox rabbinic community has to cultivate relationships with experts in the field of environmental science so that we can have a more complete picture of the issues at hand.  Just as we seek the counsel of doctors in issues of medical ethics we must find people who are leaders in their field and ‘make for ourselves a teacher.’ 

2. Challenges within the congregational setting

When addressing these issues on the synagogue level there are a few additional hurdles.  First, the question of economics.  The reality of congregational life is that every dollar spent has to be justified.  When spending communal money nothing less should be accepted.  People have to imbibe the notion that spending money, time and volunteers on projects like recycling makes a difference.  Even when it might be the law on the city, people have to be inspired to take the extra step and separate all the different materials.

Second, shuls need strong leadership in this arena.  Since there are very few working models of what a ‘green’ shul should look like, this requires creative people who have an understanding of what is possible within the confines of daily shul life. 

Most shuls operate on a status quo model.  Much of what we do has been and has worked well for several generations.  Therefore, anytime a shul is asked to do something different, justification is necessary.  In order to affect a paradigm shift in the operations of the shul the rabbis and lay leadership must be educated and inspired themselves so they can educate and inspire the broader community.

3. Affecting a culture change - one shul at a time

Allow me to attempt to lay out a systematic approach as to how one can go about greening a shul.

Step 1: Cleaning Materials.  This is an area in which there can be a serious change made and for very little money or effort.  Though above I mentioned that there are conflicting studies on the impact of house hold cleaners, I tend to be strict on matters of potential life and death (pikuach nefesh).  At this point, green cleaning supplies, when bought whole sale are not more expensive than the standard toxic cleaner on the market.  What could be more important than displaying sensitivity to those people who clean the shul?  In addition, the youngest members of the synagogue, who crawl on the floor and breathe in these toxins, are certainly a high priority for most synagogues.

Step 2: Lights.  Changing to high efficiency lighting and CFL bulbs is typically something simple to sell.  Though there are associated up front costs, the payback over the life of the bulb is visible on the energy bill.  This is something that can be done in a very public way, perhaps even associated with Hannukah.

Step 3: Recycling. The reality of most Orthodox shuls is that we just don’t take this seriously, even when it is the law.  The only way for this to work is to make sure that there are recycling bins for paper, metal and glass in as many places as possible.  They have to be prominently displayed with creative signs as well as reminders through out the building.  If there is janitorial staff they must be trained.

This is the first area in which there are potential conflicts with halacha.  If we are going to take recycling seriously, we have to look carefully at what we choose to bury as shemos and what we recycle.  Also, when we make copies or sheets to hand out, there is no reason to print God’s name so that all paper being produced by the shul should be able to be recycled.

Step 4: Energy Conservation.  There are three areas where this can be most effective: water, power usage and power sources.  Water can be managed with low flow faucets and toilets as well as lowering the temperature on the hot water heater to 110.  Grey water can be re-used from within the building for irrigation and toilet flushing. 

In order to maximize power usage a power audit is necessary.  Most audits will save money for the institution very quickly.  Placing thermostats on seven day timers and using timers for lights is good both for Shabbat as well as the environment.  Many power companies will now allow you to purchase power from renewable sources like windmills.  It is generally more cost effective to purchase this power from someone who is producing it on a larger scale than to generate power with on sight generators like solar panels.

Step 5: Construction.  This is the area that can be the most impactful.  The key to constructing an energy efficient building is hiring the right architect and contractors.  Most major architectural firms have the infrastructure to provide LEED (The Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design green building rating system was established by the U.S. Green Building Council in 1998) certification at only a minimal cost to the client.  For a synagogue to accomplish this there must be a strong desire on the part of the community, as there are associated costs.  However, the statement that it makes to the wider community is extremely important.  When places of worship of any kind display the courage of their conviction it send a message to members of the wider community of what can be done.

These fives steps – cleaning material, lighting, recycling, energy conservation and construction – are meant to be a model of how to move a community along the path of lowering their environmental footprint.  There may be additional steps to add along the way, but if you are walking this path, then you are moving in the right direction.

4. Looking forward to a “greener” future

We are living in a society that is changing at an alarming rate.  Moore’s law tells us that the processing speed of the computer doubles every eighteen months to two years.  Population growth has been exponential.  The industrial revolution and the age of technology has elevated mankind in some parts of the world to unprecedented heights.  Global climate change is a reality that we are, for the first time in human history, able to impact.  And so we, the religious community, must ask ourselves what that impact should be?

We could choose the path of least resistance and continue the process of displaying our dominion over the earth (Genesis 1:26).  Alternatively, we could seek to embrace the command to work and guard her (Genesis 2:15).  It is my sincere hope and prayer that the Orthodox Jewish Community is able to show leadership in reclaiming the mandate of chapter two of Genesis.  Through our actions we can teach the world what it means to live the ethics of the garden of Eden. 

I always took pride in the pervasiveness of the term “Tikkun Olam.” Of course, having been raised Orthodox, I was taught to resent the primacy other circles in Judaism granted social justice oriented mitsvot. I was told that this amounted to the implicit neglect of other more “real” Divine charges. This Orthodox critique of other denominations, while perhaps compelling, was not strong enough to undue the powerful messages I learned in Tanakh class. It was evident to me, as made clear by the prophets, that social justice was certainly a top Torah priority, no matter the modern socio-religious implications. With this understanding, I was drawn to carry the social justice banner with religious fervor and, not surprisingly, a smattering of self-righteousness as well. And, while we may have disagreed about the ideal balancing act between social justice oriented commandments and other mitsvot, it became clear that social justice was, in many respects, to most Orthodox Jews, a “pareve” cause. While other day-to-day mitsvot do in fact demand the usual attention, who can oppose efforts to feed the hungry and strides at upholding human dignity?

            With this understanding I began to explore the burgeoning world of social justice opportunities – fair trade, Free Tibet, mosquito nets in sub-Saharan Africa, domestic violence, the plight of the Palestinian people, immigration, to name a few. Soon, matters became murkier and questions about the complexities of social justice and Judaism abounded. When my friends and I worked to reinvigorate the Social Justice Society at Yeshiva University, late nights were spent debating the hierarchies of our efforts – Jews before non-Jews, Israel before other countries, New York before the rest of the world? Agunot or Darfur, the terror stricken youth of Sderot or the child soldiers of Uganda, microloans in Calcutta or Manhattan’s homeless? The realization that we could not just open up the Shulhan Arukh and find an answer was even more frustrating. Although Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ writings were great inspiration, we began to feel as if we were treading through unchartered waters. It became clear to us that these and other questions would never be fully resolved. Perhaps instead of bemoaning the fact that there was no clear-cut assur or muttar verdict, we ought to revel in the privilege to grapple with these issues hands-on. Eventually, these halakhic ambiguities empowered us to become the true masters of our deliberations; enabling us to own our decisions in a very real way.

            The dearth of halakhic discourse on these matters of social justice gave us a lot of flexibility. It meant that there was significant openness in terms of the causes that we selected address. Moreover, it hindered outside criticism and dissension; if there were no straightforward instructions, we were free to explore as we pleased; nearly any position or cause was legitimate from a Torah perspective.

It soon became apparent, however, that there were other concerns beyond the purely halakhic that might hamper the Orthodox receptiveness of our social justice efforts. No one will accuse the Orthodox community of being anxious to learn about unpleasant truths. One case in point, which continues to raise eyebrows no matter how delicately the matter is broached, is the troubling state of the commercial sex industry in Israel.

Sex slavery, a global phenomenon, is categorized by the UN Palermo Protocol as a form of human trafficking. Trafficked persons are recruited by force or coercion and exploited in various ways. One form of exploitation is through sex and prostitution, which has come to be termed “sex slavery.” The state of sex slavery in Israel is especially troubling; Israel’s inaction in combating this injustice continues to compel the US State Department to give Israel poor marks in its annual Trafficking in Persons Report (TIP), which measures every country’s anti-trafficking efforts. The TIP Report maintains that Israel is not in full compliance with international anti-trafficking standards and urges Israel to become more diligent in these efforts.

            Due to the very clandestine nature of sex trafficking, the precise number of sex slaves in Israel is unknown. However, some estimates by the Israeli government maintain that there are 3,000 sex slaves in Israel, while NGOs approximate that 3,000 new sex slaves are illegally trafficked into Israel each year alone. Machon Toda’a Awareness Center reports that most of these sex slaves come from the former Soviet Union. In their countries of origin they are recruited by traffickers promising them that low-paying jobs in the food, modeling and massage industries await them in Israel. These women are then trafficked into Israel through a variety of ways. Sometimes they are smuggled across the Israeli-Egyptian border, though due to increased security, this method has become less popular. Recently, traffickers have succeeded in smuggling women into Israel through seaports and even through Ben Gurion International Airport by using the stolen identities of Jewish women in the former Soviet Union.

According to the Task-Force on Human Trafficking, once in Israel, these exploited women are sold in auctions to pimps and brothel owners at a value between $5,000 and $10,000. At this point they serve as prostitutes, often paid little or nothing, are deprived of their rights, underfed, compelled to work 6-7 days a week, receiving between 15 and 20 clients each day, with whom they are forced to have unprotected sex.  Many of these women end up locked into discrete apartments and brothels, left with little outside contact and often find themselves with no way out. In fact, there are approximately one million visits per month to prostitutes in Israel, to both sex slaves and non-sex slaves. For a population of not even seven million, this number is staggering.

The facts speak for themselves; the state of sex slavery in Israel is appalling. NGOs bemoan what they call the Israeli government’s inaction and apathy in combating this pugnacious industry. Nevertheless, few, particularly Orthodox Jews, are willing to confront this reality. This hesitancy is often due to a confluence of concerns, specifically the issue’s inescapably unsavory nature. Beyond this, however, the conventional approach is to shy away from criticism of the State of Israel, especially if coming from a Diaspora Jew. Further, some claim, why focus specifically on Israel, when in fact sex slavery is an international injustice? Having taken on this issue, my colleagues in the YU Social Justice Society and I are intimately familiar with these concerns. And yet, it seems that precisely for these reasons – that it is distasteful and especially insidious in Israel – sex slavery ought to be a top priority of the Orthodox community.

Sex slaves are forced into having unwanted sex. They are essentially the victims of rape. Rape is undeniably a uniquely horrific phenomenon, the veracity of which is emphasized by the Torah. The Torah is arguably progressive in its redress to the incidence of rape; calling for the rapist to marry the victim. While perhaps traumatic for her, this in a sense protects the victim, insuring that her basic necessities will be met. On a more conceptual level, the Tanakh appears to go out of its way to record incidences of rape. Three rapes in particular, that of Dinah by the hands of Shekhem, the Concubine at Gibeah and Amnon’s rape of Tamar, are recorded in detail. Given that the Tanakh is selective with its words, the attention it accords rape is very suggestive. Perhaps because of rape’s insalubrious nature, the Torah accords it particular attention, urging us to overcome our own discomfort. This is, in a sense, a wake-up call to address rape; to confront sex slavery head-on.

While the Tanakh’s unprecedented regard for rape speaks volumes, the details of these episodes are even more powerful and instructive. In the narrative of Dinah’s rape, the action or inaction of the characters is particularly poignant. Dinah is completely passive, she has no voice. She is the victim of Shekhem who “took her and raped her” (Gen. 34: 2). Jacob too is entirely passive, he learns of the rape, yet does not react. Instead, due to his inaction, Simeon and Levi take action by cunningly massacring the city’s men. Their response is a violent, calculated, emotional one.

In the story of Dinah’s rape the complexities of responding to sexual coercion emerge. Jacob does nothing, “he kept silent” (Gen. 34: 5), whereas Simeon and Levi take matters into their own hands, and are later chastised by Jacob for doing so. And yet, their motivations are recorded, suggesting that they were not misplaced, for, as they declare, “should our sister be treated as a harlot?” (Gen. 34: 31).

The episode of the Concubine at Gibeah begins with the book’s recurring phrase “in those days when there was no king in Israel” (Jud. 19: 1). This prelude sets the stage for what will transpire, suggesting that not only did these occurrences happen because there was no king, but that because of this leadership vacuum, their was no legal recourse for the victims. Instead, the victim, or her memory, must be defended by personal initiative.

In this narrative, the Concubine, like Dinah, has no voice. Rather, the Lodger, in an act eerily similar to Lot in Sodom, gives over his own daughter and his guest’s Concubine to the mob instead of ceding the Concubine’s master, the Levite. The Concubine is then raped by the mob and consequently dies on the doorstep the following morning. Her master, in response to the rape, cuts her body up into twelve separate pieces, sending a piece to each tribe. “Everyone who saw it cried out ‘Never has such a thing happened … Put your mind to this; take counsel and decide.’” (Jud. 19:30). The Levite, like Simeon and Levi, responds to the rape emotionally, violently, which eventually leads to the extermination of the tribe of Benjamin.

The rape of Tamar is more layered than those of Dinah and the Concubine. Amnon’s actions are clearly premeditated and the rape itself is incestuous. Further, unlike Dinah and the Concubine, Tamar has a voice and cleverly, albeit unsuccessfully, tries to dissuade Amnon from raping her. In the aftermath of the rape, David, like Jacob remains silent. Absalom, Tamar’s brother, follows in the footsteps Simeon and Levi, responding violently, a response that leads to more bloodshed and the eventual undoing of David’s throne.

What emerges from these three rape narratives is the thorniness of responding to the crime of rape. It seems that none of these responses are ideal – neither the silence of Jacob and David nor the violence of Simeon and Levi, the Levite and Absalom. And yet, as a community, in responding to the tragedy of sex slavery, we remain silent, passive and inactive. Perhaps its time for us to internalize the Tanakh’s message and actively confront this vile reality.

People often ask me why I’ve chosen to devote time, through my work with the Task-Force on Human Trafficking, to combating sex slavery particularly in Israel. They also wonder about the denigration of Israel implicit in my efforts. These questions frequently transport me to the many hours we’ve passed in the Social Justice Society deliberating about the prioritization and hierarchies of our advocacy. Though we may never arrive at a conclusion, our unique connection and responsibility towards Israel is evident, especially in matters of sexual coercion. The Torah itself identifies the distinctive link between the heinousness of prostitution and Israel’s sanctity. “Do not degrade your daughter and make her a harlot, lest the land fall into harlotry and the land be filled with depravity” (Lev. 20:29). While sex slavery is indeed a global problem, as Jews, we have a distinctively religious, moral responsibility to combat this evil especially in the Holy Land. And, while these efforts may suggest a somewhat unfavorable view of the State of Israel, is it better to stand idly by in silence?

I still believe that the Orthodox community does value Tikkun Olam. However, as I’ve discovered through my anti-sex slavery advocacy, and efforts in the Social Justice Society, there is often a discord between our theoretical regard for these issues and our ability to effectively translate these beliefs into action. The challenge is to help ourselves hear the cry of the prophets to “speak truth to one another, render true and perfect justice in your gates” (Zech. 8:16), with the comparable immediacy we approach the bugs in our broccoli. In so doing we ought to facilitate conversations that may not be palatable to the typical Orthodox ear, to embrace even the unsavory, to be critical of ourselves and our homeland. Let it not be said that we have made a harlot of our values.

In the past generation, Orthodox Jewry in Israel has increasingly become more extreme and has isolated itself from mainstream Israeli society. There is a continued distance and alienation of the Orthodox population from the non-Orthodox community, and a seeming lack of interest in integrating halakha and Torah with the concerns and circumstances of modern life. A similar tendency can be seen in the American Modern Orthodox community, having shifted in the past years toward the right (both religiously and politically). This phenomenon is known as “the Hareidization of Orthodox Jewry.”

This article introduces an Israeli organization that strives to promote an alternative route for Israeli Orthodoxy, mainly by returning to the core values of Torah im derekh erets, a religious worldview promulgated by the great nineteenth-century rabbi, Samson Raphael Hirsch.

Ne'emanei Torah vaAvodah (NTA)

Ne'emanei Torah vaAvodah (NTA) is a religious Zionist non-political organization founded in 1978 as a reaction to the hareidization of Orthodox Jewry. It is highly committed to strengthening and restoring the foundations of religious Zionism. NTA promotes tolerance, equality, and social justice as key values within the religious community. We believe these values to be the ones that positively influence and define the unique Jewish and democratic character of Israeli society. The members of NTA, men and women, young and old, rabbis and academics, have come together to volunteer their time and energy in actualizing the potential of religious Zionism in Israel. NTA is committed to halakha and strives for an open, contemplative, and self-critical religious culture engaged in evolving halakhic discourse that is willing to address the challenges of our time.

 In order to achieve these goals, the organization focuses on education and advocacy for modification and improvement of the religious public services offered in Israel, as well as high-quality publications, and public relations to bring our ideas into the forefront of the social-religious discourse. A few of NTA main activities will be described here.

The De'ot Journal

In the religious world, many social and educational issues are considered taboo and are therefore never discussed seriously. Religious discussions are often restricted to the holiness of the land and ritualistic stringency, whereas the values of human rights, human dignity, and democracy are pushed into a forgotten corner. We strongly believe the discourse must not exclude any of those issues, and we promote a pluralistic discussion within Orthodox society.

NTA publishes a journal, De'ot. Our main goal is to advance an open and courageous discussion within the Orthodox community of contemporary challenges, on the basis of a commitment to halakha combined with sensitivity to social issues. The journal offers a unique platform for presenting different approaches that deal with issues, difficulties, and problems that are largely ignored within the religious community. The writers of the De'ot journal are affiliated with a broad spectrum of the Orthodox community.

De'ot was the first journal to discuss publicly a variety of sensitive and complex topics in Orthodox society. Among those issues are: the participation of women in prayer and in the public reading of the Torah; homosexuality in the religious community; domestic violence in religious society; halakhic rulings regarding the Internet and their implications; premarital sex, and so forth. In addition, the journal also includes essays on a wide range of topics concerning the shaping of a Jewish-Israeli identity, in which alternative ways of thinking are formulated. In fact, De'ot is unique in being the only Orthodox journal in Israel that permits the publication of viewpoints that dissent from “conventional” opinions in the Orthodox community.

Et liDrosh ("A Time to Interpret")

Another publication that is meant to broaden the cultural and religious discourse is a Shabbath-Portion leaflet by the name of Et liDrosh, whose purpose is to provide a platform for a wide range of opinions, and in this way to enrich and vary the Orthodox discussions that are conducted by means of the Shabbat-Portion leaflets. Young people in the organization produce the leaflet, which deals with issues of particular concern to them and their outlook. The leaflet discusses religious and Israeli topics in an effort to bridge the religious and modern worlds. The writers of Et liDrosh are prominent cultural figures from religious and Israeli society, alongside young leaders who seek to take part in shaping the face of society. Past interviewees include Rabbi Yuval Cherlow and Rabbi Yehuda Gilad, Prof. Aviezer Ravizky, Ilana Dayan, and Ehud Banai. We believe that the exposure of the Orthodox public to different voices is likely to assist a formation of openness, tolerance, and attentiveness to different approaches.

Bet Midrash Re'im

The Orthodox community offers many institutions for Orthodox youth that are dedicated to the study of Torah. However, while the vast majority of Torah study institutions are run separately for women and for men, Re’im encourages men and women to learn together. We believe that the separation of men and women in the Bet Midrash detaches the experience of learning from life, and creates a reality in which the place where young people study Torah does not reflect their way of life.

For the past few years, NTA has operated a unique Orthodox Bet Midrash, named Re'im (Companions) open to both men and women. The Bet Midrash is composed of a group of young Orthodox men and women in their twenties, most of them students, graduates of institutes of higher Jewish learning. In the Bet Midrash Re'im, participants diligently study the Bible and Talmud and discuss issues in Jewish Thought, including a wide spectrum of topics connected to the general world's culture. The teachers combine in their lessons different historical and cultural perspectives, and special emphasis is given to the relevance to the critical issues that concern day-to-day life in Israeli society in the twenty-first century.

Activities to Improve Religious Services in Israel

Religious services in the State of Israel are in a serious crisis. The lack of proper marriage and divorce proceedings, burial arrangements that are not always conducted with due sensitivity, the piling up of difficulties in the conversion process, and other issues that are not addressed properly—these all create situations of injustice and anguish to a wide sector of the Israeli and Jewish society who come into contact with the institutions responsible for religious services in Israel. These problems cause a severance of the general public from religious institutions and ultimately from Judaism itself. The public's lack of trust—and the increasing discoveries of corruption—have brought about the dismantling of the Ministry of Religious Affairs; but a solution has not yet been put into place for providing appropriate, well-administered religious services.

In an attempt to address these problems, NTA established a committee of experts, including rabbis and academics, whose task was to formulate a comprehensive program that will provide religious services in Israel. The committee, which operates on a volunteer basis, formulated its recommendations in a report entitled "Report of the Religious Services Committee," whose main conclusion speaks of the need to transfer administrative responsibility for matters pertaining to religion from the political echelon to the civilian realm.

NTA promotes the implementation of the Committee's recommendations through activities on the political level through an effort to form a lobby in the Knesset (the Israeli Parliament) for changing the current structure of religious services in Israel. There is also a level of public awareness: our efforts are focused on exposing the wider public to the religious services crisis, and to offering possible solutions for addressing this situation.

NTA is the only organization in Israel that has dealt in a comprehensive way with the issues of religious services and has formulated a detailed proposal for changes. In this regard, the organization has dealt not only with the problem of marriage and divorce—with which many women's organizations are also involved—but also with the entirety of the issues related to the connection between religion and state. The implementation of the Report’s recommendations has the potential to initiate substantial, positive change in the relationship of citizens to religious services, and to constitute a turning point in the Jewish character of the State of Israel.

 NTA cooperates with other organizations in working for a solution to specific problems in the area of religious services. In the Ikar coalition, we work together with organizations struggling for a solution to the problem of aginut, in which women whose husbands have refused to grant them a religious divorce are not free to remarry.

  We take part in running the non-profit organization, Menuha Nekhona–Jerusalem. This organization was founded in order to provide an inclusive burial procedure for all Jews (Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, and unaffiliated) in Jerusalem. It is a known fact that an exclusively Hareidi monopoly runs all of the religious services in Israel, including all the burial procedures. This reality is even further emphasized in Jerusalem's cemetery, which is dominated by strict hlakhic rules. A daughter is not permitted to say Kaddish, a wife may not eulogize her husband, and a non-Orthodox Jew won't be buried unless approved by the Hareidi officials in charge. These are just a few examples of the problems of an exclusive Orthodox monopoly. NTA, together with Menuha Nekhona, strives to change this reality, and offers inclusive burial procedures in Jerusalem's cemetery. We already received approval from the Israeli Supreme Court for a burial area in Jerusalem's cemetery, and we plan to start using this area in the coming year.

Together with the women’s organizations Mavoi Satum and Kolekh, we are teaming up with Modern Orthodox rabbinic groups in Israel and in America in a landmark initiative to create an alternative rabbinical court. This is an attempt to create a real change in the religious apparatus that chains woman, converts, immigrants, non-Orthodox Jews, and others, and holds the entire country hostage to an antiquated system of a Hareidi monopoly. We believe that this alternative Bet Din could be the way to break this monopoly, and we hope that it will start functioning in the coming months.

  In conclusion, let me return to the title of this article: Can we prevent the hareidization of Modern Orthodox Judaism? There isn't, of course, any sure way to know how Orthodox Jewry will develop. We can promise, though, that in NTA we are doing everything possible within our means to promote a more pluralistic, tolerant, and inclusive Judaism that will restore the basic values of combining Torah with derekh erets; halakha with morality and human rights; the ancient Jewish tradition with the modern world. We hope we will succeed in preventing, to the extent possible, the hareidization of Modern Orthodox Jewry.

For comments please contact us by email: [email protected].

Our question is surely of great interest to Jews everywhere, but in the State of Israel it has existential force, and must be confronted every day. As we were writing this article, a brouhaha developed over an Arab justice on the Supreme Court who refused to sing Hatikvah at the installation of the new Chief Justice. All of the tensions between Judaism and democracy in Israel were brought out into the open by this event, however irrelevant it is to the real questions before us.

An apt way to open our discussion is to cite a verse from Psalms. The Psalmist says (19:8):  Torat Hashem Temimah…, The Torah of the Lord is perfect, renewing life; the decrees of the Lord are enduring, making the simple wise. Does the word temimah here mean “perfect,” without flaw, or “perfect” in the sense of complete? If the latter, then Torah must have a position on democracy.  Rambam, however, tells us that the first meaning of the word temimah in our verse is to be preferred (Guide of the Perplexed II.39, Pines translation p. 380):

Things are similar with regard to this Law, as is clear from its equibalance. For it says (Devarim 4:8): Just statutes and judgments now you know that the meaning of just is equibalanced. For these are manners of worship in which there is no burden and excess—such as monastic life and pilgrimage and similar things—nor a deficiency necessarily leading to greed and being engrossed in the indulgence of appetites, so that in consequence the perfection of man is diminished with respect to his moral habits and to his speculation—this being the case with regard to all the other nomoi [laws] of the religious communities in the past. When we shall speak in this treatise about the reasons accounting for the commandments, their equibalance and wisdom will be make clear to you insofar as this is necessary. For this reason it is said with reference to them (Tehillim 19:8): The Torah of the Lord is perfect. As for those who deem that its burdens are grievous, heavy, and difficult to bear— all of this is due to an error in considering them. I shall explain later on how easy they are in true reality according to the opinion of the perfect.[1]

According to Rambam, then, the word Torah, in our verse, refers to God's commandments (paralleling the word edut [decrees] in the second half of the verse); these commandments, unlike those in other putative bodies of divine law, are equibalanced: neither demanding too much nor too little. There is no claim here that the Torah is perfect in the sense of being complete, covering all aspects of life.

We start our discussion, therefore, with the following assumption: The Torah does not have positions about everything. The implications of this simple-sounding statement are actually substantial. If this assumption is correct, then there can be true and correct values independent of Torah. These values can cohere with the Torah, contradict the Torah, coexist with the Torah while remaining independent of it (i.e., neither cohere with nor contradict the Torah), or be hitherto unnoticed consequences of Torah. If this is correct, then the expansive notion of da'at Torah popular in many Orthodox circles today is clearly false.[2] It also follows that while many aspects of life are commanded, and others are forbidden, there are also aspects of life about which Torah, as it were, has no opinion. This latter approach is supported by Rambam, who writes in "Laws of the Foundations of the Torah," chapter ix:

It is clearly and explicitly set forth in the Torah that its ordinances will endure for ever without variation, diminution or addition; as it is said, All this word which I command you, that shall ye observe to do ; thou shalt not add to it, nor take away from it (Devarim 13:1); and further it is said but the things that are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever; that we may do all the words of this Law (Devarim 29:28). Hence the inference that to fulfill all the behests of the Torah is an obligation incumbent upon us forever, as it is said, It is an everlasting statute throughout your generations (vaYikra 23:14, Bemidbar 18:23). It is also said, It is not in heaven (Devarim 30:12)—hence, the inference that a prophet is forbidden to make innovations in the Torah. Accordingly, if any one should arise, whether among the Gentiles or among the Israelites, and, showing a sign and token, declare that God had sent him to add a precept to the Torah or take away a precept from the Torah, or give an interpretation to any of the commandments, such as we had not heard from Moses; or should assert that the commandments ordained to Israel are not of perpetual obligation for all generations but only temporary, such a man is a false prophet, because he sets out to deny the prophecy of Moses. He is to be put to death by strangling because he spoke perversely in the name of God that which God had not bidden him, for the Lord enjoined Moses that this Commandment shall be unto us and to our children after us forever. And God is not a man that he should lie. Since this is so, why is it said in the Torah, I will raise them up a prophet from among their brethren, like unto thee (Devarim 18:18)? The answer is that the prophet here referred to, will come, not to found a religion, but to charge the people concerning the words of the Torah and exhort them not to transgress it; as the last of the prophets expressed it, Remember ye the law of Moses, My servant (Malachi 3:22). And so, if the prophet gives an order in regard to things permissible, as for instance, if he says "Go to that place" or "Do not go to it,” "Wage war today" or "Do not wage war,” "Build this wall" or "Do not build it,” it is a duty to obey him. Whoever transgresses his instructions incurs the penalty of death by the hand of God, as it is said, And it shall come to pass, that whosoever will not hearken unto the words of the prophet which he shall speak in My Name, I will require it of him (Devarim 18:19).[3]

The point we wish to emphasize here is Rambam's assertion that prophets have the right to command with respect to permissible matters. In this regard, prophets are distinct from rabbis, who do not have that right. Rambam posits what today would be called a "separation of powers" between rabbis, prophets, and, we might add, kings. From Rambam's perspective, the attempt to expand rabbinic authority into areas of social and political questions (the so-called doctrine of da'at Torah) reflects an attempt by rabbis to expand their authority in the face of the vacuum created by the absence of prophecy and the absence of royalty. Rambam wrote his works long after the cessation of prophecy and long after the disappearance of royalty in Judaism; it is therefore probably safe to assume that he would not look with favor upon contemporary attempts to present da'at Torah as an essential element of classical Jewish thought. That does not mean that he would oppose its use as an ad hoc measure to stem the tides of assimilation. There is simply no way of knowing.

Let us examine some of the issues about which Torah appears not to have an opinion. Our late teacher and friend Steven S. Schwarzschild would disagree with what we are about to write, but we do not believe that Torah has a position on the debate between capitalism and socialism.[4] This should be hardly surprising: there were no capitalists or socialists at Sinai, or at Yavneh. Torah has no position on "Obamacare" or on the wisdom of American policy in Iraq and Afghanistan. Torah certainly has no opinion on whom to vote for in the upcoming American elections, or even in Israeli elections.

There are many other issues about which Orthodox Jews who take Torah very seriously cannot agree. Torah has a position on these issues, but honesty compels us to admit that we cannot say what it is (even though we certainly have strong opinions ourselves on what Torah teaches in these matters). Here are some examples:

• Are human beings in some significant sense all equally created in the image of God? The tradition is (sadly) deeply divided over this issue. In general, is Torah fundamentally universalist or fundamentally particularist?
• Is Kabbalah a part of Torah, or a dangerous deviation from it? The issue has been decided within the world of tradition, but for centuries it divided that very world. Similarly, does Torah have a clear cut position on the value of the "secular" arts and sciences?
• Is the State of Israel part of the messianic process, religiously neutral, or a dangerous deviation from Torah?
• Is territorial compromise with Palestinians opposed by Torah (the view of many Zionist rabbis), demanded by Torah (the view of a much smaller cadre of Zionist rabbis), or a practical matter to be decided by generals and politicians, not rabbis (reportedly the view of the late Rav Joseph B. Soloveitchik)?
• How does the Torah deal with scientific theories, such as evolution? (Rav Kook saw in the theory of evolution an expression of the way in which God works in the world; many of his followers today are deeply embarrassed by that.)

One could easily multiply these examples. There have been thinkers who have tried to finesse these debates, denying that there is any true tension between the various apparently opposed positions, and there are many among us today who adopt one side of each of these debated issues and condemn as un-Jewish those who disagree with them. It is more historically and theologically accurate to admit that we simply cannot determine what Torah's position is on these issues.

Not only are there long-standing disagreements within the tradition over fundamental values, it is hard to deny that those values have changed over the generations and continue to change in front of us. The Torah commands genocide: are there any (sane) Jews today who actually expect to do to Amalek what the Germans did to us? The Torah condones and in some cases enjoins slavery. Is there any (sane) rabbi today who would accept the reinstitution of biblical slavery? Polygamy, which was practiced among some Jews within living memory is another example. We should be honest about this: our values have changed. How to relate those changes to our understanding of Torah is too big an issue to address here, but we do not want to pretend that it does not exist. In addition to values which have changed, we have values which are changing before our very eyes: the status and role of women, for example. There are other values which will likely change in the not too distant future: the attitude of Orthodoxy towards homosexuals, for example.[5]

Now, finally: what about democracy? Does Torah have a position on democracy?

First of all, what is democracy? Is it a set of procedures (such as majority rule)? Is it a set of values (such as human equality)? Or, as we hold, is it a set of procedures determined by certain values? Procedures in democratic states and societies vary widely. Some have constituency-based elections (as in the USA), in which the electorate chooses individuals; others have party-based elections, in which voters choose a party list, but not the individuals making it up (largely the case in Israel). In some democracies (as in the U.S.) free speech is a fundamental value (unlike the case in the UK, where protection of speech is much weaker than in the U.S.). Separation of Church and State is a fundamental dogma in the United States, very much not the case in the United Kingdom, and, sadly, certainly not the case in Israel. In some democracies, the separation of powers is a dogma, while in others (as in many parliamentary systems), the executive is a subset of the legislative. In the United States the executive and legislative branches together choose the judiciary, whereas in Israel the judiciary is largely independent of the other branches of government and to a very great extent self-perpetuating. Some democracies, like Canada and the United States, are very much "states of all their citizens" in which citizens have no shared ethnicity or religion, and relatively little in the way of shared values (and the nature of whatever shared values there may be is hotly debated), while others, such as Israel, France, Norway, Hungary, Greece, Turkey, and probably most other functioning democracies, privilege one ethnic or cultural group over all others.

Even assuming that Torah has an opinion about democracy as a form of government (something which we very much doubt), it certainly takes no position on the matters sketched in the last paragraph. In fact, if pushed to the wall, it probably makes sense to claim that Torah does not look with favor upon democracy, since most authoritative texts look forward to a messianic monarchy. Rambam, whom we have already cited twice, certainly was no democrat and looked forward to a messianic king and a renewed Sanhedrin.  Further, democracy is based upon a notion of rights, while the Torah appears to be based upon a notion of obligations (from which, of course, one may derive certain rights, but they remain derivative).

The Torah may have no view on democracy, but we certainly do. We hold these truths to be dear, if unfortunately not yet self-evident, that all human beings are created in the image of their Creator, and that each is thereby endowed with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of self-fulfillment, where such pursuit does not infringe upon the rights of others. It follows from this, as night follows day, that we support forms of government which protect these rights. We are fundamentally uninterested in the question of whether we hold these values because they are derived from, or at the very least consistent with the Torah as we understand it, or because we were both raised in classic liberal homes, or for some combination of these and other possible reasons. It is simply the case that these values are very important to us; furthermore, we believe that they can to a great extent be justified rationally and morally—they are not simply a matter of taste or sentiment.

It follows from all that we have said that, aside from matters of issur veHeter, we do not look to rabbis as such for guidance. We have seen no evidence that halakhic competence, however great, is smoothly translated into social or political wisdom.[6]

Having brought the discussion this far, we discover that we have several problems. For one thing, we would like our basic values (commitment to Torah and commitment to democracy) to cohere in some significant sense, rather than simply be consistent one with the other.[7] We would particularly like them to fit together and interpenetrate each other.

We also have a problem that, because we live in the State of Israel, we face every day. It is not enough for us to affirm that in principle halakha and democracy do not conflict. We want a halakha for a democratic and Jewish state (in the world today). At the moment, we are Jews, we are also Israelis, and we are also democrats; we would prefer to be Israeli Jewish democrats. Torah and democracy can, of course, conflict, especially when each side of the equation seeks to expand beyond its appropriate boundaries. As noted above, the doctrine of da'at Torah is an example of the world of halakha seeking to impose itself in areas it was never meant to enter. The same can happen with respect to democracy. A good way of seeing both is to take note of a statement attributed to the former Chief Justice of the Israeli Supreme Court, Professor Aharon Barak: haKol shafit (everything is judiciable).[8] Similarly, all too many rabbis believe that haKol pasik (everything is subject to halakhic pesak, or decision). When judges decide that they know how democratic values (as they construe them) should impinge on every aspect of society, and when rabbis decide that Torah has something decisive to say about every social issue, conflict cannot be avoided. When these judges and rabbis are Israelis, then …

Zionists believe that, especially after the Holocaust, a Jewish state is not only a religious and moral requirement, but also a necessity. But ingathering the exiles, and establishing Jewish sovereignty in our ancient homeland is something for which Jewish history and Jewish tradition are wholly unprepared. Even those who are sure (or would like to hope) that the State of Israel is the athalta deGeulah, the first phase of messianic redemption, have to admit that Jewish history, Jewish texts, Jewish teachings give no indication of how to create a Jewish state. With the possible exceptions of Rabbis Aharon Kook, Shlomo Goren, Haim David Halevy, and David Hartman (for all their differences) almost no rabbis in the Land of Israel have had the courage to look this new reality in the face and ask themselves: what must be done in order to create a Jewish state in the modern world? When we add to that equation the demand that a modern Jewish state be a democracy, then we can hunt high and low and not find any rabbi who has approached the problem in any significant way.

A third problem was brought home to us recently when we heard a very secular radio personality opening her talk show by intoning, Oseh shalom bimromav, hu ya'aseh shalom aleinu veAl kol haOlam: "May He Who makes peace in His heights, make peace upon us and upon all the world." Surely a sentiment with which we agree, but, we wondered, what is so terrible about the traditional ending of the Kaddish: Oseh shalom bimromav, hu ya'aseh shalom aleinu veAl kol yisrael: "May He Who makes peace in His heights, make peace upon us and upon all Israel." This person clearly has a problem with Jewish particularism. Without knowing much about her, it is probably safe to say that she thinks that there is a tension between democracy and Jewish identity, and, feeling forced to choose, prefers the former over the latter. Given realities in the world of traditional Jewish observance today, what could we say that would convince her that she is wrong?

In conclusion, it appears that our problems follow from the imperfect nature of our world. The Torah is temimah, perfect, but its interpreters certainly are not. Seeking the sort of perfection in which all of our ideals not only do not conflict with each other, but actually entail each other, appears to be a messianic dream. If that is the case, does it not behoove us to make our world as messiah-worthy as possible? For us, that means working towards a world in which M. Sanhedrin iv.5 serves as guide. That Mishna teaches that every single human being must say, "The world was created for my sake," meaning that the world was created for the sake of every other human being as well. This mishnaic ideal entails the notion of human equality, and indeed, a notion of human dignity. From this it appears clear to us that democracy, as a set of procedures meant to embody the ideals of human equality and dignity, is the form of government the wide adoption of which is most likely to make the world messiah-worthy. So, in the final analysis, halakha and democracy may not cohere today, but they should, and, at some point in the future when we are worthy of it, they will.