Thursday 19 February 2015

The educational vision of Rabbi Isaiah Horowitz (The Shelah)

Here is a link of the talk I gave at the Oxford Chabad Society, hope you enjoy!

http://www.oxfordchabad.org/multimedia/media_cdo/aid/2865242/jewish/The-Educational-Vision-of-Rabbi-Isaiah-Horowitz.htm

Sunday 8 February 2015

I am not a number, I am a free man: The necessity of Modern Orthodoxy (Final instalment in the series)





“I am not a number, I am a free man!” The catchphrase of a TV show that I recommend to anyone who likes the best of what TV has to offer, particularly if you enjoy the slightly psychedelic offerings of the late 60s: The Prisoner. Even if you don’t normally watch TV, I would dust down the old VHS inside the secret passageway behind the Artscroll Gemorohs and see a few episodes by candlelight. If anyone particularly pious is reading this, it’s completely Kosher as Patrick Mcgoohan, the main character, refused to be involved in any scenes involving hanky-panky due to his Christian beliefs. It has taught me as much about the potential and importance of faithfulness to one’s own self than anything else.

Something interesting that I came across recently is the idea that one of the hallmarks of the modern period is a move in focus towards the individual and their inherent value. The Talmud has several references to the intrinsic worth of the individual including “Bishvili Nivra Ha’Olam – For me the world was created” and “if you save the life of one person, it is as if you have saved the life of the whole world”.  

The focus on a person’s ability to make their own moral decisions and have worth just for being themselves was a development that was rarely focused upon before the 18th Century. I haven’t got round to reading a few classics on the subject that were recommended in a recent seminar but I hope to soon. In some ways this development can be seen in Hassidut. The focus fades from the Kabbalistic idea of fixing the cosmos and achieving a national redemption through specifically designated mystical practices to one whereby the individual could bring about personal and national redemption through their own mitzvoth and correct intentions.

A particularly interesting aspect of this that I noticed a few months ago was the response to one who sins. What is the motivation behind bringing a sinner to repent? Classically, the purpose of befriending the individual who had left the way of observance was to facilitate the restoration of the sinner’s performance of the correct actions and re-integration into the community of Israel. If they failed to respond correctly, however, it was probably not a valuable way to spend your time. Yet an element that is novel in the writings of R. Schneur Zalman in the Tanya is that we wish to pay attention to the ‘sinner’ simply because they are human beings and therefore people of worth. It doesn’t matter how they respond, they are important, they matter and we have a responsibility to them. A person deserves love even if they do not and will not act correctly.

It is this element which I believe is the greatest contribution modern orthodoxy is able to provide to Jewish society. Not as a religious ideology or movement but as an essential religious mind-set. To all Jews regardless of shirt colour. Whilst a community is defined by tangible and physical entities, the individual craves space for personal creativity. As the prisoner no.6 says, “ I will not be pushed, filed,stampedindexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered. My life is my own.” What Modern Orthodoxy promotes is the creation of a space whereby the individual can choose the path they take and give dignity and meaning to their personal lives. It is here I distinguish between two commonly used terms which are often used interchangeably but mean completely different things: Open mindedness and broad-mindedness.

This is not an exercise in semantics. Being open minded is essential for every human being regardless of how many hats you wear in the morning or whether or not you sing Hatikva straight before breakfast. It has nothing to do with ideology. It is simply the ability to recognise the intrinsic worth of other human beings. If I am not open minded I will never be able to have a successful relationship with anyone else because I will never be able to accept that the world can exist outside of my own context. I can never escape my own self-centred nature and actually help others in ways that will be beneficial to them. If a community is not open minded it cannot truly care for those within it or accept the individuals who occupy its borders who deviate from any norms whatsoever. 

It leads to basic character traits such as kindness and a desire to do good. It doesn’t mean I read the Independent and vote Labour. If I am able to understand that the guy down the road who wears a streimel and goes to Mikveh every day of the week is doing so out of his own conviction, and similarly that one who is non-observant has their own inner world that I cannot really relate to but can appreciate regardless, then I am able to function as a communally-minded person. I don’t need to agree with their lifestyles or even understand them, but I certainly need to have the humility to appreciate that I may not be the only one out there who has thought about the world. I respect you. I may not agree with you, or be able to understand you, but that is ok.

Mini rant: If I was to ever manufacture popular T- Shirts, which is a distinctly unlikely prospect but certainly one potential use for my CV, it would say something along the lines of “People are not Milk”. Why? Because we love seeing people in terms of whether they are ‘on’ or ‘off’ like a little switch. Sometimes I imagine the predicament of a person living in this weird sort of fridge, approaching their sell-by date. Hmmm. Shut the fridge door, stop worrying about them going off and try and understand what they are about.

In a way, the beauty of what Modern Orthodoxy has specifically come to stand for is this openness which recognises potential and the understanding that it is theoretically possible to gain from broadened horizons even if one may choose to reject it themselves.

This leads me to broad-mindedness, which is something completely different. This is what Modern Orthodoxy is most frequently associated with. To be a broad-minded religious individual is to have a certain vision in life which constantly seeks to integrate universal elements into the religious experience. For some, it will be the pursuit of philosophy, the sciences, travelling, charity projects, literature etc. For others these will be distractions and a waste of time. It is an active restlessness which pursues what are apparently ‘secular’ activities as a means of fulfilling the individual personality, without which it feels unfulfilled and frustrated. What many modern Orthodox thinkers are trying to grasp and define, in my opinion, is simply the spirit of broad-mindedness within the individual. A desire to see all frontiers of knowledge as expressions of God’s wisdom. A way of expanding the sphere of religion beyond religious action. This is perhaps a rare spirit, and one which sometimes we are made to feel needs suppression. But it is not a movement or a core identity partly for the reason that it does not and cannot carry slogans as part of its self-expression. Crucially, I think it is something that is real to some people and imaginary to others. It is hard to make that the ideological basis for a generic group of people. 

So, all in all it makes sense for me to reject the three card trick presented by many as the categories of contemporary Orthodoxy in a manner reminiscent of a ticket inspector on a train:
“Hello sir, with whom do you associate? The Modern Orthodox or of those of a more Chareidi persuasion? And would you like sugar with that?” “I’m sorry sir/madam, I cannot accept the terms you are offering me, I will have to shop elsewhere.”

Ideological choice shouldn't be confused for what is a vital religious framework. Breadth presents you with a wide spectrum. If your conclusion is that you find meaning exclusively through Talmud Torah and see nothing in, say poetry and ‘culture’ then great. Go for it. This shouldn’t make you ideologically ‘narrow minded’ or persona non-grata in the MO camp. It’s just part of being an individual where you need to make judgement calls about these things.

I have some friends who cannot understand how anything other than Gemarah Rashi Tosfos is a valid expression of religiosity. They see the rest as nice decoration but not the meat and potatoes. I get that, to be honest. I would be a complete and utter fool if I was to try and showcase the attractions of a Beethoven symphony and medieval longbow techniques to these people (or any people, for that matter). Actually, forget the symphony bit I would get distracted and start talking about batting averages of England test openers in the 50s. I digress. It would mean nothing to them and would be shameless and pretentious.

 Something life has taught me in the last year or so is that an essential element of human relationships is the ability to understand the context of the person you are addressing and appreciate that they will process their experiences within that framework.

I have other friends, on the other hand, who read books obsessively and whilst might appreciate the world of Talmud Torah would readily admit it is not what gets them up in the morning. For them, the ‘broad minded’ paradigm which Modern Orthodoxy appears to offer with its remarkable variety of personalities, subject matters and creativity, this can be religious salvation. But are they intrinsically more Modox ( I know that is an annoying word) than their counterparts who decide to send their children to schools which offer less secular education? (I am not talking about the practical value of education/ gets you jobs etc. that is a separate subject and one which plenty of blogs happily rant about and is not my style)   

I could just conclude that the broad mindedness that we like to refer to as Modern Orthodoxy is for the individual but not for the community and cannot be constructed as a system. But I won’t say that. This is because modernity somehow becomes synonymous with open-mindedness as well. Basic values have become confused with a mysterious modern ideology. The open-mindedness which contains within it so many aspects of essential goodness becomes dismissed as innovation. Without this element, I don’t see how any community can thrive and be a successful example to others.

 Being part of an open-minded community is wonderful for the simple luxury of not feeling judged and meeting people who are warm and welcoming. Being tolerant and accepting is just part of being decent human beings, not a liberal conspiracy. The attractiveness of the self-defined modern Orthodox communities is not the ideology but rather that its open-mindedness is a breath of fresh air which is fundamentally and beautifully human. It remains symbolised by figures such as R. Soloveitchik as it aspires for the full-flowing expression of the human spirit to be expressed in profoundly religious ways even if none of its members ever pick up a book of his in their lives. The collective framework is open-mindedness (essential) and the individual element is the broad-mindedness (optional).


To  semi-conclude my last four posts, in my mind the ‘Modern-Orthodoxy’ of R. Hirsch in 19th Century Germany, Rav Soloveitchik in YU or R'Lichtenstein in the Gush is not a movement but rather the manifestation of a certain spirit into a particular society and culture which enabled it to flourish. The creative personalities of these individuals are embodiments of individuality at its flowering summit rather than the outcomes of an ideological movement. And I ask myself, is there really an ideal model for a perfect society? As long as people have free will, no. But that very Modern Orthodox value of open-mindedness promotes a communal spirit which can lead to people bringing out the best in the others around them, with all their 'perfect imperfections', because all in all, I guess we are just bricks in the wall, and in my mind this is certainly something to be celebrated. 

Monday 2 February 2015

The Rabbi and the dangers of authority. (Why Modern Orthodoxy has never existed, part 3)


In cricket, the middle-order are the rocks of the batting line up. After the openers have come and gone and hopefully seen off the new ball, these herculean competitors are the consolidators, builders and brutal enforcers. Every Test team has one in the present or recent past who they look upon fondly. India had Tendulkar, Dravid, Laxman and Ganguly. South Africa have De Villiers, Amla and until very recently Kallis. Without a good middle order, the team collapses into the Test match wilderness. They help to create calm and stability within the team.

My last post basically said that the modern concept of Modern Orthodoxy is flawed because it focuses too much on what it believes and less on what it does. What it tries to espouse in the name of a community can only be achieved on a personal level. This is not a defeatist approach, either, it just identifies the difference between personal and communal development.  Historically, the great broad-minded paradigms have never existed as entities by themselves.

I thought I should add something interesting that I read in Mordechai Breuer's book about Orthodoxy in Germany in the 19th Century. One is that other than R. Hirsch, Germany did not really produce creative thinkers in the area of the integration of humanistic, ethical and moral teachings with Jewish thought, with novel takes on the Chumash and Aggadah. By and large, German Orthodoxy defined itself in terms of practical integration in the business world rather than ideological integration. We often take texts such as Hirsch's and assume its deeply thought out lessons were absorbed by those privileged enough to hear them. We forget that for most congregants they were words of inspiration but probably not used for practical guidance.

 For many, the key point was that there existed in their midsts a great ideologue who could buttress, support and justify their lifestyles. The hallowed ideal that every action undertaken with the right intent, including secular actions, could be part of man's service of God was often more of a declarative assertion than a lived reality. What R.Hirsch gave the Orthodox was a pride and more importantly, a confidence in the way they lived their lives. The books survive the test of time for the benefit of later generations but the experience of the community had little to do with written works. The world of ideas is great fun, complex and tumultuous but largely remains in the imagination of the individual. 

It is perhaps this that I admire most in R. Hirsch as a leader. The lack of defensiveness. The lack of apologetics. The self-confidence. The lack of belonging to a particular institution. He did not view his system as the bedieved approach that the Lithuanian Chareidi world would like to imagine. And he certainly was not a Zionist. In my mind this is another reason why Modern Orthodoxy as a world of ideas has never existed on its own,  rather it has relied on dynamic leaders who have lived in their own world of ideas. But without these leaders it seems lost, because it tries to build itself around the ideas which were the experiences of one unique individual who could never be fully emulated. 


 I have recently become quite taken by this idea of confidence vs apologetics. I see an enormous difference between religious thinkers who act as though everything they do is a response to something else pushing them in that direction and those who are able to stand on their own two feet and integrate their own experiences into their decision making. I get the impression that everyone feels threatened all the time in the realm of thought. A defensive approach which is common is one which seems to feel the need to justify a Judaism under attack from scientific research, for example, and try to discredit the 'aggressors' (be that evolution or secular culture). One which constantly fears for its survival. A non-defensive approach would evaluate and try to admire and understand each for what they were. In fact, I feel that the fact that so many contemporary thinkers seem to devote their time exclusively to these sort of apologetics undermines the authenticity of their endeavour.


Alternatively, defensiveness can lead to an attitude where every innovation is feared and suspected and conformity is demanded. The way I see it, in a world of defensiveness principles are only important if they have the support from the consensus. If scandals arise in a community, the defensive lie in wait for one of the seniors to make a statement. Looking over the shoulder all the time. Fearful. Dependent. 

'Keep calm and carry on'. It's a fairly good slogan, to be honest. Calming down would do most people a lot of good, myself included. Confidence breeds calm, and it seems very rare. The rabbi, I would argue, is more like a middle order than a captain. He doesn't necessarily need to generate ideas, tactics or masterplans but he must be the rock, exude confidence, keep calm and carry on. Who do we want him to be? The one who knows Halacha well and stays out of our business? The pioneer of a new direction in Jewish thought? Someone to invest in personally? Someone who gives our lifestyles some sort of legitimacy? Maybe all of them, maybe none of them, I don't know how important it is. But he must be able to keep the calm within the community. Keep the confidence going. And lead without controlling.


 Authority, I realise, is one of the most difficult areas of life to manage effectively. Over the last few weeks I have seen that it can become a lethal tool in the wrong hands. The challenges of the modern day rabbi are enormous. He is expected to be a thousand different things ranging from town psychologist and moral guide to the officiator at weddings and sadly at burials. Burnt out from exhaustion, buried in the hail poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail, hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn. It certainly takes its toll on some. You can end up being a politician and become embroiled with finances. And, after all, money doesn't talk, it swears.  

 In Iggerot ha Rambam p.308 quoted in Moshe Halbertal's book Maimonides life and works I found a gem of a quote which has been added to my hall of fame of legendary lines: "Regarding most men of religion who are possessed of authority, their piety leaves them". Taken on its own this sounds cynical but I take a very sober warning from it. It is sad but not surprising that religious authority and political leadership have rarely worked out well together.

Religious authority leaves you with more responsibilities and demands than most people are feasibly able to manage. It can put you on a pedestal, make you into a hero, and give you a nice projection as a pension to hide behind. You are asked for advice and assumed to possess some sort of superhuman wisdom and understanding. If everyone thinks that you are an expert in all areas of people management, weather forecasts, dating advice and marriage issues who are you to argue? But behind the smoke and mirrors it is easy to forget that real people have staked their very lives on your reputation. What you say really counts and will affect the lifestyles, marriages and relationships of the people you advise directly. But you will not be there to pick up the pieces. The charisma of your position can blind you to the consequences of your actions. It can also lead to the neglect of other areas of life, sometimes the most important areas. If you follow the above Dylan song's conclusion on a google search I might suggest some of the more dramatic consequences of when overexertion takes its toll.


I have no doubt that when they start out most religious educators are filled to the brim with enthusiasm, passion and commitment to being pious and sincere leaders. But to be able to maintain the piety and deeply felt humanity that you once possessed when you suddenly realise that you have a family to support, promotions to achieve, funds to raise, appearances to maintain and still retain the bravery to do the right thing is quite often beyond the capabilities of most individuals. Knowing the limits of your own authority when no-one else has given you any can be an impossible challenge.

 For example, how easy is it  to actually listen to the problems that come your way 10 years down the line when you think you've heard them a million times before? You already know the answers, right? So you give an answer which smacks of: "I know exactly what you went through, I used to be like you, but now I'm perfect, so be like me". It's easy to mistake yourself for the image you have created along the way, and the people who trust you suffer as a result. One of the challenges of modern day leadership in the religious community is the challenge not to allow your status to blind you from the job you have to do, the idealism that once drove you and the institutionalisation that could engulf you. Hello my son, welcome to the machine. 

 This has been a fairly unclear rant, I realise. What I am trying to express is the fact that I have begun to see the development of a defensive culture of dependency from both religious leadership and in terms of attitudes within the religious community. I have see the dangers of the cult of the individual that this can create and the people who are hurt by it and become deeply disillusioned.  I'm partly thinking like this because of the upcoming Yahrzeit of Dayan Lopian Ztz'l. I feel he epitomised the person who never lost the deeply human understanding of life situations whilst retaining great piety and would never forget the individual behind the question asked. We would do well to learn from his example. Keep calm and carry on.