This is an article written by Rav Chaim Dov Keller ztz"l, the RY of Telz-Chicago, in 1970 in the Jewish Observer z"l. It must be taken into account that this was the year after the Mets won their first World Series and the Cubs were in the midst of a really looooong drought which would continue for many years to come. In addition, Michael Jordan was only seven years old so the Bulls were years away from their stardom. But this in no way impacted Rav Keller b/c he had far more important things to do with his time than engage in the frivolity of following sports. Like learning Toras Hashem.
In any event, I would submit that nothing he writes here applies to Modern Orthodoxy in our times. MO has come a long way [even though there is much to improve]. What he writes DOES apply to what is called today "Open Orthodox" or left wing liberal Orthodoxy.
The purpose of this study is to analyze from a Torah perspective the movement that is commonly called “Modern Orthodoxy.” Actually, Modern Orthodoxy is not a movement in the accepted sense of the term. Some of its own exponents hesitate to call it thus, for fear of creating a schism. It has no well-defined leadership, no central organization. It does not possess a monolithic ideology. Yet unquestionably, it is a trend in Jewish life today.
Seventeen years ago, my sainted Rebbe, Reb Elya Meir Bloch zt”l, Telshe Rosh Yeshiva, made a remark which I vividly remember since the occasion was my own wedding: “We no longer have to fear Conservatism – that is no longer the danger. Everyone knows that it is avoda zara. What we have to fear is Modern Orthodoxy.” The great danger – the Rosh Yeshiva was saying – is not from those movements in Jewish life which have already openly declared, by their pronouncements and practices, their break with the past and their rejection of the age-old standards of Torah. Such movements do not deceive any longer. What we to have to fear, though, are movements that still speak in the name of Orthodoxy and tradition but which in thought and action represent an entirely new concept of Torah and Yiddishkeit.
What prompted Reb Elya Meir to make at that time such a blunt statement? Most probably, the proliferation of synagogues which, although Orthodox in name, were not so in practice. The lowering or complete disappearance of the mechitza, the displacement of the bima from the center of the shul, the use of microphones on Shabbos, late Friday evening services, confirmation ceremonies – these were but a few of the Reform practices which had been adapted by synagogues operating under the protection of the time – honored Orthodox label. Of course, the label in due time was dressed-up for popular approval by the addition of the ameliorative “modern.” (Discussing Modern Orthodoxy, Rabbi Norman Lamm, in an article on “Modern Orthodoxy’s Identity Crisis,” Jewish Life, May-June 1969, observed that “the term Orthodox is almost pejorative; it implies a stilling and unthinking narrow mindedness.” As a matter of fact, the more liberal synagogues in the Chicago area have, for this reason, dropped the term altogether and use the designation “Traditional.”) Reb Elya Meir made his stand well known that transgressions in one’s private life were one thing, but any departure from Torah norms in the Beis Haknesses was akin to avoda zara.
All of this was seventeen years ago. Since then, the problem has not disappeared – if anything, it has steadily increased. The threat of which Reb Elya Meir spoke and the problems to which he eluded, are still very much with us; but Modern Orthodoxy, in recent years, has assumed a new dimension. No longer does the term merely stand for a trend towards unorthodox practices in the synagogue. As the result of the work of a handful of articulate and, it would certainly seem, sincere spokesmen, it now describes an ideological movement which is not content with merely apologizing for its existence and practices but has set out to create a “Weltanschauung” of its own, justifying its own lifestyle and openly challenging what it has labelled as the “rightist camp.”
Impatience with Orthodoxy
IN FACT, one can hardly help noticing a disturbing tendency on the part of the intellectuals of the new Orthodox left to espouse intense militancy and at times a reckless impatience with the present state of Orthodoxy. There is, surprisingly, the use of quite unintellectual language and a disconcerting disregard for the respect due to Torah authorities. “Rightist” and “extremist” are two of the milder adjectives which are used quite regularly to describe the position of the Torah world. Those who have not seen the light are branded as “obscurantists,” “fanatics” and “unreconstructed fundamentalists.” We are told of “McCarthyism in Jewish Orthodoxy” and of the “sordid situation that prevails in the rightists’ camp.” In a particularly hyperbolic lack of discretion, one of the most distinguished and outspoken spokesman of Modern Orthodoxy, Rabbi Emanuel Rackman, writes in an article, “A Challenge to Orthodoxy” (Judaism, Spring 1969), in which most of the other above-mentioned expressions are found, “the time is ripe for ... a challenge for those whose principal claim to authority is that they have a closed mind and secure their leadership by exacting a comparable myopia from their followers.”
It would serve no good purpose to catalog here all of the indignities to which the Torah world, and the Gedolei Torah who are its leaders, have been subjected in articles published recently in a variety of popular magazines and scholarly journals – all in the name of Orthodoxy and Tradition! Suffice it to say, that in certain circles, open season has been declared on the Yeshiva and Chassidic worlds and their leaders. The total effect is unfortunately paradoxical. On the one hand, we hear pious pleadings for open-mindedness and tolerance toward the “other branches” of Judaism and the non-committed, while, on the other hand, a policy of deprecation and even defamation is pursued in relation to the intensely committed Torah world. It is very revealing when “a journal of Orthodox Jewish thought” can permit the caricaturing of Gedolei Torah as “piety locomotives” whose “pronouncements and anathemas, while undoubtedly well-intentioned, are chimney blasts that are sometimes worthy but often only blacken the sky and obstruct the view” (Rabbi Maurice Lamm, “Escalating the Wars of the L-rd” Tradition, Spring-Summer 1967).
Yet let us not make the mistake of being drawn into an emotionally charged polemic, but rather try to understand what the ideologists and the publicists of the new Orthodox left are trying to say. Let us examine it in the light of Torah, as conveyed to us by our teachers – by the Gedolei Torah of past generations and of our own times – and then let us formulate our response, clearly, firmly, and with dignity.
I. POINTS OF CHALLENGE
What are the points of challenge raised by Modern Orthodoxy? Here again I would like to stress that “the movement” has no clearly defined ideology and policy. Its exponents are not banded together in any formal organization. As individuals, they are not responsible for each other’s opinions. To hold them all responsible for the opinions – or practices – of anyone would be grossly unfair. In the words of Rabbi Rackman, “one can hardly regard Modern Orthodoxy as a movement. It is no more than a coterie of a score of Rabbis in America and in Israel whose interpretation of the tradition has won the approval of Orthodox intellectuals who are knowledgeable both in Judaism and Western Civilization.” There are widely varying shades of opinions and observance among those who consider themselves in this school. In fact, one might speak of rightist and leftists within it. At one end of the ideological spectrum the “modernistic” trend is but in an embryonic state an intellectual stirring, while on the other end concrete policies and substantive changes in lifestyle are the result of the new Modernism: A man like Rabbi Rackman represents what one might call the left wing of Modern Orthodoxy, while Rabbi Norman Lamm, for instance would stand very much on the right.
Yet there is definitely a pattern of thought and practice which has emerged from those who would refer to themselves as Modern Orthodox – with or without the capitals. The points of challenge, I believe, fall under five headings:
1. Halacha – there are ever recurring references to “the halachic freeze” and calls for “a more viable halacha.”
2. Emuno – An effort to reduce what are referred to as “dogmas” and to question some of the most fundamental traditionally accepted beliefs.
3. Emunas Chachomim – an unlimited questioning of the authority of our sages, under the guise of scientific research and intellectual candor, coupled with a patent lack of respect for the opinions and authority of Gedolei Torah of past and present.
4. Collaboration with Conservatism and Reform – the problem of the Synagogue Council, New York Board of Rabbis, and similar organizations, an old and serious one, which has not been alleviated; individual participation in private and public dialogues with Reform and Conservative theologians is on the increase.
5. Practical Disregard for the Halacha – mainly in the area of synagogue services, already referred to above.
The last two points have been sources of contention over the past two decades and much has been said and written about them. Yet they have been given their justification, such as it is, by the first three points, which have emerged in their full clarity more recently and have not been dealt with in a systematic fashion. I believe that they are all aspects of one basic attitude on the part of Modem Orthodoxy. Let us consider them point by point.
II. HALACHA [1]
The underlying philosophy of Rabbi Rackman and others who have written on this subject [2] is that the halacha has been “frozen.” They maintain that contrary to the true “spirit of the halacha,” all adaptation and reform has been suppressed even though change is “within the Halachic frame and by its own methodology” (Rackman). The Orthodox Jew has the right to “actively propagate changes in the law.” “One cannot be regarded as a heretic because of one’s dissatisfaction with the present state of the halacha with regard to economic matters, and one’s determination to effect change and development”; “a devotee of the halacha ... need not feel impotent to propose and press. . . for the adaptation of a new criminal law for a modern state ...”; “In family law ... one can propose and agitate for changes that will nullify about every rule of the past.” In all these areas, Rabbi Rackman bases himself upon the prerogatives of a Bes Din – to expropriate property, to render punishment “shelo min hadin,” and to act on the fact that all marriages are contracted “adata de Rabanan,” subject to the Rabbis’ consent.
A New Way of Affecting Halachic Change
WHETHER RABBI RACKMAN is correct in his view of the powers of Bes Din in our days is a question I will discuss later. This, however, is certain: he seeks to manipulate and stretch them in order to achieve a process of Halachic change which – all disclaimers to the contrary – is completely foreign to halacha. In the first place, there has never been a situation wherein halacha was determined by a process of lobbying. Such changes as the Halachic process permits – ordinances of the Sages, or any nullification or modification of previously accepted practice – were arrived at through the mature and judicious deliberations of the properly constituted Bes Din. These deliberations were governed by such considerations as the authority of the Bes Din itself (as Rambam points out, no Bes Din in post Talmudic times has the authority to issue ordinances for all of Klall Yisroel) and the procedures provided by the halacha itself for determining the law in a given situation. Popular magazines and lecture podiums are not the place for proposing halachic procedures; nor are Orthodox intellectuals per se invested with the powers of a Bes Din.
The suggestion that “one may propagate the minority point of view in the hope that it will one day be accepted by a new Sanhedrin” is, at best, a naive superimposing of non-Jewish political categories on the inviolate tradition of Torah law. At worst, it is an attempt to undermine the authority and the respect due to Gedolei Hatorah and the accepted halacha as it has been passed down to us in an unbroken line of sages from the time of Kabolas HaTorah. Those agitating for the thaw of the “halachic freeze” are men quite familiar with the realities of the Sanhedrin problem and the insurmountable obstacles in the way of reinstituting a Sanhedrin. What point, then, in lobbying for such a development? Could it be that what is really wanted is a reassessment of our general approach toward halacha and a readiness on the part of the Rabbis to act boldly and collectively on it now?
Actually, Rabbi Rackman is quite explicit. He does not agree that the Torah, through its halachic dictates, lays down a single norm to which we are committed and which it is merely our duty to determine and apply. To him, the various provisions of the Halacha express different purposes and ends sought by the Torah, antinomies inherent in the Torah’s teachings; as a result, halachic decisions must represent a “balancing of the conflicting values and interests which the law seeks to advance.” It is our duty, according to him, to find out which values the Torah propounds and to determine halacha in every case on the basis of whichever particular value seems to us paramount. For instance, “which is the more important halachic end to be pursued in the present situation – the preservation of an ideological commitment to family holiness which concerns only a few who will not be affected by liberalism in the annulment of marriages, or to prevent the greater incidence of bastardy against which there can be no real protection in so mobile and fluid a society as ours is now?”
The Halachic Process – a Philosophical Exercise
THE DANGEROUS and even ludicrous results of turning the halachic process into a philosophic exercise, particularly when accompanied by crude misunderstandings of the halachic material, are glaringly illustrated in Rabbi Rackman’s previously mentioned article in the New York University Law Review where he applies his reasoning to such an issue as euthanasia:
“For the law to relieve men of all crucial moral decisions is to deny them that spiritual autonomy which is of the essence of their moral and religious experience. Confronted by a suffering fellow man, the doctor must make decisions, or the members of the family must make them. And they must steer a course between two antinomies – the inviolability of the right to life and the command to mitigate suffering. Whatever the decision, there will be no punishment by human tribunals according to Judaism. Mercy killing will not be murder.”
This statement of Jewish law is both wrong and dangerous – and so is the entire approach. To the Torah Jew throughout the ages the crucial moral choices have always lain between fulfilling the demands of the halacha or, G-d forbid, not fulfilling them; the halacha has been seen as fixed and unambiguous, itself providing the answer to possibly conflicting demands or to new issues arising. Not so according to Rabbi Rackman: halacha itself is changeable – “observances and mitzvos, ... must be related to ... a set of values in order to be meaningful” – and our task is to find ways to express halachically the values which we decide the Torah wants us to pursue. That is why I spoke before of the manipulation of halachic procedures by Rabbi Rackman – manipulation in the service of the time-bound and subjective ideas held at this or that particular moment in Jewish history.
In fact, there is an insistence that this is the way halacha was always determined (thus, a reviewer of a halachic compendium wrote in Tradition, Summer 1966, that in that work there is “an inadequacy in not using a historical perspective in the evolution of halachic decision… it might be advisable to place individual views in social and political perspective”). And there is an even greater insistence on the need today to reach halachic decisions with an eye upon the social and ethical needs and values inherent in our modern conditions of life. Thus, Dr. Berkovits stresses that “it is possible for Jews to live in accordance with the Shulchan Aruch and yet not have authentic Judaism.” To him, authentic Judaism is one that produces halachic decisions that are “practically feasible, economically viable, ethically significant, spiritually meaningful” – in his judgment. For example, since tolerance and freedom of conscience have become recognized values of human decency, “the claim of what is known as Conservative or Reform Judaism to equality with Orthodoxy in the Jewish state is morally irrefutable”; the halachic principle of darkey shalom requires us “to recognize the right of all branches of Judaism to equality of treatment.”
There is a naive conviction on the part of those who want to “unfreeze halacha” that by hook or crook the “right” liberal solutions can be squeezed out of halacha, and that the Rabbis just don’t understand or care enough to oblige. Dr. Berkovits declares that if we say that there is no halachic solution to the pressing need for autopsies, “then we have confessed that the Torah is not a torat chayim. We may then have formal adherence to the Shulchan Aruch and yet not authentic Judaism.” And so, he laments the “state of inauthenticity in the barren scholarship of most contemporary Halachists” (no wonder according to him, he considers our yeshivos an inauthentic form of Judaism).
When one examines more closely the expressions of dissatisfaction with the present state of halacha and the changes proposed, one can hardly escape the striking similarities between the formulations of the new Orthodox left and those of the architects of modern-day Conservatism [3]. Whether the Modern Orthodox Halachists approve of the outcome of such philosophy as it has developed in the practical observance of halacha in the Conservative movement over the 50 years since Schechter’s death is immaterial. The fact is, however, that this type of “halachic” thinking does not differ from Conservative ideology in kind but only in degree.
Whether these Orthodox thinkers would, today in 5730, go along with the Conservative discontinuance of Yom Tov Sheni is not important. It is quite obvious however that, according to Rabbi Rackman’s “well-known principle that when the reason for the ‘fence’ has disappeared the rule, too, automatically dies[4],” someone advocating this could not be expelled from the Orthodox camp. Given the liberality of these spokesmen, who still consider themselves in the Orthodox fold, it is not too difficult to predict, upon the basis of historical experience, how the thinking of their followers could develop in just a few years.
Doing Violence to Halachic Procedures
IN TRYING to make halacha subservient to ideological presuppositions, violence is of course done to the principles and procedures of halacha. The Torah provides, in certain areas, under specific conditions, for innovation through Rabbinic takonos – a procedure which, since the end of the Sanhedrin and the conclusion of the Talmud (Sof Horo’oh), is no longer available to us on a nationwide general basis but only for very limited local purposes. For the rest, the answers to situations as they arise, must be found in the vigorous logical definition and application of the Torah’s legal categories. There is always a danger of human subjectivity creeping in, but for this very reason we defer to the authority of the Gadol who has attained a deeper identification with Torah. When we try to adapt the law to the times, rather than the times to the law; when, instead of seeking to determine the revealed will of G-d, we try to make the halacha justify our own ideas or say what we want it to say, we no longer work halachically.[5]
A complete article would be necessary to correct the glaring misuses of halachic generalities by some of the Modern Orthodox writers. For instance, Rabbi Rackman’s suggestion that the competence of a Bes Din to inflict any punishment as a temporary means of protecting the Torah (Horoas Sho’oh) could at all be interpreted as an open-ended prerogative to set up a new permanent code of criminal law for a state “committed to the halacha” is an amazing one. The talk of “reintroducing the annulment of Jewish marriages” and the suggestion of “the abolition of the last vestige of illegitimacy” is, to say the very least, irresponsible. When was there ever a practice of annulment of Jewish marriages other than through “Mi’un,” which only applied to certain female minors whose marriages did not have the status of “Kidushin Min Hatorah?” What sort of changes in modern technology and society could ever motivate any Bes Din, no matter how properly constituted, to legitimize Mamzerim even if there were some “Halachic Methodology” to do so? Is illegitimacy any more repugnant now than it was in the time of the Sages?
When one peruses the writings of Modern Orthodox ideologists (and by the way, those of Solomon Schechter), one notes that “Tradition” is an all-important term. Yet, when we hear suggestions that “one can propose and agitate for changes that will nullify almost every rule of the past,” one must come to the conclusion that the word Tradition is a cynical misnomer. Tradition, derived from the Latin tradere, in Hebrew, Mesora, denotes a handing over from one to another (Compare Baba Metziah 8b). Tradition is only meaningful when those who preach it honor the commitments of the past. Nor does this mean only the ancient past of the Talmud and Rishonim. The exponent of tradition must himself be a living link in the divine chain of Mesora, who continues this chain by passing on to his spiritual heirs the wisdom of the Gedolim of his own and of the immediately preceding generation. When one declares their ways to be fundamentally mistaken and makes every effort to create the image of a new tradition, a modern tradition, then he indulges in semantic legerdemain.
Paying Lip service to Tradition
THE RAMBAM, in the foreword to his monumental work, the Mishne Torah, takes great pain to list in exact detail the chain of the receivers of the Torah tradition from Moshe to the close of the Talmud and then in a more general manner, to his own day. For any individual or group of individuals, to sit down today and pick and choose which Halochos of the Talmud and Poskim suit their taste, and which should be subject to change is not tradition, but a mockery of tradition. The supreme arrogance is of course their equation of those who promote change in our day with the sages of the Talmud. If Hillel could institute the Pruzbul, reasons Rabbi Rackman, does this not “represent something other than slavish commitment by the Rabbis to forms and texts instead of ends?” The obvious conclusion is then drawn that “halachic creativity” cannot be “restricted to the reconciling of texts” nor should it be “altogether dependent upon the existence of a Sanhedrin.” In short, changes must be made here and now – and by whom?
This is not the place to enter into a discussion of the halachic principles of Hillel’s Takono which, studied through the eyes of the Talmudic scholar, and not of the political scientist, will be seen in its true light decidedly not the supra-legal innovation of a teleologically oriented legislator. There is, however, one striking fact about the history of the Pruzbul which its devotees are either unaware of or have chosen to ignore. There were later authorities – no lesser a halachic personage than the Amora Shmuel – who would have liked to do away with the Pruzbul (see Gittin 36a). Shmuel declared: “If I had the power, I would nullify it.” The Gemoro then explains that Shmuel meant, “if I had more authority than Hillel, I would nullify it.” As it turned out, Shmuel, who was one of the supreme authorities on Civil Law in the Talmud, could not nullify the Pruzbul because “a Bes Din cannot nullify the enactments of another Bes Din, unless it is greater in wisdom and in numbers,” – and this before the end of the Talmudic era, the Sof Hahoro’oh mentioned above! Had the exponents of teleological halacha been sitting in Shmuel’s place they would have had no such problem.
Thus, the supreme irony is that the history of the very takono so much relied on by the historical school of halacha turns out completely to refute its basic premise. There can be no doubt that if Shmuel made such a bold statement concerning the Pruzbul he must have had good and sufficient reasons to nullify it in his own time. Yet the inviolate principles of legitimate halachic procedure stood in his way. Shmuel realized who Hillel was and who he was. He did not assume unto himself the mantle of the immortal Hillel – and the Pruzbul stood, as it stands to this day.
Bluntly spoken, the Torah is not Hefker! Halacha is not up for grabs. If intellectuals in the latter part of the twentieth century do not find time – hallowed halochos to their liking, we shall not therefore prostrate ourselves before them. We shall not give up the wisdom of eternity for the ephemeral whims of a civilization which has in our lifetime demonstrated that its saving graces could not prevent an Auschwitz or a Treblinka.
III. EMUNO
The thrust of the western academic world in modern times has most obviously been away from faith and toward materialism and agnosticism. The rejection of doctrines based on faith and tradition and the refusal to accept the validity of anything, but observable facts have become, in themselves, articles of faith to the modern scholar. This naturally has created an uncomfortable situation for men of religion who have a commitment to some form of faith yet, sharing the intellectual outlook of the contemporary world, are less than sure that one can, or ought to, believe in anything.
On the non-Jewish scene this has led to a trend of “reductionism” in religious doctrine and, lately, the emergence of “new theologies” which, in essence, are non-theologies. Among Jews, the non-Orthodox theologians, true to their tradition, have hastened to follow the example set by their Christian (or neo-Christian) brethren. This, indeed, is not new. The last few years have, however, brought a new threat – the tendency on the part of Modern Orthodox theologians to follow suit by reducing the minimum standards of what a Jew must believe in order not to be labelled a “heretic” (Rabbi Rackman’s term). This appears conspicuously to be an effort to make non committed or estranged intellectuals feel more at home in Orthodox Judaism. Yet one can hardly escape the nagging suspicion that the intellectuals whose doubts they are seeking to legitimize may be themselves.
In an article on “Ferment in Orthodoxy” (Hadassah Magazine, June 1966) Rabbi Rackman speaks of the critics of the Orthodox establishment, with whom lies his identification and sympathies, as “open-minded and rarely dogmatic”; “because they are modern and western in outlook, they are not as dogmatic or authoritarian in their contributions to Jewish thought… Indeed, they are distressed that we are not sufficiently aware of the damage we do to the psyches of children even in the day schools when, in Jewish studies, our teachers are dogmatic and authoritarian, while in general studies teachers stress the need for the open mind, the open society, and a modicum of relativism in every quest. How does one achieve a happy balance...?” He answers this question himself in his reply to Commentary’s survey of Jewish belief (August 1966): “I do teach that Judaism encourages doubt even as it enjoins faith and commitment. A Jew dare not live with absolute certainty...” – rather a strange view considering that our people earned its patrimony by unquestionably proclaiming “Na’aseh venishmah,” and has gone through the ages declaring at the very threshold of death that it holds its principles of belief “be’emunoh shelemoh,” with perfect faith.
Rabbi Rackman indicatively launches his discussion of this subject by stating that “even with regard to doctrine such a divergence of opinion has prevailed among the giants of Tradition that only one dogma enjoys universal acceptance: the Pentateuch’s text was given to the Jewish people by G-d” (my italics). Pointing out that there have been disputes in theological matters, he asks quite poignantly: “How can one brand as a heretic anyone who in matters theological differs with his contemporaries and seeks to make normative a point of view once rejected or proscribed ...?”
He then proceeds to touch on a few points of faith as illustrations of what he is talking about. There would be no great problem were he to limit the discussion to citing, as he does, an ‘obscure note of one of the later Achronim concerning transmigration of souls, or to the inane observation that the Talmud “suggests” that perhaps David did not write all the Psalms. (Anyone who reads Tehillim knows that David did not write them all.) He goes far beyond this though. Thus, be makes the unpardonable error of construing a division of opinion between the Rambam and the Ravad concerning the incorporeality of G-d, where there really existed none (the Ravad merely declared that many great people were led astray by their false reading of scripture and midrashim into believing that G-d had material attributes – he himself did not subscribe to this).
He asks: “Is it wise to add dogmas that the books of the Prophets and the Writings were all authored by men to whom Tradition attributes them?” and goes on to imply that one must not be shocked when it is opined that there may have been two or three prophets bearing the name of Isaiah. “No Sage of the past,” he writes, “ever included in the articles of faith a dogma about the authorship of the books of the Bible other than the Pentateuch.”
What Does a Jew Have to Believe?
And here lies the fallacy of the whole argument. There is a confusion between “an article of faith – an lkar – and what a Jew should believe. For Rackman, if it is not an “lkar,” you do not have to believe it. He and others of the Modern Orthodox school (assuredly not all) fail to appreciate the distinction between what the Rambam counts as an Ikar and what, although not an Ikar, is nevertheless a revealed and accepted truth. For us, every letter of the Torah is sacred and incontrovertible, yet not every sentence of the Torah is classified as one of the 613 Mitzvos. Likewise, the statements of Chazal, as recorded in the Talmud, and understood and taught to us by the Gaonim, Gedolei Harishonim, and Poskim, are true and incontrovertible. The fact that the Rambam or any other Rishon does not count a particular truth as a “principle of faith” does not mean that it is not true, or that it is open for every self-styled philosopher to accept or reject. Just as in the realm of halacha, the correct and definitive p’sak halacha has been decided by the majority of the sages of Israel and been passed on in an unbroken chain of Mesora, so too, have these matters been settled long ago. For Jews the world over, the Rambam’s thirteen principles are halacha p’suka – and what is more, they are not all there is of truth. Every word of Tanach is sacred and inviolate. Every saying of our sages is for us binding in accordance with the rules for determining halacha which we have received. Whoever denies the competence of Chazal to render the correct determination in any area of Torah may or may not be a “heretic” (I cannot define that term). He is, however, whether he wants to be so called or not, an Apikores – and, as Reb Chaim Brisker zt”l once said, “He who is nebich an Apikores is also an Apikores.”
And this brings us to our final and most crucial point:
IV. EMUNAS CHACHOMIM
In raising the question of the authorship of biblical books, for instance, and the binding character of Rabbinic statements – and likewise in the demand for a changed approach to the determination of halacha spokesmen for Modern Orthodoxy really manifest an attitude toward Rabbinic authority and tradition that touches the very roots of Torah. Since the time of Korach and his associates – great men, as our Rabbis tell us, but fatally wrong – there have been movements in Judaism that rebelled against the true Torah authorities while claiming to be loyal to tradition. When Korach challenged Moshe Rabbenu, the prototype of all Torah leaders, “The entire congregation is holy – why, then, do you set yourselves above the people of G-d?” he did not flout “tradition”; indeed, his claim was that all had heard the Divine voice on Mount Sinai. What he sought was to undermine the authority of Moshe as the final arbiter of the written and oral law.
Even Yerovom Ben Nevot, who instituted two golden calves, one in Dan and one in Bais El, chose this form of idolatry because it was in the “tradition” of Aaron HaKohen, who had made the golden calf in Moshe’s absence. He declared, “These are your gods, O Israel which brought you up from the land of Egypt” (M’lochim I 12:28: see Radak), just as Aaron had proclaimed. How else could he have seduced to idolatry a community which had been ruled by King Solomon and was only one generation removed from King David?
The Saducees also accepted the Torah – the written Torah. They were, they claimed, “in the tradition.” Their only quarrel was with the Rabbis. “Those Rabbis” had saddled the Jewish people with an unbearable burden. And what of the Karaites? And the first Reformers, and the founders of the Conservative movement? All, all in the Tradition. “The Rabbis” had distorted the tradition. Yet, for them, the tradition somehow became so elastic, that it lost all form and substance and became nothing more than an object of nostalgia. And one by one these movements fell off as severed limbs from the Tree of Life. Is the same ugly spectre again beginning to rear its head within our midst?
“True a pious man has emunat hakhamim, faith in the dicta of the Sages. Yet, Orthodox Jews do not rely on this principle in connection with their physical well-being. They are willing to be treated in illness by physicians who hold views that differ radically from those expressed in the Talmud for the treatment of the disease. Certainly, the Tradition condones this. Is it less forgiving of one who in his study of the Bible feels impelled to arrive at conclusions on the basis of evidence unavailable to his forbears?” The competent Talmudic scholar is really taken aback at this comparison of the Sages’ statements on the authorship of the Books of the Bible and the “remedies” mentioned in the Talmud which, far from being obligatory, not representing Halachos p’sukos, have not been used because of the good and adequate reasons given by the poskim, above all because their exact meaning is not clear (see Ramchal, Ma’amar al Hahagaodos).
Surely, if we cannot accept the word of the Mesora on so basic a subject as the authorship of Tanach, then on what can we? If in this basic non-scientific, non-technological area modern archaeology and bible criticism are capable of superseding the Mesora of Chazal (who, it would be presumed, were misled somewhere along the line) what then prevents us from assuming they were not misled on the authorship of the Pentateuch which Rabbi Rackman is not willing to question? Charles Liebman, another Modern Orthodox writer, on the other hand, is not so squeamish and raises the question, albeit theoretically in an article of his: “What if we were to find a text, etc ....” The answer, of course, is that it would be the theories and procedures of the archaeologists and historians that would require revaluation, and not the Torah teachings with which they clashed.
Emunas Chachomim as a Prerequisite to Torah Understanding
ACTUALLY, THERE is more involved here than just the historical reliability of the Rabbinic traditions, as against the uncertainties and built-in preconceptions of modern scholarly theories. The human, subjective component in these theories merely illustrates the point upon which Emunas Chachomim is built: the need to accept our human limitations – the subversion of our intellectual clarity by our desires and drives – and to realize that absolute, objective truth can be ours only insofar as, and to the degree that, we can lose ourselves in G-d’s teachings. The Godol Batorah, therefore, who totally lives Torah, is our conduit to G-d’s truth, and we are enjoined: ‘Thou shalt fear the L-rd, thy G-d’ – that includes the sages.”
In contrast, when one’s “commitment involves so much autonomy of the soul” (Rabbi Rackman’s phrase), a person’s own insight becomes supreme. Tradition presents halachic demands; but he assumes the right to pass on them as to their meaningfulness. Tradition delineates the dimensions of our belief; but he feels competent to pick and choose. This is a sad situation – but it reaches tragic proportions when he proclaims his insights as the true tradition, and the legacy of the ages and its guardians, the Rabbis, as inauthentic.
The final audacity of spokesmen and ideologists for Modern Orthodoxy has been this very step: they have placed our Gedolei Hatorah out of the line of tradition, declaring that they are not aware of its true spirit and have arrested and frozen its development. To the extent to which such an attitude rules it leaves both Halacha and Emuno at the mercy of every would-be authority. Hence, perhaps, the decisiveness with which the Talmud passes judgment on whoever does not accept the authority of the Rabbis and shows disrespect for them (Sanhedrin 99b-100a). This should be well-understood and remembered before a man writes of the Godol Hador as “the Dean of the rightists,” as Rabbi Rackman did, and regrets the undue reliance on “so-called Gedolim.” Emunas Chachomim requires respect for, and acceptance of the authority of, present-day Gedolim, not only of those of the past with whose opinions one happens to agree.
V. THE SOURCE – “WELTANSCHAUUNG”
How did Modern Orthodoxy come to this pass? The three points of challenge which we discussed, all stem from one basic premise held by its ideologists that there is an all-encompassing worldview, “Weltanschauung,” to be formulated by and for the Modern Jew, which is based on his equally firm commitment to Torah on the one hand, and to the values of World Culture on the other.
This view is stated succinctly by Rabbi Norman Lamm, who speaks of “our religious duty, our sacred responsibility to live the whole Torah tradition in the world instead of retreating from [the] world ...” (emphasis his). He calls on the intellectual leadership “to formulate the world view of ‘Modern Orthodoxy’ in a manner that is halachically legitimate, philosophically persuasive, religiously inspiring.” “We must resolve the central dilemma of the tension between our ‘two worlds...’ We must, in terms of our own tradition, formulate the method whereby we can afford religious significance to the ‘other’ – the so called profane modern-world.”
This basic premise of accepting aspects of world culture outside of Torah and then proceeding to synthesize them with Torah hashkofo is at the root of all departures from accepted Torah norms. The degree of departure naturally depends on the extent to which the individuals involved are committed to their extra Torah values. Having attuned their minds to non-Jewish categories of thought, and/or their lives to non-Jewish lifestyles, they come back to Judaism with the notion that Torah has some sort of obligation to reinterpret itself for every generation including their own. Modern Orthodoxy in its search for a new Torah ideology, is the product of such a cultural ambivalence – the result of the ongoing pursuit of that elusive pot of gold called “synthesis” which, it is believed, will be found at the end of the intellectual rainbow. The search, of course, is a futile one. For modern culture will never stand still long enough to have its picture taken. I am afraid that the “intellectual leadership” whom Rabbi Lamm exhorts to undertake the task of formulating the new Weltanschauung will not be able to work as fast as civilization runs through its dizzying metamorphoses. It is somewhat like engineering an expressway for a large metropolitan city. By the time the engineers get the thing off the drawing boards the roadway is already obsolete.
Actually, the very concept of a synthesis of Western culture and Torah is a contradiction. By definition, Torah is the perfect will of G-d: Toras Hashem Temima. To suggest that by itself it is incapable of guiding man on his proper course in life, and that something must be added to make it perfect is a negation of Torah. Those who base this type of philosophy on Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch completely misread him. Hirsch took no lesser a person than the Rambam himself to task for what he considered a similar distortion of true Torah:
“He sought to reconcile Judaism with the difficulties which confronted it from without, instead of developing it creatively from within .... He entered into Judaism from without, bringing with him opinions of whose truth he had convinced himself from extraneous sources and – he reconciled” (Nineteen Letters of Ben Uziel, Eighteenth letter).
Naturally, we are not obliged to accept Hirsch’s evaluation of the Rambam. But his remarks make it clear that, his concept of Torah im Derech Eretz had not the slightest resemblance to Norman Lamm’s dream of reconciling “the polarities of physicality and spirituality, of the sacred and the profane, even of faith and doubt as part of cosmic unity.” It did not mean that secular studies were in any sense on a par with Torah nor that their insights were valid in formulating Torah hashkofo.
Of course, in all generations Gedolei Yisroel have made Torah effective in meeting new situations which arose. But they did not change nor reinterpret it. New vehicles for Torah dissemination and new ways of communicating may have been developed. Certain aspects of Torah may have been given additional emphasis but the Torah itself did not change. We may have acquired new barrels, but the wine was old wine.
Thus, Rabbi Yehoshua ben Gamla (Baba Basra 21a) removed the learning of Torah from the private sphere of father and son and institutionalized it in public Botei Sefer. The transition from Hebrew to Aramaic; the use of Arabic by Gedolei Yisroel such as the Chovos Halevovos and the Rambam; the rise of so-called Jewish philosophy – Rav Sadya Gaon, the Rambam, R. Yehuda Halevi; the Codification of Halacha – the Rif, the Rambam, the Shulchan Aruch; the reinstitution of yeshivas in modern times, starting with Volozin; the rise of Chassidus, or the stress on Mussar; the use of newspapers and journals as a means of disseminating Torah teachings – all of these represented new ways of communicating the teachings of the Torah. Agudas Yisroel itself was created as a new means of Torah communication. To use a modern simile, the change has been in the packaging, not in the product.
We have always built our future on the solid foundations of the past. Never has there been a suggestion that ours was “a new and improved product.” We have never intimated that previous generations in their understanding of Torah have been somehow on the wrong track – naive or misinformed – and that they would have thought or acted differently had they had the benefit of our advanced knowledge. If one seeks to be creative in Halacha or in Hashkofo, not in line with what has been passed on by previous generations, then tradition ceases to be that tradition.
VI. CONCLUSION: WHAT SHOULD OUR RESPONSE BE?
Modern Orthodoxy cannot simply be written off and ignored, even though we may not feel like descending into the arena with it. To ignore it would mean losing by default broad masses of our brethren with strong ties to Torah. Nor will any purpose be served by emotional attacks and an outpouring of scorn and ridicule, even though some of the pronouncements we hear might justly warrant such treatment. It could only have the effect of further widening a gap that should rather be narrowed – after all, we are speaking of people, leaders and followers, with a dedication to Yiddishkeit and. on many basic issues, still very much within the fold. Even those whose opinions are furthest afield have not taken the final step out. Yet react we must – the entire purpose of this article has been to show how serious a danger the misguided ideas and policies of Modern Orthodoxy represent. I would suggest the following responses:
• First and foremost, we must strengthen Limud HaTorah. The only possible way of preventing the intentional or unintentional falsification of Torah is by our own intense and dedicated study of Torah – at all age levels. Our sages have given us this formula:
“Be diligent in the study of Torah and you will know what to answer the skeptic” (Avoth). If all Jews applied themselves to the study of Torah, new ideologies of Torah would be unnecessary. The Torah can speak for itself.
• We must develop and strengthen our own means of communication. The Jewish Observer and Dos Yiddishe Vort represent an excellent start. Their scope must be broadened. Some means must be found to encourage the emergence of Torah-oriented writings that will convey the true picture of our Mesora. We must encourage young men and women who are totally committed to the Mesora, to communicate with our fellow Jews. Let us show that communication does not mean capitulation. We may not be able to adopt attitudes championed by others – but we can use their idiom. We may not be able to think as they do – but we can use their language.
• Let us direct a plea to the many gifted and sincere people in the ranks of Modern Orthodoxy: do not create a new schism in Jewry, do not drive a wedge between yourselves and the Torah world, do not adopt a world view which would put the Chofetz Chaim out of the mainstream of Tradition. The lesson of history is clear: those who separated themselves from the Gedolei Yisroel, and challenged and usurped their halachic authority, in the end severed themselves from the main body of the Jewish people.
• And this, too, we have to ask: learn from Chazal and be careful with your words. I refer to the indignities visited upon our leaders – nobody can gain from that. But I also refer to the way in which new ideas are launched and propagated. Many of the most radical statements of Modern Orthodox spokesmen, I suspect, sound more sweeping than they are meant, or are couched in such vague terms that they permit all sorts of interpretations – hence all the pained protestations and disavowals when issue is taken with them (I refer for instance, to the statements by Rabbi Irving Greenberg, and Rabbi Aaron Lichtenstein’s comments on them in the Y.U. college undergraduate newspaper Commentator, in 1966). Such disavowals do not undo the harm done.
• To all those who consider themselves part of Modern Orthodoxy but do not identify with the radical halachic and theological views so frequently expressed and, for instance, traced in this article, we must, finally, address this question: how long can you keep quiet? How long can you share lecture platforms, magazine space, classroom audiences, and organizational ties, without waking up to your responsibility to speak up, to disassociate yourselves from destructive ideas, and – in the process – preventing Modern Orthodoxy from becoming a “fourth branch of Judaism,” G-d forbid?
• Last, not least, let us emulate our father Yaakov. When he was called to go up to Beth El and to build an altar for G-d, he asked his household to remove the strange gods in their possession. The Ramban explains that, halachically, these former idols, taken from Shechem, could be kept for their material value since they had been repudiated by those who had worshipped them – but when the time came to go up to Beth El, Yaakov realized that even a discredited idol would not do. Jn order truly to serve G-d, one must be completely free of alien influences. In our days, too, the Eternal is calling out to the Jewish people, “arise, go up to serve G-d in purity.”
The events in Eretz Yisroel and the world over cry out to us that the time is drawing closer when we will be summoned to serve the L-rd in His sanctuary. Let us rid ourselves of all of these alien gods which even the nations of the world have recognized as worthless. What is there in the modern world that could be used to improve on Torah? The mask has been torn aside and the moral bankruptcy of modern civilization has been laid open for all to see. Let us cast its sordidness aside and reaffirm our faith that “the Torah of G-d is perfect.”
[1] The author would like to express his thanks to Rabbi Joseph Elias for his thoughtful suggestions and contributions to this section of the article.
[2] Rabbi Rackman’s views can be found in the above-mentioned “A Challenge to Orthodoxy” (Judaism, Spring 1969), as well as “The Dialectic of the Halakhah” (Tradition, Spring 1961, “Halachic Progress” (a review essay in Judaism, summer 1964), “Morality in Medico-Legal Problems-A Jewish View” (New York University Law Review, Nov. 1956), and “Sabbath and Festivals in the Modern, Age” (the second in the Y. U. “Studies in Torah Judaism.” series). Dr. Eliezer Berkovits has written “Orthodox Judaism in a World of Revolutionary Transformation” (Tradition, 1965) and a recent essay on “Authentic Judaism and Halakhah” (Judaism, Spring 1970) which was only received after this article was substantially completed. Rabbi Oscar Z. Fasman’s views can be found in (Tradition, Fall l968).
[3] The fact that a law of the Torah imposes hardships upon those who observe it, is ipso facto no reason for its abolition ... Opposition to this Jaw [of Gittin] therefore does not stem from the fact that it imposes hardships on some women, but rather that it violates our elementary sense of justice and decency,” and “the Halacha will have to define an area ... within which it will dispense with the initiative or participation of the husband in the granting of a get ... if it is to remain true to its own declared purposes.” A lengthy halachic analysis convinces the author that “the procedure suggested is altogether within the spirit of the Rabbinic takanot.” These words came from Rabbi S. Greenberg, Vice Chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary (Conservative Judaism, Spring 1970). A review of Dr. Rackman’s writings, “The New Halacha” by Rabbi Joseph Elias (Jewish Observer, June 1964) traced the similarities in detail.
[4] One cannot let this particular misleading piece of misinformation pass without comment. Although there are isolated instances where it would seem that a Takono became automatically invalid because the reason disappeared (see Tosfos, Beiza 6), actually even these cases only appear so (Groh, Yoreh Deoh 116, 1). The general rule is simply as stated in Rambam: “Even though the reason for which the earlier sages had made the decree has disappeared the later sages cannot nullify the decree unless they are greater than the earlier ones.” Even the Ravad who disagrees with this ruling of the Rambam, only maintains that the later Bes Din need not be greater. But that a Bes Din is required is not at all a point of disagreement. As Rabbi Leib Ettlinger correctly points out (Shomer Zion Hane’emon 12), there really is no practical differences as far as we are concerned, between different opinions of the Rishonim on this general question, since the Bes Din referred to, as is obvious from the Rambam, is a Sanhedrin of seventy-one which alone has the power to change any Takonos which were made by a previous Sanhedrin.
[5] For a full discussion of the halachic change see the articles of Rabbi S. Danziger in the Jewish Observer (October and December 1966).
