Modern Orthodoxy

WHEN I was in college at Yeshiva University, often some of my peers and I would stay up late into the night having fiercely animated, informal discussions about Torah and theology. Being at an institution titled both Yeshiva and University, our discussions tended to be mostly about defining modern Orthodox Judaism through the prism of previous halachic literature, current social and religious norms, and religious worship of  G-d. We were trying to understand what exactly it meant in the world, and more specifically, to us.

Then, about ten years out of college, I was a participant in a fellowship for Jewish education. Although not formally branded so, nor officially affiliated with a modern Orthodox institution, for the most part modern Orthodoxy was the guiding light of the fellowship, as well as of its founders and  lecturers. Laced within much of the superb Jewish educational programming was discussion about modern Orthodoxy. It was a subtext of  the more formal Jewish educational programming because the whole point of the fellowship was to create, invigorate and strengthen modern Orthodox education.

Many of those discussions were sophisticated and fascinating. The quality of conversation was amazing because of the quality of the participants.

We discussed everything from how to convey and teach the personalities of the Hebrew Bible (Tanach) — as fallible or infallible — to what kind of religious model is ideal for a teacher to set for the students. Should the teacher share personal struggles in the service of G-d, or convey the more flawless model of perfect faith? You get the idea. There were loads more topics in between these two — the fellowship was for two years!

And the discussions were complex and nuanced. Many of our discussions took the form of electronic letters mailed out to one another on a specific topic, which we then analyzed together upon meeting for a formal fellowship seminar.

I loved it. But then I reached a certain point, where, as interesting and meaningful as it all was, I kind of outgrew the whole “what is modern Orthodoxy” discussion.

First of all, I’m not classically modern Orthodox. I am more of a composite of various streams of Yiddishkeit/Orthodoxy than someone who fits into one specific category.

And as Orthodox as I am, I like to think of myself as just a Jewish person who serves G-d. No definitions.

BUT then recently, the whole “Who is and What is Modern Orthodoxy” discussion was rekindled. It started with an article written by a Rabbi Yosef Kanefsky advocating a change in the morning prayer blessing by men, “shelo asani isha, for He has not made me a woman,” to be changed or replaced with “she-asani yehudi, Who hath made me a Jew.”

In response, Rabbi Yitzchok Adlerstein of Los Angeles authored an article in Ami Magazine, “Modern Orthodoxy at a Crossroads,” in which he advocated that mainstream modern Orthodoxy formally draw a line in the sand and throw out the far left of modern Orthodoxy and its institutions from Orthodoxy.

IN response to Rabbi Adlerstein, on his blog Cross Currents, Rabbi Michael Broyde of Atlanta wrote an academic, eloquent and gracious essay, “Modern Orthodoxy is Always at a Crossroad,” defining modern Orthodoxy in today’s day and age.

Rabbi Broyde’s message  was, “until the establishment of a Sanhedrin, we need to achieve unity and not conformity, enabling a reality of diversity without divisiveness.”

Rabbi Broyde advocates for the far left Orthodox to still be invited and be a part of the dialogue and community within the Orthodox tent.

In response to Rabbi Broyde came Rabbi Steven Pruzansky, a modern Orthodox rabbi in Teaneck, with “Modern Orthodoxy is in the Crosshairs.” He refined a point about modern Orthodoxy in Rabbi Broyde’s article.

Finally, also on Cross Currents, Rabbi Dovid Goldman rebutted Rabbi Broyde and, coming full circle, although from a different angle, returned to Rabbi Adlerstein’s perspective on modern Orthodoxy, in his article, “Defining Modern Orthodoxy’s Crossroads.”

I HAVE been following this rich, quality and respectful dialogue since October with interest. So I suppose I haven’t totally outgrown this discussion after all.

My initial reaction was disagreement with Rabbi Adlerstein’s article. There are always theological extremists in any community. (The same could be said for the right wing of Orthodoxy.) Even if the extremists are wrong, there is a big leap from being wrong and from being called on to be cut out of and expelled from a community. I just don’t believe in that, and almost always I don’t think it is necessary.

Excommunication is one of the most serious and grave things to inflict on someone personally, or collectively on a community. I think some pretty serious lines would have to be crossed for that to happen.

Also, I think different sides pushing an envelope, as long as it is not harming anyone or fundamentally deviating from core beliefs, can sometimes be healthy. It helps stabilize a healthy balanced center, and that could be a good thing.

But more than that, this whole constant defining who is in and out, looking at other people’s observance putting it up to judgement — I’m just not comfortable with that. I feel like we are all one people, one family.

We are all in this Judaism thing together, no matter where we are on the spectrum. I do believe in living an observant Jewish life of tradition as the right path, and certainly as the way for ensuring the continuity of the Jewish people. But I don’t see that as negating all of us being part of one tent, without drawing lines of who is in or out of the tent.

Of course, I understand that in order to maintain the halachic process and the mantle of Jewish tradition, it is more complex than just saying, “we are all one family, why can’t we all just get along?”

BUT then, amidst following these fascinating exchanges between all these rabbis, I randomly picked up a book, Flags over the Warsaw Ghetto, by Moshe Arens.

This book attempts to set the historical record straight about the Warsaw Ghetto uprising.

It is a fascinating book, albeit an extremely extremely painful one to read.

The book attempts to reconstruct life in the ghetto leading up to the uprising , as well as of the uprising itself.

There was not one resistance group who fought the Nazis in the uprising, but two. Most of us know of just the one group, the ZOB, Zydowska Organizacja Bojowa, the Jewish Fighting Organization, led by Mordechai Anielewicz. He and his comrades have always formed the core of the story we were taught about that famous, heroic uprising.

But it turns out there were two groups, the other being the ZZW, Zydowskie Zwiazek Wojskowi, the Jewish Military Organization, led by Pawel Frenkel.

The ZOB was made up of mostly socialist Zionist youth groups and organizations in Europe, plus the Bund, the Jewish Socialist anti-Zionist movement in Poland and Lithuania.

The ZZW was made up of the Revisionists, the followers of Zev Jabotinsky (and, toward the end, religious Jews joined the ZZW as well).

The theological rivalry between these two groups ran deep. So deep, in fact, that even in the face of the demonic Nazis, even after the liquidation of 270,000 Jews, deported from the Warsaw Ghetto to Treblinka, these two groups couldn’t put their differences aside to join and reconcile, united in strength against the Nazis.

I know it is ridiculous and sensationalist even to bring up this example in the context of discussing definitions of who is or is not modern Orthodox (insert whatever label you want). But the timing — reading this book while I was following the “who is modern Orthodox” discussion — I couldn’t help but connect the two. As legitimate as different groups’ points of views might be, that is not what we need to be working on — who is in and who is out.

We are a nation of tribes and we have been plagued by this problem for a long time, even in Nazi Germany.

If you read about the discussions and the political committees formed in the Warsaw Ghetto — and the endless political discussions — it is simply shocking. You the reader realize what is going on and what their fate will be.

Unfortunately, it seems we know how to shut people out all too well. Instead we need to work on finding ways to live with our differences, while still staying true to our beliefs and integrity. To create “unity without uniformity, diversity without divisiveness.”

Copyright © 2011 by the Intermountain Jewish News