Opening Post!

Lately, there's been a lot of discussion in the Orthodox world about "open orthodoxy" or those on the "far left."  Increasingly, many religious leaders are calling for purification within the ranks.  After all, a growing number of Rabbis seem to propose increasingly "radical" changes.  These changes have included the elimination of an actual bracha from the morning prayers (see here), the acceptance of female clergy in Orthodox synagogues, permissive attitudes toward homosexuals (recently culminating in a same gender ceremony performed by a Rabbi with semicha from YU), and a general sense that young modern Rabbis are quickly causing the erosion of the tradition based on transient modern values.  In an important article that elicited strong reaction among all camps, Rabbi Adlerstein opined that Modern Orthodoxy is at a Crossroads, and that it should (in his opinion) eliminate these fringe groups from its midst (see here).

Many important responses followed; most notably, Rabbi Michael Broyde and Rabbi Natan Slifkin.  While his arguments were numerous, Rabbi Broyde essentially argued that the definition of Modern Orthodoxy is that it is always at a Crossroads, as modernity is always changing, and there is a strong religious value in filtering and dealing with modernity (see here).  Rabbi Slifkin responded by noting that other forms of Orthodox Judaism have also transformed themselves when facing modernity (see here).  He argues that the proverbial pot is calling the kettle black.  True.

But the reason for this post, and in some sense, this whole blog, is that there is another compelling argument in support of at least discussing the important issues raised by the "Open Orthodoxy" crowd.  First, let me tell you a little bit about myself.  I did not grow up in an Orthodox home, and came to observance largely based on my own conclusions and feelings.  I sensed the truth of our tradition when reading the words of the Chumash as a teenager in high school, and I sensed the beauty of our tradition through experiences such as Shabbat lunch at the house of Rabbi Goldscheider, the local Conservative Rabbi.  By the time college came around, I had a lot to learn and a lot of growing to do; professing to believe in Jewish values is easy, but proving to live by them in a thoroughly consistent way proved much more challenging.

After college at the University of Pennsylvania, a year studying in Israel at Yeshivat Netiv Aryeh, four years in the semicha program at RIETS, during which I was also studying at Fordham Law School and living in Manhattan, I have come into contact with many different social groups, all of whom would consider themselves "observant."  On this blog, I would like to speak up for an argument I've never heard before.

I have seen and been a part of a large and growing group, many young and some old, who are experiencing a major and serious disconnect with religious culture and values in the Orthodox community, especially as propounded by the rabbinate.  Increasingly, there are some Rabbis who seem to focus on an artificially narrow list of sectarian concerns, while ignoring the major ethical issues of the day.  It's not only the content, but the language as well.    Rather than discussing dating, the politically correct terminology is the "shidduch crisis."  Rather than primarily discussing key components of a relationship, the discussion focuses on the number of dates, avoiding negiah and hirhurim asurim, and how learning more Torah is the best way to insure a "better" (read more attractive) wife.  In the eyes of a silent majority, not only are these values misplaced and distorted, the terminology is foreign and unhelpful.  Romantic relationships are perhaps the most important, certainly the most emotional part of life for a huge segment of Orthodox Jewry, and many religious leaders are too often missing the issues that are really of concern.  Really, people are concerned with issues of commitment, balancing the need for romance with the intellectual desire for a responsible and compatible spouse, with the constant focus on competition and the possibility that someone better is lurking somewhere just outside of their already large social network.  And of course, on what, if any, positive role sexuality is to have in a Jewish relationship. It's not only dating.  I just chose it as an example.  Many segments of the leadership are silent on the most important issues facing a huge segment of Jewry.  And this type of analysis could be conducted with almost every major issue.  

Many Orthodox Jews live modern lives where modern values are a given, not a controversy.  Further, they need no apology.  Democracy is an important value not because of any obscure reference in the rishonim but because we've come to believe deeply in the idea that all people are created equally in God's image, and it follows logically that everyone deserves an equal say.  It follows further that traditional Jewish attitudes toward non-Jews will be viewed as racist and unethical.  Women's rights are important not primarily because of religious sources, but because we've come to believe that women deserve the right to carve their own path and not be boxed in by the perceptions of men who doubt (and have historically denied) their capabilities.  Mixed shiurim and social functions are a given not because of teshuvos, and not because that's how it used to be, but because we've come to believe that women have important contributions to make, and that always separating leads to the very sexualization of women it aims to prevent.  If we can never safely consider the ideas of women, never safely interact with them, they must be inherently and primarily dangerous, according to the subtly ubiquitous message.  

Note:  In all of the arguments I've made above, I've used religious ideals to argue for a modern or open point of view.  I've argued for democracy based on the notion that everyone is created in God's image.  I've argued for women's rights not because women are equal in an egalitarian sense, but because religious values demand respect for all people as people, and our policies now cause men to look at women with less respect than they ought to, and view them primarily as physical creatures (ignoring the intellects and souls they possess).  If I wanted to, I could quote sources to show how these values stem from our tradition, and they most certainly do!

What I'm getting at, and what I'd like to discuss on this blog, is that we need to have a debate and discussion on the merits of a given issue.  A bracha can't be defended simply because all the poskim say you have to say it.  That's running away from the real question.  The real question is, "[i]s it morally wrong to say a particular bracha or not?"  Note that it may be, or it may not be; I'm not commenting about the answer, but the question must fairly be asked.   When considering whether something is morally wrong, we might want to take into account conservative notions of preserving the tradition by preventing alteration, or the idea that many previous generations said the bracha before us.  But the discussion should then focus on conservative and traditional values versus the idea that women (although different) are most certainly not inferior!  Too often, substantive arguments become arguments of process ( . . . but that's kefira! but Rebbi X says you can't do that! But you're just cherry-picking sources to fit your values!)  

For Judaism to remain relevant to a huge and silent majority of Modern Orthodox individuals, we need to intelligently and openly discuss the actual merits of specific issues, and we can't be afraid to do so.  I have a certain sense that people aren't really saying what they mean, and that this whole debate is happening on the wrong terms.