Categories
Interfaith Orthodox Judaism

Acknowledging Intermarriage in the Modern Orthodox World

In this past weekend’s issue of the New York Times Magazine, the brilliant Harvard law professor Noah Feldman (pictured) describes how he has been ostracized from the Modern Orthodox high school he attended because he married a non-Jewish woman. Several years ago, Noah attended a 10-year reunion for his graduating class of the Maimonides School, a progressive Orthodox dual-curriculum Jewish day school in Brookline, Mass. When his face and that of his non-Jewish Asian-American girlfriend (now wife and mother of his children) were mysteriously removed from the group photo at the reunion, he understood.

Noah FeldmanIn response to Noah’s lengthy article in the Times Magazine, Rabbi Shmuley Boteach (“Shalom in the Home”) weighed in on the issue of ostracizing intermarried Jews in the Jerusalem Post. Rabbi Boteach knew Noah very well when Noah studied at Oxford before heading to Yale where he became less Jewishly observant.

A Google search for “Noah Feldman, Harvard” turned up the couple’s New York Times wedding announcement as the first result. Noah is a very impressive guy. He’s a Rhodes Scholar and Harvard Fellow who clerked for U.S. Supreme Court Justice David Souter. He served as a consultant to Paul Bremer and the transitional government in Iraq and is the author of three books. He is now a tenured professor at Harvard’s Spinoza School of Law. This is a resume that any alma mater would brag about, but the Maimonides School is embarrassed that this alum has married out of the fold. This raises many difficult questions for Orthodox institutions. Noah’s article, as well as Rabbi Boteach’s op-ed in the Jerusalem Post, will undoubtedly fuel much discussion in the modern Orthodox world on this challenging subject.

Noah Feldman’s article can be accessed here.

Rabbi Shmuley Boteach’s article can be accessed here.

(c) Rabbi Jason Miller | http://blog.rabbijason.com | Twitter: @RabbiJason | facebook.com/rabbijasonmiller
Categories
Conservative Judaism Orthodox Judaism

Quoted in the Wall Street Journal

I was quoted in the Wall Street Journal today in an article about the mechitza (the physical barrier that separates men and women in an Orthodox synagogue. Like many other times when I’ve been interviewed for a newspaper article, I spoke with this reporter for well over an hour on about three separate occasions only to have a few words actually attributed to me. However, it is a well-written article about an interesting subject. Based on the article, one might think that I had something to do with the decision at Agudas Achim to not use a mechitza, but I arrived on the scene years after that decision was made and the shul decided to affiliate with the Conservative Movement.

HOUSES OF WORSHIP

Prayer Behind the Partition
By LUCETTE LAGNADO
March 23, 2007; Page W13

As a little girl, I was both enamored of the women’s section at the back of my Orthodox synagogue and tormented by it. I lived for Saturday mornings, when my mother and I left our Brooklyn apartment and walked around the corner to sweet, friendly Young Magen David and the cozy partitioned area reserved for women only. It was its own world: intimate, charming, a place that encouraged friendship as well as prayer. Safe at last, I’d think, as I put the rough schoolweek behind me.

I’d take a seat next to my mother behind the wooden filigreed divider with clover-shaped holes. My immigrant congregation, made up of families who came from the Middle East, was so small that it was easy to follow the service from our area, and when the Torah scrolls were passed around you’d see women’s hands poking through the holes to touch the holy scrolls. Yet I also bristled at the divider and longed to escape to the men’s section. The men seemed to have such fun taking part in the sacraments and being counted as part of a “minyan,” or quorum of 10, necessary for the service.

The purpose of a divider — or “mehitzah,” as it is known in Hebrew — is to make sure that men aren’t distracted from their prayers. The custom of separate seating dates back to the Second Temple in Jerusalem, when congregants became so lighthearted at a Jewish festival that it was deemed necessary to segregate the sexes.

Fast-forward to 20th-century America, where the Reform and Conservative movements made a point of allowing families to sit together. The mehitzah all but vanished from their grand new temples sprouting in suburbia. With the rise of the women’s movement, the divider became almost a symbol of female oppression — antiquated and vaguely contemptible. Even some Orthodox shuls did without a formal partition, according to Rabbi Tzvi Hersh Weinreb of the Orthodox Union in New York.

They’ve made an odd and tortuous comeback, these dividers, fueled in part by a resurgence of Orthodox Judaism. Some other branches of Judaism, including ones that did much to try to include women, are hurting — while Orthodox Judaism is booming. “People in this crazy world are looking to be anchored…they are looking for greater discipline,” says Rabbi Marc Schneier, who runs the Hampton Synagogue in chic Westhampton Beach.

In the past few years, the Orthodox Union, which oversees hundreds of synagogues in America, formally decreed that any congregation calling itself Orthodox must have a formal divider. The OU’s decision has been convulsive in some places. Congregation Agudas Achim, in Columbus, Ohio, thought of itself as Orthodox, yet didn’t have a mehitzah. When confronted on the issue by the OU it engaged in a passionate debate, according to its rabbi, Jason Miller, and ultimately refused to put in a divider. It even switched to the Conservative movement. These days, says Rabbi Miller, the thriving Agudas Achim is “100% egalitarian.”

Beth Tfiloh in Baltimore went in the other direction. Years back, when it relocated to the suburbs from downtown, the congregation decided on separate seating but no partition. The concern was that a divider might alienate young families lured by synagogues where everyone sat together. But the tide has turned, says Rabbi Mitchell Wohlberg, and a new, more observant, generation would have left if it were not for the partition. At the same time, he adds, congregants “didn’t want to see women move to the back of the bus.” The solution? A “tasteful” mehitzah made of glass, wood and brass.

Rabbi Wohlberg is impatient with complainers. “Many of the people who say they want to sit with their husbands and wives at services, they don’t play golf together, they don’t have weeknights together,” he remarks. “All of a sudden, they can’t live without each other when they come to service?”

The OU’s partition policy calls for women to sit apart from men with a “tangible, physical separation.” But debate rages: Should it be six feet tall, or four? Should it be opaque, or allow for some transparency? Meeting the requirements of Jewish, or Halachic, law, isn’t as daunting as it seems, says Westhampton’s Rabbi Schneier. His mehitzah is so discreet as to barely be noticeable.

Rabbi Raphael Benchimol, of the Manhattan Sephardic Congregation, points out that the partition isn’t only important for men: “Women shouldn’t be distracted either.” Yet I learned early on that dividers did little to stop flirting between the sexes and have often wondered if separation didn’t encourage romance. I mean, what is more desirable than a forbidden object, the person you glimpse beyond a divider?

These days, with no little shul around the corner, and no mother to lead me there, I have the choice to go and pray anywhere. I can go to one of those vast and fashionable egalitarian temples; yet I choose to attend the same type of intimate service I did as a child. I am always on a quest for the ideal women’s section. I may have found it in my little shul, Chabad of Southampton Jewish Center, on Long Island. A few plastic potted plants make up the divider. It’s Halachic, but not intimidating.

When I come in the Rabbi waves hello. I put the rough workweek behind me and begin to pray.

Ms. Lagnado, a Journal reporter, is author of “The Man in the White Sharkskin Suit,” a memoir, to be published in June by Ecco/HarperCollins.

(c) Rabbi Jason Miller | http://blog.rabbijason.com | Twitter: @RabbiJason | facebook.com/rabbijasonmiller
Categories
Israel Orthodox Judaism

The Israeli Rosa Parks?

I’ve been following the story about Miriam Shear, the Orthodox woman who was spit on and beaten by several Haredi men on a public bus heading for the Kotel in Jerusalem last week. There are those who claim that she is the “Israeli Rosa Parks” for refusing to give up her seat to the Haredi men who wanted her to sit in the back of the bus even though this was not a Mehadrin* bus (there are some public Egged buses in Jerusalem that have separate seating for the ultra-Orthodox to maintain their views of modesty).

[*In a telltale sign about what the Web has become, I was going to offer a link to the Wikipedia entry for the Hebrew word Mehadrin. So I put Mehadrin into my Firefox Wikipedia search engine and while there was no Wikipedia entry for Mehadrin, the first result to come up was “Miriam Shear” with a 12.1% relevance!]

The comments about this article at Haaretz.com are very interesting because there are some who claim that the woman had a hidden agenda and essentially was looking for this to happen to her to make a point (that would be the “the woman was looking to get beaten up” argument that thankfully doesn’t fly anymore in America). Some in the ultra-Orthodox camp even criticize the victim for violating the laws of lashon hara (gossip) by going public with this story that gives a black eye to the Haredi community. As of this posting there are about 475 comments about this story on the Haaretz.com site.

The story was also picked up by Jewschool.com.

From Ha’aretz

Woman beaten on Jerusalem bus for refusing to move to rear seat
By Daphna Berman

A woman who reported a vicious attack by an ad-hoc “modesty patrol” on a Jerusalem bus last month is now lining up support for her case and may be included in a petition to the High Court of Justice over the legality of sex-segregated buses.

Miriam Shear says she was traveling to pray at the Western Wall in Jerusalem’s Old City early on November 24 when a group of ultra-Orthodox (Haredi) men attacked her for refusing to move to the back of the Egged No. 2 bus. She is now in touch with several legal advocacy and women’s organizations, and at the same time, waiting for the police to apprehend her attackers.

In her first interview since the incident, Shear says that on the bus three weeks ago, she was slapped, kicked, punched and pushed by a group of men who demanded that she sit in the back of the bus with the other women. The bus driver, in response to a media inquiry, denied that violence was used against her, but Shear’s account has been substantiated by an unrelated eyewitness on the bus who confirmed that she sustained an unprovoked “severe beating.”

Shear, an American-Israeli woman who currently lives in Canada, says that on a recent five-week vacation to Israel, she rode the bus daily to the Old City to pray at sunrise. Though not defined by Egged as a sex-segregated “mehadrin” bus, women usually sit in the back, while men sit in the front, as a matter of custom. [more]

(c) Rabbi Jason Miller | http://blog.rabbijason.com | Twitter: @RabbiJason | facebook.com/rabbijasonmiller
Categories
Celebrities Chabad Jewish Music Orthodox Judaism

Matisyahu’s Super Famous but is it Halakhically Permissable?

I just read an interesting article about whether Matisyahu, the Chasidic reggae superstar, is violating Jewish law according to his Chabad Lubavitch community by performing in clubs and bars where activities occur that run contra to the code of morality held firmly by the ultra-Orthodox establishment.

Here’s a clip of the article:

Matisyahu: Rabbi or Rebel?
By Levi Brackman

Matisyahu is now an international phenomenon; he is a reggae singer with a difference. Instead of dreadlocks he sports a trilby. His beard is predicated on the Kabbalists’ theosophy instead of Rastafarian tradition and his clothing places him in an Ultra Orthodox Jewish enclave rather than a black ghetto. This week he released his latest CD entitled YOUTH and it seems that Matisyahu’s tremendous success so far is about to reach unprecedented heights. Predictably, this man’s singing antics are deeply controversial.

Many have asked the following questions. Is it correct for a Chassidic Jew to be singing in clubs and bars? Is Matisyahu using his talent to bring Godliness to the profoundly unGodly and thus sanctifying God’s name or is he achieving the opposite?

Whereas this article is not meant to give a definitive answer to these questions it does, however, endeavor to explain what motivates a Chassidic Jew like Matisyahu to perform in a bar and club.

There is a fundamental difference between the Kabbalistic and the non-Kabbalistic views of Judaism. Up until the French Revolution in 1789, society was divided into three groups: the church, the aristocracy and the peasants. In the terminology of the post-modern French philosopher Jacques Derrida (1930-2004), the landowners and the church were the centre and the peasants were the periphery. The two did not mix. Education, money and power were restricted to the elite; the peasants enjoyed no such privileges. After the French Revolution, the periphery was also given some of the privileges that were previously the exclusive right of the centre. With this came the emancipation of the Jews. Although the landowners and the educated were still regarded as the centre, the difference now was that peasants had the possibility of entering this exclusive domain.

The post-modern era, according to Derrida, was a time of “deconstruction.” All things were seen in pairs, one superior to the other: rich and poor, educated and ignorant, powerful and powerless, etc. The deconstructivist view is that rich is not necessarily superior to poor, in fact, being poor can be more advantageous. Seen from this perspective, poor is the new centre and rich is the periphery. Derrida goes one step further and says that hierarchy should not exist at all; rather, all boundaries between centre and periphery should be deconstructed.

Western society is a deconstructed civilization in many ways. Whereas in the past women were seen as inferior, today they are often regarded as superior to men. Similarly, modern human rights laws have ensured that the views of vulnerable minorities are respected and listened to.

Non-Kabbalistic Judaism, in general, does not deconstruct boundaries. According to this school of thought, the centre should be distinct from the periphery. Here we have the concept of ‘enclave Judaism,’ which clearly marks out the boundaries between the holy and the profane. The fact that this type of Judaism disagrees with Matisyahu’s style of music and choice of audience is no surprise, for it regards the mixing of the centre with the periphery as an obvious desecration of God’s name. [more]

By his own admission, Matisyahu is being guided by the Chabad School of Kabbalistic thought. Thus, as long as he adheres to Jewish law and does not get carried away with stardom and the narcissistic celebrity culture of modern-day America, his music may be considered, in my opinion, a sanctification of God’s name.
(c) Rabbi Jason Miller | http://blog.rabbijason.com | Twitter: @RabbiJason | facebook.com/rabbijasonmiller
Categories
Conservative Judaism Jewish Orthodox Judaism Reform Judaism

Conservative Judaism – The Muddle in the Middle (Article by Rabbi Joshua Hammerman)

My colleague Rabbi Joshua Hammerman published this article in The NY Jewish Week. He is spot on with his analysis of the Conservative Movement.

Lately the Conservative movement has seemed less than concerned about conserving itself. The bad news has come in droves: budget woes at the Jewish Theological Seminary; the flap over gay marriage and ordination, highlighted by the unnecessary confrontation with Rabbi Ayelet Cohen of Congregation Beit Simchat Torah; all this topped off by declining demographics in the National Jewish Population Survey suggesting that nearly half of all those who grew up as Conservative Jews no longer identify as such.

These storm clouds have hidden from view significant events that could help return the movement to its historical centrality among American Jews. Over the past several weeks, the Rabbinical Assembly has for the first time made public on-line many of the key rulings of the fabled Law Committee. (You can find these responsa at http://www.rabbinicalassembly.org/law/teshuvot_public.html.)

This landmark move coincides with the publication of a new book, “A Place in the Tent,” by a small group of rabbis and educators on the West Coast who call themselves “The Tiferet Project.” The book posits a bold, more inclusive approach toward intermarried families, bypassing the normal channels of rabbinic debate and placing the subject squarely on the table to stimulate grassroots discussion.

The strength of Conservative Judaism lies in the creative tension that is at the core of its ideology. Given the choice, some people might prefer the “moral clarity” so in vogue, but like most of us, Conservative Judaism lives in a real world of tough questions. It thrives on the unresolved conflicts that force us to confront imperfection: Judaism’s, society’s and our own.

This muddle in the middle is an uncomfortable place to reside, but it is equally a dynamic one. So while other movements offer easy responses (which for Reform often is “Why not?” and for Orthodoxy, “No way!”), Conservatives look for the kind of dialectic that has been central to rabbinic Judaism since Talmudic times.

Synthesis doesn’t always mean compromise, but it always forces us to hear all views. There is no such thing as a knee-jerk Conservative response to anything. For those up to the intellectual challenge, it can be spiritually invigorating to wrestle with our traditions and texts rather than simply submitting to their authority or tossing them aside.

Amazingly, until very recently this enriching journey was not made easily available to most Conservative Jews. Clergy and educators had it, naturally, as did many attending Camp Ramah. But the text in the pews was the Hertz Chumash, which is about as reflective of the movement’s ideology as “Das Capital” is to the GOP. When the new Conservative Torah commentary, Etz Hayim, appeared in 2001, for the first time the laity began to “get it” and to engage en masse in that liberating grappling with Torah.

People suddenly felt free to ask when and how Exodus really happened. That produced oodles of bad press because the religious right was poised to attack and Conservative leaders weren’t prepared to fend it off. After all, grappling with the Exodus was nothing new to the movement’s elite; it’s something that had been done at the seminary for generations. But someone forgot to tell those outside the ivory tower who were busy swallowing Hertz’s spoon-fed apologetic in the pews.

And now, the next steps: the responsa Web site, public conversations about inclusivity and the demystification of the halachic process. At this site people will be fascinated to read about everything from the permissibility of stem cell research to the inclusion of the matriarchs in the Amidah prayer. They will become less intimidated by their rabbis, who no longer will be the sole possessors of these secrets — and rabbis will have less need to give dummied-down sermons. The focus will be less on ritual correctness and more on intense philosophical debate.

Readers might be surprised to discover that even minority opinions can be valid. There is a built-in elasticity to Conservative halacha, taking into account factors unique to each community and to every generation. This will be especially important as the Law Committee revisits the issues of gay and lesbian marriage and ordination. When that passionate dialogue becomes public, the media again will miss the point and harp on whether the center will hold. The center will hold precisely because it will shift, as it always does — most notably 20 years ago with the ordination of women. But with the leadership so concerned about unity and PR, the movement will miss yet another opportunity to revel in the creative tension that has spun off dynamic offspring for generations — everything from Kaplan’s Reconstructionism, Heschel’s activism and the Chavurah movement of the past century to the neo-Chasidic revivalism of today.

It is not surprising that Conservative Jews are the first to shun institutional labels, including their own. Labels are often prime indicators of stagnation, and there is nothing stagnant about those who routinely struggle with life’s most gripping questions. But the movement’s leadership too often finds itself preoccupied with putting out the fires rather than fanning these passionate flames that are its very soul.

Americans are craving an authentic spiritual alternative to “moral clarity.” It’s not just blue-staters who desire a few questions to go with all the pat answers.

Natan Sharansky, whom I deeply admire, has become the administration’s standard-bearer for clarity. What we now need is a poster child for nuance. We need someone like the sage Hillel, a leader humble enough to give credence to opposing views, one who can seek truth somewhere in the give-and-take, in the muddle of the middle. If and when Conservative Judaism realizes that there is passion in that delicious ambiguity and that most Jews want to live there, it will regain its institutional mojo. It may or may not be called Conservative when it does, but it will most certainly be Judaism. n

Rabbi Joshua Hammerman is spiritual leader of Temple Beth-El in Stamford, Conn.

(c) Rabbi Jason Miller | http://blog.rabbijason.com | Twitter: @RabbiJason | facebook.com/rabbijasonmiller