Opuscula Book worth reading

I JUST FINISHED a book, Conversations for Autumn 2019/5779-80 by R. Marc D. Angel (right). It is issue number 34 in the on-going series.

The book is a potpourri of sundry topics penned by R. Angel, most of which I enjoyed reading.

R. Angel — one of the book’s topics is Minhagim: Divinity and Diversity in which he discusses “Jewish” names, including his surname — considers how American Sefardim (and Mizrahim) interact with the Israeli chief rabbinate and how American orthodox are being forced (my word) into haridism — extremism.

Because R. Angel and this scrivener often are of the same opinion, I find a lot to appreciate in his works.

The rabbi founded the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals¹ in 2007 and has been its director since. Before the institute he was, from 1969 to 2007, rabbi at the Spanish & Portuguese Synagogue in New York City². He now is “Rabbi Emeritus”; R. Meir Y. Soloveichik³ is the congregations current rabbi.

R. Angel is more “modern orthodox” than Sephardi/Mizrachi, although the influences from his Turkish and Rhodes forebears play a major role in his books and talks. (Likewise, the Spanish & Portuguese Synagogue is more “modern orthodox” than either Spanish or Portuguese.)

A true Sephardi will recognize the rabbi’s trials and tribulations growing up among Ashkenazi Jews who cannot comprehend any minhag except their own. Tzit-tzit in or out? Standing or sitting for the “Big 10”? (The answer is “When in Rome . . .” )

This scrivener is a member of a Sefardi-dominated mixed minyan where most of the Ashkenazi members follow the Sefardi practice. I’m certain they follow Ashkenazi practices when in Ashkenazi congregations, as they should.

One of R. Angel’s oft-quoted sources is former Sephardic Chief Rabbi of Israel R. Benzion Uziel. He notes differences between both R. Abraham Isaac Kook, the first Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi, and the late R. Ovadia Yosef, the Sephardi Chief Rabbi of Israel from 1973 to 1983.

Rabbi Uziel, left; R. Kook, right (https://tinyurl.com/tc6vcxk)

R. Uziel, according to R. Angel, always tried to find ways to include all Israelis in the building of the state. Where R. Kook was stringent, R. Uziel tried to find a way to accommodate everyone. R. Yusef Messas was another Sephardi (Moroccan) rabbi that earned R. Angel’s respect sufficient to mention by name in Conversations.

The book includes a fairly lengthy chapter on gerut — conversions.

R. Angle looks at conversions throughout history and concludes that the harideem in Israel have high jacked the process not only in Israel but in the galut as well.

A chapter is dedicated to another of the rabbi’s favorites, R. Jos. B. Soloveichik, referred to simply as “the Rav.”

Still another chapter is set aside to discuss modesty, “tseniut.” (Spelling is from the book.) The Babylonian amora, Rav Sheshet,⁴ is noted for suggesting that any man who gazes at a woman’s little finger it was though he was gazing at her private parts. Sheshet, known to be irascible, also said a woman’s hair is ervah (immodest). All of Sheshet’s comments might be taken with the proverbial “grain of salt”; Sheshet was blind and could see neither a woman’s little finger nor her hair.

The Institute’s web site is one I bookmarked for frequent visits.

Sources

1. Institute: https://www.jewishideas.org/

2. Spanish & Portuguese congregation: https://tinyurl.com/vk2venl

3. R. Soloveichik: https://tinyurl.com/rnea52t

4. R. Sheshet: https://tinyurl.com/szab452

עינים להם ולא יראו * אזנים להם ולא יאזנו

PLAGIARISM is the act of appropriating the literary composition of another, or parts or passages of his writings, or the ideas or language of the same, and passing them off as the product of one’s own mind.

Truth is an absolute defense to defamation. Defamation is a false statement of fact. If the statement was accurate, then by definition it wasn’t defamatory.

Web sites (URLs) beginning https://tinyurl.com/ are generated by the free Tiny URL utility and reduce lengthy URLs to manageable size.

 

Comment on Conversations

Thoughts for Parashat Vayera, October 19, 2013 Wickedness is a Strange Malady

 

By Rabbi Marc D. Angel
Used with permission

The Torah describes the wickedness of Sodom as being pervasive enough to be punished by God’s destruction of the city. There were not even ten righteous people in the entire city. When the men of Sodom surrounded Lot’s home with the intention of doing harm to Lot’s guests, the Torah informs us that the wicked group included “both young and old, all the people from every quarter” (Bereishith 19:4).

Is it really possible for an entire city to be so steeped in evil? How can we imagine a town so corrupt that not even ten good people lived there?

If we peruse human history, we find instances of entire societies becoming mired in corruption, violence and wickedness of every kind. The names of Stalin, Hitler and Pol Pot come to mind when we ponder the fate of humanity during the past century. These tyrants were able to mobilize their forces to destroy millions of innocent people. Their henchmen followed their orders blindly, even when those orders entailed the most shameful and immoral cruelties.

But tyrants and their henchmen succeeded in terrorizing their societies because many citizens were too afraid to rise in resistance. The “silent majority”—although composed of people who were not innately evil—went along with the evil by looking the other way.

Tyrants utilize brute force. But they also utilize psychological warfare and intimidation. They vilify anyone who stands up against them. Those who resist the tyranny are branded as traitors or trouble makers. The tyrants, whose goal is to control the people into total submission, accuse opponents of attempting to control society. The tyrants, whose goal is to maintain total power for themselves, vilify opponents as being power-hungry.

And the masses stay quiet. And those vilified by the tyrants become frightened into silence.

Although there no doubt were good and brave people who found ways of resisting the evil dictators, they were so few that it may have appeared from a distance that “both young and old, all the people from every quarter” were accomplices.

In Ibsen’s powerful drama, Enemy of the People, Dr. Stockmann found that the water sustaining the local health spas was contaminated. His scientific tests proved beyond a doubt that the water would be dangerous to people who would bathe in it. Instead of being thanked for saving the lives of potential patrons of these spas, he was vilified by the leaders and the masses of the town.

His findings would ruin the town’s business. He was branded as an eccentric trouble maker who exaggerated the problem for his own glory. At a town meeting, Dr. Stockmann was declared an enemy of the people. He was fired from his position. His children had to leave school. The windows of his home were shattered. His patients were told to find another doctor. He was ordered to write a public repudiation of his scientific findings, which he would not do.

Were all the people of Dr. Stockmann’s town evil? No, they were not. But they were less concerned with truth and health than they were with their pocket books. If word got out that the spas were unhealthful, then the town—and its people—would lose the income brought in by tourists. If the town leaders agreed to have the water supply improved as per Dr. Stockmann’s suggestions, it would cost a lot of money and would take several years to accomplish. The people did not want to pay for the repairs and did not want to lose two years of business. They were not concerned about the endangerment of the lives of tourists; they were not concerned that if patrons of the spas got sick, people would finally realize that Dr. Stockmann’s reports were correct.

Wickedness is a strange malady. It doesn’t only come from wicked people. It also comes from weak people, frightened people, people more concerned with their own immediate gains than with the long-term needs of society. Wickedness is not the monopoly of vicious tyrants and dictators; it is shared by lower level manipulators and demagogues who seek to control and intimidate. It is shared by those who tolerate wickedness and who succumb to the lies and propaganda of the wicked leaders.

The Torah’s account of the wickedness of Sodom stands as an eternal warning about what can happen to a society if evil is allowed to persist, if good people are intimidated into passivity and silence.

The story about Sodom is not only about Sodom.

The Angel for Shabbat column is presented as a service of the Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals. Please visit the website jewishideas.org for a wide array of articles of special interest to those who wish to foster an intellectually vibrant, compassionate and inclusive Orthodox Judaism.

The article above is found at http://jewishideas.org/angel-shabbat/wickedness-strange-malady-thoughts-parashat-va

Judaism and the 3 bears Rephrase, please

Every week, the The Institute for Jewish Ideas and Ideals sends out an email querying its members with a “Question of the week.”

QUESTION OF THE WEEK: Recent polls have indicated that 10% of American Jews identify as Orthodox. About 20% identify as Jewish without religion! When 90% of American Jews are not Orthodox, Orthodoxy seems to be becoming more insular and less interested in connecting with other Jews. Should Orthodox Jews engage more creatively and more often with non-Orthodox Jews, or should we build higher walls around ourselves to protect us from negative religious influences?

I have a problem with the question, especially as it comes from Sefardi rabbi Marc Angel.

The problem is the word “Orthodox” and variations of same.

“Orthodox” is, first and foremost, a European concept. It is foreign to Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews. The label is an effective barrier – a מחיצה - where there should be no barrier.

In fact, the question suggests it own answer when it asks: Should Orthodox Jews engage more creatively and more often with non-Orthodox Jews, or should we build higher walls around ourselves to protect us from negative religious influences?

I see far, far too many Jews who reject out of hand any Jew who is “not like me.” Makes no difference if the Jew is (alphabetically) Conservative, Orthodox, or Reform (and flavors in between) or non-observant, whether the Jew is Ashkenazi, Sephardi/Mizrahi, or a blend; ditto for both “accident-of-birth” Jews and converts, “righteous” or otherwise. The “you’re not like me” malady seems less prevalent in Israel – “less” albeit not “non-existent” – than in the U.S.

In general - and remember, “all generalities are lies” - Sephardi/Mizrahi Jews look at other Jews as (a) less observant than, (b) more observant than, or (c) observant like me. The level of observance is dependent on the perception and level of observance of the person making the observation. In other words, how observant I am depends on your level of observance – and, to a lesser extent, your narrow mindedness.

A few quick words on “narrow mindedness.”

The late Hakham R. Ovadia Yosef (נפטר יום ב' חשון תשע''ד) wrote many books and ruled on many things based on his Iraqi heritage and his education. Those who followed him, and there were many, accepted his authority without looking right or left.

I have a book in my library, דברי שלום ואמת, the sole purpose of which is to explain that there are other valid traditions that are equally correct.

Someone in the Shas camp would, for example, tell a woman that she must say the blessing over the Shabat candles before lighting them while the North African – and possibly others – tradition is to light the candles, cover the eyes, then recite the blessing. A minor point, perhaps, but one that caused grief in the family.

There was a time when I was guilty of “looking down” at others who were not like me. The hasid who tucks his trousers into his socks and insists on wearing a fur hap in the hottest weather; the (classical) Reform lady rabbi who absolutely forbids kippa and tallit in her synagogue, and the Jew who drove to shul on Shabat.

I’m older – much older, as it happens – and, thanks to my late father-in-law אליהו בן זהרה לחיאני ע''ה, hopefully much wiser. I learned from him that a Jew is a Jew is a Jew, regardless of the person’s “take” on Judaism.

My father-in-law was not a rabbi. He was not a particularly learned man, at least as far as formal book and yeshiva learning. But he was truly a hakham when it came to people, Jews and non-Jews alike.(He came from Morocco where he daily dealt with Moroccan Jews, Moroccan Muslims, and French Jews and non-Jews.) Lest anyone think Morocco was a place sans hakhamim, there were a number of Moroccan communities with yeshivot of note and it was home to more than a few world renowned rabbinical families; my father-in-law worked with one such family.

I make minyan with a “mixed” congregation. We have Syrians, Egyptians, several Ashkenazim, at least one Turk, and a Moroccan or two. The shul’s sedur is, I think, Ben Ish Hai, but you’ll see other sidurim on the tables (including the Moroccan וזרח השמש and אבותינו). Some were tzit-tzit outside, some not; some have payot, others do not; some are clean shaven all year round, some are bearded from time to time while others’ faces are hirsute all year round. I have never heard anyone even suggest that “that” person is less of a Jew that the speaker.

That’s not to say that every Jew has to be every other Jew’s best friend forever – BFF to the texters – but it is to say that the Jews in my circle are tolerant of Jews with a different perspective on the religion. There is a Chabad center down the street. It starts on Rebbe time – that is, much later than our HaNetz start time. It occasionally lacks one or two to make a minyan, so the rabbi sends a runner to us to “borrow” however many it takes to fill out the minyan.

I am fortunate to live in an area (Hollywood FL) that has an abundance of congregations; many are of the “more observant” category. People float from minyan to minyan. Late for ours? Go to the other Ben Ish Hai shul or the Moroccan synagogue or for a different flavor, try the large Ashkenazi synagogue or the small Ashkenazi storefront shul. Go a little father and there are “non-traditional” congregations.

I’m not a Pollyanna; there are a couple of classes of Jews I heartily dislike; one consists of those who drop their children off at Sunday school – or send them to a Hebrew day or afternoon school – and can’t bother to make minyan; great example, people. The other class is composed of those aliyah managers who ignore recently bar mitzvahed boys (or bat mitzvahed girls in non-traditional congregations). The youngsters soon learn that while everyone tells them their presence is important, it’s not important enough to give them the honors they deserve as children of the commandments, their obligations and benefits. דו פנים doesn’t work for me. (“My” congregation gives honors by The List; everyone eligible for an honor gets an honor in his turn, from the 13-plus a day to the oldest geezer.)

ADVERTISEMENT: Congregation Nahar Shalom (Dania beach/Hollywood FL) needs a cohen. We have several levi’m but no permanent cohen. While every Jew is welcome to Nahar Slalom’s HaNetz minyan, cohanim are especially welcome.

The bottom line for a Jew should be that a Jew is a Jew is a Jew – perhaps less observant, perhaps more observant, or just observant like me.

 

הריני מקבל עלי מצוה עשה של ואהבת לרעך כמוך, והריני אוהב כל אחד מבני ישראל כנפשי ומאודי