Category Archives: Halakhic Pluralism

Of Gaps and Bridges

Israel MK Yair Lapid, the leader of the Yesh Atid party, recently took to the podium of the Knesset to blast the Netanyahu government for its refusal, in his view, ever to say “no” to the political and monetary demands of the ḥaredim. Perhaps the most dramatic part of his speech (see the clip) touches upon the ongoing dispute over the nature of public (i.e., legally required) Shabbat observance in Israel. Lapid as we’d expect from a “secularist” (ḥiloni) politician, argues against religious coercion.  I agree with you, he tells a ḥaredi government minister, about the importance of Shabbat to the Jewish people. But *you* do not get to define Shabbat for *me*. Just as I would not tell you how to observe Shabbat in your home and your neighborhood, so you shouldn’t tell me how to observe Shabbat where I live! He is saying, in so many words, that Judaism is a personal thing. I and no one else – and definitely not Orthodox rabbis – am entitled to make my own religious decisions as to how I shall practice Judaism in personal space.

As good Jewish religious liberals who condemn anything that smacks of religious coercion, we applaud Lapid’s words. But before we cheer him too loudly, let’s consider the implications of his words (though his intent may be different). If we read him literally, Lapid is describing an unbridgeable gap between two irreconcilable worldviews. On the one side is modernity, with its classical liberal commitment to the sanctity of individual freedom. Faith, according to this worldview, is entirely a private matter; it is up to each of us to decide for him/herself whether and how to practice religion. On the other side is the Orthodoxy represented by the ḥaredi government minister, a Judaism defined by a system of mitzvot and חיובים (obligations) that makes no room for freedom of choice. In that world, religion is most definitely not a private matter but something compulsory, a set of proper behaviors determined by halakhah, the Jewish legal tradition as interpreted by the proper (read: Orthodox) authorities. If this is what Lapid really means, namely that the two worldviews are mutually exclusive, then we have no alternative but to stand on one side of that gap or on the other. And as liberals, our choice ought to be obvious.

We at the Freehof Institute are uncomfortable with this one-side-or-the-other approach. Yes, we are liberals, proud citizens of the culture of modernity, and champions of individual freedom. At the same time, we do not believe that individual freedom is an end in itself. To put this differently, we are Jews as well as liberals. And as Jews, we are in search not only of the right to make our own religious decisions – a right that as moderns we already possess – but of substance, a rich and meaningful Jewish life. And since Judaism is and always has been a practice-centered faith, the source of that substance is the halakhah – yes, the Jewish legal tradition with all its talk of mitzvot and obligations –that body of thought and writing in which Jews for nigh on to 2000 years have argued and worked out their decisions about sacred practice. For serious liberal Jews to reject halakhah is therefore self-defeating, not a viable option. What we require, rather, is a halakhah that speaks to the modern spirit, a “liberal” or “progressive” halakhah (hence our name!) that offers a life of Jewish substance and meaning to Jews who stand on *our* side of that supposedly unbridgeable gap.

In other words, it’s not an either-or choice between modernity and halakhah. We can have both. To spread that message is the work of the Freehof Institute, a mission based upon our commitment to two fundamental truths: first, that there is no such thing as “Judaism” without halakhah, and second, that halakhah is too important to be left to the exclusive control of the Orthodox rabbinate.

T’ruah, Sh’varim, and the Blessings of Pluralism

It’s a familiar feature of Rosh Hashanah observance, but let’s review.

The Mishnah (Rosh Hashanah 4:9) informs us that we are obligated to hear a minimum of nine blasts of the shofar on the New Year. The Talmud (B. Rosh Hashanah 33b-34a) derives this law from the Torah verses that speak of the shofar blasts during the month of Tishri (Numbers 29:1, Leviticus 25:9, and Leviticus 23:24): three times we are to hear the series t’kiah-t’ruah-t’kiah, for a total of nine blasts. So far so good – everybody agrees on the nature of this requirement. But then the consensus breaks down. While it’s obvious that t’kiah is a simple one-blast sound of the shofar, there’s a disagreement as to what, exactly, the Torah means by t’ruah. What should we do about it? The Shulḥan Arukh explains (Oraḥ Ḥayyim 590:2):

תרועה זו האמורה בתורה, נסתפק לנו אם היא היללה שאנו קורים תרועה, או אם היא מה שאנו קורים שברים, או אם הם שניהם יחד. לפיכך, כדי לצאת ידי ספק צריך לתקוע תשר”ת ג’ פעמים, ותש”ת ג’ פעמים, ותר”ת ג’ פעמים

We are uncertain as to exactly what the Torah means by t’ruah. Perhaps it is the wailing sound that we (customarily) call t’ruah; perhaps it is what we call sh’varim; perhaps it is both, together. Therefore, in order to remove all doubt (that we are fulfilling the mitzvah) we must sound t’kiah-sh’varim/t’ruah-t’kiah three times, t’kiah-sh’varim-t’kiah three times, and t’kiah-t’ruah-t’kiah three times.

Our passage, in other words, deals head on with the uncertainty… and refuses to resolve it! It does not demand that we determine the one correct way to sound the shofar.  It instructs us rather to follow both opinions, most obviously in order to make sure that “we’re doing it right,” but also – and we think primarily – to affirm the potential for truth in both sides of the maḥloket (dispute). Why decide between two perfectly good right answers when we don’t have to? This doesn’t always happen, of course. Frequently, halakhists subject the texts to close analysis in order to determine just which side of a disagreement is “right.” And no wonder: sometimes, on some issues, we simply cannot accommodate the existence of conflicting alternatives, and we have to decide between the available choices. But this text, this detail of Jewish religious observance reminds us that the halakhic tradition is capable of tolerating a good deal of ambiguity, an absence of definitive answers. The proper name for this is halakhic pluralism,[1] a state of affairs that permits us to study Torah on our own and to arrive at our best understandings of the texts without having to bow to some rabbinical establishment’s version of the right interpretation and “the” correct answer.

Such, at any rate, is how we at the Freehof Institute prefer to study the halakhah. And, we think, it’s a pretty good thought to keep in mind as the sound of the shofar greets the dawn of a new year.

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[1] Of which the picture above is a clear example.


The OU on Female Clergy, Part 2: Why the Texts are Insufficient

In our last post, we discussed last February’s decision of the “Rabbinic Panel” of the Orthodox Union (OU) prohibiting female clergy in the OU’s member congregations.  That decision is accompanied by an extended essay in which the members of the panel, seven leading centrist[1] Orthodox poskim, set forth the reasoning behind it. The essay begins with a description of “halakhic methodology,” the way in which poskim are said to arrive at their decisions. We called that description “refreshingly honest” because it freely acknowledges the dominant role played by the “halakhic ethos” or “mesorah,” the halakhist’s ideological worldview, his sense of what an “authentic” interpretation of Torah would require, in the decision-making process. This is especially important in our case, because the legal sources, the halakhic texts upon which any rabbinical ruling is ostensibly based, are insufficient to answer the question whether women may serve as rabbis or other clergy.[2] Continue reading The OU on Female Clergy, Part 2: Why the Texts are Insufficient

The OU on Female Clergy: Some Refreshing Honesty

Last February 1, the Orthodox Union, the umbrella organization of mainstream Orthodoxy in North America, adopted as its official policy a rabbinical ruling that prohibits women from serving as clergy in any of its over 400 member synagogues. The intention, evidently, was to resolve the controversy over the ordination of women as “halakhic, spiritual, and Torah leaders” in the modern Orthodox community. That resolution, to put it mildly, has not yet occurred. Orthodox supporters of women’s ordination have denounced the ruling (here, here, and here) – one calls it “an historic mistake of epic proportions” –  and seem determined to stick to their course. We’re obviously sympathetic, and we wish them success in resisting the OU’s policy.

But that’s not what this post is about. Continue reading The OU on Female Clergy: Some Refreshing Honesty

Sefarad – A Different Halakhic World?

Rabbi Haim Amsalem is a “Sefardi”[1] political activist in Israel. (We’ve met him previously on this blog.) One of the founding members of the ḥaredi Shas political party, he was expelled  in 2010 in large part due to his dissent over the halakhic policy of the Sefardi rabbinical establishment (rabanut) dominated by then Chief Rabbi Ovadyah Yosef and his sons. His major complaint was and is that the Sefardi rabbinate has adopted the extremist, stringent approach to p’sikah (halakhic decision) characteristic of the Ashkenaic ḥaredim  at the expense of the classic – and much more moderate – Sefardi tradition. For his temerity, Amsalem has been branded a “Reformi,” which is just about the worst thing an Orthodox Jew can call another Jew.[2] Not to be outdone, Amsalem strikes back in kind: it is the Sefardi rabanut, he claims, that is actually doing the work of the Reformers.[3] He explains that it was the Asheknazi Orthodox rabbinate that actually created the Reform movement in 19th-century Europe through its narrow, sectarian, and rejectionist p’sikah that drove millions of Jews away from Torah and tradition. And the Sefardi rabbinate in Israel today is making the same mistake, “creating” Reform Jews through its slavish imitation of the halakhic method of the “Litvaks.” Continue reading Sefarad – A Different Halakhic World?