Friday, March 18, 2011

Expunging the Kool Aid



"Drinking the Kool Aid" is a popular metaphor for someone who simply accepts something wholeheartedly without thinking critically about it.  The origin of the metaphor comes from the People's Temple incident in Guyana, where over 900 people committed suicide by drinking Flavor-Aid mixed with cyanide at the behest of Jim Jones, the cult's leader.

Interestingly, at one time I was a Kool-Aid drinker as well.  In my late teens, I went through a period of about a year where I started accepting everything without question.  Young earth creationism?  Check.  The absolute historicity of every midrash?  check.  The notion that Jewish philosophy, culture and practice (with the exception of things like sacrifices and the like) have been unchanged since Sinai?  Check.  The notion that everything in the Gemara is Torah MiSinai?  Check.  Belief in an unbroken and completely intact and unchanged oral tradition passed down from generation to generation to generation?  Check.  And on and on.

Most people who go from Kool-Aid drinker to critical thinker (note that I did NOT say skeptic) arrive at the Kool-Aid stage in one of two ways:  a) they're born into it or b) they become ba'alei teshuva and just want to believe everything about their new-found spirituality.  I didn't take either of those paths.   I was not born frum -- I became frum (with my mother) at about age ten.  During high school, I was a skeptic (even if I wasn't a critical thinker).  Yet, about the time I turned eighteen, I began to drink the Kool-Aid.  A Rav Avigdor Miller book could often be found in my hands.  I could be found discussing and defending Judaism's objections to evolution, natural history, cosmology and the like.  I studied and regurgitated all the fallacious arguments, bad facts and mistaken notions.  I was never much of an evangelist, but if anyone wanted to discuss it, I was there to discuss and defend.

To this day, I can't tell you why I began drinking the Kool Aid.  While I tried to (and to some extent, succeeded) in internalizing it on an intellectual level, I did not "frum out," as the saying goes.  While I sometimes wore a hat/jacket, I by no means made it a requirement.  I sometimes missed davening.  I wasn't found learning every minute of the day that wasn't otherwise occupied, and so on.  But I did accept, without much critical thought, much of the anti-scientific dogma of the subculture that I was immersed in.

At some point, however, I began thinking critically.  I began to look at and evaluate arguments.  I learned to evaluate and weigh evidence.  I began to learn to spot things such as logical fallacies, poor reasoning and just plain silliness.  I began to consider not only the dogma of Orthodox Judaism, but the context in which that dogma was created.  I began to question and probe into the things I was taught, and discover whether the knowledge I had accumulated over the years (and the observations that I made with my own senses) affirmed, contradicted or were silent about those teachings.  

Over the years, as I began thinking more and more, I began adjusting my beliefs.  I reasoned out a version of old earth creationism that was consistent with both B'raishis (IMHO) and with contemporary scientific thought (again, IMHO).  I began exploring history not solely through writings that were made hundreds (or thousands) of years after the fact, but began to consider history through both historical and contemporaneous accounts.  I began to understand that not everything that is purported to be sacred writ *must* be viewed in the absolute, but also has to be put into its proper historical and cultural context.  I began to view our Sages not as simply great figures who grew up in a societal, political and emotional vacuum who were immune to the outside world, but as people who, as great as they were, were at least partly a product of the times, places and cultures in which they lived.  

It’s been a long journey -- one that is still ongoing and, with God’s help, will go on as long as I live.  I’ve slowly begun to make a change to my learning habits -- I’m still learning Torah, but I’ve also begun learning *about* the Torah -- something that was lacking in my previous education and, I would not be surprised to find, is missing in a lot of people’s education.  I’ve begun to pay more attention to not only Tanach, Mishna, Gemara and the like, but also the historical and cultural background upon which they were created.  I’ve come to look at not only learning the halacha, but viewing that halacha as a product of a halachic process that caused it to come into being.  I believe that the Torah has to be more than what is simply printed on the page -- it also has to include how the page came to be -- and in the vast, vast majority of cases, the story of how that page came to be is far, far more complicated than “God said it to Moshe on Sinai.”


I know that there are some who are reading this who would say that what I am engaging in is dangerous and forbidden.  They would like to tell me that such things may lead one away from whatever “pure” hashkafah that they are espousing.  They may try to tell me that context and background are unimportant or, worse, irrelevant.  They may believe that our great leaders and sages grew up in a “social vacuum,” unaffected by their time, place and culture and that their halachic, philosophic and other opinions are absolutely true across all times, places and cultures.  They may believe that if Chazal, Rashi, the Rambam, Rabbeinu Asher, the Vilna Gaon or any other “sage of the canon” says something that it must be true and that any critical thought about their statements is tantamount to a slap in the face of those great sages.  They equate critical argument with impertinence, respectful disagreement with insolence and a contrary opinion with disrespect.

I disagree.  I believe one can have the utmost respect for someone and yet disagree with them.  I believe that it’s possible that things that have been said and accepted in the past may no longer be applicable to our current times, places and cultures.  I’m not saying that halacha has to change because of that, mind you, but it should be recognized that such changes and obsolescence* has taken place.  A necessary corollary of this is that I’ve come to believe that not everything that a sage says is necessarily sacrosanct.  Like anything else, it has to be evaluated in terms of its message, historical context and the like.  In short, I no longer take anything as irrefutable dogma simply on someone’s say so.  That’s is not all to say that there are no irrefutable dogmas, universal truths or articles of faith -- but it is important to be able to make a distinction between a true article of faith, a halachic ruling that may or may not apply to our current situation, a midrash which may or may not be historically true, or a simple, personal observation of a sage.  Lumping them all together as inviolate “Torah” does a great disservice to both the Torah and to those sages.  But to be able to do make these distinctions, you need to begin to think critically about what you’re learning.  You need to learn not to blindly accept everything within the canon as absolute truth.  In short, to do this, you need to stop drinking the Kool Aid -- and that's what I've been doing.  I've spent a long time expunging the Kool Aid that I built up in my system over the years -- and I believe that I am, today, a healthier person and a better Jew for it.

The Wolf

* I don’t mean “obsolescence” in terms of “should be discarded” but in terms of not currently applicable.  In this context, the halacha of egla arufa, for example, would be termed as “obsolete,” but I am not, God forbid, suggesting that it be excised from the Torah or no longer studied.  Likewise, it should be (and widely is) recognized that the reasons behind the institution of the second day of Yom Tov are obsolete... but again, I am not advocating changing the halacha to eliminate that second day.

Thursday, March 03, 2011

The Yeshiva's Minhag Over Your Family's?

A Jewish wedding ceremony, like many other religious rites and ceremonies, is governed by many laws and customs.  One such instance is the period of yichud -- seclusion -- that the bride and groom spend together right after the chuppah

It should be pointed out, however, that this is *only* the case for Ashkenazim.  When a Sefardi couple gets married, they do not go to the yichud room.  For them, yichud is performed when the couple goes home after the ceremony.  In fact, Rav Yitzchock Yosef considers the idea of a yichud room during the wedding so repugnant that he called it "ugly" and "vulgar."  I don't think it's proper for a Rav to call a mainstream Ashkenazi minhag "ugly" and "vulgar" I made my point on that in the linked post)-- but that's really beside the point.  The main point for our purposes is that there are strong opposition in at least some Sephardi circles against the practice of going into the yichud room.

With this background information, we can look at a recent event.  Rafi, over at Life In Israel, reports on a recent wedding where a Sephardi couple was married.  The chosson attended an Ashkenazi yeshiva and his Rosh Yeshiva and friends from the Yeshiva were in attendance.  The Rosh Yeshiva directed that the chosson and kallah should go immediately after chuppah to the yichud room, in accordance with the Ashkenazic custom.  The chosson refused, intending to follow the custom of his family and the new bride's family.  When the chosson refused, the Rosh Yeshiva announced that he was leaving and ordered all the bochrim from the yeshiva to leave with him.  Fortunately, Rav Raphael Cohen, a guest at the wedding knew someone at a local Sephardi yeshiva, where they had the boys stop learning and go be mesameach (make merry with dancing) the chosson and kallah.

To me, there are some very troubling aspects to this story:

1.  Since when does the minhag of the yeshiva overrule the family minhag of the bride and groom?  Do they also expect their Sephardi students to refrain from eating kitniyos on Pesach in their homes?  Would they say that it's all right for an Ashkenzi student attending a Sephardi yeshiva to skip the yichud room?  I don't think so.  Minhagim have long been observed on the basis of inheriting them from your family, not on the basis of what yeshiva you attend.  Perhaps there is some basis after all to the fear that some Sephardim in Israel have that their minhagim and other cultural attributes are being slowly eroded by the Ashkenazim.

2.  Ultimately, a wedding is valid, even according to Ashkenazim, if the chosson and kallah never go into the yichud room during the wedding.  As long as there are witnesses that they went home together (and were alone together) after the wedding, the wedding would be 100% valid.  On the other hand, embarrassing the bride, groom and their families is a transgression of a Torah prohibition.  How could the Rosh Yeshiva possibly think that his custom (or the custom of his yeshiva, if you will) possibly overrides that?

The Wolf

UPDATE (3/17/11):  A commentator has offered an alternate version of the events.  I have no way of knowing which is true or not, so take your pick.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Against Ban Harassment & Threats

This is a joint statement by many bloggers about the recent ban on VIN and the actions taken against VIN and the companies that advertise on the site.  Kudos to R. Gil Student for drafting this statement and to the other bloggers who were primarily responsible for pushing the effort forward.


A little over a month ago, a number of rabbis signed onto a ban that forbade advertising on or otherwise working with the website VosIzNeias. This ban singled out one website without addressing other websites or public forums like newspapers or magazines. The singling out of a solitary website raises many questions, particularly when newspapers in the same community regularly publish arguably libelous stories and online discussion forums for the community are essentially unbounded by civility. Additionally, VosIzNeias has publicly stated that it has already raised its standards and is willing to do even more with rabbinic guidance, provided the same guidelines are applied to its competitors.

Bans of this nature are generally brought into fruition by activists and this one is attributed to a specific activist who seems to have business and political interests in this ban. He ignored VosIzNeias’ request to meet with the rabbis in order to explore ways to satisfy their concerns. With this ban, the activist is threatening the commercial viability of the VosIzNeias business.

We have now received reports of continued harassment by this activist, who is threatening to publicly denounce people, companies and charitable organizations who continue to cooperate with the website. He has also reportedly threatened to remove the kosher certification of companies that fail to adhere to the ban. However, on being contacted, the activist behind the ban denied all knowledge of this harassment and attributed it to someone acting without authorization. We are, therefore, making no formal accusation as to who is conducting this campaign of harassment.

To the best of our understanding, this activity is illegal. One individual told us he reported that harassment to the police.

Harassing good people with threats is illegal and inexcusable. We call on rabbis and people of good faith to denounce this behavior, and we encourage victims to respond to this activist as follows:

If he calls or e-mails you or your organization, thank him for bringing the ban to your attention and say that you will decide how to proceed after consulting with your rabbi or other advisor. And because of rumors that there is harassment involved in this matter, you regret having to tell him that if he contacts you or anyone else in your organization again, you will have to report him to the police.

We have a copy of an e-mail forwarded to us by people involved, which includes a pseudonym and phone number, and we have been told of intimidating phone calls. Note that at this time we are withholding this activist's identity. If he continues harassing people, we will have to be less discrete.

Signed,

The Wolf (along with many other Jewish bloggers)

If you agree, please feel free to sign in the comment section and post this on your blog as well.

Friday, February 11, 2011

No, Rabbi, They Don't Need A Guilt Trip.

An interesting article appeared in the Palm Beach Post about a Florida Chabad House that has filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection.  According to Rabbi Shlomo Ezagui, the wealthy patrons who used to fund the Chabad House stopped contributing when the market crashed in 2008.  Now that the market is up, however, the contributions have not resumed. 

Part of the problem is that the business model of the Chabad House makes it dependent on contributions.  According to Robert Furr, the bankruptcy attorney for the Chabad House, Chabad Houses do not charge regular membership dues like many other shuls do. This leaves voluntary member donations as the main source of funding for the Chabad House.  Anyone who runs an organization financed primarily by donations from the wealthy must be aware that when an economic downturn happens (and it always *will* happen -- markets tend are cyclical), that voluntary donations will drop off as well.  I don't know if Rabbi Ezagui curtailed his operations when the recession hit (so as to slow down his burn-rate) or salted away some of the donations from the good years for the lean years (a lesson learned from Joseph), but at this point, he has run out of money and has loans that are due. 

What struck me most about the article was Rabbi Ezagui's sense of entitlement to the charity dollars of others.  Here's the money quote (pun intended):


Ezagui said wealthy people are making excuses not to give.

"The Jewish people who have the money should feel a guilt trip.  They have plenty of money," he said. "I see them in their Rolls Royces, I go to their million-dollar houses and they say, 'I don't have the money, Rabbi.' "

 Apparently, Rabbi Ezagui does not understand that sometimes one can be what is colloquially referred to as "house-poor."  A person can have a lot of their wealth tied up in non-liquid assets that are not easy to dispose of or leverage for additional cash.  In addition, even if someone has a million-dollar home that is completely paid for, you have to take into account that they are actually living there.  So, what is Rabbi Ezagui asking them to do?  Sell the home and move to fund a Chabad House?  Borrow against it to fund a Chabad House?  Do either of those sound realistic or fiscally responsible?

But hey, let's even say (for the sake of argument) that they have cash sitting around.  Even so, Rabbi Ezagui is *still* wrong.  No one *owes* a contribution to the Chabad House.  The last time I checked, people are free to give their tzedaka money to any charity that they wish.  They certainly don't have to give to the Chabad House, nor do they need to be made to feel guilty about where they choose to contribute. 

I known nothing about this particular Chabad House.  For all I know, they are a very worthy institution where wonderous work is done in Jewish outreach.  For all I know, Rabbi Ezagui may be a tireless worker working to bring Yiddishkeit to the masses of Palm Beach.  But he has to learn two things: 

1.  He has to find a new business model that does not rely so heavily on donations from wealthy patrons and is not as susceptable to economic downturns.

2.  His organization is not automatically entitled to other people's money.  He has to learn that there are other competitors for people's money, which include discretionary spending, other charitable options or even basic necessities.  No one needs to feel guilty because they don't contribute to *his* cause.

The Wolf

Monday, January 31, 2011

Photos: Yellow Tulip

Here's a shot that I took a short while ago.



Canon XSi, 100mm macro lens, f/16, 4 seconds.


Believe it or not, this shot was much easier to capture than you might otherwise imagine.  If anyone's interested in how it's done, feel free to drop me an email.

You'll notice that I used an aperture of f/16.  I did this because I wanted to make sure that the picture was going to be in focus from front to back.  Of course, because I used a narrow aperture, I had to use a longer shutter speed -- in this case, I left the shutter open for four seconds. And yes, I used a tripod.  :)

As always, comments, critiques and criticisms are welcome, encouraged and appreciated.

The Wolf


To see all my photo posts, click HERE

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Ask Yourself This Before Reciting Parshas HaMon Today...

Before you go reciting Parshas HaMon today to get a segulah for a good parnassah, I want you to stop and ask yourself this question:

If you've decided to take five minutes from your day to do what you feel is necessary for a good parnassah, which do you think is a better use of your time -- reciting Parshas HaMon, or opening your heart to your Father in Heaven and asking His help in providing for your needs and your family's needs?

I have no objection to prayer -- on the contrary, I think prayer is a wonderful thing.  With prayer, a person has the ability to beseech God for anything and everything.  It gives you the opportunity to open your heart and become closer to HaShem.  With prayer, you have the opportunity to express true emotion.  Do you need a refuah from a sickness?  You can pray for that.  Do  you need help supporting your family?  You can pray for that.  Do you need comfort in times of crisis and anguish?  You can pray for that.  Do you really need to convert the 7-10 split?  You can even pray for that too.  For anything from the most important to the most trivial, He is never too busy to receive your prayers.  You may not always get what you ask for, but nonetheless, He is there.

But why is prayer so important?  After all, God has no need our prayers.  Our praying to Him doesn't change Him in any way whatsoever.  So, why does He ask it of us?  Why do we engage in it? 

One answer that I've often seen given is that prayer is not for God's benefit, but for ours.  The word "to pray," in Hebrew is l'hispallel.  This word is reflexive in nature, connoting something that one does to (or for) oneself.  In other words, we don't pray to God for His benefit, we pray for *our* benefit.  We are meant to be moved and changed by our prayers, hopefully for the better.  We are meant to come to the understanding that God is the source of all of our blessings.  We are meant to better understant that He is the one who provides us with life, health, parnassah and the ability to convert the 7-10 split.  So, when I pour my heart out to God for whatever it is that's important to me at the moment, I'm not just asking him for something.... I'm (hopefully) acknowledging and understand that He is the source of the good in the world.  By praying to Him for parnassah, I hope to become closer to Him.

A while ago, a blogger (who has long since disappeared, but thoughtfully left his blog up) came up with the term Vending Machine Judaism to descirbe the way segulos are "sold" and done by the public today.  In his words:

My main beef with the segulah explosion we're witnessing, is that it cheapens Judaism. I've used the term Vending Machine Judaism before, and I think it's the perfect description of the new religion we're creating. Basically, God is a giant vending machine. We stand in front of it, see what we want, press a button, and we expect to get it. Need a shidduch? Say Shir haShirm. Parnasah? Say Parshas Ha'mon. Can't find your keyes? Give money to R' Meir Baal Ha'Ness.

This is turning religion into nothing more than a means to an end. It's a selfish version of Judaism, as in "How can I use God to get exactly what I want"?

This is, to my understanding, the antithesis of prayer.  By *expecting* that God will grant you favor because you do X (especially where there is no commandment to do X), you do the exact opposite of prayer.  Instead of drawing you closer to God and making you appreciate Him, it causes you to think of Him as some cosmic vending machine.  Instead of beseeching, you come to expect and demand.  Instead of being forced to engage in internal contemplation and soul-searching, you simply expect to recite a paragraph by rote and receive what you deserve.

So, think about this before you invest five minutes in the recitation of Parshas HaMon today, and ask yourself this question:  if you're going to invest five minutes of the day in pursuit of turning to Him for help in parnassah, how do you think He would rather you spend those five minutes -- in rote recitation of a paragraph, or in emotional prayer from the heart?

The Wolf

Thursday, December 30, 2010

Photos: What Is It? The Answer!

Earlier this week, I posted a photo and asked people to guess what was the subject of the photo.  Here again is the photo:



Canon XSi, 65mm macro lens (5x magnification), f/11, 20 seconds.

The answer is that the photo is the middle of this flower:



The first Anonymous poster said "a plant." While that's technically true, it is very vague. "Fort," however, was the first person to come up with the correct, specific answer -- the inner part of a flower. So, he wins the 20 Wolfish Points. :)

The Wolf

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Photos: What Is It? Take A Guess!

I took this picture this week. 20 Wolfish points to the first one who can guess what it is.


I'll put up the lens, exposure settings, etc. with the solution later this week.

The Wolf

(My RL friends who have seen the photo already are not eligible. :) )

Monday, December 27, 2010

With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

There are many that have said that the recent bans promulgated by the Gedolim (i.e. Rabbi Slifkin, the Lipa concert, The Making of a Gadol and now Vos Iz Neias among others) have caused the stature of the Gedolim to become far less relevant and important today.  To some extent, that is true -- the mishandling of some of these bans has exposed the flaws in the process of some of their recent halachic rulings and has damaged the reputation of the Gedolim among the general populace. 

Nonetheless, as evidenced by what happened with some of the cases mentioned above, the Gedolim still can be said to have enormous power.  They can bring pressure to bear on people and events which can lead to loss of money, public embarrassment and communal shunning.  The ability to bring such pressure to bear is an enormous power -- one that must be wielded with extreme care.  I would think that if one has the ability to wreck a person's life, that ability should only be wielded with extreme care and great trepidation.  The power to do such is a great power -- and, as Uncle Ben reminded Spider-Man, with great power comes great responsibility.

Do the Gedolim have a responsibility to us?  I believe they do.  Any leader has a responsibility to the people that he or she leads.  If a Gadol (or anyone else for that matter) is going to assume the power to greatly affect the lives of others, then he must be responsible to make sure that that power is used wisely and appropriately.  There must be safeguards, checks and balances to make sure that the power is being used properly -- and those wielding the power must be responsible to make sure that those safeguards, checks and balances are in place.

Sadly, today, there are no such checks and balances.  We have recently seen how the current edifice of halachic decision making is flawed and that the leaders (perhaps unintentionally, but still disasterously) have shirked their responsibilities.   Those responsibilities include the following:

The responsibility to adequately investigate the facts and circumstances before making a ruling.


If a Gadol is going to issue a ruling that will impact a person (and all the more so if the impact is going to cause a severe loss of money or prestige), he has a responsibility to independently investigate the circumstances surrounding the case.  This includes contacting the people affected and giving them a chance to adequately respond.

We saw this responsibility cast aside numerous times.  The Gedolim who signed on the ban against Lipa's concert were told that there was going to be mixed dancing (among other misinformation) at the event.  At no point did any of the Gedolim who signed on the ban even so much as pick up a phone and call Lipa or one of the event organizers to determine if this was true (it wasn't -- there wasn't even going to be mixed seating).  The same thing occurred with Rabbi Slifkin -- he was phoned (not by any of the Gedolim who signed on the ban against his books) and told that he had hours to retract his books and was not given any real chance to respond.  In addition, the ban against his books was signed, in many cases, by those who did not even read the book.

Another aspect of this responsibility is the responsibility to not simply rely on the signature of another Gadol when deciding whether or not to sign on to a halachic decision of considerable importance, scope and effect.  If Gadol X signs on a document, I should have the right to assume that Gadol X has actually looked into the matter and came to the decision himself.  If, however, Gadol X is signing on the document only because Gadol Y signed, then what is really the value of the signature?  To say that he trusts Gadol Y?  We already knew that he probably did.  In the end, you get documents where twenty or thirty Gedolim sign, but only one or two probably actually gave any real, serious thought to the decision at hand.  If so, is it really twenty or thirty Gedolim issuing a decision?  No it's not -- it's merely one or two making the decision.  In the end, however, I believe that if a Gadol is going to sign on a document, they have an absolute responsibility to investigate the matter for themselves.  If I'm to be told to obey a document because Gadol X signed, I have the right to be assured that Gadol X actually did his due diligence to investigate the case -- and not rely on the word of a third party -- even that of a fellow Gadol.

A Gadol has, in my humble opinion, an absolute responsibility to do his utmost to ascertain the facts of a situation before issuing a ruling on it.  It's not reasonable to expect a Gadol to get every fact correct every time -- they are only human and sometimes mistakes will be made -- but they must do their absolute best to make sure they have the facts of the situation before issuing a ruling. If the Gedolim are going to fail in their responsibility to investigate the facts (including all sides), then how can we have a responsibility to listen to their words?

The responsibility to avoid even the appearance of manipulation by those with agendas.

If a Gadol's ruling is to have any meaning, it must be clear that it is a fair ruling.  If people perceive that the ruling was manipulated or engineered by those who have a particular axe to grind or agenda to push, many people will simply ignore the ruling.

I find it extremely ironic that a Dayan (judge) in a Bais Din must take great pains to figuratively bend over backwards to avoid even the appearance of manipulation or favoritism in a court case involving a lousy five dollars, but when it comes to public policy that affect wide swaths of the community on a far grander scale, no such impartiality is enforced.  It will all too well known that many of the now-infamous halachic decisions that have been handed down lately (including, according to several reports, the recent ban on Vos Iz Neias) were engineered by parties with a particular political, monetary or ideological grudges against others.  It is, in my humble opinion, the absolute responsibility of a Gadol to make sure that his decisions are not only arrived at in a fair manner without undue influence, but that they also don't even have the appearance of manipulation by insiders or outsiders.  If a simple five-dollar case in Bais Din requires this, I would think that it's a no-brainer that major halachic and public policy decisions requires the same -- and in this, the Gedolim have failed.

The responsibility to clearly elucidate their rulings including defining the parameters of those rulings, the process of how the question came before them and the process of how they arrived at their decisions.


A Gadol who issues a ruling has a responsibility to make the ruling as transparent as possible.  That includes not only clearly defining the parameters of his ruling (i.e. in what circumstances does it apply and under what circumstances does it not apply), but also on what facts and assumptions the ruling relies, how he came to make the ruling in the first place (this is a part of maintaining the appearance of independence from manipulation) and upon which sources he relies to make his rulings.  The saying "sunshine is the best disinfectant" is wholly applicable here -- a Gadol who is not being manipulated by others and is making his best effort to issue a correct ruling has no reason to fear being completely transparent about the factors that go into his decision.  Allowing people to see how the decision was arrived at will increase people's confidence that the ruling is impartial and correctly arrived at.

The responsibility to ensure that their rulings can be verified by the general public.

Rav Elyashiv has been famously quoted as saying that there are so many rulings being issued in his name that are not, in fact, from him that unless you hear from him directly (or see it in a responsible Torah journal or legitimate sefer) that you can assume it's false.

While I can applaud Rav Elyashiv for his honesty in this matter, I believe that he (and other Gedolim) have absolutely abdicated a fundamental responsibility that accompanies power -- the responsibility to ensure that forgeries are not issued in their name.

This is something that is extremely important.  The government takes great pains to try to shut down counterfeiters -- not necessarily because their efforts might devalue the currency (although that can be a factor) but also because counterfeiters, by definition, usurp power that the government alone has -- the power to print currency.  Likewise, one of the most carefully guarded objects of rulers of old was their signet rings and seals -- not because they liked to wear rings or have pretty designs made in wax -- but because such objects actually conveyed power to those who wielded them.  If you saw an edict sealed with seal of the king, such an edict was extremely likely to be obeyed, whether the king actually endorsed the edict or not.   It's not for no reason that the writer of Megillas Esther focuses on the fact that the king gave his ring to Haman -- the one who wielded the ring truly wielded the power.  A ruler or leader who does not actively take steps to find, stop and punish those who wrongly usurp their power is no true leader, since it is difficult (if not impossible) to determine which of their edicts are proper and legal.

While the Gedolim may not have signet rings and seals, they have, in my humble opinion, utterly failed at the responsibility to protect the validity of their rulings.  By allowing word of their rulings to spread by word of mouth and broadsheet, they allow far too many opportunities for other people to either put their own spin on their rulings or, worse, make up rulings for them out of whole cloth. 

I find it utterly incomprehensible that in today's day and age, we still disseminate rabbinical rulings by word of mouth and by posters plastered on walls.  Oddly enough, I think that the World Wide Web is an ideal medium for the Gedolim to issue their rulings.  If a Gadol had his own website under his firm control, he could post his rulings there -- and people would be able to be reasonably confident that the ruling was, in fact, issued by the Gadol who owns the site.  In addition since "space" and "paper" are not true issues on the Web, the Gadol can expand on his ruling as much as necessary to cover some of the other points I made in this post. Even if the Gadol in question did not want to get involved with the Web, there is always the option of having an automated telephone system where people can call and hear a recording of the Gadol saying something to the effect of "yes, I issued this ruling, these are the parameters, this is how I came to the decision, etc.  The Gadol, of course, would have to be vigilant in ensuring that only content he approves of goes up on the site or the telephone system (the site/telephone system, in effect, becomes his signet-ring) - but as I mentioned earlier, an essential part of having the power to issue rulings is the responsibility to protect the integrity of those rulings.  Failure to do so results in an open invitation to having the very validity of the rulings he issues questioned, disregarded and, ultimately, ignored.

The responsibility to be able to make independent decisions regardless of the personal consequences and free from communal pressure.

This responsibility is perhaps the most important responsibility that a Gadol has and yet, at the same time, the one that may be the hardest for him to make because of the potential personal cost involved.

In the United States, justices to the Supreme Court are appointed and, failing any misconduct on their part, maintain their positions for life.  There is an important reason for this lifetime appointment -- the need to maintain an independent judiciary.  It is vitally important that, if a decision is to be a correct one (meaning free of political pressures and based strictly upon the law and his or her interpretation of it) then it is important that they not be subject to recall based on those decisions.  You may argue with how successful the implementation of this has been (both conservatives and liberals can probably quote numerous cases where they feel that judges ruled based on their political biases rather than the law*), but the principle is sound.  When a correct decision needs to be made, it has to be free from political pressure.

This also needs to apply to the Gedolim as well.  If a Gadol is going to issue a ruling, it is his responsibility (as I mentioned above) to ensure that the ruling is fair and not manipulated or engineered.  However, it also has to be free from personal considerations as well, including those of power and prestige.

Unfortunately, it is all too apparent that in many cases, Gedolim sometimes make decisions because it's the popular decision to make and one that will appease the masses.  Jonathan Rosenblum, in an article about a year ago, made the point very clearly.  In discussing why there would be no public statement regarding a possible change in communal policy, he says the following:

There is another reason that there will be no such public statements. Any such statement would be met with vicious attacks by the “kenaim,” who would say about the gadol in question precisely what KollelGuy asks me: Who are you? The Chazon Ish did not say what you are saying; Rav Shach did not say it.” Perhaps KollelGuy remembers the attacks on one of the Sages he mentions for his tacit support of Nahal Chareidi. (Even Rav Shach used to say that he was afraid of the stone-throwers.) One of the members of the Moetzes Gedolei HaTorah of the United States told me recently that the gedolim cannot even discuss questions surrounding poverty because if they did the “street” would just label them fake gedolim.

In other words, there are cases where the Gedolim are afraid to make a correct ruling (or public policy decision) because it would mean the possible loss of their positions as Gedolim.   Even if you put aside the fact that this causes their rulings to smack of corruption (even if there is, in fact, no corruption in any particular ruling), this undermines the whole point of having Gedolim determine public policy to begin with.  Of what value is there to have a Gadol make a determination if there is a possibility that the determination is rooted in his fear of being labeled a "fake Gadol?"  Aren't we relying on them to give us true rulings?  If their rulings can be influenced by "the street," then how can anyone trust their rulings?

I'll admit that it's not easy to ask any person (Gadol or not) to put their positions on the line when they are faced with making an unpopular ruling.  But part of being a true and responsible leader is to take responsibility for your leadership decisions.  If the cost of a true ruling is the loss of personal power and prestige (i.e. by being labeled a "fake Gadol") then perhaps that's the price you must pay.  If a person is going to accept the awesome responsibility to wield the power to ruin lives, then he must also be willing to take the responsibility to stand up and assure the people that his decision is correct, even if it comes with personal consequences.  Failure to do so simply means that the inmates are running the asylum.

If one is going to posit that the Gedolim have the power to make important communal and halachic decisions and that we, the general populace, have a responsibility to follow their decisions, then they have a responsibility to make sure that their rulings are factual, informed, fair, honest, clear, verifiable and free from manipulations, agendas and communal pressure.

The Wolf



*  But then again, if both sides feel this way, perhaps it's right after all...

Friday, December 10, 2010

Photos: Autumn Highway

Back in October, I spent a day up in Harriman State Park, taking pictures of the fall foliage. Here's one of the shots I took that day:



Canon Xsi, 39mm, f/5, 1/60 second.

As always, comments, critiques and criticisms are welcomed and appreciated.

The Wolf