David Seidemann: The fifth son

Opinion: From the other side of the bench

By David Seidemann

Issue of March 20, 2009 / 24 Adar 5769

The faithful come in four types, in my experience.

There are those who carry on their daily routine without seeking any guidance from their clergy, a dangerous course both for themselves and those they interact with. Others ask their rabbi everything –– not necessarily dangerous, though all those questions can be dangerously unnecessary. A third subgroup of the faithful asks appropriate questions to appropriately qualified rabbis. This is by far the best path and is probably representative of the norm.

But there is a fourth group of those seeking guidance, advice and direction who rely upon rabbis (or priests or ministers and so forth) whom might be well versed in the texts, but are ill equipped to deal with context.

This column is not meant to disparage religious leaders, the majority of whom are eminently qualified to dispense advice in a multitude of areas. However, I do intend to highlight that a true religious leader knows when to reach out to other professionals to augment and supplement the information he is processing in order to properly help a congregant maneuver through the vicissitudes of life.

This is not heresy. The Talmud recognizes that certain rabbis are more proficient than others in certain areas of law. Jewish law acknowledges whose ruling takes precedence in a health-related dispute between a rabbi and a doctor. The Talmud itself lists the qualities a rabbi must possess before one is permitted to seek advice from him.

I’m not referring to the clear and obvious distinction between the “movers and shakers” versus the “fakers and takers.” We all know or should know of the fakers and takers and should eschew contact with them. I am referring to real, authentic sages who nevertheless render decisions without synthesizing all of the relevant information and viewing issues in context, including the petitioner’s stage of life.

My grandfather, a revered Torah sage in Germany and here in America would often say “it’s a lot easier to ‘paskan treif’ than ‘paskan kosher.’”

Loosely translated, that means it’s much easier and requires less critical analysis of Jewish law to say that something is “forbidden,” than to analyze the relevant law, apply it to the particular circumstances of the time and find a permissible precedence in Jewish law, to bring another Jew into the fold.

I do not advocate breaking existing laws or customs or creating new ones. Instead, I believe that the truly effective rabbi is one who either sees the whole picture himself or knows that the whole picture requires that he consult with lawyers, doctors, psychologists or other professionals before arriving at a decision.

In my work, I have witnessed devastating consequences when rabbis or clergy of other faiths have dispensed legal or psychological advice to divorcing couples. The professionals then have to come in and undo the good intentioned but poorly premised advice of the clergy.

I would stress that these episodes are few, but annoying. I also wish to point out that in our community we are blessed with a few rabbis who have totally synthesized all of the above and see the whole picture. They are invaluable both to couples and lawyers in resolving matrimonial disputes. As in the past, they continue to work with professionals in formulating the substance and manner of delivery of their rulings.

There is also another layer of “interference” that must be reckoned with. Often, the greater the scholar, the more “handlers” he has. This is true in both Chassidish and Litvish, or non-Chassidic, circles. The information a scholar might receive therefore is second-hand and sometimes third-hand. It does not incorporate context and pretext. Because the questioner is not present, human psychology cannot be properly employed.

We note that our liturgy speaks of four types of sons at the Seder. But there is a fifth son to be concerned about. And that is the son who is absent from the Seder. There is a son who has not been reached because context and pretext have been absent from the halachic rulings he has encountered.

Reaching this fifth son sometimes requires new approaches that only a sorrowfully few leaders are bold enough to employ. The old vanguard’s resistance to changes in approach (as opposed to abrogation of principles, which I do not advocate) is leaving many “fifth sons” excluded.

When a Chassidic leader prohibits a new approach because it is untraditional, he should remember that all of Chassidus was unconventional when it began.

When a Litvish leader objects to a new approach because it is too emotional, he should be more cognizant of the fact that too many of our yeshiva students suffer from A.D.D. –– autopilot davening disorder –– and that sorely missing from their curriculum is an emotional connection to our heritage.

I am sure that this article will stir some debate and perhaps criticism. It is not meant as an indictment of our leaders. Rather it is an appeal to our sages to examine context and pretext in both the message of their rulings and the method of delivery so that the fifth son will find his way to the Seder table.

I met with a “fifth son” this past week. He told me that drug and alcohol parties are commonplace, every weekend, among our youth. They are commonplace among Chassidim, the Litvish, the Yeshivish, Ashkenazim, Sefardim, Modern Orthodox, etc. He knows this because he and his friends are regulars. Closing our eyes does not mean it does not exist.