Opinion: Rabbinical malpractice

Evaluating the actions of our leaders

By Howard Kopel

Issue of Sept. 26, 2008

It’s that time of year when the timeless rhythms of Judaism take over our lives and carry us along in its currents. The kids’ rebbeim and rabbis in their pulpits have been talking about Chodesh Elul and teshuva in preparation for the Yomim Noraim. We are used to it and many of us tend to simply fall into line and march along without too much thought or introspection.

It seems to me that the great bulk of the exhortation that comes our way tends to be of the variety that either urges us to daven more carefully and fervently, to give more tzedakah to our yeshivot and to be more diligent in observation of the mitzvot. We hear lectures on hilchot yom tov with emphasis on specialized requirements of the season, such as etrog and succah. This is all entirely appropriate, yet I can’t help but wonder if it is off the mark, missing the messages that we need to hear most.

I recall, as a high school boy, hearing weekly mussar lectures delivered by a famous Rav who wrote books and often touched on these issues. We were told that we were privileged to be able to hear him so often. Maybe so. I once went over and asked him if he could explain a bit better not just what we needed to do, but why we needed to do it. He was scandalized and sent me to the principal (an American born PhD, rather unusual for the time), who told me that such questions were inappropriate and should be kept to myself. I recounted the incident to my mother, who said that she had received the same response as a young woman growing up in Brooklyn — “Men toh nisht fregen” — we are not allowed to ask such questions.

I found it hard to believe that no one else had questions; that would be sad. Forty years after graduating high school, it seems to me that little has changed for the better, and much has become worse.

A seminal essay published in Tradition Magazine in 1994 by Rabbi Haym Soloveitchik entitled  “Rupture and Reconstruction” concludes that the Yirat Shamayim that was ever present in the European shtetl does not really exist here and now, having been replaced by rulebooks and by a strong emphasis on halacha and chumra to a degree previously unknown. This has led to some incredibly perverse results. We have genuine crises that can cause irreversible schisms in Judaism, such as the debates over conversion and divorce, not to mention horrible suffering imposed on innocent people who have been virtually abandoned by most orthodox rabbis. I do not believe that our rabbis of yesteryear could have tolerated these situations and I do believe that they would have found solutions. After all, solutions were found to issues far less critical to the very survival of Judaism. We keep chametz on Pesach, carry on Shabbos, lend money and charge interest, etc.

All these heterim have a basis in halacha, but is it really possible that halacha allows things like that but demands the destruction of lives and rupture of Judaism, with no possible solution? Is it more important to spend time learning how to set up ingenious new ways to boil water on Shabbos kehalacha, or to outlaw Jewish concerts (disclosure: Sheya Mendlowitz is my brother) than to solve these and other incredibly important problems? Are we neglecting teaching our children proper midot and even common kavod for other people? Are we, perhaps, witnessing Rabbinical malpractice on an unprecedented scale?

Another incident: several years ago my wife and I attended a sheva brachot dinner where the conversation, strangely enough for the setting, turned to the problem of agunot. The general opinion of those sitting near us was, naturally, outrage at the plight of women unable to secure their freedom from evil men who demand money or impose other equally reprehensible conditions for a get. The question was, logically, raised as to why our gedolim somehow cannot seem to muster the same degree of ingenuity, let alone enthusiasm, solving this problem as shown in solving other, seemingly less pressing  halachic problems.

We happened to be sitting near a Rosh Yeshiva of a mid-sized bais medrash. This worthy man, having overheard the conversation, felt compelled to deliver his opinion that not only could nothing be done, but that the entire issue was being over-dramatized. After all, he said, how many people are affected at a given time? A few hundred at the most, perhaps even a thousand or two. Big deal! Why were people exercised over so trivial an issue?

My wife and I (and, surely others present) left with an enduring memory of that night. Certainly, I don’t claim, or even think, that so callous an attitude is the rule. However, I fear that this particular Rosh Yeshiva’s cold, legalistic and therefore unsympathetic approach is also far from unique.

When Yeshayahu promised that we were to be a light unto the nations, did he envision that the world would be jealous at the astronomical sums that some people spend on etrogim or shtraimels? Isn’t it a bit more likely that he dreamt that the nations would admire a people that lived by Hillel’s famous dictum that the greatest thing in the Torah is to love one’s neighbor as one’s self?

Halacha is unquestionably important, but it seems that we were repeatedly warned against precisely the kind of life we appear to be living. Yeshayahu said “Bring no more vain offerings; it is an offering of abomination unto Me; new moon and sabbath, the holding of convocations — I cannot endure iniquity along with the solemn assembly.” Enjoining us to better ourselves, he tells us how to do it — no extra fasting or davening required. Instead we are told “Learn to do well; seek justice, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow.” Micah likewise asks what Hashem requires of us and answers that we are merely to “do right, love goodness and walk humbly with Hashem.”

I fear we are becoming more “frum” and less just. There are numerous websites, not to mention widely circulating jokes poking fun at our increasingly hidebound and often hypocritical practices. These come from members of our community and often from people apparently quite learned. Right or wrong, respect for the Rabbinate is at low ebb in many quarters. There are, of course, always apologists reflexively defending gedolim as people who understand things better than we do, are inherently correct due to their “Das Torah,” and brand any criticism as practically heretical. I suggest that smart people make mistakes too, and lose sight of what is really important. We do not have a Pope, infallible by doctrine. Our religion, to our credit, has always recognized the failings of our great leaders. Why stop now?

In many ways, the 17-year-old remains a part of me and still wants to ask our leaders: “What should our priorities be, and why?” And, as long as we are talking, I would ask them, “What are your priorities as Rabbis and why?”

Obviously, not all are guilty. There are voices in the wilderness crying out for change. In my own little world I have seen notable examples of courageous voices concentrating on bein adam l’chaveiro. Obviously there are others. But they are not carrying the day.

I wish all my friends and readers a G’mar Chasima Tovah.

Howard Kopel is a real estate lawyer and CEO of Sutton Alliance, a diversified Title Insurance and real estate services company. He can be reached at (516) 837-6103, hkopel@suttonalliance.com.