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All Questions Answered by
Rabbi Benjamin Hecht Question: If someone has a good job in America and making Aliya means that he will earn significantly less money, what should be done in view of the obligation to live in the land (haaretz).
So too, what should be done if a spouse does not want to make Aliyah and objects?
While there is clearly a value in living in the land of Israel, the issue of whether there is an obligation to do so is actually a most complex one. The divergence of opinion ranges from whether there is ever any such obligation to live in the land or whether it is solely a meritorious good deed, for which one is rewarded, but still not obligated. Historical setting would also seem to be a factor in this regard with opinions arguing that it is obligatory in certain historical situations, such as when the Temples were existent, but not in other circumstances, such as when the nation is in a diaspora. (There are even some minority views which do not recognize any value in living in Israel in such circumstances but they are truly limited.)
A similar factor within this discussion is whether an obligation to live in Israel may solely apply to one already dwelling in the land. The halachic manifestation of such a view would thus be that one who is already living in Israel would not, except under certain specific circumstances, be allowed to leave Israel to dwell elsewhere (or, according to some, even to leave temporarily) but that one who is not living in Israel has no obligation to move there. The bottom line is, though, that, in terms of your question, how one should decide between a good job in America and an obligation to live in Israel is a non-starter; according to most views, there is no such obligation. The question should thus be: how does one balance the value of living in Israel with a reality that this will negatively impact on one’s financial standard of living?
This question is actually a subset of the broader question: how does one assess the observance of any Torah value which has a negative impact on one’s standard of living? In regard to obligations, the answer is much more straightforward; one, for example, cannot take a job that includes the violation of Shabbat even if it has higher wages. In general, though, how is one to balance such concerns when the observance of the Torah value is not as obligatory. For example, should one spend less hours at work – and thus earn less – in order to spend more time learning Torah? The answer, ultimately, is very personal and must take into consideration the effect upon others, such as family, and the effect on the overall nature of the person. Standard of living affects one’s psychological and physical well-being and, in this regard, is very personal. What is a luxury for one person is a necessity for another and, as such, it is important that one knows his/her individual needs as they are factors in decisions of this nature that must consider a person’s well-being. Of course, the observance of the Torah value itself – in this case, living in Israel -- must also be a factor in this balancing consideration. As such, in answer to the question of how one should balance the value of living in Israel with a higher paying job in America, it is a personal decision. One must consider the negative consequences of the lower standard of living on one’s family and oneself – including psychological impact – with the personal effect born of the value of living in Israel, and then make the decision that is wisest for the self in all regards. This is not a justification of luxury – and we hope that a consideration of Torah values would inherently challenge overt hedonism – but a consideration of our honest personal needs as a person. One must also consider how this may impact other Torah values such as Torah study or caring for parents.
Similar concerns as noted above also apply in the case of a spouse not willing to move to Israel. While the gemara in T.B. Ketubot 110a seems to simply state that a spouse can force another spouse to make Aliyah, it is obvious that the gemara does not mean that one can physically force another in this regard. The context is the marital relationship and what we are discussing here are the issues that must be considered when there is a disagreement between husband and wife in this regard. It again is personal and demands that a decision should emerge from the functioning state and desired status of the relationship.
What the gemara is thus informing us is that the value of living in Israel should simply be given great weight in such a discussion. The message is that two people, wishing to be together and facing such an issue should lean towards moving to Israel (although other value issues must also be considered) The question then ensues, though, regarding what should happen if one is willing to give up the relationship rather than move to Israel. The spouse wishing to live in Israel can, of course, still decide to not go in order to maintain the relationship and there is no problem with that. The bottom line is that it is personal. If, however, the spouse wishing to live in Israel still wants to go, in facilitating this desire, he/she may be granted greater rights in the divorce proceedings.
The bottom line is that in all these matters we must be sharply aware of the full spectrum of values lit by said situation and decide accordingly within the framework of Torah. Question: Even though circumcision is to enter into the covenant of Abraham, what about aesthetics, health, hygiene, and sanitation?
Isn't circumcision for those things, too?
What exactly is your question? If circumcision indeed has many other benefits, what is the problem? What is your issue with saying that “circumcision is to enter into the covenant of Abraham” but it may also have benefits touching upon “aesthetics, health, hygiene and sanitation” and thus may be “for those things, too”?
What you may be addressing, though, is the question of: bottom line, why are we to be doing this? The issue is not the many benefits that may also flow from circumcision and the various reasons why individuals may wish to choose this procedure for their sons but why we, as Jews, are to undertake this commitment. It is in this regard that we are to say that THE reason why we adopt this behaviour is because it is God’s commandment to thereby enter into the covenant of Abraham. There may be other motivations and outcomes but, bottom line, we to commit to this behaviour solely because of this reason.
The issue really is tied to a powerful Talmudic discussion (see, for example, T.B. Rosh Hashanah 28b) of whether mitzvot, commandments, need proper intent (kavana) or not. If we say that mitzvot do not need proper intent, then all that is necessary to fulfill a commandment is the performance of the act, regardless of the reason one is undertaking this action. If that were the case, one who circumcises his son for any reason, without even any recognition of its religious value, would be considered to be fulfilling the Divine command.
The actual dominant conclusion, though, is that commandments do need proper intent in order to be deemed fulfilled. Proper intent means undertaking the action because it is so commanded by God. As such, pursuant to this perspective, for a circumcision to be deemed as having religious value, it must be performed because it is a Divine commandment. One may still recognize other benefits but the necessary motivation must be God’s command. (The issue of what one is then to do if a circumcision was not undertaken with proper intent and the responsible person now wishes the correct religious value of circumcision is actually a most pertinent one. I do not want to get into details in this regard but suffice it to say that there is actually a simple solution to the problem and one with this issue need only to consult a local Orthodox rabbi in this regard.)
So what about these other reasons? While we must always recognize our limitations in achieving a full understanding of why God gave us a specific command, such reasons can serve to some extent as partial explanations for the command. They can also be used to make our fulfilment of the command a bit easier; it is easier to do what we are being told to do when we can also see a benefit. There is nothing wrong in seeing the benefit(s) of a Divine command. It can even, as stated, make it easier and nothing wrong in that. There is a challenge, however, in that we still cannot thereby allow these other reasons to cause us to lose sight of the real reason we are doing this: to fulfill the Will of God. The point is that we must never to lose sight of the fact that circumcision is a Divine command and that it is the sign from Abraham of our covenant with God – and this is bottom line reason for this act. Question: The following question is based on an inquiry to The Ethicist column in the Sunday New York Times Magazine. When there are scientific studies that point to the media having an impact on violent behavior, is it unethical to write, produce or direct violent films and TV shows?
In that your question regards the Jewish ethical perspective on these undertakings, what I feel I must first do is briefly digress and discuss what we may mean by the term Jewish Ethics. It actually has a compound nature.
A common assumption is the term Jewish Ethics simply refers to Halacha, i.e. Jewish Law. In fact, Jewish Law is actually only one part of Jewish Ethics. There are further layers to what we would term Jewish ethics which emerge from continuing discussions on a subject within a broader context. Terms such as lifnim meshurat hadin, beyond the strictures of the law, are sometimes employed to reflect these realms of Jewish ethical investigation. This term, however, only reflects one category of such extra-legal conclusions; there are many more. Jewish Ethics in reality is simply multi-layered on many levels.
The way many understand this layered approach to Jewish Ethics is by perceiving one standard – generally the standard of Halacha – as a sort of base requirement with the further standards reflecting higher ones to which a person should aspire. As such, the perception of many is that Jewish Law, in itself, reflects a lower standard that one must necessarily abide by while higher levels, beyond the law, reflect further and further declarations of what is really proper. This approach, however, is actually somewhat mistaken. While it is true that we find such examples of distinction in the call of Jewish Ethics -- cases whereby we are told that the average person should abide by one standard while a more righteous person should abide by another higher standard (with often a caveat that the average person should actually not, for various reasons, attempt to abide by this higher standard – that discussion, though, is not for now) -- the presentation of variant standards does not necessarily reflect this specific dichotomy in ethical conclusions. There are different reasons why Jewish Ethics may yield variant responses to an ethical question.
Halacha, Jewish Law, actually reflects a micro analysis of a situation, defining what is right and wrong within the narrow context of the micro action in itself. Its focus is on the act in itself. Further layers of Jewish Ethical investigation then often reflect upon the more macro considerations of the overall situation beyond the micro details of the act. This could include, for example, the ethical, psychological effect on the person doing the act. For example, within the technical, micro definitions of the law prohibiting the causing of pain to animals (tza’ar ba’alei chayim), if an act has tangible benefit for the human being it is permitted. As such, hunting when the human will gain benefit from the carcass is technically permitted under this rule. Rabbi Yechezkel Landau, Noda B’Yehuda, Yoreh Deah 10, however, still cautions that a Jew should, under normal circumstances, still refrain from such activities, especially sport hunting. This is because, beyond the micro parameters of the act, there is also the psychological effect on the hunter whereby he/she would become less sensitive to the very value of life. This is an example of a macro extra-legal Jewish ethical conclusion beyond the micro parameters of the act itself. Such decisions, however, are much more fluid.
Since such secondary investigations are also inherently bound to the micro considerations of the initial, micro, legal analysis, they generally just expand upon the base halacha to go beyond its strictures. This generally would lead to stricter standards in consideration of the macro situation. The macro analysis may, though, also result, in certain situations, in the introduction of more lenient possibilities, in that this consideration of the macro situation may, through certain technical aspects of Jewish Law, have such an effect on the base law.
The Heter Shemitta would be a good example of this. Jews, in Israel, are forbidden to work their land in the seventh year (Shemitta). There was concern, in the late 1800’s, when Jews first returned to the land of Israel and began developing it agriculturally, that observance of Shemitta could possibly have a massive negative effect on this agricultural endeavour and cause great damage to the religious settlement movement. In response, some leading rabbis developed a halachic argument by which it would be possible for the people to work the land (by legally selling it to non-Jews) and thereby avoid this possible negative consequence. These rabbis still maintained that, in normal circumstances, the micro considerations of the law still would demand that the land not be sold and not be worked. It was only consideration of the greater macro concerns in this specific situation that led them to develop a permitted different response given the circumstances. (It perhaps should also be noted that other leading rabbis disagreed with their arguments on various different grounds and maintained that the macro concerns could not lead to this effect – see further, Rabbi Ezra Schwartz, Heter Mechira, YU Torah Online. These dissenters, though, should not be seen as disagreeing with the basic theory that there is a macro layer in Jewish Ethics. They simply did not agree that in this case the macro effect could affect the micro case.)
Turning now to our case at hand -- whether, given that media can have an impact on violent behaviour, it is unethical to write, produce or direct violent films and TV shows – the prohibition framed by Vayikra 19:14 -- which reads Lifnei iver lo titein michshal, “Before a blind person do not put a stumbling block” -- is generally understood to include an injunction against assisting or causing another to sin. See, further, Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 232. As such, given that violent behaviour would generally be of a sinful nature, it would seem that it would be problematic for one to do something that could lead to such behaviour. The actual definition of this law in its purest, micro, halachic form maintains, though, that, to violate the prohibition, the one assisting another to sin must be an absolutely necessary component in the person’s sinful action. For example, for someone to be guilty of Lifnei iver, in its base form, in passing a piece of pork to another Jew who is forbidden to eat it, it must be that there is no other way for this other person to acquire this piece of pork. As such, in its most basic form, we can only say definitely that it would be wrong for one to write, produce or direct violent films or TV shows if there is no other way for a person to gain access to such items. That, though, is really only part of the consideration.
On the macro level of Jewish Ethics, the problem in assisting others in a sin actually expands. There is a general standard that one should not be connected with sin and, as such, even if the other could get the piece of pork from someone else and, as such, in giving this person the pork one would not violate Lifnei iver from the micro perspective, the general Jewish ethical perspective would be that a person should still not be the one who gives the pork. On this macro level, though, other considerations, which would also not be considered if we only specifically looked at the micro act, may also enter and further complicate the analysis.
The fact is that, even looking at the micro act, one would consider various technical issues before arriving at a conclusion of the ethical nature of an act. For example, in looking at the question even on its most base level, what do we mean by impact? Does that mean that some people, a small percentage, are so affected by such media presentations or are the majority of people so affected? The answer to this question could even affect the micro halacha. For example, if you are passing the pork to a group of Jews and non-Jews, that could affect the base law. The presence of non-Jews in the receiving group could permit the action of passing. The result may be that it is on the more macro level that we are more stringent. On this level, we may still say that one should not pass the pork. On the other hand, though, on this more macro level, we may also consider the livelihood of the one who is distributing the pork. Consider a pre-school teacher who has to distribute non-kosher food to his/her group of students consisting of Jews and non-Jews. We may find a way for him/her to do so, although it would result in a sin being performed (the eating of non-kosher by a child is considered to be a sinful act although the child is not culpable for this behaviour) since to not do so may result in this person losing his/her job. Similar broad considerations would also have to be studied in this case of media.
So the answer to your question is actually not so simple. In a broad sense, we can say that since violent behaviour is generally sinful, there is a problem in undertaking activity that could lead to such behaviour. (Another factor would be if the subsequent violent behaviour is not sinful such as in self-defence.) Every specific situation, though, has its own set of circumstances and to declare, in definite terms, whether one should write, produce or direct violent films or TV shows must demand a look at the circumstances. Question: I was never given a Hebrew name. My father is a non-Jew and my mother is a Jew. I understand that the last part of the Hebrew name is the first part of the father's Hebrew name. What would the method be for determining my Hebrew name be?
[Administrator's note: A related question is found at http://www.jewishvaluesonline.org/question.php?id=298.]
A person’s name is a way of distinguishing him/her from others, of identifying the individual as distinct from anyone else. As such, a name must have distinctive features so that thereby we are able to, with few exceptions, identify one individual as separate from another. It is thus important that within the mechanism of a name we are able to narrow down, to a great extent, the individual to whom we are referring.
Within the Jewish world, this is accomplished, generally, through the use of an individual’s personal name with a further reference to a parent. In most cases, the parent mentioned is the father so a full Hebrew name would generally be one’s individual personal name with the further mention that the individual is the son or daughter of the father. When the father is not Jewish, however, this reference to the father is not applied within Jewish Law. The essence of your question is as such: what other criteria is used in the name identification of a person if the father’s name is not used, such as in a case when the father is not Jewish? (The same question may be asked when, for example, the father’s identity is not known.)
The usual custom in such cases is to follow the view of Rema, Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 139:3 who states that the name of the father of the mother (i.e. the maternal grandfather) should be used instead of the father’s name. There are those, however, who disagree. See Mishneh Brura 139:10. The second option which then seems to have the most weight is to simply refer to the individual as the son or daughter of Avraham Avinu, Avraham our forefather. So in answer to your question, you have two basic options: either to refer to yourself as the son/daughter of your maternal grandfather or as the son/daughter of Avraham.
I should mention, perhaps, that there are actually also two other possibilities. As reference in a name is given to the mother in certain cases -- such as in prayers for health – the option to refer to you as the son/daughter of your mother is also presented, within the literature, as a possibility. The idea that perhaps you should just refer to yourself with one name, your personal individual one, is also found. These two latter options, however, reflect limited, minority opinions and, in the determination of your Hebrew name, it would be best if you choose one of the first two options. Question: I am a religiously-unaffiliated philosophy professor seriously considering conversion to Judaism, and am currently learning as much as I can in order to make a decision. My reasons for wanting to convert are entirely my own - I find myself drawn to the religion's beliefs and practices and feel it may be where I belong. In my research I have found numerous books on the subject of conversion, however they normally focus on the process of conversion itself - the 'how'. Whilst this is certainly important, I feel I first need to tackle the question of 'should' on a deep and careful level. I would like to make a sincere spiritual and moral commitment, and I know that converting to Judaism is not a small or trivial commitment to make. Are you able to recommend any reading material that explores the question of 'should I convert?' in a deep and contemplative way? Something that explores not just the practicalities of the decision, but its deeper meaning in terms of one's moral commitments and relationship with God? I am particularly interested in the pros and cons in this respect, as I have sometimes encountered dire warnings that "It is better to be a righteous Gentile than to make a commitment that you cannot keep". I feel I will need to study and contemplate the pros and cons of conversions very deeply in order to choose wisely. Thank you for your time (and feel free to edit this overly-long question for clarity).
You touch upon numerous issues in your question and I will not be able to respond to all of them within this answer (albeit that it is still a long one). What I hope to do, though, is to focus upon what I consider to be the initial concerns that you have to first address. I also hope to provide some direction for you on how to go from there.
The first question you must ask is what you mean by – or what is generally meant by -- conversion to Judaism. This may seem to be a trivial question but, in fact, it is a most significant one for the exact nature and goal of the transformation that is represented by the term ‘conversion to Judaism’ is understood differently by different people. This, thus, yields a problem in discussing the issue for what one person may mean by this term could be vastly different than what another person means. It is, therefore, important for you to fully understand what you mean by this term, both personally and within the context of others, before you determine the path to meet your goal.
This investigation must begin with the concept of the group. The starting point is that there is a group of individuals defined as Jews and the simplest understanding of conversion is that it is the method by which a person becomes a member of this group. But what exactly is the nature of this group? Since the term ‘conversion’ generally has religious connotations, there is a basic assumption that the nature of the group would be theological, i.e. Jews are individuals with a shared theology of a certain type. Is this, though, a proper way of defining the Jewish group?
There are actually two major difficulties with this definition. The first is that defining the Jewish group solely by theology would yield difficulties for Jewishness seems to also cover a nationalistic/ethnic/cultural dimension. The recent Pew Report on Jewish Americans even included a category entitled ‘Jews of no religion’ for it found that over 20% of American Jews “say they have no particular religion although they have direct Jewish ancestry (at least one Jewish parent) and consider themselves Jewish or partly Jewish.” In defining themselves as members of the Jewish group, such individuals clearly do not see this group as being defined by shared theology. The fact is that one of the essential elements of the Jewish group, within the consciousness of most Jews, is shared nationality or peoplehood. To many who stress this aspect of Jewishness, conversion is actually the term for how one not born Jewish can become part of this peoplehood, almost, regardless of theology. The very fact that Jewishness is even tied to birth would actually seem to give weight to this factor of Jewishness. So is the Jewish group a collection of individuals with a shared theology or a peoplehood or, somehow, both? If one argues both, how do these two elements of group identity come together to define the nature of this group? In wishing to convert, you must ask: what exactly is the nature of this group with which you wish to join?
This leads to the second basic difficulty that you must consider in tackling this issue of the group’s nature and that concerns the theological distinctions within Judaism. The branches of Judaism actually reflect major differences in theology that many Jews, unfortunately, do not even recognize. Further on this, please see my Adjective and Non-Adjective Jews, Nishma Introspection 5761-2. While there may be certain elements of theology that are shared by the variant branches, the reality is that in any conversion process that would be undertaken by an individual, the theology that would be taught would be specific to one of the branches of Judaism. In solely theological terms, it would be more correct for an individual to state that he/she is converting to or has converted to Orthodoxy Judaism or Reform Judaism, for example, rather than just state that he/she is converting to or has converted to Judaism. That would be a clearer representation of the shared theology. As such, in theological terms, you have to also determine with which theological grouping you wish to connect, i.e. which branch of Judaism you wish to join. This actually also leads us back to the first difficulty for while the theological distinctions between the branches of Judaism, by definition, splinter the broad group, the peoplehood aspect of Jewishness connects individuals within the broad group beyond the theological distinctions. As such, we do not talk of converts to Conservative Judaism or Orthodox Judaism but people wishing to become part of the overall group of Jews – which again brings in the peoplehood aspect.
So the first thing you have to do on this path of conversion is to truly decide the nature of the Jewishness which you wish to pursue. As conversion is in the hands of the branches of Judaism, you have to make a decision as to which branch of Judaism you wish to consider – at least, as a starting point. This would mean that you have to get in touch with a rabbi within the branch with which you wish to start this process. It may also mean that you will have to discuss the issue with rabbis of different branches in order to find the path that you wish to follow. As a philosophy professor, I am sure you can understand that the process of conversion is really an investigation of truth and your place within it. What I am simply presenting is the process of investigating this specific truth regarding Jewishness. It is then within the branch, or understanding of truth, that you have accepted that you will have to further investigate your questions and the one I am posing regarding the relationship between theology and peoplehood in Jewish identity.
It is actually with this issue that I would like to conclude. Since I brought up the issue of whether Jewishness reflects peoplehood or religious commitment or, somehow, both, I think that I should explain how Orthodoxy approaches the matter. This may also provide a basis for how to approach your further questions from an Orthodox perspective.
Jewishness actually reflects, within Orthodoxy, a nationalistic identity. A Jew is a member of the Jewish nation and one is either a member of this nation through birth (born to a Jewish mother) or through gerut, generally translated as conversion. In general terms (without entering into a discussion of technicalities), in order for one to become part of this nation, though, one must accept the faith of Orthodox Judaism as a pre-requisite. Simply, gerut is how one becomes a member of the Jewish nation but before being considered a candidate for becoming a member of the Jewish nation, the person must already be a believer in the universal theology of Orthodox Judaism. While Jews are expected to have a shared theology, the fact is that shared theology is not a defining factor of Jewishness. One may be Jewish without sharing the theology of Orthodox Judaism and sharing the theology of Orthodox Judaism does not make one Jewish. This demands further explanation.
As a universal religion, Orthodox Judaism’s theology actually applies to all humanity. The ideal within Orthodoxy – and this is found in the presentation of various Messianic ideals – is that all of humanity will adopt the theology and understanding of God as presented within Orthodoxy. What Orthodoxy presents, though, is a distinction in Divine expectations between the Jewish nation and the rest of humanity. God distinguished the Jewish nation and gave them the Torah which consisted of 613 commandments. For the rest of Mankind, God solely demanded observance of the 7 Laws of Noach, the Noachide Code. So being designated at birth as a Jew -- meaning that one is designated thereby as a member of the Jewish nation – simply defines an individual as subject to the Torah commandments. This is a designation that is inherent and cannot be lost. Non-observance of these commandments, even a rejection of basic theological principles including belief in God, does not result in a person losing the national status of being a Jew. The person is still part of the nation and still obligated in the Torah. Still, the essence of Jewish national identity is that it is the nation designated by God to receive the gift of the Torah and be bound by these additional Divine responsibilities with their further Divine benefits.
The wish to join the nation by someone not Jewish is thus understood to be, within this theological perspective, a wish by this person to be bound by the Torah commandments and not solely the Noachide Code. Gerut is thus designated as the process by which a non-Jew can become a Jew, enter into the covenant between God and the Jewish People, and thereby be bound by the laws incumbent upon a Jew. Given that national identity specifically concerns this commitment, fundamental to gerut, as such, is the acceptance of this commitment, kabbalat mitzvot, the acceptance of the Torah commandments. This commitment is obviously built upon an acceptance of the underlying theology so, theoretically, the process of conversion within Orthodoxy is one whereby an individual, who believes in this universal theology, wishes to join the Jewish nation because of a wish to be bound by the Torah Code. The process confirms this commitment.
A non-Jew, however, does not have to become a member of the Jewish nation and, pursuant to the universal theology of Orthodox Judaism, can be a Righteous Gentile through the observance of the Noachide Code. It is within this context that the question of ‘why convert?’ really exists. What are the proper motivations for one to want to become a member of the Jewish nation with its greater obligations? (In regard to Righteous Gentiles, you may wish to look at the life of Aime Pailliere (19th century) who is generally presented as the first modern Noachide.)
You are correct to state that you “will need to study and contemplate the pros and cons of conversions very deeply in order to choose wisely.” This study must begin with the above questions and your choice of the person to further instruct you, not only in the nature of the theology you wish to pursue but also in terms of your personal connection to it. Please feel free to contact me through www.nishma.org if you think I can be of further assistance. Question: My daughter has a child with a non-Jewish man with whom she has since split. She leads a totally non-Jewish life, although she comes for Seder, etc. Her own father, who died at the age of 24, was not Jewish. I have since married a Jewish man. I truly hope and wish that my daughter ends up with a Jewish man, but given her choice of lifestyle I do not see how this can ever happen. Should I give up hoping and accept that this is a lost cause? She is my only child and I sense that she feels lost and is unhappy. All she wants is to have a family life. My own father was the only father figure in her life, but he died when she was six years old. I blame myself entirely for this situation as I was hardly a good example.
There would seem to be two parts to this type of question. The first part would be: what is your obligation, as a Jew, in promoting Jewish identity in another Jew, in this case your daughter? The answer to that is straightforward; a Jew clearly has an obligation to assist another Jew in his/her observance of Torah. One argument for this is found in the halachic principle: kol Yisrael areivin zeh b’zeh, ‘all of Israel are guarantors for each other’. See Rashi, Rosh Hashana 29a where this principle is used to explain why one Jew, in various circumstances, can fulfill a mitzvah for another even though the one performing the mitzvah has already previously fulfilled his/her own obligation. As long as another Jew is under an obligation to perform a mitzvah, it is as if we all are so obligated – and responsible. See, also, T.B. Shavuot 39a.
In addition to this principle, an obligation of one Jew for the observance of another also arises from the command of hoche’ach tochi’ach et amitecha, ‘rebuke your fellow’, See Vayikra 19:17 and, for further details, Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 239. While there are many practical rules that have to be considered in regard to the application of this law, its basic principle is that a Jew is responsible to take steps to correct or prevent another Jew from violating Halacha. In this regard as well, you would have an obligation to try and further your daughter’s Jewish identity.
The real issue, however, is, I believe, the other part of this question. Answering that you, as a Jew, have an obligation to promote Jewish identity in your daughter actually seems to present your daughter as an object, someone you are to act upon. The law seems to be telling you that you have an obligation to affect another – and that would seem to be without even a consideration of this other as a seperate person, an independent human being with a will of her own. So we must consider the other part of this question: in the interest of your daughter, should you attempt to promote her Jewish identity? Is it to the benefit of your daughter to promote her Jewish identity? This leads into the question of how you actually see Jewish identity, personally and in general. If you see it as a good thing that would benefit your daughter, how could you not promote it within her?
We have a principle within Jewish Law that we can convert non-Jewish children. The question still emerges: how is this possible for conversion demands the free-will acceptance by the candidate to become Jewish and children are not deemed able to make such a free-will decision? The answer lies in the halachic concept of zochin l’adam shelo be’fanav, ‘one can benefit another even without their consent.’ While transactions demand the free-will acceptance of the parties, such an acceptance is not deemed necessary from a party when the transaction would be fully and totally beneficial to this party. Applying this principle to the laws of conversion, it is deemed permissible to convert a child -- even as a child is absent the ability to make a reasoned, adult, free will decision of this nature -- because becoming Jewish is deemed to be a total benefit to the child. See Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah 268:7. Within the principles of Torah, being Jewish is a good thing.
This, I would say, is the real issue with your daughter. Jewish thought believes that a Jew identifying as a Jew is good for that person – and if this is so, how could you then not further promote the furtherance of your daughter’s Jewish identity? Of course, there are many practical issues that would have to be addressed in determining how you would proceed from such a perspective. This is not a time for imposition or for the lack of recognition of your daughter’s own will. In the way you framed the question, though, it seems that you do believe that promoting your daughter’s Jewishness would be good for her. Jewish thought would agree and inform you that regardless of the past, it is never too late to assist others in improving their lives. Never stop hoping for the good – and more so, do whatever you can, properly and correctly, to bring it about. Question: Why is there a Jewish leap year this year? (2014?)
To answer this question, it is first important for one to understand that the general concept of a month originated with the lunar cycle -- the amount of time it takes for the moon to circle the earth -- and the general concept of a year originated with the solar cycle -- the amount of time it takes for the earth to circle the sun. In that it takes the moon approximately 29.5 days to complete its cycle and it takes the earth approximately 364.25 days to complete its cycle, a standard of 12 months in a year developed – but this is not exact. This is the issue with the Jewish calendar that leads to the need for a leap year.
Some calendars were established with the solar cycle as the base, with months determined by simply dividing the year by 12. This is the case with our conventional Western calendar of 12 months with, generally, more days in a month than are in the lunar month. The result is that our months are not connected in any way with the movement of the moon. A new moon may fall on any day of a month.
Other calendars use the lunar cycle as the base with the years simply consisting of 12 lunar months. This is the case with the Moslem calendar with a year consisting, as such, of fewer days than the solar year. The result is that this yearly cycle is not connected with the movement of the sun, resulting in no month specifically being tied to a certain season. While January of a conventional calendar will always be in the winter, a Moslem month may, at times, be in the summer and, at other times, be in the winter.
The challenge with the Jewish calendar is that while it defines its months clearly by the lunar cycle, the Torah’s further insistence that the holidays be in certain seasons – such as Passover in the spring – demand of us to also consider the solar year. Simply, the Hebrew month of Nissan must always be in the spring. The result is that 7 times in 19 years, an additional month – the leap month of Adar 1 – has to be added to the Jewish calendar to bring the holidays in line with the seasons. These leap years consist of 13 months and we are presently in one of these leap years.
The further question you asked, though, was: why was this year specifically a leap year? The fact is that originally, the determination of a leap year was made by the Sanhedrin (or a committee thereof) judicially as per the need. See Mishnah Sanhedrin 1:1; Rambam, Sefer HaMitzvot, Aseh 153 (with Ramban); and Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 4. As those who made such decisions had a strong knowledge of astronomy, the idea that leap years had to occur 7 times in 19 years must have been known and would be considered a factor in making such decisions. It is generally understood, though, that in times when the Sanhedrin functioned the decision on a leap year was made judicially in response to need and in the year in which the extra month would be added.
We have a tradition, though, that towards the end of the 4th century, Rabbi Hillel HaSheni, the Nasi [President] of the Sanhedrin at that time, in response to a concern for persecution of the Jews, computed a calendar that would establish the future dates for observance of the holidays. This calculation included the formula of leap years 7 times in 19 years. Our present Jewish calendar is the product of this calculation and so it was effectively mandated, in this manner, that this year would have an extra month, i.e. be a leap year.
To be honest, however, this does not really fully answer the question. The further question may be: why did God create the lunar and solar cycle in this way thus necessitating such calculations? Often, when we ask questions, we assume the facts about reality to be a given and then ask for an explanation of the response. That is the simple way of addressing a question such as this one: Given the astronomical reality and the needs within the Jewish calendar to both incorporate the lunar month and the solar seasons, what was done to accommodate these requirements? The challenge is that we also believe that God is the One Who created these lunar and solar cycles – so we may then wonder: why did He not create them to be more aligned? Why did God create the world in such a manner that the calendar would demand such mathematical and judicial dexterities? This is a question that I now leave you with. Question: If a medicine is applied to the skin near the mouth, and some is accidentally swallowed, is it a problem if the ingredients may not be kosher?
[Administrators note: A related question is found at http://www.jewishvaluesonline.org/question.php?id=123.]
To properly answer your question, I really have to ask you what you mean by a problem. Are you asking if this person has committed a sin? Are you asking what someone should do in this type of situation? Are you asking if medicine has to be kosher? To be honest, it is very strange for me as a Rabbi to respond to a question framed in this manner. What people generally ask me regards their behaviour – what they should do given a certain set of facts. This may be your question as well; asking, through this word ‘problem’, what should be done in such circumstances. Framing the question in this way, though, does detract from what I believe should be the focus of following Torah guidelines – i.e. our behaviour.
Let us begin with the assumption that you are asking if the person in this case committed a sin. Sin within Halacha is somewhat similar to our criminal law system which generally demands mens rea, a certain type of criminal intent, for someone to be liable. This is not to say that this halachic concept of intent is fully similar to mens rea but it is clear that to commit a sin within the parameters of Halacha, there has to be a certain level in the intent or weakness in the concentration that surrounds an action.
One has clearly sinned if one does a forbidden act, with intent to do such an act, knowing that it is forbidden. That is referred to in the literature as meizid, intentional sin. One is also deemed to have sinned if one is negligent in his/her duty to ensure that he/she does not sin. This type of sin is referred to as shogeg, negligent sin. This case would seem to clearly not be a case of meizid, as the person did not intend to swallow something non-kosher (We will deal later with the question whether kashrut is even an issue in this case). Would this then be a case of shogeg? This would involve the question of whether the person took normative steps to ensure that he/she would not swallow the non-kosher item (if kashrut is an issue) given its proximity to the mouth. As this seems to involve medicine which a person would naturally try to avoid swallowing, and from your use of the word ‘accident’, we can perhaps assume that such steps were also taken – thus it was through no fault of the person that this non-kosher item was swallowed. In such cases, Halacha applies the term anoos, meaning non-responsible, and T.B, Nedarim 27a informs us that anoos Rachmana patur, that God does not hold an individual culpable for behaviour for which he/she had no control.
So if your question was whether this behaviour was a sin or not – still putting off the issue of kashrut itself -- it would seem most likely not, unless the person, knowing the item to be non-kosher and that there was a possibility of swallowing it, was sloppy in putting on the medicine and this resulted in the consumption. But, still, so what? So this happened? The real question, thus, should be what to do and the answer to this would be to do teshuva, repent. This would mean, in this case, to consider and regret what one did and, in such circumstances in the future, take steps to ensure that one is not similarly sloppy.
This is still only part of the necessary discussion. Your question also states that there may be non-kosher items in the medicine. This raises the question of how we are to approach items when the kashrut of the item is in question. The above discussion assumes we are dealing with an item that is not kosher. Your question concerns an item that is not definitely non-kosher. Does that change the response?
In addition, even if the item contained non-kosher items, does the issue of kashrut even apply in such circumstances, to this type of medicine? The kosher laws apply to foodstuffs and for something to be defined as not kosher it has to meet certain standards of being edible. Right from the beginning there would actually seem not to be an issue for we are talking about some type of lotion and not a food product. Assuming it not to be edible, the whole issue of kashrut would seem to not even apply. On the other hand, we should still note, there is a mandate also within the Halacha to take care of oneself (see Devarim 4:15) and thus, if this lotion applied on the skin could make someone ill, aside from a general health directive, there would also be a halachic directive to try and put on the lotion without consuming it for one could get sick thereby. Is there a problem? Yes and learn thereby to be more careful.
What about the question of whether there really was a non-kosher item in the item or not (assuming it to be food). Lack of surety regarding a substance can, at times, indeed lead to a distinction in the halachic conclusion. There are times when a substance for which one is unsure of the kashrut is to be treated exactly the same as if there was absolute knowledge that it was not kosher. There are other times, though, where a question of surety of substance can yield a different conclusion. The application of these laws, though, can be complicated so I won’t go further into this topic at this time; my purpose being to simply point out this issue.
There is, perhaps, one other concept I should also point out before concluding. While our case here did not involve a foodstuff, there is law involving food that has some application to the concepts we have discussed. From what I have presented, we can conclude that eating something not kosher is only a problem if done in a sinful manner, be it meizid or shogeg. The fact that one consumed something not kosher accidently is not a problem, i.e. the person has done nothing wrong. There is a question in the literature, though, regarding a Jewish baby nursing from a non-Jewish woman (with the assumption that she has eaten non-kosher food, albeit, as a non-Jew, she is permitted to do so) and/or a Jewish baby nursing from his/her mother after the mother ate, with halachic permission because of illness, something not kosher. Even though no sin would be involved in this, Rema, Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah 81:7 still states that this should still be avoided if possible as non-kosher items, even if consumed in a manner without sin, can still be detrimental to our souls. Thus, pursuant to this viewpoint, when it comes to issues of kashrut, our concern can even go beyond the issue of sin. Others, however, still disagree with Rema’s view and permit the nursing of a baby by a mother who, with permission, ate something not kosher for such an item is only detrimental if its consumption is done in sin. Further to our purposes, I would still like to point out that Rema is still dealing with a question of behaviour. What should a nursing mother do? You still don’t find a question of what to do with a baby who nursed from a non-Jewish woman.
Question: The Chofetz Chaim (of blessed memory) states that a Torah written by a heretic must be burned. At an economic loss of $15,000 upwards, is it permissible ethically and according to Jewish values to make full disclosure of the defects of such a Torah, and sell it under those conditions to a Conservative or Reform (or any) congregation that is in need of one? It is assumed that the text of the Torah itself is without error or shmad (heretical defect).
To be honest, I originally had some difficulty with this question when I first read it. I could not understand exactly what the essence of the question was. It, in fact, touches upon many different issues and to approach it correctly, we have to systematically consider them all.
Before proceeding with this analysis, though, I should mention that this directive that such a sefer Torah must be burnt is actually not solely the words of the Chofetz Chaim. This statement is actually found in T.B. Gittin 45b and is presented as the halacha in Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah 6:8 and Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah 281:1.
1 Economic loss in doing a mitzvah
The first issue would seem to be the question of how much financial loss one must suffer in the fulfilment of a mitzvah. While there is actually some halachic discussion on this topic, Rema, Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 656:1 concludes that one must be willing to give up all his/her money to avoid violating a negative command (Lo Ta’aseh) and one must spend up to 20% of his/her wealth to fulfil a positive command (Aseh) and. (See, further, Mishneh Brura in regard to these percentages referring to wealth and not income.) So it would seem that pursuant to this opinion, if the directive to burn this sefer Torah (worth $15,000) is deemed to be an Aseh, if one’s assets are less than $75,000, one would seem to be exempt from burning it. If, however, the directive is actually a derivative of a Lo Ta’aseh (do not allow this sefer Torah to continue to exist), the cost is irrelevant; it must be burnt. The fact is, though, that this analysis is not really an issue in this case.
This sefer Torah must, actually, already be looked upon as valueless. In that this sefer Torah was written by a heretic, Rambam states that it does not possess any holiness for the names of God, when written, must be written with proper intent. As the heretic did not possess this proper intent, these names cannot be considered to have any holiness and thus this sefer Torah does not contain any spiritual value. This is also the reason for why, although there is a general prohibition of destroying the written name of God, this is not a reason for not burning this sefer Torah. As such, in that the economic value of a sefer Torah would be tied to its utility as a religious item, and this sefer Torah would not possess this utility, we could not see it as worth this $15,000. In the view of the Halacha, it is deemed to have no value – and, in fact, that is why we do burn it. We are thereby declaring that such a sefer Torah, written by a heretic, is deemed to be worthless.
2. Selling such a sefer Torah
Given the above, what one is really considering through this offer of selling this sefer Torah is whether it is okay to sell something which I consider worthless to someone who gives it value. While in a regular transaction, this would not be a problem given full disclosure, it is still clearly one here. In a regular case, the fact that the vendor considers something to have no value is not a problem as long as the purchaser knows exactly what he/she is buying. The purchaser giving the object value gives it value. In this case, though, this is not the case. In that the very call to burn such a sefer Torah is to specifically demonstrate that it is worthless, the Halacha is making the specific point that, even if someone wishes to assign value to this object, we are to emphatically declare that it is actually without value. I am being called upon to reject the purchaser’s perspective that such a sefer Torah has value. The call to burn it is a call to declare it worthless regardless of what others may think.
It is important to recognize that your point about full disclosure is inherent within this conclusion as is the assumption that the sefer Torah is without textual error. The issue is its heretical defect. The fact that it was written by a heretic is defined within the Halacha as a heretical defect – in fact, a major heretical defect to the extent that one is called upon to destroy it to ensure that no one then gives it value. I would have to reject the option to sell it to a Conservative or Reform synagogue for I would then be giving it value.
3. Use by a Conservative or Reform synagogue
There are also other issues. We must ask: why would a Conservative or Reform synagogue be willing to purchase this sefer Torah if the Halacha defines it as unacceptable? There are two possible approaches in answering this question. One is that they do not feel bound by this law – a difference between Conservative and Reform Judaism being in why they feel a certain law (as defined within Orthodoxy) is no longer binding or valid. (Many do not recognize that the distinctions in the branches of Judaism are not simply reflections of differences in behaviour and practice. There are major theological distinctions between the branches that are often overlooked, I believe, under the false impression that greater knowledge of these differences will only foster friction and disunity within the Jewish People. I actually believe just the opposite – that greater knowledge of these theological differences will actually improve unity for discussion will then be based on knowledge and recognition of honest, different perspectives. See my Adjective and Non-adjective Jews on the Nishma website at www.nishma.org. I also believe that this is one of the important values of this website, Jewish Values Online, for this promotes intelligent dialogue within real parameters.)
So, returning to our issue, in this case, the Conservative or Reform synagogue may be interested in purchasing this sefer Torah because they feel that, even though it was written by a heretic, it is still valid. If this is so, though, the question of whether it is permissible to sell such a scroll to them would be similar to a question of whether I could give a follower of Reform Judaism something non-kosher to eat given that this movement does not believe that these general laws of kashrut are presently binding. The answer to this question is clearly no – and the same rule would apply to selling them this sefer Torah even given the difference in their view of the law.
Before continuing on this issue, though, it may first be important to highlight the even potentially further sensitive nature of this issue. The other reason that these non-Orthodox synagogues may be willing to purchase this sefer Torah is because, while they may agree that one should not use a scroll written by a heretic, they may not deem the person who wrote this sefer Torah under discussion to be such a person. The fact is that someone who, today, generally abides by the theological perspectives of the Conservative or Reform movement would, most likely, be defined as a heretic from an Orthodox perspective. So the case may even be that someone affiliated with this Conservative or Reform synagogue wrote this sefer Torah and they now wish to purchase it from the Orthodox synagogue which possesses it. The Orthodox synagogue which owns it, though, upon finding out that it was written by this person, now believes they have to burn it. (While there may be some question today of whether they actually have to burn it, they clearly have to ensure that it is no longer used.) They cannot sell it to these other synagogues. For our investigation of this issue, it is thus important for us to also briefly touch upon the issue of tolerance and mutual respect between the branches.
When the intolerance of one faith perspective for another is generally witnessed, what is usually encountered is not only a presentation that the other is incorrect in his/her belief but also a judgemental statement that the other thereby deserves punishment. What we effectively find is a response to the idea and a response to the person. What we find within the Halacha, though, is an adamant separation of the two. As with any system which believes itself to be true, Halacha, by definition, must also perceive other systems, which offer a different perception of reality, to be wrong. As such, in situations such as this one, Halacha demands that one approach such a situation solely within the perspective of its system. If it declares this sefer Torah unable to be used, this is deemed to be an objective conclusion that must be applied universally, notwithstanding that another may not share this conclusion. In terms of the object, Halacha demands its adherents, in their behaviour, to maintain its standard as objectively correct.
In terms of a person, Halacha, though, also takes a distinct stand of extensive tolerance. Just because one comes to a conclusion that, from the perspective of Halacha, is incorrect, does not mean that the one arriving at this conclusion is to be necessarily judged negatively because of it. The conclusion not to sell this sefer Torah to the Conservative or Reform synagogue, thus, should not be seen as a judgemental statement condemning these individuals negatively. Even the declaration that the one who wrote this scroll is a heretic is not to be seen in a judgemental way. This is simply the reality. Since the person did not have the thoughts about God which the Halacha deems to be correct, the scroll is deemed to thereby have no value. As to the scribe’s status in the eyes of God, only God knows that and it is emphatically not for us to judge. Not selling such a sefer Torah to a Conservative or Reform synagogue is simply a statement about the sefer Torah and not about the people.
So, in conclusion, in answer to your question, one would not be permitted to sell such a sefer Torah to another congregation. One must take the loss (although there may be a question today whether one would have to burn such a scroll or just bury it).
Question: Are extremists on both sides (left and right) of the Woman of the Wall ordeal going too far to push their agendas? It seems like most Israelis would prefer peace and unity when it comes to personal praying at the Kotel.
To fully understand the nature of your question, it may be worthwhile to consider it within a different context that would thereby open up to you the full dimension of the issue. As I am presently reading a book on the American Civil War, let us use slavery as this example. There were people on both sides of the issue of slavery who were willing to go to war over this issue. You could ask the same question in that regard: were the extremists on both sides, in that case, going too far to push their agendas? You could also state, in this regard, that there were people– perhaps, even, a majority of the nation at the time -- who preferred peace and unity. How would that realization then affect how you would look at the two sides of the conflict in that case?
As modern individuals who find slavery to be abhorrent, it is difficult for us to comprehend how individuals -- who in other respects would be fully ethical and moral -- could possibly take a stand to go to war to defend the institution of slavery. We can understand, though, how individuals would be willing to undertake such a battle to end it. Even though such a war would shatter the peace and unity of the country, we can understand how individuals could be so bothered by slavery that they would be willing to enter into such a war in order to destroy this oppression. It is this realization of a passion of an issue that we have to also consider in addressing this issue of the Women of the Wall in Israel. The issue is not slavery and, thank God, the concern is not war. What we still have to recognize, though, is that for individuals on both sides of the issue there is much passion in their viewpoints. The question, thus, is how are we to look at these variant passions especially since a third passion for peace and unity may be thereby also challenged. From the example of slavery, though, we do learn that peace and unity may not always be the overriding value in the eyes of all.
To further and properly address this issue in Israel, however, it is also necessary to correctly define what the issue is and, thereby, the source of the differing passions. In this regard, to describe this battle as being over personal praying at the Kotel would be, in my opinion, incorrect. The Kotel is more than a place of personal prayer; it is a significant national landmark. As such, what happens at the Kotel reflects the communal nature of the Jewish People. This is doubly so because the Kotel is also a place of communal prayer. It is a place, a significant place, where we can come together as a Jewish community in prayer. Viewed in this manner, we can begin to understand the basis of the passion of both sides in this conflict. The issue is how we see the very nature of a Jewish community, specifically, in this case, in how we are to come together as a community in prayer. Defining the nature of the Jewish community, indeed, is a matter that could generate much passion.
This is the real nature of the conflict – and viewed in this manner, one can see why both sides have great passion in their position. As an Orthodox Rabbi, it should be clear that I would favour a more traditional view of the nature of Jewish communal prayer and, thus, in regard to this actual issue itself, would lean towards the more traditional stand. That, however, is not really the question here. The question here actually is: given that there are variant views within the Jewish world, how are we to respond? The further complication is that, in accepting any deviation from one’s vision of what should be Jewishness, one is also thereby inherently challenging one’s very vision of what Jewishness is. If I say Jewishness is A and you say Jewishness is B, a resultant compromise of let us say A+B would actually not be Jewishness to either of us. This problem is especially so from the Orthodox perspective. Viewed in this manner, one could see how the passions of the issue could run high.
So let us re-visit your question from this perspective. Whether either side is going too far in pushing its agenda really depends on how you view the significance of the particular agenda. If you think the whole matter is a non-issue in the first place, then your view will be that what these individuals are fighting over is not so significant in the first place, so, of course, the hostility and animosity is clearly not worth it. The average secular Israeli may, actually, feel that way. If, however, you recognize that their battle is, in fact, over a significant issue, then you may perceive the sides, especially the one you favour, to simply be doing what it has to do for the sake of the greater value of Jewishness.
This, however, is where the second part of your inquiry may play an interesting role. Peace and unity as part of Jewishness are also defining Jewish values – and they, as such, have their own roles to play in the very definition of Jewishness. There are cases whereby an argument can be made to even do what may not be technically correct because to do otherwise may cause friction and the pursuit of peace and unity is also a value to be thrown into the mix. This is not to say that everything may become permitted in the name of peace and unity – in fact, this concern for peace and unity has many limitations as a force that would allow any such deviation. Yet concern for peace and unity are not just other external factors that should be considered in cases of disagreement. In this case, as we discuss the Jewish community, peace and unity are actually factors to be applied in shaping the inherent answer to this question.
This does not mean that peace and unity thereby triumphs. It does not mean that it overrides the other issues of Jewishness that more specifically dominate this issue. What it does mean, though, in the determination of communal Jewishness, we do have to consider peace and unity as factors. To use the algebraic analogy above, peace and unity could be a factor in making the answer of A+B more Jewish. It could be the call for A not to confront B or for B to accommodate A. That we consider peace and unity as a value of Jewishness in this battle over the nature of Jewishness could, indeed, result in such a declaration that fanatics on both sides may be going too far. They are fighting for Jewishness – yet Jewishness also includes a disdain for such fighting. This does not, however, mean do not fight – but recognize the inherent problem in having to fight with fellow Jews even in the advent of one’s perception of Jewishness.
Rabbi Ben Hecht
Question: My brother recently married a non-Jewish woman. I went to the wedding, not because I wanted to, but because my mother insisted I go. My husband and I sat in a corner with our kosher store-bought sandwiches (no kosher food in sight) and made a presence. It was a very uncomfortable evening, and has led to even more questions for me. I love my brother very much and want to be part of his life, but I truly do not want to be around his non-Jewish wife. We do not live in the same city, so it's not like we run into each other frequently, but I am not sure what I am supposed to do for the occasions that we do meet. I would consider myself modern Orthodox and my brother has gone beyond non-observant; he now considers himself an atheist. What is the Jewish view on these situations? Does one just try to be polite to the non-Jewish spouse to maintain a relationship with the Jewish family member? My husband and I hope to have a family soon. How do you handle exposing your children to something you are teaching them is wrong? I know the fact that I do not want to be at a table (or in the same room) as his wife hurts my mother tremendously (she does not like what my brother has done either, but fears losing him). Is my difficulty with my brother and his wife a lack of respect for my mother as her children cannot spend quality time together? I know there are several questions listed here. I thank you in advance for your assistance with this.
Life events generally do involve variant issues with a spectrum of ethical concerns and, as such, many questions should actually be expected. You are, as such, to actually be commended for voicing many of them. The first challenge that often exists, though, is the proper articulation of these concerns. This is not to say that you have presented your questions incorrectly. What is often overlooked, though, is a necessary investigation of the underlying ethical constructs upon which one may base one’s perspectives, conclusions and dilemmas/questions. We often assume certain ideas or viewpoints to be correct without a proper consideration of the true underlying values or motivations in the circumstances. In certain ways, this is also what we must first investigate in regard to your questions. (It is with this in mind, that I would also like to direct you to another question within this general topic of intermarriage that was previously addressed on Jewish Values Online. Please see http://www.jewishvaluesonline.org/867. As the development of my response in regard to this question may direct me in a different way, my thoughts there may also be of assistance.)
The essence of your inquiry is clearly the question of how you are to relate to your brother given that he is now part of an intermarriage. Perhaps the most poignant aspect of this question is how you are to proceed when, please God, you have children. Before you approach this issue, though, you must first consider why you are honestly against intermarriage. How you understand the problem will greatly affect how you will respond to it and there are certain implications in your description of this issue that leads me to believe that your perception of the issue is somewhat skewed, yielding the possibility of error in how you proceed. Don’t get me wrong. Intermarriage is a powerful challenge within the Jewish community and developing a proper response to it is a most difficult undertaking. This is especially so when we consider the message we wish to impart to our children in this regard. This, however, makes the correct definition of the issue even more important.
The first item that hit me was how you mentioned that you do not wish to be around your brother’s non-Jewish wife yet you do not mention anything about her. As a person, do you like her? Do you dislike her? What has she done to offend you? If anything, you should perhaps have great difficulty being around your brother who has forsaken his heritage and, it would seem, even his belief? I am, of course, not offering this as a suggestion or even an alternative. Your brother’s conclusions about God, religion and even his own Jewish identity are, most likely, the results of weaknesses in our Jewish educational structures. In so many ways, the reasons that are often presented for why someone should continue to identify as a Jew and not intermarry are so weak that it is actually amazing that even more individuals are not choosing to intermarry. I clearly do not believe that you should have negative feelings towards your brother because of his choice of a non-Jew as a wife. In the same vein, though, I would also question why you would or should have negative feelings towards his wife simply because she is not Jewish. That is a fact that bothers you because of your beliefs – a matter we shall discuss shortly – but it is not – and should not become – a statement about her. She is simply a person acting pursuant to her beliefs (with which you happen to disagree). Of course, there are times when another’s beliefs are so offensive that they are a reason, in themselves, for you to shun this person. But is that the case here? If the woman is actually a fine human being than the harbouring of negative feelings towards her simply because she is not Jewish – or, in more specific terms, is a non-Jewish woman who chose to marry a Jew – is a problem. From her perspective – and perhaps even more importantly, from the perspective a rational natural morality -- she has done nothing wrong. It is your belief in a Revelation at Sinai that declares her behaviour to be wrong – and it is within this perspective, and only within this perspective, that this dilemma must be approached.
This leads me to the second item that struck me and that is the role of your mother. While the Torah’s commands to honour parents are clearly of high value (see Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 33), there is a clear limitation on them whenever they collide with any other Torah value. See Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah 240:15. (See, further, Biurei HaGra.) Concern for your mother is thus important but only subsequent to your own independent determination of what is proper. It is only within the spectrum of proper behaviour that one can consider the effect on parents in terms of narrowing down the permitted options. On the surface, this would seem to simply imply that concern for your mother’s familial feelings should not be allowed to interfere with any clear-cut directive to remain aloof from your brother’s wife. While this may be a proper conclusion as well, this recognition of the gap between your mother’s views and the Torah views also indicates that any deviation between your mother’s negative view of intermarriage and the Torah’s negative view must also be acknowledged and considered. In that, it would seem you and your husband ate your kosher food at this wedding alone, your mother does not share your views of Revelation and the binding nature of Jewish Law. If this is so, why then is your mother against intermarriage? Without a clear Revelational directive not to intermarry, human emotions against intermarriage raises many questions and issues. It is important as you proceed that, in both directions, you do not let your mother’s perspectives – and even natural value selections – deviate you improperly from the Torah path.
But what now is this Torah path? As we recite daily in the blessings we say in preparation of our study of Torah – asher bachar banu mikol ha’amim, Who has chosen us from amongst all the nations – it is important for us to understand that our root distinction as Jews is because God has chosen us from amongst the other nations. It is a Divine act that has distinguished us a Jews. If this is on our mind, we can also understand that with this great distinction come great responsibilities. If God has so honoured us by choosing us from amongst all the nations it must clearly have a great purpose – and it is of this purpose that we must continuously be conscious. What does this say in regard to intermarriage? On the simplest level, we could argue that this idea should tell us to have strong negative feelings towards a Jew who intermarries because this person is throwing off a yoke of responsibility. Yet, does the person truly see it this way? What about the Divine honour that this person is also ignoring for it is God Who has so chosen this person? The bottom line is that most people intermarry because they don’t view their Jewish identity in this manner. They do not see it as a responsible privilege that God has bestowed upon them. It may even be that the non-Jewish spouse sees the marrying of a Jew as more honourable than the Jew himself. The fact is that the challenge of intermarriage should actually bring us back to consider the very honour of being Jewish. If people are willing to challenge this identity, it may be because these people simply do not value this identity or do not value it enough. The proper response, thus, cannot be to shun the non-Jewish spouse but, rather, to promote the honour of this identity and to act in a manner, within the confines of Halacha, that meets its responsibilities and brings honour to the identity.
Bottom line, what I am advocating is that you focus on the positive. As the ancient fable goes, more can be accomplished by the sun shining brightly than by the wind blowing violently. Your responsibility is to act as a Jew and to make others look upon our status as Jews in a most positive light. Within my organization, Nishma (www.nishma.org) our byline quotes from Devarim 4:6 which states that our goal should include the nations of the world seeing us a “a wise and understanding people.” That is clearly not always possible; our observance of Torah can also often lead to negative perceptions from others and this cannot stop us either (see Rashi, Bamidbar 19:2). Yet, for many reasons, attempting to be seen in a positive light must also be part of our interaction with the world. Our Jewish identity must be perceived as something honourable and of value in the world. It is in this regard, that we can truly further foster commitments to Jewish identity. In the case of intermarriage, one of the solutions is for the non-Jewish spouse to convert (of course, fully pursuant to Halacha) – and this does happen on occasion because this spouse’s new interaction with the Jewish world has actually instilled in him/her a value in being Jewish and thus a wish to become one (which then also affects the spouse born Jewish). With children also the method of dealing with such situations is by promoting the value of being Jewish, not through a motivation from a fear that they will see the other alternative as better. If your children say one day how unfortunate it was that your brother intermarried or that his wife did not convert because they have forsaken the honorable and responsible status of being Jewish, you know you will have been successful.
So what am I saying? This is a time for you to respond with not simply a pride in being Jewish but with a recognition of the great honour and responsibility that God has bestowed upon you. Act in a manner that garnishes honour from God and your fellow human beings (Avot 2:1) – that is the challenge that is before you. In this manner you could even re-ignite positive feelings of Jewish identity in your brother and, perhaps, kindle them in your sister-in-law. In this manner, you also need not worry about your children coming in contact with this violation of Jewish Law or with any individual who offers a lifestyle choice contrary to Halacha. They will want the status of being one of those who positively maintains the status that God has bestowed on them. The answer lies simply in how you conduct yourself as a Jew.
Question: How do Jewish values apply to this question, which appeared in the New York Times Magazine, Ethicist column. I am a single woman in my mid-20s. I recently learned from my dear friend that she has developed a longtime pattern of cheating on her husband of five years. I understand cheating happens for various reasons - but if I remain friends with her, am I condoning her ongoing behavior? If I am "anti-compulsive-cheating," do I therefore have to be "anti-her?" I value many aspects of our friendship, but don't see her (or my) views on philandering ever changing. What is the Jewish response to this?
Friendship is a very important value – and challenge -- within Torah. See, for example, Avot 1:6,7; 2:13,14. The reality is that we do not live alone but, in fact, are social beings. We are meant to relate to others – and herein lies the value and the challenge. As social beings, we inherently affect and are affected by others – and this is part of the Divine plan in that our goal is not solely our personal development but the triumph of everyone’s development within a proper communal model. We thus must consider our relationships very carefully with a recognition that we have a responsibility for ourselves and others. We, thus, must ensure that our friendships affect us positively and not negatively while we also accept the obligation, to the best of our abilities, to affect others positively and not negatively.
When we reflect upon friendship, we, of course, must still consider our emotional feelings for each other. Friendship, in many ways, is clearly an alogical activity – who can truly say why we love or like another? The Torah perspective on friendship and relationships is not intended to change our human connections into solely a pragmatic activity whereby our only consideration is how we may benefit and receive benefit from another, albeit even of a spiritual nature. The reality is that we have connections with others and our emotions and familial connections inform us of the nature of these connections. This is part of the Divine plan. The further call, though, is to build upon these connections in the furtherance of the Divine plan – and so our emotions must translate into responsibilities.
Thus, in your particular case, you find yourself bonded in friendship to another with an immoral standard. The question is: how are you to respond in such a situation? The fact that you have a connection with this person means that this is a situation to which you must respond. You cannot simply walk away or ignore the responsibilities that go with the reality of this friendship. We have a responsibility to assist another in their moral challenges (Vayikra 19:17.18) and this is doubly so when we have a further, special bond with them. The issue is not simply whether you can be friends with this woman but how you should conduct this friendship. This is broader than the sole issue that you mention. It may be that you may not be able to change her conduct – but do not think solely in the short run. Maybe your friendship with her will eventually affect her positively in this regard over time. Maybe, still, it will never affect her in this particular way but your friendship will be positive for her in other ways and that also is important. You being a positive influence in your friend’s life has value.
There is, however, a limitation on this. You have to also be aware of the possibility of being a negative influence through your acquiescence of her behaviour. It may be that you cannot change her actions and it may be that you are a positive influence upon your friend in other ways but you must also be concerned that maintaining your friendship could give the impression that you are in agreement with her behaviour. There is also the possibility that others may interpret your friendship as a tacit approval of her behaviour. Giving a wrong impression is a negative value in its own right and it also has to be a consideration. It is always important that you are clear about your moral standards.
This leads into the other side of the issue – the effect of this relationship upon you. You also have a responsibility to yourself to maintain friendships with people who have a positive influence on your life. While you may think that you are not being affected by this woman’s negative behaviour, the reality is that one could be negatively affected by another’s actions in the most subtle of ways. Even simply tolerating the negative behaviour of others can have negative effects upon a person. There are many further ways that sharing a friendship with a person of poor moral stature can have negative effects on a person. Maintaining a friendship cannot override your duty to your own personal integrity and ethical standards and development.
So the answer to your question in terms of how Judaism would respond to such an issue is actually a most complex one. Every case is actually different based upon the actual personalities involved and the nature of the friendship and relationship. You are responsible for yourself and for others although the responsibility to self has priority in terms of personal, ethical development. You should not walk away unless you must but it is also important that, even if you maintain, the relationship, you never give the impression that you accept her negative behaviour. That may actually be a strain on the relationship but there is a greater good than the friendship and, although we value friendship, we are further committed to the greater Divine good.
Question: In the story of Purim, why was Esther willing to marry a non-Jewish king? What do we learn from this?
Who says she was? There is no indication in the text that she had any type of choice in accepting Achashveirosh as her husband. The clear implication is that it was in fact solely Achashveirosh’s choice as to whom he wished to marry – with the girl chosen not having any say in the matter, that is whether she would like to or not. The verses in Esther, Chapter 2 speak of the officers of the king collecting girls to present to the king with Esther 2:14 indicating the sad fate and any girl not chosen, i.e. to be part of the king’s guarded harem. There is really no indication of choice.
Reading between the lines, one could perhaps still maintain that there may be some indication that a woman would still want to have been chosen. In the preparation time before meeting the king, the women were given anything they wished to highlight their beauty (Esther 2:13). In making such a request, a woman was obviously hoping to be picked. In regard to Esther, though, Esther 2:15 states that she emphatically did not request anything. The actual indication, as such, regardless of what may have been the case with the other women, is that Esther did everything she could to avoid actually being chosen.
This is all from the simple reading of the text. The Rabbinic literature on the subject clearly further indicate that Esther had no desire to marry Achashveirosh and that her participation in the marriage was solely because of the fear that otherwise she would be killed. From a halachic perspective, her relations with Achashveirosh were deemed to be akin to rape. See, for example, T.B. Sanhedrin 74b. Simply, she did not want to be Achashveirosh’s wife; she was forced to become the queen under the threat of death.
This actually forces us to recognize the personal tragedy of Esther’s life and how much she sacrificed herself for the benefit of the nation. This recognition is specifically noted in the manner in which the ending words of Esther 4:16 are read in the synagogue. The tune that is used is not the regular tune for the reading of the Megilla but rather the tune for the reading of the Book of Eicha (Lamentations) on Tisha B’Av. She sacrificed her personal and spiritual quality of life for her nation.
The reason that these few words are particularly singled out is because up until this point, Esther only came to the king when she was summoned. Any sexual relations with Achashveirosh were, thus, clearly initiated by him, effectively against Esther’s desire. In this case, she would be the the one initiating contact with the king which, invariably would include sexual relations. This yields a major discussion in Jewish Law about how Esther could do this, however a powerful mitigating factor was the fact that this was undertaken to save the nation. Nevertheless, we recognize Esther’s specific personal tragedy of having to undertake this action – even to save the nation – by reciting these words in the sad tune that marks the tragedies of our history. See, further, T.B. Megilla 15a.
So in answer to your question – there really is no question because Esther did not want to marry a non-Jewish king.
One final note, though, it is also understandable that you may have thought that she did because that is clearly the way the story is presented in its fairy tale rendition found in the general market place. I recently saw a Hanna-Barbera cartoon on the Book of Esther and it clearly presented Esther as wanting to be queen. It should be noted, though, that this cartoon series about Bible stories was actually developed by Christians and presents the text with that slant. (I really noticed this in a cartoon from the same series about Moshe that had a cross in the hat worn by the cartoon Moshe.) It is important to recognize that presentations on the Bible in the general media do not necessarily present a Jewish perspective and, even more so, that the difference between a Jewish and a Christian perspective – even on the stories that both religions may share – can be vastly different. This case of Esther is but one example of this.
Question: Can we apply the lessons learned from the Maccabees in the story of Chanukah (to have courage, to stand up and fight, not to bow to outside pressures) to Israel's current struggle for its rights and independence?
The simple answer to this question would seem to be an obvious yes; of course we should learn from the heroes of our past. Upon further consideration, though, the answer may be more complicated that you might first expect. You outline the lessons that we might learn but are these really the lessons – or primary lessons – of the story? The fact is that the lessons that are actually to be learned may really be quite different. The current struggle in Israel is, of course, comparable to any battle in which those who fought demonstrated courage and stood up to fight for what they believed in and in that way we can clearly, of course, also learn from the Maccabees as you properly identify. Yet, in a more specific sense, the story of Chanukah actually reflected, in many ways, a different type of conflict than the one we are presently experiencing in Israel. In that regard, the lessons may be different than you might think.
First of all, in essence the battle of Chanukah actually began as a civil war; the Syrian Greeks only became involved at the request of Hellenists Jews who wished to introduce more Hellenist ideas into Jewish culture. This leads to the second major distinction between the present situation in Israel and the battle of Chanukah. This latter battle was an idealistic one, not nationalistic. While the present conflict in Israel does include some religious overtones, the essence of the battle is one between nations or ethnic groupings. In the case of Chanukah, the essential battle was really within one national identity, the Jews; the conflict was over which ideology should be dominant within the Jewish society. As such, when you present one lesson of Chanukah to be that we should not bow to outside pressure, while this is true, it was a different type of outside pressure to which the Maccabees stood up. The challenge for Israel today may, in part, revolve around the question of how to stand up to outside political and national pressure. The fight of the Maccabees was against a pressure of an outside value system that was influencing Jewish society and while it became a physical war, its essence was in the mind.
There is indeed a further lesson, that we can learn from the Maccabees, that is applicable to modern day Israel but it is not one that directly connects with the present nationalistic struggle tied to conflict with the Arab world. What the Maccabees also stand for is the need to maintain the uniqueness of our Jewish identity, being and meaning. This is not necessarily to say that there is nothing within the outside world from which we can benefit but the need is to declare what is primary. The battle of Chanukah was in regard to what would be primary – Torah or Hellenism? The Hellenists still wanted some traditional Jewish practices but only when they could also pass the sanction of Hellenism. For the Maccabees, Torah was primary and it was any Hellenist ideas that had to pass the test of Torah. This is still an important lesson for Israel today in its greater struggle in its broadest sense of finding its national identity – but it may not be a lesson of which you were thinking.
Question: We have made decision not to attend weddings between Jew and non-Jew as a statement that we do not approve of intermarriage. But now that our Jewish nephew has married a non-Jew, we felt that we should give him a wedding gift since it was after the fact. We felt that not attending the wedding was enough of a statement. I know that it sounds illogical, but we didn't want our family to think that we are mean people, but rather we were only making a statement before the fact and would not change the situation. Were we wrong in giving a wedding gift after the fact in this situation?
In my first draft of a response to your question, my focus was on the inherent conflict in values that you felt and which I believed motivated you to ask this question – your question not really being whether to inherently give a wedding present or not but rather whether to do so given that you had already decided to make a statement in not going to the wedding. You obviously felt that it was inherently proper to give a present but wondered about the effect of this action on your previous stance. I saw in this desire to give a gift a recognition of the value of tolerance within our society – and from which we Jews have greatly benefited – which calls upon us to respect the right of individuals to make personal decisions of this nature even though we may disagree. So I saw your question in the broader sense of how one can balance a personal value stance on an issue with the value which you also accept of tolerance of another who acts in disagreement with this viewpoint.
While I still believe that this issue is still very much part of your question, upon further reflection I began to recognize that in providing what I believe to be a Torah response to your issue, beyond simply responding to the conflict in values that you experienced, it would be first important to actually also look at the singular issues in themselves. Should one attend an intermarriage? A similar question could be asked in regard to attending a wedding between two Jews where non-kosher food is served or attending a same-sex wedding. At issue is the involvement one should have in an event that inherently includes an expression of a position with which one disagrees. Does my attendance reflect some acceptance of this position? Is it thus proper for me to attend?
The matter of the gift raises similar questions but also touches upon the more private issue of how one is to relate to another’s personal feelings. Your nephew experienced a joyful event, from his perspective, and you wish to share in this joy. On this level, you do not necessarily see this as reflecting a public expression of your stance and thus wish to give a gift. The more inherent question, though, may be whether it is proper to still share in this joy. Is it right, thus, in any such circumstance to give a gift? This individual is still your nephew.
The conflict of values that you are experiencing is still clearly a major part of this issue and there is a challenge in balancing one’s views with tolerance and respect for an opposing viewpoint. The essential question, however, is how the Torah views the entire situation. How are we to view a Jew who acts contrary to our understanding of how a Jew should behave? How are we to act in response to such behaviour? What we may find is that the various value considerations that we must undertake in response to such questions may actually yield what could be perceived to be contradictory behaviour.
Our first obligation is to follow Jewish Law so our initial question may be whether there is any violation of Halacha in attending an intermarriage. I am not speaking at this time in regard to the impression that one would be giving through this attendance but simply whether it is wrong simply to attend in its own right. There is an important distinction between the two. In regard to the latter perspective, we are solely focused on the behaviour itself. In regard to the first perspective, we are focused on the perception of others. If we state that a behaviour is inherently wrong, than the answer that we should not undertake this behaviour is pretty straightforward. If, however, we state that the issue really concerns the perception of others, than the evaluation of this perception is of major significance in regard to answering this question of behaviour.
To illustrate this issue, we could ask whether it is wrong for a person to watch another Jew eat a ham sandwich. We are not discussing in any way assisting this Jew in the consumption of this sandwich; that would involve concerns for the prohibition of lifnei ever and the further Rabbinic edicts to not assist an individual in sinning (see Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 232). Is there a problem with just being a spectator of a sinful action? It seems that there could be – that viewing something negative should be avoided – and there is also a concern for being in the company of sinful people but these are not absolute prohibitions but rather guides that must be considered in the greater context. (We could also ask the question of what exactly is the sin in the actual intermarriage wedding ceremony.) I would contend that you could not really say that it is absolutely forbidden to attend an intermarriage ceremony but that it should be something that someone should refrain from attending. The further question would then be the second part of this issue – the perception of others.
In this regard, there are actually two considerations that must be kept in mind. One is the perception, through attendance, that one is in agreement with what is occurring. This touches upon the issue of ma’arit ayin, of giving an impression about Jewish Law and one’s relationship to it that is negative. If people will assume, through attendance at an intermarriage that one is okay with it than this is a problem. It is a value not only to be observant of Jewish Law but also to be perceived as one who is so committed. So there is a concern in attending an intermarriage that you will be seen as one is believes it to be okay.
There is, however, also a duty of care in regard to other Jews, to assist in ensuring their observance and continued association with the Jewish world. This is found, in its simplest terms, in the command to rebuke other Jews if they act in violation of the law. See Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 239. A more thorough study of this command would show, though, that the command is not simply to rebuke but to take steps that would draw people to observe the law – and, as such, to specifically not rebuke if that will have negative consequences. See, further, Rabbi Moshe Weinberger, Jewish Outreach. In this regard, there could even be an argument to attend an intermarriage if there is a concern that non-attendance would create a rift that would drive the Jewish member of the couple further away from the Jewish community. (This is actually a further concern when it is the woman who is the Jewish partner for at issue would also be any future children of the union.) It is within this perception that we would also be highly concerned with issues such as tolerance and respect for individual decision-making. Showing disrespect to another is clearly a way to drive someone away from having any interest in Torah. The ultimate concern is the long term effect, not solely the short term perception.
In conclusion, what we find is that situations such as these demand true analysis and sensitivity to all the issues involved. In the end, the proper behaviour may be contradictory in its various details – and as such it may be that not attending yet giving a gift was the proper final conclusion in regard to what to do. On one hand, you wish to show your allegiance to the Jewish world. On the other hand, you wish to show your love for your nephew, not just abstractly but to you nephew. Both of these objectives indeed have value and so determining what to do is essentially most complex.
Question: During the High Holidays, in the process of teshuvah, we repent for past sins. I understand that in our (Jewish) view, repentance means that we are sorry for the sins that we have committed, we try to repair the injuries we have caused, we ask forgiveness from God and man, and we resolve to do better in the future. Christianity appears to have a very different idea of what it means to repent and atone for a sin, and how a sin is forgiven. Can you try to explain this difference, please (I understand that I am asking Jewish rabbis, and not Christians to speak to these differences)?
In approaching this question, it should first be recognized that, while most people may think of Judaism and Christianity as large monoliths, the reality is that they are not. There are, in fact, many significant distinctions between the various branches of each religion. As such, it is actually most difficult, because of the broad assumptions that need to be made, to answer such a general question in a complete manner within the constraints of this venue. In that you are asking this question to rabbis from different groupings within Judaism, though, you actually will be by-passing one side of this problem in that each of the ones responding to your question will be answering through the lens of his/her specific formulation of Judaism. (One of the most important values of the Jewish Values Online website is, in fact, the opportunity readers have to see the existent different views within the broader parameters of this monolithic Judaism – something which is, not only, not often seen but often almost intentionally ignored.) As to the presentation of Christianity, however – and in this regard I can really only speak for myself – we are left with the broadest of strokes. It is only with this caveat that I can continue.
In addition, it must also be recognized that I am not an expert on Christianity. I answer with a recognition of my limited study of this faith. It is, as such, only with my limited and broad, general understanding of that faith that I, indeed, can continue. At the same time, though, living within Western society with a culture founded on Christian, religious perspectives, I do believe that I still have somewhat of a general perspective on this faith and its distinctions from Judaism. I also asked my close friend, Rabbi Michael Skobac (Director of Education for Jews for Judaism in Canada) to review my answer specifically in regard to my assumptions about Christianity. This final answer, though, is, of course, still my own and my sole responsibility.
A possible starting point for our investigation could be the simple recognition that human beings sin – that is, do not act as God commands them or wishes them to act. This is clearly a serious matter and both Judaism and Christianity look upon sin most negatively. The greater question, however, is: how are we to look upon this reality, that human beings do sin? How are we to look upon this inherent imperfection in our being that even allows us to sin?
This is where the two part ways. Christianity believes that this imperfection within human beings that enables them to continually sin, that makes sin part of their inherent nature, was a product of the Fall of Adam and Eve. There was nothing positive about this event; the only consequence being the inherent imperfection of humanity as marked by their continuous involvement in sin. The further belief is that there is also no possible human way to correct this problem and so human beings need Divine Grace to save humanity from the consequences of its imperfection, its now evil nature. To repent within Christianity, as such, is to ask God to bestow this forgiveness on His totally unworthy creation.
While Judaism also acknowledges that Creation went through a massive upheaval (see, for example, the description in Ramchal, Da’at Tevunot) after Adam and Eve ate of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, its understanding of what occurred is very different. (For a further investigation of this event from a Jewish perspective, I would direct you to my Tree of Knowledge, Nishma Journal VII, VIII and IX – the last part being available online at http://www.nishma.org/articles/journal/tree3.htm.) The fact is that, in the very reality that Adam and Eve could have had even the ability to not follow the Word of God, human beings must have been inherently created imperfect, i.e. with the ability to sin. This actually is a fundamental principle within Jewish thought, that human beings were created imperfect as God wished to create a being that could perfect itself – or, at least, move in that direction. Simply, in order to give humanity the ability to grow, God had to create it with the need to grow – with a consequence of possible sin which reflects this weakness. Repentance, as such, within Judaism is this basic energy and process of growth with a focus on the individual improving oneself as well as forging a better relationship with God through this process. To illustrate, it is said of Rabbeinu Sa’adiah Gaon that as an act of chastisement in his daily teshuva process, he would roll in the snow (obviously during this time of the year). When asked why he did this, he responded that he was doing teshuva for not being the person yesterday that he was today.
To further illustrate this idea, allow me to reference Rambam, Perush Hamishnayot, Makkot 3:16. This is the famous mishna that states that God wished to benefit the Jewish People and so He gave them many mitzvot. The classic question on this statement is: why is this inherently beneficial? With many more mitzvot, there is also the possibility of more sins? Rambam explains that with many more mitzvot, there is a greater possibility of a person finding that one mitzvah that can be done in the most superlative way, that way that ensures full entry into the Future World. What Rambam seems to be saying is that it’s not about getting everything right but, rather, getting something right – and that what God bestowed upon the Jewish People was many more possible ways of getting that one thing right.
Human beings are imperfect and can never – especially on their own -- achieve perfection (after all, if they were perfect, they would be God). They, though, can make movements of growth. The Torah idea of teshuva is a recognition of this, not only as a truth but as the very essence of the Divine Purpose of Creation.
Question: Is a husband obligated to provide for his wife?
My husband and I have been married for one year. We are both in our sixties. I agreed to sign a prenup because my husband (who is financially quite comfortable) wanted to protect his estate for his son.
I have worked all my life and have always taken care of myself. I earn about half of what my husband does and never inherited any family money. The bottom line is that the prenup became very contentious and I saw the final version at the signing - 48 hours before our wedding. Our guests had already begun arriving. I walked out of the signing and spoke with my attorney who advised that this document was the "best he could do given that my husband started on the process two weeks before our wedding." Against my better judgement, I signed it. Within the first three months of our marriage I wanted it changed. We went to a therapist and he agreed to make changes. There have been continuous fights and multiple promises from him (lies) to make changes.To date, nothing has been done. My fear is that if something happens to him I will not be able to afford to live in the apartment that we presently share. My husband owns the apartment, our prenup stipulated that I pay him rent. EVERYTHING he has goes to his son. I secretly discovered his will- which he refuses to discuss with me. In order to be in compliance with state law he is obligated to leave me something. He is leaving me 2% of his estate and a minimum monthly allowance (administered by his son whom I don't care for) toward the apartment upkeep. Prior to our marriage I was an independent self-supporting woman had an apartment which I could easily afford, lived quite comfortably, and was not dependent on anyone. I gave away most of my furniture, have lost my apartment, and if something happens to my husband will be dependent on the generosity of his son. Even more shocking is that in his will it states, " If I am unable to keep up with the monthly maintenance for the apartment, the estate has the right to evict me in 90 days." My husband and I dated for 5 years prior to our marriage.I lived with him for two of those years although I always kept my own apartment. I saw him as generous of both his time and money to charity, overly generous towards his son, and as a well-liked and respected member of the community both professionally and socially. Until the prenup, I never experienced this side of him or had any indication that he would behave like this. Is this a moral and ethical way to treat one's wife ? What can I do?
On the surface, this would seem to be a pretty straightforward question to answer. Jewish Law clearly outlines that a husband is required to provide for his wife in regard to what is referred to as sh’eir, ksut v’onah, which can be simply translated as food (sustenance), clothing and intimacy. (See Shemot 21:10 with Rashi, noting, however, the comments also of Ramban.) A review of the Talmudic discussion of this obligation (for example, T.B. Ketubot 48a) clearly shows that the overall directive is that a husband has an obligation to maintain his wife in the manner that would be proper of a woman at the socio-economic level of the husband. As such, it would seem clear that, for example, a wife paying rent for staying in her husband’s apartment is problematic within the parameters of Jewish Law. The difficulty is that, also within Jewish Law, a husband and wife have some leeway to amend some of these obligations. For example, as a husband is obligated to support his wife, he also is prima facie given the right to the profits derived from his wife’s assets. The wife, however, may exempt the husband from supporting her in return for her keeping the profits of these assets. The reality is that Torah thought, while also acknowledging and fostering the desired romantic nature of a relationship, also recognizes the practical aspect of the marriage connection. In that regard, though, while setting certain base standards as a starting point in the formulation of these requirements within a union, it also does allow, to some extent, for some contractually negotiated leeway to amend these requirements. This, as such, would seem to take us to the case at hand. Did these subsequent contractual amendments violate the base, non-negotiable requirements of the parties?
(It must be recognized that it is with a certain hesitancy that we voice any opinion on this specific case as we have only been presented with the view of one of the parties. Before absolutely commenting on this actual case, it would be most important to also hear the other side. We are told, even more so, that a judge should only hear both sides of a case in the presence of the two sides. See Shulchan Aruch, Choshen Mishpat 17:5. As such, before honestly commenting on the ethical behaviour of the husband, it would be important to hear the husband’s side. Our comments as such should be understood within this context – that we are only responding to the facts as presented by one of the parties.)
There is actually a prior, and perhaps greater, problem that we face in responding to these questions. The reality is that these two parties actually worked out a legal arrangement pursuant to another legal system. The question of how Jewish Law would respond to this case thus touches upon the greater issue of how Jewish Law would respond to contractual relations as determined through another legal system. In such cases, in certain circumstances Jewish Law may accept these contractual determinations while, in other cases, it may not. When the wife now asks what is she to do, the question now becomes not simply what would Halacha say about the matter but to what extent are they bound, by Halacha, to this prenup as worked out by this other legal system. It may even be that she may have some action, within this other legal system, against her attorney for letting her sign such a contract [unless it may have been done against his advice], but that is not the issue before me. (I also do not wish to deal with the question of duress and whether this prenuptual agreement could be challenged on these grounds – grounds that would also have standing in a halachic discussion of a contract of this nature.) The question before me is not what I, as an ethical individual, think she should do pursuant to this other legal systems. The question before me is what I think Torah thought says about this case. To answer that question I have to first define the status of this contractual relationship, in all its details, within Jewish Law. That is the difficulty.
The fact is that Halacha, as with all legal systems, has its own requirements in regard to the formulation of the marriage bond and what it demands from individuals who are part of that contractual relationship. Applicable to our case would be, for example, the Jewish Legal demand, as part of a marriage, of a ketuba, a marriage contract outlining certain responsibilities of the husband and wife to each other. One of the required stipulations in this ketuba is a payment of a certain amount to the wife upon the death of the husband; this payment to have precedence to any claims of inheritance (as well as many other claims on an estate). If this marriage took place pursuant to Jewish Law and there was a ketuba, then there would clearly be problems with the prenup. If, however, this marriage was not pursuant to Halacha and there was no ketuba, this would actually be the issue, according to Jewish thought, not the prenup per se.
Jewish Law creates a certain legal environment for the contractual relationship of marriage. It is within this environment that it balances the variant rights and obligations of the parties to this relationship. While certain detailed principles seem to emerge from a review of this environment – such as a priority lien of a wife’s ketuba on a husband’s estate – it is important to recognize that this detail exists as part of the greater whole. It is thus often most difficult to determine how such ethical details would find applicability within other systems. If this marriage was done pursuant to Jewish Law with a proper ketuba then it is clear that the husband, according to Halacha, is acting in violation of Jewish Law and that the prenup has to be read within the parameters set by the ketuba. (This, of course, may not have standing in the secular courts but we can still state what the Torah ethical requirement is.) If, however, the marriage was formulated outside the structure of the Halacha, we would have to recognize some limitations in our ability to comment for to do otherwise would simply be an attempt to apply the standards set within one contractual relationship upon another.
Question: My girlfriend runs a business selling hand-spun tzitzit (fringes for a ritual prayer shawl). Recently, a customer asked her if he could send her his tallit (prayer shawl) and have her tie the new tzitzit directly onto it. She agreed, but was surprised to find, when the tallit arrived, that it was a Messianic (a non-Jewish, fully Christian group that usurps Jewish ritual and incorrectly incorporates it into non-Jewish worship) tallit, complete with a New-Testament quote on the atarah (the neckpiece). Would it still be OK to sell tzitzit to this customer? On the one hand, we're profiting from an arguably idolatrous practice, but, on the other, she's helping a (presumably) fellow Jew (albeit an apostate one) fulfill the mitzvah of wearing tzitzit. What Jewish values are at work here? And what should we do?
( A Caveat - While there are actually a variety of halachic issues embodied within this scenario, I have chosen, in response to this question, to focus solely on the issue of a Messianic Jew attempting to do a mitzvah [as I believe that to be the essence and purpose of this question from which we should not deviate]. I would ask the reader, as such, not to necessarily form conclusions of my opinion in Jewish Law regarding other aspects of this question. In the same vein, I have also not considered the possible repercussions in secular law, if there are any, for refusing to service or sell to a specific customer in these circumstances. By extension, I also did not deal with issues related to when there may be, as such, a conflict between secular law and Torah law. )
There is a fallacy in the minds of many Jews that Halacha is solely about practice and not thought. As such, many Jews have the incorrect idea that intent in the performance of a mitzvah is irrelevant; that the focus of Jewish practice is solely on behaviour and not what one is thinking. This, however, is not the case. T.B. Rosh Hashanah 28a,b (amongst other places in the Talmud) discusses the concept of mitzvot tzrichot kevana, questioning whether, to count as a fulfillment of a mitzvah, an act must be performed with the proper intent or not. For example, if someone happens to pick up a shofar on Rosh Hashanah and blows into without any thought that he would thereby be fulfilling a mitzvah, would this blowing of the shofar be deemed to have fulfilled the command, the mitzvah, to blow shofar on Rosh Hashanah? The conclusion of Jewish Law is actually no. Especially in regard to Biblical commandments, the dominant view within Halacha is mitzvot tzrichot kevana, to fulfill a command an act must be done with proper intent that one is thereby fulfilling the Will of God. As such, given that this person would not be wearing tzitzit with the proper intent, in approaching this question we should first recognize that there is no argument that through providing the tzitzit this woman would be helping a fellow Jew fulfil a mitzvah. She would not. Should she, though, still, do this? Can she do this?
T.B. Pesachim 50b (again amongst many other places) raises the idea of lo lishmah bah lishmah, that a deed even if performed without the proper intent may eventually still lead to a performance with the proper intent -- and, as such, performance without the proper intent should still be encouraged. This argument was actually one of those at the root of the Lubavitch tefillin campaign – that even though it could not be guaranteed that those putting on tefillin had the proper intent, there was still a possible educational or behavioural value in promoting this behaviour although, without the proper intent, it could not truly be defined as a mitzvah. (An additional argument that Lubavitch presented was that, in these circumstances, the minority opinions that declared that proper intent was not necessary in fulfillment of a mitzvah should also be relied upon.) Perhaps one could maintain that a similar argument of lo lishmah bah lishmah would be possible in our case and that it would be appropriate to supply this tzitzit as this behaviour may lead to an eventual proper fulfillment of this mitzvah with correct intent. The further problem in this case, however, is that we are discussing what would be halachically defined as a negative intent.
In regard to the discussion of mitzvot tzrichot kevana, while the debate focused on proper intent or simply no mitzvah intent, it was generally accepted that if there was negative intent – intent not to do a mitzvah, not to fulfil God’s Will, intent for some idolatrous purpose – there would clearly not be a mitzvah. This is the case here. We are not just dealing with a case of no intent or a secular intent (such as, for example, blowing a shofar because one simply wants to blow a horn). In our case, the intent is further problematic for it represents a contrary theological perspective than that of Halacha. One would not just be wearing tzitzit for some other reason but with a reason contrary to Torah thought – one, it could be said, is using the law in a way to defy the law.
The fact is that Jewish Law looks very negatively on the usurpation of Jewish religious ideals by foreign religious concepts especially if done by a Jew. Perhaps the most powerful example of this is the Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah 281:1 which states that a Sefer Torah written by a heretic is to be burnt. Even though, this Sefer Torah contains the name of God and, in every detail, looks exactly like any other Sefer Torah, the call is not just to not use it and not just to bury it but to actually destroy it. Intent matters, even to this extent. A holy object such as a Sefer Torah created with intent contrary to the recognition of its specific holiness within the parameters of Torah thought is to be burnt. The bottom line, as such, would be that there would seem to be no Jewish value in providing this tzitzit to this individual. In fact, it would be contrary to Torah values to do so.
So the straightforward answer would seem to be that you should not affix this tzitzit to this prayer shawl or in any way be involved in his manipulation of Torah into another religious system. In affixing this tzitzit to this tallis that reflects the views of another religion, one would really be called upon to desecrate Torah values and it would be clearly inappropriate. What if, though, the Messianic simply wished to buy the tzitzit and would affix them himself (or get someone else to do so)? My belief is one should still refrain from doing this as well, especially given the knowledge that the tzitzit would not be used properly. The issue here is not simply that you would be assisting a fellow Jew in doing an aveira, a sin, but also that you would be involved in the desecration of a Jewish religious object. Simply, Torah standards do not allow for you to be involved in providing tzitzit in this manner.
I should note in conclusion, though, that within cases such as this, a further consideration must always be the unique, personal situation. Perhaps, for example, through this sale you would be making a connection with this person and as a result perhaps could lead him away from these views contrary to Torah. The issue is actually a much broader one. How can anyone who sells Jewish religious items know for certain that all his/her customers will use the purchased items respectfully? Yet, if every time someone went to purchase an item of this nature they would face a third degree interrogation the result could be a strong decrease in interest in Torah. Every case of this nature has unique policy considerations and, as such, it is important in such matters to consult a Rabbi to discuss the particular circumstances and to determine the best possible alternative. Still, even the desire to do something good and bring a person back to the fold does not allow for transgression, especially of such a serious matter as profaning Jewish religious objects.
Rabbi Ben Hecht
Question: Is it possible to consecrate private property for a burial site? What are the requirements, according to Halachah - Jewish law (as opposed to secular law)? And if so, what kind of rituals does the consecration consist of and who may do so?
These type of questions are actually most interesting for they allow us to investigate how we have been influenced by the general Christian society around us and how our – the Halachic -- understanding of various matters is different. How we respond to death is one of these areas in which the distinctiveness of the Jewish perspective is often not truly recognized. People will, of course, note such things as shiva, the seven days of grieving, happening after burial while Christians generally pay their respects before burial but how many know that the focus of Jewish Law in response to death is the actual burial. I always find it interesting to see people attending a funeral, from the chapel even going to the cemetery, but then being upset if there is any delay because the grave is being covered. The perception is that the essence of a Jewish funeral are the eulogies and prayers. While not taking away from their importance, within the essence of a Jewish burial, from a Halachic perspective, it is clearly more significant to cover the grave – for family and members of the Jewish community to complete this most important mitzvah of laying someone in his/her final resting place – than to do anything else. The focus of a Jewish funeral is the practical necessity, and important obligation, to bury the deceased. Everything else is add-ons; important additions but not of the essence.
I mention this in regard to this question, for the underlying mindset of the Halacha, as indicated by this law of burial, is important to recognize in order to respond properly to this question. The idea of consecration seems to imply that ground must be somehow distinguished, made holy, in order to use it for burial. This is not the case within the Halacha. What distinguishes a Jewish cemetery in Jewish Law is that it is a place where Jews are buried. It is the graves themselves that declare this land to be distinguished, not any consecration ceremony. There are specific rules to guide us in response to how to treat a grave and a cemetery, i.e. a collection of graves, (see, for example, T.B. Nazir 64b, 65a) but it is the reality of graves that must be treated with respect, that ‘consecrates’ the land, not the other way around. This reflects the simple concept that the focus of Jewish burial is the practical burial.
Having said all this, though, in the same manner that we do have eulogies and prayers incorporated in our funeral service – in order to maintain the proper, Torah focus on what we are doing – we also do find a service that is recited when a Jewish cemetery is delineated. See Rabbi Hyman Goldin, HaMadrich: The Rabbi’s Guide. It consists primarily of the recitation of certain Psalms and other sections of the Bible. While this service may be referred to colloquially as a consecration ceremony, one should still recognize that that it is really not comparable to what may be referred to as consecration within other faiths. Such a service is not intended to change the land but, rather, it could be said, its focus is to direct the minds of individuals in relating to this land, in recognizing the significance of a cemetery. In fact, while there may be some issue in Jewish Law whether preparation alone (i.e. opening a grave before the placement of a corpse) may create a status of a grave with consequent restrictions, the conclusion of the Halacha is that it does not. See, further, T.B. Sanhedrin 47b,48a and Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah 349:1. In any event, the discussion concerns actual preparation in action, not simply the recitation of prayers.
Given all this, let us now return to the original, opening question. Rather than asking whether private property can be so consecrated, the real question is whether one can bury on private property – and the clear answer within the Halacha is yes. A perusal of the Bible will show that Jews had family burial plots on ancestral land and that is where members of a family were buried. Rema, Shulchan Aruch 363:2 states, even today, that if someone wishes to be buried at home -- i.e. on his private land -- we listen and do not bury the person in a communal cemetery. Of course, if this is done, steps must be taken to ensure that the grave is treated with proper respect.
Question: About the Six Remembrances. Lots of discussion about the six themselves. But some history and context please. When does the very idea of "the six" enter Jewish theological, textual or liturgical history? Do the rabbis discuss why God nominated THESE six, and not six others? Please advise
In a certain way, there really seems to be two parts to this question: one part specific to these Six Remembrances and the other reflecting a general inquiry regarding the whole process of Jewish Law. This dichotomy would seem to be inherent in the specific question of “why God nominated THESE six”. To correctly respond to such a question we would first have to look at the following sub-question: what is the connection between God’s direct communication to us at Sinai and these resultant Six Remembrances? That answer would necessarily demand of us to investigate the connection between Sinai and the present conclusions of Jewish Law – a topic well beyond our present parameters. So allow me to respond to certain aspects of your inquiry as they relate to the Six Remembrances specifically and hopefully you will find some of the information you seek and be motivated to continue the study.
In the commentary of Magen Avraham to Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 60:2, he mentions that, based upon previous sources which would seem to be Kabbalistic in nature, in fulfillment of what should be a daily activity, when a person recites certain words in the Ahavah Rabba prayer (which precedes the morning recitation of the Shema Yisrael prayer), one’s thoughts should be on the following 4 remembrances mentioned in the Torah:
1) To remember Sinai and the giving of the Torah, 2) To remember the attack of Amalek in the desert, 3) To remember what happened to Miriam when she spoke against Moshe, 4) To remember the Sabbath, with another opinion adding a fifth, 5) To remember the Golden Calf. The number 6 emerges when these 5 are added to the other daily remembrance that T.B. Brachot 12b states is to be a focal point of the last paragraph of the Shema prayer itself: 6) To remember the Exodus. A custom then developed to recite, after the conclusion of the morning prayers, the actual verses from the Torah that contain these remembrances. Rabbi Yaakov Emden, Commentary to the Siddur, explains that, while one’s mind may be on these remembrances during the recitation of Ahavah Rabba, it is better to actually clearly and directly vocalize them, especially in the language of the originating verses – and so he explains the custom and directs individuals to follow it. What is interesting about Rabbi Emden’s words, however, is that he then actually presents a full prayer built upon each verse of remembrance, also expanding therein upon their value. What is further interesting is that he also describes 10 remembrances, adding:
7) To remember that God is Source of all, 8) To remember the manna, 9) To remember that God saved our forefathers from Balak and Bilaam, and 10) To remember Jerusalem. This can then be contrasted to the presentation of Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch in his siddur where he only mentions 4 remembrances: the Exodus, Sinai, Amalek and Miriam. There are clearly differing views on this custom although the one that would seem to be the most accepted is the six. A key word is that this is all a matter of custom. The actual halachic obligation in regard to all these remembrances is a subject of much study and debate. Each one is a subject of its own investigation of whether the originating verse is an actual obligating directive or simply good advice and if it is the former, whether it is a daily, annual or other type obligation. Many other questions also emerge such as: why the statement regarding Sinai, unlike the others, is phrased in the negative – to not forget our congregation at Sinai (framed as a negative Biblical command by Nachmanides, Addendum to Maimonides Negative Commandments, 2). One interested in continuing this study may find Encyclopediat Talmudit 12:198-226 a good place to start.
Bottom line, though, it is important to recognize that remembering past events in our history is important to us. We are not to remember just the good but also past failings so that we can thereby learn from them. We are still also to remember the good for thereby we can appreciate what God has done for us. The present is the result of the past and remembering is of great significance to us for we are never to break this chain that connects us with the Jewish nation of every epoch in history.
Question: I live in Israel, where most people eat “kitniot” on Pesach (Passover) and it can be hard to find non-kitniot products. Can I “break” my family’s tradition of not eating kitniot because it’s so much harder to keep in Israel?
Your question is actually most complex, extending beyond the narrow issue of kitniot and entering into the halachic realm of communal structure, a realm that actually demands much more investigation in our present world.
To start off though, in regard to the specific issue of kitniot itself, I should first direct you to Rabbi Alfred Cohen, "Kitniyot in Halachic Literature, Past and Present," Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society VI which is a very fine article outlining the whole issue. Kitniot, of course, are foodstuffs with which -- while not true chametz -- a custom developed in Ashkenazic (European) Jewish communities to forbid their consumption on Pesach. In this regard, as Rabbi Cohen points out, there is much debate on what foodstuff is included in this custom and this disagreement as to the exact definition of kitniot could be a significant issue in response to your question. The answer may be different depending upon the specific item of kitniot that is the subject of your question. In a similar regard, the answer may also depend upon your specific family custom rather than the general or more prevalent custom. Your family’s history in moving to Israel may also be a factor for the real issue is not kitniot but rather custom.
There is a principle in Jewish Law that custom has the authority of law. Minhag avoteinu Torah, the customs of our forefathers are Torah. See, for example, Rema, Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah 376:4. What this means, however, is often misunderstood. What it effectively is stating is that once a Jewish community begins a practice, that practice after it has been established over time, becomes binding on the members of the community. There are caveats upon this statement, though. This only occurs, for example, if the practice developed under the watch of someone versed in Jewish Law, thus allowing for the conclusion that it was developed with the consent of this individual or, at least, without his objection. As such, we thereby assume that there must have been a legitimate reason for this custom to have developed and, even as we may now not know the actual original reason, the custom has the force of law, at least to some extent. This parameter is important. While a Biblical law can be overridden, for example, only when life itself is threatened, it may be that a custom could be overridden because of a lesser issue. This could be another matter that needs to be addressed in regard to this question. What exactly is the problem? Inconvenience itself may not be enough of a reason to override a custom but perhaps the exact nature of the problem may be a good reason.
The essential issue, however, is this concept of custom. Most people think that the rules are tied to actual family; in fact, this is not true. The rule is tied to community. One is bound by the practices of his/her community. The question then arises: what happens if someone moves? While there are many factors involved in presenting a correct response to a specific question of this nature, the simple answer is that (a) if someone moves to a place that has no established custom, that person must continue the customs of the place from which he/she came; and (b) if someone is moving to an established place with established customs, the person must generally adopt the customs of the new place. So if, in 1700, an Ashkenazi moved from a community, let us say Krakow, that kept the prohibition of kitniyot to a Sephardic place, let us say Fez, that did not keep this prohibition, it may be that this person would then be able to eat kitniyot on Pesach but the person would then have to adopt all the Sephardic customs. This may be another aspect of this issue in this case. The question may not be whether you can eat kitniyot or not but whether you can now choose to join a Sephardi community and adopt all their customs?
This leads us to the issue of Israel and the multitude of variant communities within this land. At least, that is the situation today but, historically, Israel was originally a Sephardic community. This has led some people to presently argue that since, when the Ashkenazim, first came to Israel, as they were really now entering a Shephardi community, they should have adopted Shephardi customs, as such, these Ashkenazim should have dropped this prohibition of kitniyot. The problem with this argument is that these Ashkenazim did not come as individuals per se but as a group and formed their own community with Ashkenazic rules, right at the beginning, which was their right. In addition, if one would adopt this argument, it would mean that one would have to effectively become a Sephardi beyond the issue of kitniyot. The question, though, is that, given that there is much choice that one would have as to possible communities, what choice does one have in choosing his/her community? It would seem that regardless of what one’s actual family background would be, if a person is now living in a community, under the leadership of a recognized Rabbinic individual who would provide correct halachic guidance, i.e. an appropriate judge of the Torah law, the person would be bound by the customs of this community – and if this community allowed kitniyot or, at least, took more lenient positions of this law, it would not only be okay but it would actually be appropriate to follow the customs of this community in which one lives.
This leads to a final issue. Can a new community structure with new customs be formed given the past family history of its members? We know what happens if an Ashkenazi moved to Fez and what happens if a Sephardi moved to Krakow. We also know what happens if a group of Ashkenazim or Sephardim move to a place without a community. In speaking to other Rabbis, we found it very unclear of what would happen if 5 Jews from Fez and 5 Jews from Krakow came to a new place – how would they establish minhagim? Of course, much would depend on the Rabbi of this new community as his particular conclusions would have more weight. Anyways, you are beginning to see the true complexity of this question.
So, in conclusion, what I would say is what is necessary is for you, as an individual, to recognize that you do not live in a vacuum but rather within the context of a local Jewish community with a Rabbi who provides halachic direction to the community and its members. The answer lies in determining what is your community and following its practices. It may be that you may wish to determine which community you favour based upon its kitniyot rules. That may be your prerogative – but then you are still bound to the general rules of the community as well.
Question: One of Purim’s (reportedly) most beloved traditions is to drink “until you can’t tell the difference between evil Haman and righteous Mordechai.” Is drunkenness really a Jewish value? What about for those who have issues with drinking (nazirites, and recovering alcoholics, for example)? [Administrators note: A related question about drinking on Purim is found in the JVO database at http://www.jewishvaluesonline.org/question.php?id=364]
It should not be surprising that the essence of this question actually also bothered many Torah scholars over the centuries. The famous Chafetz Chaim in his Biur Halacha, Orach Chaim 695, note 1 phrases the problem most succinctly. How could the Sages have created an obligation to drink to this extent knowing full well the many references, in all the holy books, of the great ethical obstacle presented by drunkenness? If anything, the question is even voiced louder today. The media around us is filled with the faults of too much alcohol. The ethical call of abstinence, especially in response to the potential for drunkenness, is actually given merit almost across the political and moral spectrum; both liberals and conservatives seem to agree on the ‘evil’ of too much alcohol. Yet we find the Sages having instructed us not only to drink some alcohol on this day but to drink enough to become drunk. Indeed, how could they have so instructed us?
The first step in responding to this question may lie in the recognition that they did not so instruct all of us. Biur Halacha, note 2 clearly states that one is only commanded to drink if one can ensure that, through this consumption of alcohol, there will be no lessening of halachic, i.e. ethical, standards in one’s behaviour. He further adds that, for one who cannot make this assurance, it is clearly better not to become drunk. It would seem that with such a formulation of the law, the Sages are actually challenging this critique of the law by asserting that the concern behind the critique is inapplicable. This law is questioned because alcohol can have a negative effect on individuals. The answer is that anyone who would be so negatively affected by such drinking is not only exempt from this law but is, furthermore, not even allowed to drink. How can the Sages have instructed individuals to drink given the potential negative effects of such drinking? Because they did not instruct any individual who could experience such negative effects to drink; in fact it is forbidden for such a person to drink. The further answer is that Halacha actually maintains a view of alcohol and drinking that is different than the view that is generally believed.
. Rabbi Pinchas Stolper, Purim in a New Light, speaking of Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner, the famed Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshiva Chaim Berlin, states that, on Purim “the Rosh Yeshiva himself took his drinking quite seriously, but never revealed the slightest sign of being affected by it.” The issue is the cause-and-effect of alcohol. The general assumption of our modern world is that the relationship between alcohol and behaviour is direct; that the consumption of alcohol will necessarily lead to certain behavioural results. The view of Halacha, it would seem, is somewhat different. Although you could not say this about many or even most, the Halacha believes that there are some, as a result of their righteousness, who, even when drunk, can maintain control, to a large extent, over their behaviour. It is only such individuals who the Halacha is instructing to drink ad d’lo yadah, until they do not know this distinction of cursing Haman and blessing Mordechai. The Halacha would also seem to maintain a further understanding with which our general world may disagree: that some individuals can know whether they can exhibit such control over behaviour even while under the influence of alcohol. It is, as such, that the Halacha can instruct individuals regarding drinking. Those who know that they can control their behavior under the influence of alcohol should attempt to drink to this extent on Purim. Those who cannot, or are not sure if they can, should not so drink. Yet, if those who are commanded to drink are only those who will not be affected by the drinking, why is there this command to drink in the first place?
The answer must be that there is still a recognition within the Halacha that a human being will be affected by alcohol; it is just the person’s behaviour that need not be affected. Our modern society may find such a theory problematic because it believes that the stimulus-behaviour connection in human beings is direct. Stimulate the human being is a certain way and there will be a certain result. Halacha recognizes, however, that there is another factor in this realm of cause-and-effect and that is the human will. It is true, in a human being with limited will power, there may only be a reality of the direct flow of cause-and-effect. The Halacha believes, though, in the ability of human beings to develop their wills so that they can exercise some control over the relationship of cause and effect. This is the challenge of life. It is thus a fundamental concept within Halacha that one can reach a level that, albeit being under the influence of alcohol, one’s will is strong enough to control the cause-and-effect to ensure that even in that state there is no negative behaviour. It is such an individual who is commanded to drink. But still, why?
T.B. Eruvin 65a,b discusses the variant effects of wine on the human being. From the presentation of this gemara, a mixed message about alcohol seems to emerge. In certain ways, alcohol may be beneficial for the human being; in other ways it may not. It would seem that alcohol can affect the feelings of a person which, in turn, can affect behaviour. The effect on feelings can be most beneficial, helping one, for example, in the grieving process. The effect on action, though, can be most detrimental. This is the basic structure of a direct understanding of the cause-and-effect of wine: alcohol affects emotions which affects behaviour. What the Halacha is basically asserting is that human will, if righteously developed, can affect this cause-and-effect yielding that alcohol can affect emotions while still being prevented by the human will from further affecting behaviour negatively. This is the directive of ad d’lo yado. The joy of Purim should be such that it should be magnified through the stimulus of alcohol which can intensify these emotions of joy. The problem is that these emotions stimulated by alcohol can also further lead to uncontrolled negative behaviour which is what happens in the general populace. Indeed that is a problem and, as such, a member of the general populace must be very wary of using alcohol to increase joy. For the person of will, though, who can exercise that control, the call of Purim is to feel the extreme in joy and, as such, to properly use alcohol to further this feeling.
Question: Should we look for or expect to see “Jewish values” in US presidential candidates?
This is a most interesting question for it involves many side issues that need to be elucidated. First, we must clarify the exact nature of the question as the two verbs that drive this question – ‘look for’ and ‘expect to see’ -- reflect two very distinct undertakings. The former is of a more active nature, asking of us, it would seem, whether we should be searching for Jewish values in the candidates. The latter would seem to be of a more passive nature, asking of us, it would seem, even if we should be able to identify Jewish values in the candidates. The further implication of this distinction could be in the role we assign to the integration of Jewish values in our evaluation of a candidate. The former, asking of us whether we should actively look for Jewish values in a candidate, would seem to imply that this should be an important criterion in our selection process. The latter, asking of us if we should even expect to see an integration of Jewish values in a candidate, would seem to imply that this, at least for pragmatic reasons, may not be a significant factor by which to render a decision. It would seem that before we even tackle what we may describe as the substantive question of the role of Jewish values in an election, we may have to consider the nature of the very relationship those outside of the Jewish world may have with Jewish values. Second, of course, is the very issue of defining what Jewish values are. Regular readers of the Jewish Values Online website will no doubt recognize the powerful challenge this question presents for there are significant value differences between the branches of Judaism. I remember watching President Obama’s recent address to a convention of Reform Judaism, noting the powerful applause he received – and expected to receive – in response to certain comments. I also noted that if these same statements were made to a convention of Orthodox Judaism, the response to these very same statements would be the opposite and most negative. To those attending the Reform convention, the statements of President Obama would be presented as reflecting Jewish values; at an Orthodox convention they would be perceived to be attacking of Jewish values. So before we answer as to whether we should look for or expect to see Jewish values in US presidential candidates, we have to first define what we mean by Jewish values. Continuing along this chain of thought, we may also wonder about what may even be the distinction between what we may term Jewish values and general universal values. When President Obama spoke at the Reform convention, he knew what to expect. There was no doubt that in the minds of the delegates – and perhaps even the President – there was a perception that he was maintaining Jewish values as defined within the parameters of Reform Judaism. Yet these values were not unique to Jewishness but reflected the values of many members of the general population. They could be said to reflect a certain perception of what would be a universal value consciousness. So the question is not simply what are Jewish values but also what makes these values distinctively Jewish so that they can be defined by this particular term. It may be that we wish to describe certain values as Jewish because the root of such values emerged from the Jewish world; indeed many of the values within Western society did begin within the ancient Jewish world. Is this, though, what we now mean by the term Jewish values; they are the values that originated within the societal confines of the Jewish People? But so what? Why is it important for us to identify these Jewish values – except, perhaps, to feel the pride of being the originators? From his perspective, we may wonder why it would even be important to identify the Jewish values within a candidate. All that should really matter is whether we agree with his/her values regardless of their origin. We clearly would want to identify the values that are the basis for a candidate’s decisions – but why care if the origin is Jewish? We should just care if we agree or not. There is, though, perhaps, another way of defining what we may mean by Jewish values that would reflect a more specific, and narrower, understanding of the term and could have a more specific relationship to the Jewish People – and thus could be of a more particular purpose to us. By the term Jewish value, we could be referring to positions that are favourable to the Jewish People. For example, in this context, the support of Israel could be considered a Jewish value. Our question in that case would then be whether we should look for or expect to see the assurance of such support in a US presidential election. Again, in this context, the difference between ‘look for’ and ‘expect to see’ would be significant, but on the surface, we could offer a simple answer that we would clearly want a US presidential candidate to have such a value, i.e. a positive disposition toward the Jewish People. The exact nature of this support, though, may still be a question. There may be different ways by which a person could promote his/her support of the Jewish People, i.e. express such a Jewish value, with some positions expressing this stand being in conflict with others expressing this very same stand. It may actually be that two individuals, honestly declaring their support of the Jewish People, could adopt two diametrically opposite practical positions. Again we would be left with the need for us to determine our support for a candidate based upon our personal perceptions of the values maintained regardless of generic terms. There is, however, one more point I would like to make in this regard and this is one that I offer specifically as an Orthodox rabbi. Maimonides, Shemona Perakim, Chapter 6 presents a distinction between two different types of mitzvot: Chukkot, the commandments whose sole basis is Revelation itself, and Mitzvot Sichliyot, the commandments which have a rational basis. For example, the prohibition of eating pork would be an example of the first category – the only reason we observe such a command is because God has so directed us. Maimonides goes so far as to state that we are not even to develop moral feelings in regard to such mitzvot – for example to feel that it is intrinsically disgusting to eat pork – but we are to even perceive that this action in itself is not problematic; we solely desist because that is God’s Will. An example of the second category would be the prohibition of murder. In regard to such directives, we are not only to abstain from such behaviour because God has so ordered us but we are also to feel the immorality of such an action. Unlike eating pork, we are to feel that murder is disgusting and inherently wrong. This recognition is, in my opinion, very important in the context of this question. There are times where we, as Jews bound by Torah commandments, may share certain standard conclusions with others yet would still not share the same moral structure and thought processes. There are cases where, for example, we may observe a certain standard because it is a chok even others from a different religious perspective may believe this standard to be a correct moral outlook – a view we may even find challenging to accept. It is thus important for us to recognize that, even as we may wish to define another as having a ‘Jewish value’ because we both share the same conclusion, this may not actually be the case. There still may be a wide chasm in underlying moral concepts. The bottom line may be that there may be a point in looking for or expecting to see Jewish values in a US presidential candidate but there may be an even further point in being able to identify and articulate how we, as Jews, do not share underlying moral and ethical concepts with someone even as we may reach, for completely different reasons, the same action conclusion. Question: JTA is reporting that a New York area rabbi has invoked Mesira as a legal defense. How is this concept reconciled with dina d'malkhuta dina? Which concept is paramount?
Of course, to properly answer this question, it is important for us to clearly define these two Halachic (Jewish Legal) terms that are being introduced, namely mesira and dina d’malkhuta dina. However, prior to this, it may first be important to understand the context in which these terms are applied.
The ideal manifestation of the Jewish People is to live as an independent nation in the Land of Israel under the legal system of the Torah. It is important to recognize that Jewish Law is not just a system of religious law but that it is a full legal system upon which a Jewish society is to be based. Halacha, as such, touches upon all aspects of civil law, contractual law, taxation – the whole gamut of what is legally necessary for a well-functioning society. And we, the Jewish People, in our observance of Torah are ideally to be a well-functioning model society on our land.
Exile, as such, is not just a personal misfortunate that has tragically impacted negatively on Jews as individuals. Exile also had a communal impact in that our Jewish society was thereby placed in the midst of other societies – often other societies that not only did not share our value constructs but also were hostile towards us. The fact that our society was uprooted from our land and our independence, however, did not mean that we were to totally forsake any attempts to maintain our uniquely Jewish societal constructs to the greatest extent possible. With Exile, we were given the challenge of trying to exist as individual Jews under the pressures to conform from a greater population of non-Jews with different mores. We were also, however, given the challenge of maintaining, to the greatest extent possible, the constructs of a Jewish society with Torah as our legal backbone as we also exist within the confines of the host and dominant society.
So, one of the challenges facing the Jewish People in Exile is how they are going to survive as a corporate entity within the bosom of the corporate entity of the greater society. This may involve two distinct issues. One would be what to do to protect the community in the face of a hostile host society – for example, when the host society imposes unfair taxation demands upon its Jewish inhabitants. The other may be how to maintain the distinctive nature of the Jewish community and ensure, to the greatest extent possible, its unique value and legal perspective. Consideration must also, though, be made for the necessary well-functioning of the host society for reasons of law and order, in general and in regard to the Jewish community. Mishna Avot 3:2 instructs us to pray for the welfare of the government for without its proper functioning there will be mayhem. See, also, Yirmiyahu 29:7 in reference to Exile. We are to support the workings of the foreign society in which we find ourselves yet this should not be at the expense of our fair treatment and a proper expression of our uniqueness.
It is with an understanding of the tension of these directives that we can best understand the terms mesira and dina d’malkhuta dina. The former, mesira, instructs us not to give a Jew over to non-Jewish authorities. We can especially understand such a restriction if the host society is a hostile one and there is also concern that the consequences could be unfair both to the individual Jew and/or the Jewish community. This prohibition, though, may also extend to situations where the host society is not hostile; our concern, in such a matter, would be our desire to deal with the matter within our own Jewish perspective. Mesira, though, is not a blanket prohibition. At the same time, there would be cases where it would even be our obligation to assist the authorities in capturing and convicting even a fellow Jew – such as in the interests of law and order if this person was a violent criminal. This, of course, is only a very brief introduction to the concept and issue of mesira. There are many other factors that may be involved in responding to a query as to when a prohibition of mesira is applicable and when it is definitely not. Bottom line, it is a balancing of considerations between maintaining support of the functioning of our host society while also maintaining a certain level of our unique independence.
It is a similar balancing of values that is represented in the concept of dina d’malkhuta dina, which translated simply means that the law of the land is the law, namely that Halacha recognizes the law of the host country as binding. This construct, though, clearly has its limitations. If, for example, the law of a host country outlawed circumcision, Halacha, clearly, would not accept it; Jewish law would not respect as binding a law of the host country of this nature. Basically, this maxim concerns monetary matters and in its most restrictive interpretation applies to taxation, that the tax laws of a host society, if just, are binding on the Jewish community. The maxim in its most limited understanding basically instructs the Jewish community that we are to consider the laws of a host society, that are enacted to promote the proper functioning of the society, to be considered binding as well by Jewish Law. As a first extension from taxation, this would also apply to enactments for law and order. There are further understandings of this maxim that also declare it applicable in other, essentially monetary, matters. A contravening value consideration to this may be our desire to maintain the uniqueness of our Jewish perspective. With this in mind, there may be some argument to limit the application of the laws of the host society. Bottom line, again, it is a balancing of considerations between maintaining support of the functioning of our host society while also maintaining a certain level of our unique independence.
To further investigate the details of these two principles, I would direct you to the following:
Rabbi Hershel Schachter, “’Dina De’Malchusa Dina’: Secular Law as a Religious Obligation”, The Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society 1:103; Returning to the original question, we see that at issue is really this balancing of considerations. Mesira may be the term that is used to reflect the value in maintaining the independence of the Jewish community which may include a concern that Jews may not be treated fairly by members of the host society. Dina d’malkhuta dina may be the term that is used to reflect the value of respecting the laws of the land and the call to be good citizens especially in a land that not only has not been hostile to the Jewish community but has even been welcoming and supportive. Without knowing the specific case to which this rabbi made this statement, it is difficult to actually comment on the rabbi’s position. Similarly, it is difficult to state unequivocally that dina d’malkhuta dina clearly applies. I can only say that in regard to most of the recent cases where I have heard of such arguments, an argument of mesira would clearly not be normative. Considerations for the defaming of God’s Name (chilul Hashem) also are to become a factor in limiting charges of mesira. We are called upon to be good citizens – good members of the nation in which we live. We are also called upon to be good Jews – good members of the Jewish nation. The answer is not to pick one over the other but to attempt to accomplish both. In an environment where this would be possible, this clearly must be our goal. Question: Is it normal or acceptable to be confused about the truth of God this day and age? Can one have doubts or be uncertain and still be a "good Jew?"
Responding with another question, I could ask: how could it be possible for a normal person in this day and age not to be confused? The issue actually goes beyond our day and age: how could anyone in any time not be confused about the truth of God? The simple answer is that, during those times in history when there were open miracles and clear prophecy, it would seem that the truth of God was pretty straightforward. In fact, the Torah text itself (Shemot 7:5, for example) states that one of the very purposes of the plagues in Egypt was to establish, without any doubt, the truth of God. Indeed, Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Yesodei HaTorah, Chapter 8 points to the fact that one of the most important elements of the Revelation at Sinai is that there was no doubt, amongst those who witnessed this event, that God presented Himself at Sinai. The relevant issue for us, though, is how we are to look at this issue of the truth of God when such open miracles are not existent. Clearly, it would seem to be normal to be confused about the truth of God without such obvious evidence.
Perhaps, the clearest indication that Jewish Law recognizes the reality of this confusion is the various statements within the Halacha which accept a possible reality of lack of knowledge and confusion leading to a subsequent non-culpability for violation. Ignorance of the law, for example, is an excuse within Jewish Law; before a conviction, there must be a clear cut indication that a violator accepted the authority of the law. (See Encyclopediat Talmudit 11:292, Hatra’ah) One who was unsure of the truth of God and, as such, the authority of the law could not be found guilty. (It should be noted that there was a limitation on this principle in cases which affected societal law and order, however, a further discussion of this legal issue is beyond the parameters of the specific topic of this response.)
As another example, Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Mamrim 3:2 also states, although there are strict laws of censure against a heretic, one who was brought up under the influence of such heresy is basically exempt from such consequences for that person is not responsible for having such beliefs. The truth of God is not so obvious that we can expect someone to clearly have this knowledge. In addition, although I have not personally seen a statement of this nature, it is often presented in the name of the Chazon Ish (Rabbi Abraham Isaiah Karelitz, 1878-1953) that in the absence of clear, open miracles in our present world, it is impossible to declare anyone today a heretic subject to the censures of the law. (I should, perhaps, mention that I have seen something of a similar nature by the Chazon Ish, although not as far reaching, in his comments on the laws of kashrut.)
The greater question may now be why this is so. Why does God not make knowledge of His Existence obvious? In that God did make this Knowledge more obvious at certain times in history and less so at other times, such as our own, we may further wonder: why this is so? It must be that every generation has its own challenge that it must confront and, at times, this challenge is built upon clearer knowledge while at other times it is built upon less clear knowledge. Times of less clear knowledge demand of us, for example, to consider how we know anything and how to think and render decisions in such circumstances; this may in fact be our generation’s challenge. In a certain way the goals of Torah are measured not by the conclusions we reach but the effort that we apply in trying to meet God's goals for us. As such, the real issue for us is not the confusion about the truth of God that presently exists but rather how we respond to this challenge.
(Someone truly interested in this topic may be interested in researching the various different viewpoints that are found in Torah sources in regard to how one knows of the truth of God. Rambam, for example, clearly understood it to be a result of intellectual, logical inquiry. Rabbi Yehuda Halevi, Kuzari, on the other hand, felt it emerged from an intuitive perception of our souls. The very fact that there is disagreement, debate and discussion about this most basic of issues truly reveals, in my opinion, the essence of what Torah truly is about. It is a guide to our struggle with reality. To meet the challenge of this struggle is what God demands of us.)
Question: I hear the question asked, but I have not heard a good answer to it: for both purposes of inclusion, and for Israeli citizenship, what is a Jew?
I would begin by first noting that you say you hear this question asked but, if you pause for a moment, you will recognize that, in the actual way you framed the question, it is generally not asked. What you usually hear asked is the question of ‘who is a Jew’ but the question, as you framed it, ‘what is a Jew’, is actually rarely asked. This is really most unfortunate, in my opinion, and may be the first problem that must be faced in approaching this subject. This may also explain your disappointment in the answers you have heard. Asking the question of ‘who’ before the question of ‘what’ is like asking how one becomes a member of a certain group before describing the exact nature of this group. Of course, how one answers the ‘who’ question may inherently indicate how this person would also answer the ‘what’ question, but it does so with a lack of clarity and in a roundabout way. The question of ‘what’ is clearly not tackled head on. It may just be that people think the answer is so obvious and shared by everyone – when in reality it is not. It may, however, also be that people are wary of facing this question because they are not sure of where a subsequent discussion will take them. There may be a concern that the result may be a clear recognition of the extent of the difference in viewpoints that exist on this fundamental question – and that such a clear enunciation of the differing views would have strongly negative consequences. It is my belief, though, that the opposite is actually the truth. For us to meet this challenge – the challenge of Jewish identity and unity – it is actually important to confront this issue, rather than avoid it. We must ask the question ‘what’.
To fully approach this question, though, we must recognize that it really has two parts. First, it asks of the individual to present his/her answer to the question. This would demand of me to present my theoretical understanding of the nature of the group termed ‘the Jews’ pursuant to my belief in the principles of Orthodox Judaism. In a certain way, with this answer I would be explaining what I think this term should mean. Second, though, in that this definition is not shared by all Jews but, rather, in that there are other definitions of this group termed ‘the Jews’, there would be an additional demand to consider whether it is possible to arrive at a further definition that could combine these other definitions into one whole. On a certain level, this would represent a more practical issue with an answer attempting to formulate if these variant definitions can connect – and if yes, how.
As a starting point, we must recognize the challenge that is before us. Jewishness seems to combine religion and nationhood (or ethnic identity) but what we often do not recognize is the difficulty presented by this combination. How can religion and nationhood combine: they refer to different constructs? Nationhood refers to some shared genetic or social construct. Religion reflects a different type of bonding based upon an ideological position, a certain view of life and reality. Some may contend that such a combination is not really so strange, after all many national entities would seem to combine the two. For example, when we think of Italians, we think of Roman Catholics. There are, however, many differences between this combination of nationhood and religion and that expressed by the term Jew. There are Roman Catholics who are not Italians and there are Italians who are not Roman Catholics. They are two different types of groupings that happen to converge, to a large extent, in a certain population. The term Jew, though, would seem to inherently reflect these two types of groupings in themselves – Jew defines religion, Jew defines ethnic grouping. How can this one term ‘Jew’ mean both?
To answer this question pursuant to Halacha, we must first recognize that Orthodox Jewish Thought perceives its theology as actually universal. It is expected that all human beings should know and accept the One God as defined by the tenets of this theology. As such, the term Jew may categorize an individual as a believer in, what we may term, this universal religion of Judaism; being an adherent of Judaism, itself, would not necessarily define one as a Jew. The fact is that throughout history there have been individuals who believed in this universal religion of Judaism who were not Jewish. In our present time, such individuals are referred to as Noahides (or Noachides); a simple Google search of this term will reveal approximately 279,000 responses (see http://www.google.ca/#sclient=psy-ab&hl=en&source=hp&q=noahide&pbx=1&oq=noahide&aq=f&aqi=g4&aql=&gs_sm=s&gs_upl=1781l5603l0l8910l7l5l0l0l0l1l1118l3124l3-2.0.1.1.1l5l0&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.,cf.osb&fp=ce27fe47b2a800b8&biw=984&bih=533).
What this universal religion of Judaism then does is distinguish between two different groupings of humanity, Jews and non-Jews, presenting different directives (Codes) to each. The specific term Jew, as such, refers to a specific grouping, specifically nation, within this religious perspective that has a specific code of conduct that is different from the rest of humanity. This nation is formed out of the religion and is identified to further serve the goals of this religion in a special significant way. The term Jew thus identifies an individual as a member of this unique nation to which God has given a special code of conduct.
This recognition is necessary to fully understand the two different standards that are applied in defining members of the Jewish group. According to Halacha, the first definition of a Jew is one born to a Jewish mother (T.B. Kiddushin 66b). This would seem to point to Jewishness as an ethnic identity. In that being born to a Jewish mother would not seem to reflect any ideology, this definition would actually seem to challenge a perception of Jewishness as reflecting a religious perspective. What the Halacha is really stating is that, within this universal religious perspective, one way we can identify members of the Jewish nation who are bound to the unique Code of Torah is that they include those who are born to a Jewish mother. What of someone born to a Jewish mother who does not believe in this religion? That person is still Jewish, i.e. an individual who is Divinely commanded to meet the standards expected of members of the Jewish nation.
This leads us to the second definition of a Jew, according to Halacha: one who has gone through a process of gerut, generally translated as conversion. If we understand Halacha as perceiving Jewishness as defining those who are bound to a special code of conduct, gerut would thus be the process by which one outside this group, not so commanded, can become a member of this group and become commanded. It could thus be expected that the essence of the process would be the verification that this person wishing to enter this group indeed will meet these standards of this group. This brings the matter back to the realm of religion and may explain why this process is described as conversion, a process by which one joins a different religion. As mentioned above, it is actually expected of non-Jews that they should also accept the tenets of universal Judaism so gerut is not a process, really, by which one changes his/her faith. Gerut, though, still demands the acceptance of this theological perspective for, to be part of this process -- whereby one, not within this nation with this special Code, can join this special nation -- there, first, has to be an acceptance that this nation has this special Code. As such, Halacha perceives as the first necessity of one wishing to become Jewish a commitment to meet such obligations. It is kabbalat mitzvoth, acceptance of the commandments, which is the prime focus of conversion for within the purview of Halacha, this is what it means to be part of the Jewish nation.
So what is a Jew according to Halacha? A Jew is a member of the Jewish nation, a nation that was distinguished by God and given unique tasks in His service as defined in the Halacha. One born Jewish is one born with these responsibilities even if he/she does not recognize it. To become Jewish, though, someone must recognize what it really means to be Jewish – bound to these responsibilities – and accept this obligation.
Now we can go on to the second part of this answer. It is clear that not every person who calls himself/herself a Jew would accept this definition. There is a reality of differing definitions even as people may not be able to articulate them. Indeed, over the past few centuries since the beginning of the Haskalah, we have seen extremes in both directions: some even declaring Jewishness to be solely a religion and rejecting any element of nationhood (early adherents to Reform Judaism); others declaring it to be solely a nation with religious practice simply being this nation’s cultural expression (secular Zionism and, to some extent, Reconstructionist Judaism).
Further diversity in theological principles also emerged. This is an essential issue in the controversy over conversion. If one converts pursuant to Reform Judaism, for example, that person would be declaring an acceptance of the theological principles of Reform Judaism, principles that are in disagreement with, let us say, Orthodox Judaism. As Orthodox Judaism would demand as a prelude to gerut the acceptance of its theological principles, by definition it cannot accept a conversion based upon acceptance of principles with which it disagrees. The challenge is further complicated by the attempt to avoid a recognition of such differences and their consequences. (In "Adjective and Non-Adjective Jews”, available at http://www.nishma.org/articles/introspection/introspection5761-2-adjective_jew.htm, I maintain that it is actually necessary for us to confront these differences and consequences if we are to have any chance for unity.) Essentially what this all represents are different understandings of the nature of the Jewish group, leaving us with a further challenge of seeing if there is any way of devising a feasible, pragmatic definition that could integrate all those (or most of them) who define themselves as Jewish into one working, understanding of this grouping.
To this part of the question, I really can’t give an answer. It is a challenge – a challenge that we must face and solve. This is the real issue in Israel regarding Jewish identity. There is value in accepting Orthodox standards for they are the most restrictive and, as such, almost anyone defined as Jewish within these standards would also be accepted as such by those maintaining other definitions. Maybe, though, there is a need for new terminology reflecting, for example, one who would be accepted as part of the Jewish group by certain definitions but not so accepted by others. Such an approach may be very relevant for Israel. Perhaps the reason you have not heard a good answer to the question of ‘what is a Jew’ is because the question is actually more of a maze than one may think.
Question: I know many friends—honest, God-fearing people—who have no problem “stealing” entertainment in the form of illegal downloads. Why have we let our attitude toward this kind of theft become so permissive? Can we stop it? Should we? Or, as many people claim, since they wouldn’t have paid for the show/music in the first place, it’s not like anyone lost money on their download. What is right? What is the Jewish view?
The issue of intellectual property, of which this is a case, is one that has challenged every legal system. How do you assign proprietary rights to an intangible? This is clearly also an issue within Jewish Law, however the nature of Halacha is such that it need not approach this issue solely from a perspective of property. The questioner asks whether downloading is a form of stealing or theft which, to answer, would first demand a determination of a property right in the intangible download. The issue within the realm of Halacha, though, is much broader; the question being whether it is right or wrong – and this answer may have little to do with the establishment of proprietary rights. It should not be surprising, as such, to find that over the centuries there have been many variant approaches undertaken to answer these types of questions, namely to what extent, if any, can someone benefit, without pay, from another person’s labours or financial outlay. This is essentially what is happening when one downloads a form of entertainment, one is benefitting from someone else’s efforts. The challenge, though, is that one is still not causing the other to actually expend more time, energy or money by downloading an item. In addition there may be other policy or ethical reasons for allowing this download. It is with a recognition of all these and other factors that Halachists have attempted to approach these questions.
There is a key shift, however, that occurs with the formulation of the issue with Halacha. In the language of Halacha, we would say that the prime focus of the issue becomes no longer one of cheftza, object, but gavra, person. What this means is that we are no longer focusing on the object – i.e. the download and its ownership – but the people involved and whether it is proper behaviour to download items without paying for them. The answer to this question may have little or nothing to do with actual ownership of the object but simply emerge from an ethical view of the behaviour itself. Is downloading objectionable behaviour?
This brings us to a key concept in the Halacha’s determination of the ethics of financial interaction. What is asked are the questions of whether one has benefitted (nehneh) and/or whether one has lost something including an opportunity cost (chaseir). The underlying broad values are that one should pay for a benefit and one should cover the cost of a loss that he/she has imposed upon another. Of course, the Halacha also recognizes that there are numerous details and further concerns that have to be considered and evaluated before these broad principles can be applied to any specific case. For example, one can only be held liable for a loss if one is responsible for causing it – what makes someone responsible? In many ways, Jewish financial law is an investigation of the many such details.
It would be first important, though, to understand the essential distinction between nehneh and chaseir in their legal ramifications. Mishna Baba Kamma 2:2 presents a good example. The case involves an animal eating the produce of a merchant in the public domain. As animals were common in the public domain in Talmudic times, it was deemed to be the responsibility of the merchant to protect his wares from animals. As such, an owner of an animal was not deemed responsible for what the animal ate in terms of the financial damage that was caused to the merchant i.e. he was not responsible for chaseir. Yet the Mishna informs us that he is responsible for the benefit he received through having his animal fed with the merchant’s produce i.e. he should still pay nehneh. The Gemara informs us that the owner does not have to pay the merchant for the price of the fruit but rather must pay him for the benefit he received in not having to feed his animal i.e. the amount he would have paid on the cheaper feed he would have used of the same quantity. It’s not always about what you cost the other but sometimes you have to consider your benefit. This would seem to be an important principle in regard to downloads for, while people contend that they are not directly causing a lost, they do cause opportunity costs and they do benefit. This approach to establishing copyright law was actually taken by Rabbi Yechezkel Landau, the Noda B’Yehuda.
Consideration for chaseir may even be broader. While the topic is actually complex as the Halacha also values competition, there is concern for activities that may impact on another’s business. For example, T.B. Baba Batra 21b states that once a fisherman has marked out an area for himself, perhaps putting out feed to attract fish, other fisherman cannot fish in this area. Again the issue is not propriety rights; this place and the fish are not owned by this fisherman. It is simply a recognition that you are causing loss – the fisherman has extended time, effort and, perhaps, even money to mark this area. It is, as such, improper to fish there and take a fish that this fisherman may have otherwise caught. Rabbi Moshe Sofer, the Chatam Sofer, applied this idea in his discussion of copyright.
The reality is that Jewish Law takes a serious approach to issues of intellectual property while in many ways not focusing on the property question but rather on the conduct that should be expected from the ethical individual. Consideration for Dina d’Malchuta Dina, that the law of the land has standing in Jewish Law, also is to be considered. Nonetheless, especially when the secular law has such exceptions, there are opinions that would consider the extent of the download and whether it is just for personal use before absolutely declaring it forbidden. Other ethical motivations for a download may also be considered.
The bottom line is that the issue is much more than a question of stealing with implications that you are taking something. The definitions of taking are much broader than an object of something. In addition there is the fact that you have benefitted. I would not say that this means that every action of downloading is forbidden but that the issue is one that needs to be approached seriously.
For further investigation of Halacha’s view of copyright, see:
Rabbi Israel Schneider, “Jewish Law and Copyright”, The Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society XX1 (http://www.daat.ac.il/daat/english/halacha/schneider_1.htm)
Rabbi Chaim Jachter, “Halachah and Copyright Laws”, Gray Matter: Discourses in Contemporary Halachah (http://www.torahlive.co.il/templatebild/tipsresources/Halacha%20and%20Copyright%20%28Jachter%29.pdf)
Rabbi J. David Bleich, “Chapter 6, Business and Commerce: Copyright”, Contemporary Halakhic Problems, Volume 2
Rabbi Ben Hecht
Question: What is the difference between "Glatt Kosher" and "Kosher?"
When I first saw this question, I felt providing an answer would be pretty straightforward but as I drafted a response I began to realize that a proper answer would also demand the presentation of some basic principles of Jewish Law that are often not recognized. As such, allow me to begin by directing the reader to a good, basic response to this question by Rabbi Ari Z. Zivotofsky which can be found at the following link, http://www.kashrut.com/articles/glatt/#starstar. Now allow me to elaborate. The word kosher in Hebrew means proper or fit and, in its more specific usage, declares that a piece of meat is permitted to be eaten according to Halacha, Jewish Law. In its more extended usage, it is also used to indicate that matters – be it a product, a program, an event – conforms to the requirements of Halacha. For example, I am a member of the Rabbinic Advisory Board of Koshertube (www.koshertube.com) where the term kosher indicates that the viewing of the videos on the site present no problem according to Halacha, namely that, according to the Jewish Law, they are fit to be viewed. It is very important to recognize that kosher is, as such, a legal term and, thus, is similar to such terms as guilty or innocent. It does not reflect an attribute that is inherent in an item – such as dimension or colour – but reflects a judicial determination based upon facts and law. This is what a verdict such as guilty means; it is an evaluation that, pursuant to the accepted facts and the law as determined by those entrusted to make this decision, a person is guilty of a crime. Kosher is a similar, judicial conclusion. When someone declares an item to be kosher, one is stating that, based on the facts as presented to this person and this person’s determination of the appropriate halachic principle in this matter, an item is legally fit, in the case of meat that it is permitted to be eaten according to Jewish Law. The technical case of glatt kosher may actually serve as a good example of the legal nature of such terms. There is a halachic principle that meat from an animal that would have died within one year is not kosher. An exact determination of whether an animal would have died within a year or not, especially after the animal has been slaughtered, could, obviously, be a most difficult one even for a veterinarian. This is where legal principles enter into the discussion. What exactly are the legal standards in this regard according to Jewish Law? As one example of such a standard, there is a principle in the Halacha that we may apply the concept of rov, following the majority, resulting in that, without evidence to the contrary, we can assume that what applies to the majority applies to all. In this case of meat, the principle that is applied is not necessarily that of rov but of a similar nature, namely that we need be only concerned with issues that have a significant minority occurrence. What is a significant minority occurrence? That is a matter of legal disagreement. Based upon the study of Jewish, legal sources there is a debate between scholars of the Halacha as to the exact definition of this. This is a classic example of a disagreement within Jewish Law with which many people have problems. As with any legal system – in the same manner that you have differing conclusions of judges – there are scholarly disagreements about halachic principles. This is why you have many possible contradictory presentations of what is kosher or not – there are disagreements in law. The technical, specific definition of glatt kosher concerns one of these disagreements. It is generally accepted that we need not be concerned with a possible malady in a slaughtered animal that would demand of us to label it ‘expected to die within a year’ and thus not kosher. We, thus, upon slaughter, generally do not examine an animal to see if there is some indication that it had such a malady. Such an occurrence is beyond a significant minority. There is one noted exception to this rule. There is enough of a significant minority occurrence of holes in the lungs of cows – which are life threatening – that it is a principle of Jewish Law that, before declaring the meat of a properly slaughtered cow to be kosher, an examination of the lungs has to occur. This is where we get to the exact nature of glatt kosher. If a cow’s lungs are found to have a hole, the meat is not kosher. If a cow’s lungs are found to never have been punctured, we can determine, judicially, that the meat is kosher based upon the assumption that we do not have to be concerned about remote occurrences of other maladies. What, however, if the cow’s lungs were once punctured and were healed – or were within the process of being healed. We would be able to determine if this was the case by examining the lungs to see if there were adhesions on the lungs. Any evidence of an adhesion would indicate that the lungs were once perforated. In such cases, a decision in law is necessary to determine if this presents a halachic problem or not. Since an adhesion could indicate that there was once a hole in the lungs and, at that time, the cow could be defined as one expected to die within a year, the question is now whether, after the healing, that determination still stands. When a cow, as such, is slaughtered, a cow’s lung is thus checked in these two manners. First, there is a physical determination whether there are any holes which, based on this fact, if found would result in a determination that the meat of this cow is not kosher. Then, there is an examination of the lungs to see if there are any adhesions. If there are, a further, judicial determination has to be made whether these adhesions present a problem. There is a disagreement amongst the scholars of the Halacha in this regard: do adhesions present a problem to a determination of kosher and, if so, which ones? The result would be that certain meat could be declared kosher by some halachic authorities while others would render it not kosher. The term glatt kosher is actually a Yiddish term that technically refers to smooth lungs, lungs without any adhesions, and thus would be declared kosher by all authorities. When meat is said to be only kosher, and not glatt kosher, the presumed message is that there was an issue regarding the lungs but a determination was made to follow the authorities that would permit this type of adhesion although there would be some authorities who would not permit it. Someone choosing to only eat glatt kosher technically means someone who wishes not to enter this controversy and eat only meat that would be kosher to all the opinions (or, at least, an even greater number of them). This leads us to the more colloquial use of the term. In reality, disagreements in the principles of Jewish Law exist in all areas of Halacha, in fact even extensively. As such, those who observe a halachic lifestyle are always making determinations of which positions in Jewish Law they observe. (This should not be perceived to arbitrary or, even, fully autonomous. There are further principles that are to be applied in this regard as well.) When someone applies the term glatt kosher beyond the case of cow’s meat (and, even, when the term is used, in some other ways, in regard to cow’s meat), what one is really saying is that they are attempting to be more stringent in their observance of the law through conduct that is acceptable to all opinions or the vast majority of them. Question: Why does Hillel choose “What is hateful to you, do not do unto your neighbor” as his version of “the entire Torah?” Why not “Love God” or “Keep mitzvoth.” HiIlel’s tenet is never actually mentioned in the Torah itself.
While the essence of this question is a good one, there are a few assumptions that are made within the question that need to be identified and corrected first in order to fully respond to it. Indeed T.B. Shabbat 31a records this statement as the response of Hillel to the potential proselyte who wished to be taught the whole Torah while he stood on one foot. What, though, did Hillel really mean with this answer? Did he actually believe that this idea represented “the entire Torah”? What actually was the essence of the non-Jew’s request? Finally, does it really matter that this tenet is “never actually mentioned in the Torah itself”?
Rabbi Shmuel Eidels (generally known by his acronym Maharsha), a major Talmudist of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth century, points out that the essence of the non-Jew’s request was a desire to find the one fundamental principle upon which the whole Torah system was based. Hillel’s answer, thus, was not an expression of the entire Torah but rather his understanding of this one singular, fundamental principle upon which the whole Torah is built. The challenge still exists, though: how could this be a statement of the Torah’s fundamental principle given that it seems to ignore the commandments related to the religious side of Torah such as loving God. Seemingly bothered by this very concern, Rashi actually presents one understanding of the statement as not referring to one’s human neighbour but rather one’s Divine neighbour. Essentially, according to this view, Hillel is basically saying that the fundamental principle of Torah is, actually as you suggest, “Keep mitzvot.” As you would not like something hateful done to you -- as you would not like to be ignored -- do not do to your Divine neighbour -- namely do not ignore God through not observing His mitzvot. Hillel is, according to this view, informing the non-Jew that the fundamental principle of Torah is to follow the Will of God through the observance of all mitzvot, both those between Man and God as well as those between Man and Man. With this explanation, the statement could indeed be understood as reflecting a principle fundamental to the entire Torah.
A problem with this explanation, however, may exist in that it could be argued that it is a bit of a stretch to understand the word neighbour as the Divine neighbour. A simple reading of the statement would seem to better imply that Hillel was talking about human neighbours. There is a general principle that when Rashi presents two explanations it is usually because he finds there to be a weakness in each one independently. In this case, Rashi actually does present a second explanation, implying that he too had some difficulty with his first answer perhaps because of this stretch. Maintaining the simple meaning of the words, namely that neighbour means human neighbour, in his second explanation, though again raises the problem of how could this principle regarding human relations serve also as the fundamental principle for the specifically, religious mitzvot. One possibility is that Hillel, recognizing that he could not give one fundamental principle for all the mitzvot of the Torah, was really only trying to present the fundamental principle for the societal mitzvot. The weakness with this answer is, obviously, in that it did not truly meet the non-Jew’s request. This would explain why Rashi also presented his first explanation although he felt that with that answer there was the weakness of the stretched language.
Is there, though, a possible way of understanding the gemara as referring to human neighbours while still also maintaining that this principle can serve as the singular, fundamental principle of the entire Torah. Maharsha queries why Hillel presented his statement in the negative – don’t do to your neighbour what you would not like done to yourself – and doesn’t just quote the positive verse of “love your neighbour as yourself” found in Vayikra 19:18. He explains that a true investigation of this verse would reveal that it actually is also only presenting what we may term the negative demand; what Hillel was actually doing was presenting the real essence of the idea. The call upon the human being cannot be in the positive to treat another just like oneself for one has an obligation to take care of oneself first. (See Vayikra 25:36 as explained in T.B. Baba Metzia 62a.) It is also contrary to human nature to demand an individual to treat everyone as one treats oneself. If I buy myself a car, am I expected to buy everyone else a car? If I give a present to my child, am I expected to give similar presents to all children? Reality demands that we accept a responsibility for self and act within the parameters of this concern. While the Torah clearly perceives there to be a value in chessed and demands of us to exhibit this quality and assist others to the proper extent possible, its first and foremost demand is that we respect the other’s responsibility for self and not impede upon it just as we would wish others to respect our responsibility for ourselves and not impede upon it. This latter demand is actually Hillel’s fundamental statement – not to do to the other what you do not want done to yourself.
Within this context, Hillel’s statement could actually be understood in a much broader way as to encapsulate the proper attitude that one should have within life. There is clearly a value in chessed, in helping others. But there is a more primary value in sensitivity, in being aware of the world around you and ensuring that you, at least, do not harm others. Viewed this way, we can understand how this perspective could affect all aspects of life, not just what we may term the societal areas of the law but even within the areas of our religious endeavours. Be sensitive to ensure that you do not cause harm, is the fundamental principle upon which all else is built.
This now leads to the final phrase of Hillel’s statement (which was actually not included in the original question posed on this site). Hillel concludes by telling the potential proselyte, after articulating that one should not do to others what one would find harmful to oneself, that all else is commentary, now go study. It is one thing to have a simple statement of a fundamental principle; it is another thing to think that one can apply such a statement simplistically in the reality of this complex world. Hillel is adding in his very formulation of his fundamental principle that to fully understand this principle one must accept the challenge of study, with the recognition of the further challenge that one continuously faces in balancing one’s rights and obligations with another’s rights and obligations. This takes a lifetime of study and application.
This would also explain why Hillel’s statement is not “actually mentioned in the Torah itself”. The Written Torah is not the end statement of Jewish Thought or Ethics. It is the beginning statement from which we are, through the study of the Oral Law (also a product of the Divine origin of Sinai) to advance these teachings. Hillel’s statement was such a step. His end charge was then to take his step and further build upon it within the edifice of Torah.
Question: My wife wants to watch porn from time to time to help with arousal, where would that fall with regard to the law?
My first response when I saw this question was a reluctance to answer it. This is because these types of questions are regarded, by Jewish thought, to be of a private nature and, as such, public discussions of such issues are deemed to be inappropriate. Yet, perhaps, this very concept of private and public, itself, needed to be imparted – and, in many ways, this idea is, also, the very basis of an answer. The dominant opinion within Torah thought considers a proper manifestation of human sexuality to be an important ideal. The Iggeret HaKodesh, a medieval work that tradition ascribes to the Ramban (Nachmanides), presents this idea clearly. He begins with an open challenge of the view of Rambam (Maimonides) who maintained a more negative perception of the physical and sexuality in particular. (Maimonides represents a minority view that was rejected by the vast majority of Torah thinkers). The Iggeret HaKodesh states that as human sexuality was a creation of God and was part of His intention for human beings, it must be inherently good. In support of this idea, we may refer to Rashi, Genesis 4:1 who clearly states that, while the verse informing us of the births of Cain and Abel does follow the story of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil in the text, they were actually conceived and born prior to this event. A mating relationship with a positive expression of sexuality was God’s intent for humanity.
Genesis 2:18-24 further expresses this idea. In reading these verses what immediately comes to mind is that human sexual experience is not simply a method of reproduction. If the only purpose of sex for human beings was reproduction, God could have created male and female directly as He did with all the animals. God’s unique method of creating Eve was to declare the relationship essence of human mating. Sex is not just a physical act. See Rashi, Genesis 2:23. with Gur Aryeh. It is not even a general form of relating; it is a specific method of personal relating between a man and a woman who are joining together to form a unity greater than themselves individually.
This idea is at the root of the Torah understanding of human sexuality. Permitted sexuality is not just simply a tolerated way for a male and female to satisfy a generic, physical drive. Human sexuality is deemed to be a private concern because the human sexual drive, at its roots, is a specific drive for a specific individual of the opposite sex. Any discussion of sexual behaviour is, thus, not seen as generic. It is not like teaching someone to dance whereby you can just switch partners. Any discussion must, by definition, be private for it is a discussion only about these two individuals and how they specifically relate.
Of course, as with any behaviour that is individualistic, there may be some general directions and parameters to assist the couple to reach their goal of including sexuality as an important, even necessary, part of their relationship. One of these guidelines from a Torah perspective is the mitzvah of onah, marital conjugality. See Shulchan Aruch, Even HaEzer, chap. 76. A husband is commanded, within parameters, to satisfy the sexual needs of his wife and, while this is generally framed in a quantitative manner, it also has a qualitative factor. Pleasure is part of the reality of sexual contact and a concern for his wife’s pleasure is part of his obligation, notwithstanding that this concern should also flow from the love that should be inherent in this union. In support of this positive view of sexual pleasure between husband and wife, see Micah 2:9 and T.B. Eruvin 63b amongst many other sources.
With this preamble, we can now understand the nature of this question before us. A wife’s pleasure in sexuality is clearly important and thus taking appropriate steps to help with her arousal is an important undertaking. The question is whether watching porn is an appropriate step. Pornography is clearly a presentation of the human sexual act as generic and solely physical without any recognition of its significance in the uniqueness of a relationship between individuals. This principle is found in many laws directed to ensure that the arousal between husband and wife is specific to their relationship and emerges and flows from their individualistic relationship. Without entering into a technical discussion of these laws and legal principles, allow me to just cite the following:
a) Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 387 – the prohibition to stray with one’s eyes;
b) T.B. Baba Batra 57b – the prohibition of watching women washing clothes by the river as their movement and dress could arouse;
c) Shulchan Aruch, Even HaEzer 23:3 – the prohibition of watching animals and birds mating.
The result is a conflict of values: while we wish for a wife to have a satisfying, physical relationship with her husband, we also have difficulties with even the observing of a generic act of sex. Encountering and responding to a conflict between values, however, are the norm within a life of Torah. For example, the vast majority of Biblical laws may be violated in a life-threatening situation; what the Torah is really stating is that when there is a conflict between the value of life and most other Torah values, the value of life takes precedence. Such rules abound. In most cases, somewhat serious illness will override most Rabbinic prohibitions; medical treatment such as surgery is not deemed to be a violation of the law against striking another. (See Sefer HaChinuch, Mitzvah 595). Certain individual circumstances may call upon us to follow a more lenient opinion even though the normative practice is stricter. The essential role of the rabbi is, in fact, to adjudicate in all such situations and to determine, given the numerous principles that are to serve as a guide, how one is to behave when there is a conflict of values.
In response to the question, we, thus, would have to conclude that this couple should actually speak to their rabbi about this. This is doubly so because of the private and individualistic nature of a relationship; the answer that may apply to one couple may not apply to another. We do not know the specific circumstances and the underlying reasons for why the wife needs this stimulus. We are not talking about the generic application of sexuality but the specific nature of this relationship. Clearly, our goal would be to assist in the creation of a situation whereby the wife would not need this stimulus. We wish the relationship to be private, individualistic and specific. In the short run, though, this couple should speak to their halahic authority who will direct them how to proceed.
Question: If New York state is not forcing Jewish institutions to perform same-sex marriages, why are Jewish groups still against the gay marriage bill?
At the base of this question would seem to be an assumption that if Jewish individuals, groups or institutions are not imposed upon by a law, it is not their place, or there is no reason for them, to oppose this law. In terms of this specific case, it would seem that the one asking this question is assuming that since the New York state gay marriage bill will not cause any Jew to act contrary to his/her religious principles, there is no reason for Jews to oppose this law. Thus the question why a Jew would fight against this law. Is this assumption, however, correct? That is the real issue within this question. Before commenting on this, we should, perhaps, first clearly outline Orthodox Judaism’s view of same-sex marriages. As is generally recognized, homosexual behaviour* is understood by Orthodoxy to be clearly prohibited by Torah law, both for Jews and for Non-Jews under the Seven Laws of Noah (the Noahide Code) which is deemed to be binding on all humanity. (In regard to this Code in general, see Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Melachim chapters 9 and 10; in regard to the specific prohibition regarding homosexual behaviour, see Halacha 9:5.) What many do not know, though, is that the institution of same-sex marriage is actually looked upon, within the literature, as an even lower form of immorality. See, for example, Rashi, Chullin 92b. See, also, Sifra, Acharei Mot 132 which includes same-sex marriages as practices of the Egyptian and Canaanite societies, deemed to be, by Sifra, Acharei Mot 131 and other sources, the most immoral of all societies. It is thus clear within the Torah literature that the practice of same-sex marriage is highly problematic. Notwithstanding this moral position, is it still proper for Jews to attempt to impose this value – a value emerging from their religious perspective – on the general American society? There are two parts to this question. One is from the perspective of Judaism: should Jews care, halachically, about the moral practices of Non-Jews if such practices have no bearing on Jewish individuals or Jewish society? Presenting an argument that Jews do not proselytise, many people may answer with a simple ‘no’. The answer really is not so simple. While Jews may be restrained in promoting Non-Jews to convert to become Jews, Jewish thought may have a different understanding of the attitude Jews should have in regard to promoting the observance of the Noahide Code amongst Gentiles. Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Melachim 8:10 seems to clearly outline an obligation upon Jews to promote observance of the Noahide Code amongst Non-Jews. Rabbi Michael Broyde, The Orthodox Forum: Tikkun Olam, The Obligation of Jews to Seek Observances of Noahide Laws by Gentiles: A Theoretical Review, however, maintains that Maimonides’ view actually represents a minority position and that the majority of scholars do not perceive an obligation. This, however, does not mean that there is still no religious value in promoting observance of the Noahide Laws amongst Gentiles. One of the important defining characteristics of our forefather Avraham was that he did spread the knowledge of God and the observance of His ways throughout his world. See, for example, Rashi, Bereishit 12:5. It would thus seem proper for Jews to, at least, be concerned about the moral values of the general world and, to some extent, promote values of a universal nature found within the Torah. There is, however, a second part to this question and that concerns the promotion of Torah values within America which prides itself on the value of freedom of religion, a value that has also served the Jewish community well. There are again two parts to this sub-question, one - the theoretical, the other - the practical. These are both most complex issues and even a preliminary investigation of these matters would be too extensive for this forum. Yet, if we consider the original question, the demand was not to decide whether Jews should be actively against the same-sex legislation or not, but rather to explain why would various Jewish institutions continue to be against it when Jews will not be forced to violate their principles thereby. This question can be answered more concisely. The above sources clearly show that there is a strong view within Jewish thought that Jews are to be concerned about the moral behaviour of Gentiles as defined by the Noahide Code. As such, it should not be surprising to find Jews who would challenge a law clearly contrary to this Code. The problem, though, is the practical side of this issue. Is it not dangerous to the furtherance of Jewish life in this society to attempt to impose our values on the society for could this not lead to another group attempting to impose their values on society at our expense? If we attempt to stop gays from marrying because of our values, even though it would seem that such behaviour does not actually directly affect us in any way, what argument could we have against individuals attempting, because of their values, to prevent the circumcision of children, terming it ‘male genital mutilation’, even though it does not personally affect them? The very idea of freedom of religion is the allowance to let others follow their value constructs (within certain parameters) – and such a standard has served the Jewish community well. It is actually well known that Rabbi Moshe Feinstein maintained that protecting the Jewish community’s ability to practice Torah in an unhindered manner is more important than siding with a position that may be more in line with our universal ethical standards yet may also possibly hinder this ability. It is for this reason that Rabbi Feinstein instructed Jewish institutions to side with the Pro-Choice camp in the abortion debate because this position will enable Jews to make any such decision with a consideration solely of the halachic criteria while the Pro-Life position may impose other value determinants, contrary to the Halacha. (I am sorry, while this decision is well known and I have heard it stated numerous times, I do not have a non-oral source for it.) So is there not a practical concern with challenging this law given its present parameters? Those who continue to oppose this law, however, believe that this is precisely the point. Who is to say that the present limitations on the extent of this law will continue into the future? There is a concern that as a moral standard in opposition to Torah strengthens, there is a possibility that these new standards could lead to an eventual direct imposition on Torah standards. When one hears gay activists comparing religious opponents to same-sex marriage to Southern Baptists in the first half of the eighteenth century who opposed the abolition of slavery, this concern would seem to be very real. There is also another concern that the advancement of these values could change the societal milieu, creating subtle and indirect yet problematic circumstances for observant Jews. As such, it is difficult to fully maintain that the advancement of the values in support of same-sex marriage could not eventually be harmful to the lifestyle of Torah committed individuals and their families. Opponents of same-sex marriage also contend that they are careful to frame their arguments within the context of general moral structures and not Torah per se. In this regard, they maintain that, while they are promoting their religious values, they are, as citizens, simply entering into a general discussion that concerns society as a whole. The issue of when such arguments cross the line of challenging freedom of religion and when they are simply part of the general discussion of a society’s mores is hard to define. Nonetheless, it can be expected that one voicing an opinion in the context of society’s standards will be affected by his/her background and tradition, and the call to discount this reality is simply unrealistic. My objective in this answer is not to express my view on the issue but simply to offer a possible Torah reason for continuing to oppose same-sex marriage. They maintain that, if done in a proper fashion, their opposition is an expression of their Jewish values and in the protection of their rights while simultaneously not challenging their parallel commitment to America’s standard of freedom of religion.
* It should be noted that, technically, one could contend that this statement actually only applies to male homosexual behaviour and that my ensuing arguments are not, as such, applicable to lesbianism. To be honest, there is some basis to this argument yet there is also no doubt that lesbianism is clearly looked upon negatively by the Torah as well. See, for example, Shulchan Aruch, Even HaEzer 20:2. The technical discussion of the distinction in Halacha between male and female homosexuality is, however, an extensive topic in itself and beyond the specific parameters of this issue. As such, we will not elaborate upon it. It is sufficient for our purposes to outline, from these sources, the general attitude to homosexuality and same-sex marriage within Orthodoxy, so that we may respond to a question that touches upon how we are to maintain our ethical viewpoint on this subject in a world in which the general attitude is changing.
Question: What is the reason behind the "no swimming during the 9 days" rule? Is it because it's fun? Because it's dangerous? Or because it's bathing? (If it's the last reason, does that really apply nowadays, when people pretty much bathe as usual during the 9 days?)
Before answering the specifics of this question, it is first important to understand the intent of the theme of these “9 Days”. Of course, the core day of this period is Tisha B’Av, the ninth day of the Hebrew month of Av, a day which has been termed, in the language of our modern world, the national day of Jewish mourning. It is a day that we mourn national tragedies. It is thus, indeed, mourning which is at the essence of this day and the periods of time before it, the “Three Weeks” and the “9 Days.” To thus understand the 9 Days – and in specific terms, to answer your question – it is necessary to understand the Jewish expression of mourning. (At the conclusion of my answer, for those who may not be familiar with Tisha B’Av, the 9 Days or the Three Weeks, I will briefly touch upon them.) Aveilut is the Hebrew term for the practice of mourning that follows the death of a loved one. There are many different considerations that are at the root of this practice but one of the most important of these is the allowance for a proper expression of the grief and sadness that is being felt. In this regard, the mourner is directed to limit actions of simcha, loosely translated as joy, and of pleasure leading to simcha. Included in these prohibitions is bathing – but it is important to recognize that it is bathing connected to pleasure that is limited, not bathing with a different purpose. See Shulchan Aruch, Yoreh De’ah 381:61. This is the same rule that applies during the 9 Days when the mourning restrictions include this prohibition of bathing. See Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 551:16 with Mishneh Brura 551:89 and Sha’ar Ha’Tzion 551:94. Again, though, it is specifically bathing for pleasure that is prohibited.
An extension of this prohibition to include swimming is found in Aruch HaShulchan, Orach Chaim 551:35. The extension is actually very much straightforward for a similarity between bathing for pleasure and swimming seems rather obvious. The definition of bathing for pleasure still needs to be further defined. The Halacha distinguishes between pleasure and an action to remove discomfort. In this regard, for example, to bathe in order to remove a feeling of discomfort would be acceptable. As such, for example, Rabbi Aaron Felder, Moadei Yeshurun I, Laws of the Three Weeks and the Ninth of Av 2:17 states in the name of Rabbi Moshe Feinstein that taking a cold shower during a heat wave would be permitted. It is pleasure that is prohibited, not the removal of discomfort. It is within the parameters of such reasoning that some people today, when bathing is more common then it was in the past and people feel discomfort if they do not bathe, bathe almost as usual during the 9 days. Such reasoning would, obviously, not apply to swimming as the purpose of swimming – for sure, over the length of the time of this activity -- is still pleasure rather than removal of discomfort. It should be noted, though, that in the same spirit as other laws of this time period, swimming for a different purpose would be permitted and this is why many Orthodox camps still maintain an instructional swim time during the 9 days even as free swim times are cancelled. One medically instructed to swim for exercise, of course, may also continue to swim.
So, in response to your question, it would simply seem that swimming is prohibited as an extension of the prohibition on bathing. The other two possible reasons mentioned, though, should not simply be discounted. Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 551:1 states that with the beginning of the month of Av we lessen simcha and we also take into consideration the fact that this time period is one of “bad luck” for the Jewish People. Even as bathing for pleasure is a concern at this time, all activities of simcha are also to be undertaken under scrutiny. This does not mean that all activities that are pleasurable or fun are prohibited but lessening such activities during this time period is appropriate. Thus, even as swimming falls into the prohibition of bathing for pleasure and, as such, is directly prohibited, the fun nature of swimming in itself would be a consideration even if it wasn’t a derivative of bathing. In terms of the “bad luck” that is also a consideration during this time period, it is common for people to be more careful in their activities at this time and refrain from doing things that have a component of danger. In this regard, Rabbi Aaron Felder, Moadei Yeshurun I, Laws of the Three Weeks and the Ninth of Av 1:5 states that Rabbi Moshe Feinstein would also tell people to avoid swimming in very deep water during the Three Weeks in consideration of the “bad luck” which surfaces for our people during these times. By extension, while swimming is prohibited for other reasons during the 9 days, there would also be a concern for danger.
* * * * *
Tisha B’Av, our tradition tells us, is a day on which many great tragedies befell the Jewish People. (See, further, Mishna Ta’anit 4:6.)The most horrific of these were the destructions of both Temples, both occurring on this day. Our tradition also informs us that it was on this day that the edict against the spies and the generation of the desert – that they would have to wander in the desert for 40 years and not enter the Land of Israel— was pronounced by God. In relatively modern times, amongst the other terrible events that occurred on this day was the expulsion of the Jews from Spain in 1492.
Three weeks before Tisha B’Av, on the 17th day of the Hebrew month of Tammuz, a fast day that commemorates the breeching of the walls of the Jerusalem prior to the destruction of the Second Temple (amongst other tragedies – see the above noted mishna), was established. This day also initiates a Three Week period of mourning that, culminates in Tisha B’Av. This period of mourning, unlike our normal practice of mourning which wanes with the passage of time, then intensifies as we approach Tisha B’Av. This intensification is marked by further restrictions during the 9 Days before Tisha B’Av beginning with Rosh Chodesh Av, the start of the new month.Thus there are practices which are forbidden within this whole three week period – such as haircuts and celebrations -- and some which are only forbidden for 9 days – such as the above noted bathing for pleasure.
Question: Tell me where I can find information or examples about Jewish values in the movies.
It is first important for us to clearly define this request. Many years ago, I was asked to lead a Hebrew High School class on Jewish movies. The movies that were to be covered included ones such as “Fiddler on the Roof” or “The Fixer.” Indeed, these are what are ones commonly referred to as Jewish movies – i.e. movies with Jewish themes or openly Jewish personalities or stories – and these were the types of movies that were to be discussed in this class. If the present request is simply how one can find out about these types of Jewish movies, the answer really is very simple. All one needs to do is simply google ‘Jewish movies’ and one will find many websites that focus on such Jewish movies.
This request, though, was for “information about Jewish values in the movies.” It would seem to be about more than Jewish movies but, rather, about Jewish values. Around the same time that I was leading this class on Jewish movies in this Hebrew High School, I was also approached by the New York Jewish Board of Education to become involved in a new project which they were considering. Their objective was not to look at Jewish movies per se but rather to develop a curriculum on Jewish subjects that would use popular movies or television shows to initiate discussion and subsequent education. In this regard, they asked me to review the movie “Whose Life Is It Anyway?” – the theme of which was euthanasia -- and develop a piece on how this movie could be used in teaching Jewish values on this subject. In this vein, when I find someone referring to information about Jewish values in the movies my thoughts immediately are upon such studies and so it is in this case. As such, this request, from my perspective, is not on how one can find information about Jewish movies but rather on how one can find Jewish value critiques and studies on modern movies..
I have already mentioned that the New York Board of Jewish Education many years ago was considering the development of curriculum material of this nature. I unfortunately do not know what happened to this project but one may wish to contact this Board to see if they have further material on Jewish values in movies. Personally, though, I have continued my interest in this study for a variety of reasons and have extended this interest into my present work with Nishma. In this vein, on the Nishma website (www.nishma.org) one will find a column (under the general authorship of my daughter Dodi-Lee Hecht) entitled “Hollywood and Sinai” which, as presented in the Introductory essay in this column, will “examine various films in light of Jewish thought and a Halachic/Hashkafic framework.” In this column, one will find at least some information on Jewish values in the movies.
Of course, in any presentation on a subject of this nature, it must be stated that there is much debate and discussion within the Orthodox world regarding movies -- even regarding even the question of whether one should watch them or not. There are many sources throughout the Torah literature, including such directives in the Torah itself such as Numbers 15:39 (not to follow after your heart and eyes – a verse in the Shema) and Exodus 23:7 (to distance oneself from falseness), that inform us that we should be careful as to the stimuli that we allow ourselves to encounter. Clearly, this must be a consideration when viewing movies and determining what one should allow oneself to watch. Yet, movies provide us with glimpses into the world and, for many of us, worlds with which we are not familiar. One could clearly also argue that there is value in confronting such circumstances and consider how to properly respond and react to them. Movies can articulate values, some of which are consistent with Jewish thought and some of which are directly in opposition to it. Such consideration is worthy of study and thus a request for information on Jewish values in the movies is an important one. There may be other resources besides the ones I mentioned but this is, at least, a starting point.
Rabbi Ben Hecht
Question: What is the Jewish thought behind revenge, and how does that apply to the recent decision to boycott a certain whiskey distiller is Scotland because they boycotted Israeli products? "You boycott us, we boycott you" is not necessarily a Jewish response.
Within this question there are actually two inquiries. One concerns the theoretical pinning of the Biblical prohibition of revenge (see Vayikra 19:18); the other concerns the practical application of this concept in this case. Briefly, I will attempt to deal with both. Two different yet clearly connected prohibitions are actually derived from this verse. One -- recorded in Rambam (Maimonides), Sefer HaMitzvot, Negative Commandment 304 and Sefer HaChinuch, mitzvah 241 -- is the more direct one relating to revenge, namely the prohibition of hurting someone simply because he/she hurt you. T.B. Yoma 23a presents, as an example, Person A refusing to lend something to Person B because the latter previously refused to lend something to the former. The second commandment included in this verse – recorded in Rambam (Maimonides), Sefer HaMitzvot, Negative Commandment 305 and Sefer HaChinuch, mitzvah 242 – is of a more indirect nature and is usually referred to in English translation as bearing a grudge. The gemara gives as an example the case when Person A does still lend something to Person B but makes a point of mentioning that this is unlike Person B who did not lend Person A an item when asked. Sefer HaChinuch points out that the connection of both these prohibited behaviours is the desire to hurt the other in the same manner that this person was hurt. Person A was hurt by Person B because the latter did not lend the former an item. Person A’s motivation for either now not lending Person B an item or lending the item but only after making a point of his/her better behaviour is simply to treat the other badly and/or hurt the other out of grievance. This is what is the essential wrong in both these cases and is at the root of both prohibitions.. In the case of these mitzvot, the nature of this motivation is, thus, of great importance. The previous verse, Vayikra 19:17, informs us that we have a responsibility for our fellow Jew and, as such, we have an obligation to rebuke them, to foster better behaviour in our fellow Jews. If there is a positive purpose in undertaking an action against another, the action does not fall under these prohibitions. So if you say something to another when lending this person an object after he/she did not previously lend you an object, but your objective was not to cause pain but to instruct the other in correct behaviour, with a goal that this instruction will be adopted, you have not violated these commands. It’s the same as hitting another. If you do so because he/she hit you, that’s revenge. If you do so to protect yourself and to stop the other from hitting you, it is not. As such, it is specifically when an action of a revengeful nature is undertaken to solely cause pain to the other that we encounter a violation of these commandments. An action of this nature undertaken for a positive purpose – whereby the motivation is this positive purpose – does not fall into these categories of sinful revenge. That is why this very same gemara in Yoma states that a Torah scholar who is not vengeful is not a true Torah scholar. Rambam, Mishneh Torah, Hilchot De’ot 7:13 explains. When a Torah scholar is belittled, especially in public, it is not his/her personal status that is diminished and/or attacked; it is the very honour of Torah itself that is challenged. In this regard, the Torah scholar must take action for the honour of Torah. The motivation is not personal hatred and/or desire to hurt. The motivation is furtherance of Torah. When action that seems to be vengeful is undertaken for a positive purpose, it is not included in these prohibitions. One must, of course, ensure, though, that the true motivation is this positive purpose and that one is not just finding a rationalization for spiteful revenge. .So, on the surface, it would seem that this boycott of ones boycotting Israel would be acceptable as the purpose is not just to cause pain to the ones who instituted the original boycott but also to try and effect a positive change in, at least, attempting to thwart the original boycott. There is, though, a further problem. Is this response truly in keeping with principles of justice and the parameters of how we are to act in response to an act of aggression (which this boycott is)? The answer in this case may clearly be no. The ones who instituted the original boycott against Israel are not the ones affected by this boycott for Israel. There is even a question whether the ones affected by this boycott on scotch whiskey can even influence the ones who started the whole matter by boycotting the purchase of books published in Israel. It seems that the real motivation may be to hurt someone because someone hurt Israel. This would even be a case worse than the simple parameters of revenge. In those cases, we critique a motivation to hurt another because he/she hurt you. What would clearly be even worse would be a desire to hurt someone, almost anyone, because you were hurt. That may be the case here. Is this a case where we are so upset with boycotts of Israel that we just want to do something to express our anger and hatred of these boycotts? If so, it would be clearly wrong and any arguments for such an action would have to be seen as only invented to find some means of justifying the action. This is the core of the issue. Is there a real, positive purpose to this action or is it simply a way of expressing anger and hatred? If the former, it could be justified. If the latter, it would not be. (It should perhaps also be noted that a further argument could also be made to justify this reactionary boycott in that it would seem that the original Biblical prohibition is solely on taking revenge on fellow Jews. I do not wish, though, to pursue this argument as it, in turn, raises the whole issue of why there should even be a distinction between Jews and non-Jews in this regard or, in fact, in regard to any ethical standard. This further issue, though, is a most complicated one – generally often misunderstood – and beyond the parameters of this question. It should be stated, though, that while this distinction does exist, an argument for vengeance based on such an argument, would still be seen as fundamentally weak for, while technically a distinction between Jew and non-Jew has some basis, the character trait of being a vengeful person is still clearly perceived to be a most negative one. As such, the literature clearly maintains that it should not be part of our base personality in dealing with anyone. The complex question that then arises, as such, is: why would the Torah then clearly demarcate such a law, in any way, as only applying to fellow Jews when, in fact, such behaviour is expected to be rejected universally? This is the question that unfortunately we are not able to pursue at this time.) Question: In President Obama’s recent speech on the Middle East, he endorsed Palestinian demands for a two-state solution based on pre-1967 lines. This brings fears that Israel will be vulnerable to repeated attacks, like those that occurred between 1948 and 1967. As a Jew, how can I vote for a President that is pressuring Israel to withdraw to indefensible borders even though I support the President’s domestic policies?
Before responding to the substantive nature of this question – which is the role of a Jew as a citizen in a Diaspora land – it is first important to verify the facts. This is indeed also an important halachic obligation. Before one can render a decision based on the law of the Torah, one must first ensure that his/her understanding of the facts is as clear as possible. Within Jewish Law, the drisha v’chakira, the examination of witnesses, is very thorough. One cannot render a correct psak, legal decision, without an understanding of the facts to the best of one’s ability. Having said all this, it is now important, before answering this question, whether what is reported to be Pres. Obama’s position is actually his position. It seems clear, both from what he explained afterwards and from subsequent analysis of his initial speech, that he does not believe that Israel should return to these indefensible borders. As such, the exact formulation of this question is problematic. It may be, though, that President Obama’s position regarding Israel still is one that a person may find to be problematic and the intent of this question still stands. We can thus ask: what is one to do when the politician one is thinking of supporting has views regarding foreign policy, in particular, regarding Israel, with which one disagrees but has domestic policies with which one agrees? We could also possibly ask: how is one to vote if President Obama does have this view regarding Israel’s borders yet one appreciates his domestic policies? How is one to integrate his very specific Jewish views into his role as an American citizen?
In Canada, the question is actually framed in the opposite way and indeed in our recent election people did raise this issue with me. We are most fortunate in Canada to have as our Prime Minister a man who has taken a principled stand in favour of Israel. While this may have resulted in some political gain in that Prime Minister Harper’s party did win some predominantly Jewish ridings that were previously held by the opposition Liberal Party, it is generally felt that, especially given the larger Muslim population in Canada, his views regarding Israel are not politically expedient. It is also generally recognized that Canada was furthermore recently denied a seat on the UN Security Council because of the Prime Minister’s views on Israel; this was used by political opponents to contend that the Prime Minister was hurting Canada’s good name internationally. The question I was thus asked was: whether one could vote against Prime Minister Harper given his stand regarding Israel because one strongly disagreed with his domestic policies? A different situation but essentially the same question – how do you balance views regarding Israel, or essentially any specifically Jewish issue, with views regarding a general policy matter that would affect the voting constituency as a whole? How are you to be a Jew in a Diaspora nation?
In certain ways, the essence of this question is clearly an old one and there is a substantial amount of material on this general subject within the sources. We are told numerous times in the Talmud (for example, T.B. Baba Kamma 113a) “Dina d’malchuta dina”, the law of the land is the law, meaning that the law of the country in which one is living is binding also within Jewish Law. There are, though, many limitations within this principle; a primary one being if they conflict with Torah law. As an extreme example, a national law forbidding circumcision would, of course, not have any status within Jewish Law notwithstanding this principle. The concept of dina d’malchuta is actually generally understood to apply specifically to monetary laws with even some debate as to the extent of this application. There are those, though, who also do apply the principle to other laws, within a country, which serve the proper functioning of society. As with many if not the vast majority of areas within Jewish Law, this subject is a most complex one. One who wishes to read more about it may wish to begin his/her study with an excellent article on the subject by Rabbi Herschel Schachter entitled “Dina De’malchusa Dina”: Secular Law As a Religious Obligation found in the Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society, Vol. 1, No. 1. Another possible starting point for study is the Encyclopaedia Talmudit entry on the subject.
The bottom line, though, is that it is expected of the Jew to be a good citizen within the Diaspora land in which he/she may find himself/herself. Tractate Avot 3:2, building on Yirmiyahu 29:7, instructs us to pray for the welfare of the government of the land in which we reside. We are clearly to do what we can to further the positive functioning of the society in which we live. There are also those who contend that the concept of dina d’malchuta dina reflects a recognition of a social contract that we have with the people with whom we live. We are, clearly, to maintain our end of the agreement. The question posed here, though, is different than the general question posed throughout the centuries. In the past, the charge to a Jew was to be a good citizen. That is not the issue here. The question here is how are we to let Jewishness affect the way we vote?
Democracy offers a new perspective to this issue. Before we can explain the Jewish view on the subject, we have to formulate what is expected of us from the mores of the society in which the question is asked. If the society maintains that a person can vote in whichever manner the person wishes even if it only matches the perspective or meets the needs of a particular group within the society, then a Jew voting in line with Jewish self-interests would be totally acting within the parameters of the society’s rules. It would seem to be difficult to contend that a Jew could not vote in this manner. But that wasn’t the precise question here. The question here is: whether one could vote against Jewish self-interests because of the needs of the society?
The answer to this question would most likely be a factor of weighing. Clearly what may be good for the society in general may also, most likely, be beneficial to the Jewish community within this broader society as well. It is thus difficult to define any question simplistically as presenting two positions, one good for the Jews and one not. As such, one must weigh the benefits of any position versus its costs. In this analysis, though, the fact that we have a social contract with the people with whom we live must also be considered as a factor within this weighing. One wishing to vote for a politician’s domestic policy must believe that it would serve the best interests of the constituents, Jew and Non-Jew. This is why the person is voting in this manner. The question is: what is one to do when this politician also has a policy that will harm another specifically Jewish group of non- constituents (as well as Jewish constituents)? The first demand must be to evaluate the extent of harm and the extent of benefit.
We clearly do have a responsibility to our fellow Jews and to Israel. Given that with the power of the vote we are given the liberty to vote simply as we wish, we have a right pursuant to the laws of our lands to vote in the best interests of Israel. We also, though, do have a responsibility to fellow Jews in our immediate society as well as, in fact, to all within our society. We thus, from a Jewish perspective, also have an obligation to evaluate the costs and benefits to our immediate society in our consideration. Obviously, at the extreme, if a politician has policies that will clearly, powerfully harm Jews anywhere in the globe, this politician’s positive domestic platform cannot sanction voting for this person. But if this politician’s policy may have some limited negative effects on Jews elsewhere such as in Israel, it is hard to totally outlaw voting for this individual if his domestic policies would have excellent results for his constituents. The specific question and circumstances would have to be evaluated. Hopefully, all our fellow citizens are also attempting the same evaluation. Of course, ‘I love my neighbour but he doesn’t care for me’ might change the entire criteria. This is, after all, a social contract.
Rabbi Benjamin Hecht Question: Watching the Royal Wedding, I was struck by how different it is to a Jewish wedding. Traditional Jewish ceremonies seem not to include vows to each other, for example. How can that be? Isn't that the whole point of the ceremony?
Maybe the place to start is with the word “ceremony.” The Oxford dictionary defines ceremony as “a set of formal acts, especially those used on religious or public occasions.” Our starting question may thus be: are “traditional Jewish ceremonies” ceremonies as defined by this dictionary? Our initial response may be that they certainly are. Are they not formal acts used on a religious occasion? But is a Jewish wedding a religious occasion as we generally understand this term? Within the context of the religions that surround us, weddings most certainly are, for it is a clergyman that is the active individual, marrying the couple. Within the world of Halacha, Jewish Law, though, this is not the case. Rabbis do not marry. The technical function of a Rabbi at a Jewish wedding is simply to ensure that all the legal (halachic), technical details marking this formation of a contractual entity of marriage are met. I know, this doesn’t sound too romantic. Yet isn’t this what marriage is really all about? You wonder why there are no vows in a traditional Jewish marriage ceremony for as you question: “Isn’t that the whole point of the ceremony?” Well isn’t the whole point of a marriage the formation of a new contractual entity, formed by a man and a woman, which defines the variant rights and obligations of these two parties to this new entity? The objective of the traditional Jewish marriage ceremony is thus to mark the exact moment that this new entity is created, not to define the nature of this commitment. That is already inherent to the formation of this entity.
It is within this context that we can understand the Jewish wedding. At its basic simplicity, at a Jewish wedding, a man and a woman marry each other. They are the participants in this activity. They marry themselves -- another, such as a rabbi, does not marry them -- just as in any contractual arrangement, the parties to the contract are the ones who form the contractual bond. The first mishna in Tractate Kiddushin thus informs us that there are three ways that this bond may be formed. The mishna’s use of the Hebrew root verb of koneh, generally translated as acquire, is often misunderstood. The mishna states that “is acquired (niknit) in one of three ways,” but what the root of this word koneh really reflects is a change in legal status due to a new association and what the mishna is stating is that a new marital unit can be formed in one of three ways. The practice today is to do so through a monetary transaction, namely the giving of a ring (an object of value) from the man to the woman done so with a statement that this transaction is done so for the purpose of marriage, i.e. to create this contractual entity. See, further, Shulchan Aruch, Even Ha’ezer 27:1. The universal practice of using a ring is already mentioned in Tosfot, Kiddushin 9a, d.h. V’hilchata.
We still, though, should be able to refer to this undertaking as a ceremony for, albeit it is not performed by clergy per se, it is still of a religious nature. Further discussion of this issue would take us into a whole investigation of what we mean by the term ‘religion’ and that is clearly outside the parameters of this response. The fact is, though, that the term ceremony may still be most applicable to this event for a wedding is clearly a public occasion. There is the further necessity that this action of marriage be done in the presence of two witnesses. On one hand, a traditional Jewish marriage ceremony is a private action undertaken by the parties to a contract that formalizes the exact moment that this new unity is formed and thus new rights and obligations emerge. It is done, however, in public – as indicated by this need for two witnesses and by the very nature of weddings to have guests – to inform the world of this new entity which must now act as so in the public domain as well. There are no vows in this “ceremony” for any responsibilities of the parties of this new contractual entity are already understood by the parties as inherent to the creation of this very entity. The ceremony simply marks the new entity’s institution.
The fact is, though, that the ketuba, the marriage contract, which explicitly outlines many of these obligations (especially those of the husband to the wife) is still read at a traditional marriage ceremony. The ketuba, in Aramaic, is, actually, an interesting focus of traditional weddings in that, in addition to being publicly read, it is signed publicly, prior to the wedding, by witnesses who are assured by the groom of his acceptance of his obligations. For more on the ketuba, one may wish to read The Jewish Way in Love and Marriage by Rabbi Maurice Lamm, pp. 197-206. The reading of the ketuba and its public signing by witnesses, however, are not necessary parts of the traditional Jewish marriage ceremony. These activities should not be seen as supplanting the vows found in other wedding ceremonies. The simple fact is that the traditional Jewish wedding ceremony is qualitatively different than other wedding ceremonies. The purpose of other, religious wedding ceremonies is to sanctify the union within the context of the religion. This is done by invoking the religion’s acceptance of this union through the declared vows within a religious context and the declaration of the officiating clergy that this union is indeed sanctified. Traditional Judaism, however, believes that a marriage union is inherently sanctified if the parties to this new entity themselves form this union in a proper fashion and with proper intent, accepting the rights and obligations that are inherent to this new union. It is then the public demonstration of this private commitment which marks the traditional Jewish wedding ceremony.
Question: I have two boys close in age who are constantly fighting. I know this is normal, but I have tried everything. The normal rewards and punishments don't work. I was wondering if there were any Jewish-values-based approach to sibling rivalry that I might try as a parent, or that I might try to tell the boys; Perhaps something "Divine" will have more of an effect....
This question raises many issues. What actually is the question even asking? Does Jewish thought perceive something unique or special in “sibling rivalry” that demands a specific response? Could the question not just be: how does one deal with any boys, close in age, who are fighting? In any event, could one answer even fit all? How is it possible to give advice, not knowing the personalities of the two boys, their ages, their environment? Our starting point should, perhaps, be exactly this, the environment, specifically the environment of the family. While we all desire a close family with strong bonds between its members, this cannot be taken as a given. The entire book of Genesis is a clear indication of this. Close family relations or even emotions cannot be assumed. At most, it can be an objective. Yet, our Matriarch Sarah’s direction to Avraham to send Yishmael away in order to protect Yitzchak (Genesis 21:9-15) also clearly indicates that it is not necessarily an overriding objective. There is a viewpoint in the Tosephta of Sotah, chap. 6, that could be interpreted as defining the issue between Yismael and Yitzchak as one of sibling rivalry, with Sarah, as the mother of Yitzchak, siding with her son over Yishmael, the son of Hagar. Such a position would seem to even indicate that the import of family harmony is actually limited. This view, however, would seem to be a minority one. Indeed the majority viewpoint, and the one that Rashi quotes, is that Sarah’s concern was the immoral behaviour of Yishmael and the effects such conduct might have on her son. Notwithstanding the value of family harmony, and even against Avraham’s feelings for his two sons, it was the directive of God that our Patriarch should listen to his wife and send his older son away. The lesson is that there is a value beyond family harmony and that must have priority. A goal of family harmony is not enough. There must be a goal beyond family harmony. The further lesson from the Torah may also be that service of this greater goal might actually encourage the development of family harmony. We are told of Yakov’s two sons, Yissasschar and Zevulun, who formed a pact whereby the former would devote his life to Torah scholarship while the latter provided for the physical necessities of both (Bereishit Rabbah 72:5). In this way, both would actually gain in that the benefits of the advanced Torah scholarship, in terms of its positive effects on the society and the person, would also be shared. It was the shared goal of both these brothers that brought them closer together. Maimonides in his Sefer Hamitzvot, Aseh 3, in discussing the commandment to love God, states that a person who loves God will also try and encourage the development and expression of this love in others. We can add that such focus will also further the love between human beings. This may be the first advice that the Torah can bring to this situation between these two boys. Present them with a purpose, an objective, a value beyond themselves and in encouraging the necessity of the participation of both, in their own particular way, in the goal, this shared endeavour could bring them closer and lead to more harmony rather than rivalry. This is, however, only part of the answer. The challenging, contradictory dialectic of parenting can never be forgotten. We are told that one of the reasons for the enmity between Yosef and his brothers was the special coat (“of many colours”) that Yaakov, their father, gave Yosef. Parents are thus instructed, in T.B. Shabbat 10b, to treat all their children equally. Favouritism for one child, even if not real but only perceived by the other children, can cause friction within a family. The necessary focus, as such, in correcting this situation with these boys may not be on the children themselves but on those around them. Proverbs 11 22, however, instructs us also to teach the child according to his/her way. The Vilna Gaon comments that this verse is informing us that we must always be cognizant of another’s personality and form our connections with others in line with this. The direction does not solely concern teaching but also the very structure of our relationship. We must, as such, also relate to each child as an individual with uniqueness in our interaction with each of them. Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch in his commentary to Exodus 25:27, in fact, states that the problems that emerged with Yaakov and Esav could possibly be traced back to the need for Yitzchak and Rivka to have had related to the latter differently, in line with his personality. The task of a parent is, thus, most challenging. They must, effectively, treat all their children the same, to ensure that there is no perception of a disparity in parental love; yet, parents must also relate to them distinctly, in line with each one’s own unique personality. Intense sibling rivalry may call upon the parents to re-evaluate the way they are interacting with their children – as well as how their children truly understand each other. Family closeness is not a given; it must be an objective, one which demands effort. A review of the story of Yosef and his brothers (Genesis 37:2 – 45:16), applying the words of major commentators such as Rashi, will indicate that this whole episode is a lesson in responding to and correcting, if possible, friction within a family. The question is often asked: why did Yosef, on becoming viceroy of Egypt, not send a message to his father that he was still alive? One possibility is that he did not simply wish to re-create the same reality of tension. He wanted to wait for the opportunity to perhaps correct the underlying problems in his relationship with his brothers before re-introducing himself into the family circle. Seeing his brothers before him in Egypt gave him this opportunity. This opportunity must also be sought here. It is never a simple matter to help our children to trust, with affection in the air and beyond deliberation – still, we can teach patience, insight and the mighty attempt to emulate God.
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