When in Doubt… Mesorah
by Rabbi Eliyahu Safran
Before confronting Esau face to face, Jacob sent emissaries with the message that begins, Im Laban garti – I have sojourned with Laban and I have lingered until now.
It was true. Jacob had lived (garti) around Laban but he had always remained a stranger, a ger. He had left his childhood home years before and then, as Rabbi Soloveitchik explains, lived “a long night of darkness, misery and distress.”
It is no easy task to live in an environment that is antithetical to one’s upbringing, but Jacob had not “gone off the derech.” As Rashi declares, “I have sojourned with Laban, yet I observed the 613 mitzvos.” Rav Soloveitchik amplifies, “He had not assimilated; he had not integrated himself into Laban’s society and community; he had not accepted their morals, their code of ethics, or their lifestyle.”
As Jews, we face profound challenges as we “sojourn” in this generation. We live in a culture and a society that does not promote or particularly respect that which is essential to our Jewish identity. Sometimes the challenges are obvious. Other times they are pernicious; they “creep up on us” in ways that feel safe and familiar. They become part and parcel of our daily lives – our habits, our vocabulary, the things we see and hear.
While Jacob remained as dedicated at the end of his time in Laban’s house as he was that first night spent on the cold stones of Beth El, we often find ourselves less strong to withstand the ever-present, illusory comfort of the ever more familiar.
With Chanukah approaching, we are reminded of how difficult it is to remain faithful in Galus, for Galus is our reality. How we understand and react to it defines us. For there are no walls tall enough nor moats wide enough to hold it at bay.
At the time of the Hasmoneans, it was not the Greeks who were our greatest threat. The threat was our own assimilation as we became completely – and happily – complicit in the Hellenization of our lives.
Then, as now, the world can seem more attractive than our “antiquated” ways. To our “modern” ears, the culture surrounding us makes more “sense”. Perhaps this sensibility is no more pronounced than in Open Orthodoxy’s call for a female rabbinate. After all, the argument goes, we live in a world where women run Fortune 500 companies; a world where we stand ready to consider a woman as our next President. Women compete in sports. They serve combat missions in war. Certainly Sara’le can become a rabbi, no?
The logic is so seemingly true. How can we stand on the “wrong” side of history?
In fashioning a response to Open Orthodoxy’s call for a female rabbinate, many of my revered and learned colleagues focus on citing sources in Talmud, halacha, and responsa literature as they seek to present a cogent and coherent rabbinic response based on sources. I applaud their efforts. However, let us be clear, the founders of Open Orthodoxy, its leaders and visionaries, are also versed in halacha and all relevant sources. They too sat at the feet of our same great teachers. They learned with Rav Soloveitchik Zt’l, Rav Dovid Lifchitz Zt’l, and the others. They absorbed the same truths we all did. So, with all due respect to my very learned colleagues, at the end of the day, this issue is not simply about halacha.
Oder es’helft nisht, oder m’brocht nisht.
These arguments are seemingly of no help. For every halachic point made by those who resist the female rabbinate, OO will counter with one they claim is in favor of a female rabbinate. But, in one arena of Jewish experience, an arena which is of equal standing to halacha, OO has no answer.
Mesorah. Tradition.
I close my eyes and try to imagine the Open Orthodox leaders meeting face to face with the Rav and Rav Dovid. I can hear the voice of our teacher as he asks, “Vos tu’tzech? What’s doing?”
“Oh, Rebbe, better in Hebrew.”
“Ma asisa im kol ma shelamadnu? What have you done with all that we learned?”
“Ata noisen semicha l’nashim.” “You grant semicha to women?”
I can see the look of astonishment in Rav Dovid’s kind eyes. “They gave semicha to women?” He looks lost. In a whisper, he utters the names of nearly all the G’dolei Yisroel of past generations and shakes his head. “They gave semicha to women?” He forcefully and lovingly holds the hand of the OO founder and asks, “Rav Chaim Ozer gave semicha to women?” He looks at his students. “And you, you have such audacity to give? Ma im kol ha’mesorah? “What’s with all of Mesorah?”
I cannot speak for those who founded OO but if Rav Dovid was confronting me in such a vision, I would fall to my knees in fear and trembling.
For Rav Dovid would be focusing on the core issue – it is not halacha, it is mesorah.
Mesorah is an equal partner to halacha. Without mesorah, we have no recognizable identity; it is the core of Jewish life and continuity. Moshe kibel torah miSinai, u’mesarah… Rambam lists shalshelet ha’mesorah – one generation after the next – in his Introduction to the Yad. So too in the Igeret of Rav Sherira Gaon. Mesorah is the essential ingredient that makes Jewish, Jewish.
A great historian once asserted that the uniqueness of Judaism is that, were our ancestors of old to join us at the table, or the beis midrash or in shul, they would feel right at home. Same Torah. Same tefillin. Same shechita. Mesorah! This is the gift and responsibility we receive from those who came before us, from father, mother, zeide, bubbe… this is what they have handed down to us.
Without mesorah, we can all be Open – Orthodox or otherwise. We can argue law and practice but to what purpose? Without mesorah Judaism loses its soul and, with the loss of its soul, we will finally be discarded at the outskirts of history.
It is not enough to define oneself as committed to halacha. It is vital to be equally committed to mesorah and all that that means. The vast majority of women in today’s Orthodox community study Torah. In many cases and in many communities, their learning and accomplishment goes far beyond anything we could have imagined. These fine, female scholars seek to become more appreciative of what they practice, to grow spiritually, to be better yiddisher mamas. But not in any manner to undermine our mesorah.
No one, least of all I, dispute the power that women can bring to learning and to study.
It was not all that long ago, in the early and mid-80’s that I not only led the Yeshiva University High School for Girls as principal but I also taught several classes a day. Along with my teaching colleagues, we taught at the highest levels. There was no “watering down” of the content or curriculum. We expected our students to master their coursework and we were proud to introduce textual learning of halacha, and Talmud. We studied Mishna Berura intensely. To say we accomplished a great deal would be an understatement. Our students gained a new and deep appreciation of Torah learning. The results speak for themselves. So very many of my students are now exceptional members of their respective communities. They are outstanding wives and mothers, many professional and highly regarded in their chosen fields, whether law, medicine, the arts, or education. Amongst them are highly-regarded Jewish scholars and teachers, the finest educators in the best Jewish schools. But, to the best of my knowledge, none of them are rabbis, rabbas or maharats; none of them aspired to usurp a role that has been outside the realm of their ancestors. Why would they? Their mothers and grandmothers would not recognize them! And who would want to be alienated from their forebears?
Our mothers, wives and daughters should be expected to be knowledgeable in Torah, halacha and Jewish learning. Our community is strengthened by each of its members being learned and immersed in Torah learning.
To become something other? To become a rabba? A maharat?
This would turn our mesorah on its head! You can be learned, pious, filled with spirituality. But, there are limits. An Yisrael cannot be a Kohen. A woman cannot be a rabbi.
It is not halacha. It is mesorah that allows us to remain Jews.
To live in our modern world is to live in a world of feminism, a world in which fairness and equality is confused with justice, where the temporal is confused with the eternal. It is easy to stand opposed to the RCA resolution, to stand on the side of the press, the loud voices, the “right side of history.”
But we Jews know a little bit about history, don’t we?
Our identity and our brit cannot be so easily changed, not by the call for assimilation or the violence of those who have hated us.
Compromise is easy.
Standing opposed to our transient culture is more difficult. It has always been so. Just ask Jacob.
Tradition, mesorah, is the ineffable quality of our lives. It is not dismissible because it is not carved in stone! It is to be afforded greater respect because it is not!
Cite all the sources you wish, all the passages in Shulchan Aruch, T’shuvot or whatever. Es helft nisht. It doesn’t matter. There will always be an answer. There will always be another response, right or wrong. The “chess game” can go on forever. But it is unnecessary. The truth is, mesorah does not allow it.
Period. Done.
Tradition.
Only that can keep us from tumbling off the roof and into the chasm.
Im Laban…
Rabbi Eliyahu Safran is an educator, author and lecturer. He served in the rabbinate for many years including in Pittsburgh, PA at Congregation Poale Zedeck, as well as in educational leadership positions including Yeshiva University High School for Girls. He served with OU Kosher as Senior Rabbinic Coordinator and Vice President – Communications and Marketing.
I would hardly write that “Mesorah is an equal partner to halacha.” The term handmaiden is perhaps more accurate. When a talmid asked the Rav ztl in shiur how he knows that tea is tavlin, he shot back how do you know yellow is yellow. There are many terms whose precise definition escaped chachmai ha’mesoreh, which could be conveyed only mimetically. Interestingly, the Rav continued that he saw his grandfather (I seem to recall grandfathers, but it may have been only singular) make tea in a kli sheni to which he added his brother’s chemical precision as support. Jews eating gefilte fish on Shabbat is hardly a halakha, though it may represent a way of avoiding bones. Mesorah is not an independent source of normative practice; it is subservient to halakha and like halakha can hardly be applied without context.
“It is not halacha. It is mesorah that allows us to remain Jews” – this seems to be at odds “with the following saying of R. Hiyya b. Ammi in the name of ‘Ulla: Since the day that the Temple was destroyed, the Holy One, blessed be He, has nothing in this world but the four cubits of Halachah alone.” – Berachos 8a. I respectfully ask the author to clarify his statement in light of this apparent contradiction with a befayreshe gemara.
Dear Rabbi Safran, you write: “It was not all that long ago, in the early and mid-80’s that I not only led the Yeshiva University High School for Girls as principal but I also taught several classes a day. Along with my teaching colleagues, we taught at the highest levels. There was no “watering down” of the content or curriculum. We expected our students to master their coursework and we were proud to introduce textual learning of halacha, and Talmud. We studied Mishna Berura intensely.”
I applaud your service, here, but your own efforts appear to have violated your own criteria. Teaching Oral Torah (and certainly Gemara) to girls is most certainly not traditional; more than that, it goes up against an explicit halacha (which we have since abrogated).
This seems to be an example of that fallacy that we all succumb to: our position is moderate, while we have reactionaries to our right and and radicals to our left.
[YA – “Tradition” is not synonymous with “mesorah.” The latter certainly allows for change – within limits. Mesorah, among other things, dictates that after each incremental change, those who have changed can look at the before and after without detecting any yawning chasms, any major discontinuities. That is not the way that rov minyan, rov binyan, and rov chachmei Yisrael look at Open Orthodoxy in general, and the ordination of women in particular. This was not true in every other case of change that you and other writers have pointed out.]
There never was a time that Rov Chachmei Yisrael approved of MO, approved of Zionism. There were a few who supported those movements but far from Rov. What has changed in the US can be traced to a then almost unnoticed event the Aliyah of RAL in the early 70s. It did not have an immediate impact-the Rav had a solid decade of leadership remaining. By 1984 when his sickness began to basically end his leadership it left a vacuum and Sheila’s from the institutions that the Rav used to answer-RCA,OU to some extent went to other tal meidei chachamim who even if they had been in the Ravs shiur rejected the Ravs haskafa.
Rabbi Adlerstein,
Would you please convert your comment here into a full-fledged post and expand upon it, bringing sources and examples? I think that this – acceptable vs unacceptable change within Judaism – is a very important topic that many people misrepresent, and that others, who do respect mesora, have a hard time articulating.
Thank you for your articulate and honest writing that tackles controversial issues head on yet is always in the spirit of our mesora.
SRS
[YA – Thank you! Thinking of it. Might happen, in time. So much to learn (and write!); so little time]
“Es helft nisht… The “chess game” can go on forever”
Mahrat supporters have a response to the Mesorah argument as well(see “Women Can Be Rabbis, In Keeping With Tradition”, Jewish Week, 11/3/15).
I argued that communal unity should give pause even if one disagrees with everything else(R. Marc Penner wrote this as well in August on Torah Musing, ” It may not be fair to argue that communal unity alone is a reason for proponents of Open Orthodoxy to change their strongly held opinions. However, the possibility of a tragic schism in our tiny community must give us all pause.). However, OO may believe that they can strike out on their own. The question for them is, is it worth a split. R. Berel Wein wrote this week in “The Irrelevance of It All”:
“Is there any evidence whatsoever that women rabbis strengthened Jewish commitment among the unaffiliated? Is there any reason, except for the empowerment of a few diehard women, to think that this issue should be at the forefront of Jewish life and rabbinic savants? It is completely irrelevant to the current situation of Jews and Judaism in the world. It will not convince the unfortunately alienated Jew to become more Jewishly committed and it will certainly not resonate with the vast majority of Orthodox Jews. So why pursue something that is so unnecessarily divisive and essentially useless? Why, indeed?!”
OO obviously believes it is useful and worth it…
I thought that the response by a Mahrat supporter was disingenuous, to say the least, and ignored the simple fact that even if a woman learned Daf Yomi Bhasmadah Mrubah, there neither is a chiyuv , let alone a kiyum hamizvah for any woman who spends her time doing so. Imitating what men have to do ( learning the ins and outs of TSBP) hardly should be viewed as a substitute for how women should strive for spirituality. I suspect that neither Nechama Leibowitz ZL nor Rebbitzeb Kanievsky ZL ( nor Yivadleinu Lchaim the wives of the kedoshim of Har Nof) were on a lower spiritual level R”:L than any feminist because the learning of Talmud was not part of their daily routine.
Steve Brizel, First, ask your rabbaim (particularly RHS) if a women learning be’iyun or just for bekius is a kiyum ha’mitzvah. Second, a women learning Talmud/SA be’iyun are not necessarily at a higher or lower spiritual level than the women you cite – probably just different. Only God will judge their actions/sincerity; leave it to Him.
The irony of the following statement is astounding.
“So very many of my students are now exceptional members of their respective communities. They are outstanding wives and mothers, many professional and highly regarded in their chosen fields, whether law, medicine, the arts, or education. Amongst them are highly-regarded Jewish scholars and teachers, the finest educators in the best Jewish schools. But, to the best of my knowledge, none of them are rabbis, rabbas or maharats; none of them aspired to usurp a role that has been outside the realm of their ancestors. Why would they? Their mothers and grandmothers would not recognize them! And who would want to be alienated from their forebears?”
In case it wasn’t clear, let me spell it out for you. He says, “…many professional and highly regarded in their chosen fields, whether law, medicine, the arts, or education.” He then says, “none of them aspired to usurp a role that has been outside the realm of their ancestors.” You mean like law and medicine?
With or without the label of rabbi, today’s women would hardly be recognized by their “grandmothers”… thankfully.
Their grandmothers were far better off than they in every sense.
“…I not only led the Yeshiva University High School for Girls as principal but I also taught several classes a day…to the best of my knowledge, none of them are rabbis, rabbas or maharats; none of them aspired to usurp a role that has been outside the realm of their ancestors. Why would they?”
At least one of my fellow alumna from YUHSGM, class of 1972 has worked as a congregational rabbi. I would be surprised if there have been no others in the 40+ classes that have graduated since then. Not in the orthodox realm, you say? No – they would have walked away from the Orthodox establishment because their learning fired a desire in them to lead and to spread learning. You taught them well, but they adapted your teaching to the world we live in.
Remember, the YU motto is still Torah U’mada – we don’t want to pretend the knowledge and experience we have today should not influence our understanding of Torah.
I also had rabbeim who were from Europe and I am sure their reaction would be exactly as Rabbi Safran said. But, he is correct that this alone will not dissuade anyone who believes in Open Orthodoxy from continuing on that path. These and those There are some former students of great teachers who revere their memory and still want to follow in their path and others who respect their teachers as humans but feel that things can change. Mesorah is elastic. We are on the road to a schism and that is a shame but it is what it is.
The mesorah argument apparently has been challenged by Rabbi Jeremy Wieder. He is a leading RY. Since he has argued against partnership minyan in,and the IBD. His argument that there is no mesorah argument against Women Rabbis certainly should be addressed. This does not take away from Rabbi Safran’s piece where it is clear that R David ZT’L would have been against women Rabbis. Just to be picky in Ennglish he spelled his name David on his letters to th extent there was ny English. Just a sociological point that people change how people spelled their names to agree with modern Chareidi practice.