QUESTION: I need to teach tolerance as a Jewish value. What Jewish texts can I use?

 

ANSWER:

 

Part One: A Synthesis of Jewish teachings of tolerance.

 

For the purposes of this answer, I will assume that the questioner is envisioning teaching in settings where the primary Hebrew sources need to be available in English translation and the secondary sources will be in English. If in fact there is need for other languages (Russian for recent immigrants, etc.), that can be handled in a follow-up question. I have confined my primary source citations to the most common and widely available texts, i.e. the Bible and the Talmud.

 

Tolerance is a key Jewish value—although, given the high degree of polarization of Jewish opinion in both Israel and the USA, tracking the liberal vs. conservative debate that is at the heart of western political life, this claim is perhaps more challenged today than in recent times. Nonetheless, Jews ought to resist having our own tradition’s clear teachings hijacked by the compartmentalization of topics that characterizes, each in its own way, both liberalism and conservatism.  Judaism has insights claimed by each camp. Tolerance belongs in both.

 

The Jewish notion of tolerance is rooted in the basic Jewish understanding of the relationship each of us has with the Other. Ever since Adam and Eve, the process of human development, as portrayed in Judaism, involves learning to live with the Other. Our first book, Genesis, depicts one strained relationship after another, until Joseph, at the end of the book (Genesis chapter 50) expresses the heart of the matter: we do not stand in the place of God, and therefore, we must be forgiving.

Tolerance of the Other is actually about tolerance of differences. This is the essence of the matter, because precisely by virtue of being different, the “Other” poses challenges to the “Self”.

The Hebrew value concept encompassing this is “kevod ha-b’riyot”, meaning “The honor of the Other.” The word for the Other literally means “[God’s] creations”. This phrase underscores the Jewish understanding that all people are children of God. As Rabbi Akiva phrased it, “Beloved is the human, for the human is created in God’s image.” (Pirke Avot 3:14).

Clearly, the chain of Jewish sources, both Biblical and Rabbinic, expressing the religion’s exhortation to Jews to obey the “Golden Rule”, is also appropriate to this discussion. Leviticus 19: 18, “v’ahavta l’reakha kamokha—love your neighbor as yourself” is the base text for this value. One of the founding fathers of the Rabbinic movement, Hillel, couched it as “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor”. H e also expressed the fundamental obligation to balance self-respect with responsibility to others: If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And when I am for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?” (Pirkei Avot 1:14).

 

    Within the broadest category of the “Other”, there are those concerning whom our tradition especially preaches and commands tolerance:

    One such group in need of—and receiving—the protection of the halakhah (the system of Jewish law) consists of people whose physical and mental abilities are different from most others’.  In the Talmud, Tractate Berakhot 58b, the Rabbis formulated a benediction to be recited upon seeing a differently-abled person, “Barukh ata… meshaneh et ha-b’riyot: Blessed are You, LORD… who makes people different.”

    This rabbinic celebration of physical and mental diversity, in turn, rests upon the Biblical insistence that everyone is created in God’s image, as mentioned above: See Genesis 1:26-27. The Bible itself translates that insight from the realm of narrative into the realm of law, by prohibiting various actions that would harm the disabled either physically or in reputation: Leviticus 19:14: “Do not curse a deaf person, and do not place a stumbling block before a blind person; Fear your God.”

    It follows that the worth of an individual is not limited to that person’s economic or social utility. We are commanded to be tolerant, regardless of whether the Other can be useful to us, because that is an essential part of our understanding of what it means to be human.

    Hence, the Jewish description of deeds of loving kindness performed on behalf of the dying or the dead as “hesed shel emet-- true deeds of loving kindness”; true, in the sense of being wholly altruistic and therefore undiminished by an expectation of reciprocity. This phrase is first attested in Genesis 47:29, when Jacob uses it to describe the request he makes of his son Joseph, to see to it that Jacob will be buried not in Egypt, but back home, in the Promised Land.

 

    The halakhah also specifies instances where people are at risk of harming each other because of their different histories:

    Classically, Jewish texts teaching tolerance are often presented as mitzvoth (commandments) concerning social and economic interactions. For example, the Jewish insistence that tolerance of others overrides narrow economic self-interest finds abundant expression in rabbinic laws about the ethical conduct of commerce. Mishnah Bava Metsia’ chapter 4 is an elaborate discussion of the concept of “’ona’ah”, “oppression”. For example, it is oppressive for the shopkeeper to take advantage of the gullibility of children.

    In that chapter, the Rabbis themselves extend their legal development of the prohibition against “oppression” to include verbal, as well as commercial, manifestations.  One is not allowed to remind a penitent of his former, sinful ways, nor a convert of his immoral conduct prior to his embrace of Judaism. (To be sure, that last prohibition reflects its times. Today’s converts would surely not all be presumed to have lived immoral lives prior to their becoming Jewish.) Again, in their commentary to the conclusion of Psalm 104, “yitammu chata’im min ha-‘aretz” (“Let sin disappear from the land”), the Rabbis emphasize: “sin”, and not “the sinner”. The import of this is to welcome the person whose past behavior had violated the norms of our tradition, but who is now penitent.  This, in turn, is connected to the theme of tolerance because it concretizes the value of suspending negative judgment on the Other.

 

    In recent years, our society has focused increasingly on those whose sexual orientation is not fully expressed by traditional categories. The discussion has lamentably become a political wedge issue.

    In adapting pre-modern Jewish sources for this contemporary discussion, it is important to remember first principles. One may read the classical halakhah and find various discussions in which the tumtum and the androginus (two categories of people whose sexual characteristics were either undeveloped or androgynous) were treated differently than males and females; but the overarching ethical reality is that all people are the Other whom we are bidden to love and respect.

    In the Conservative/Masorti denomination, discussions of gender differences and sexual orientation have progressed from the 1970’s, when the Rabbinical Assembly passed resolutions calling for the protection of the unabridged civil rights of homosexuals, to more recent resolutions, halakhic responsa and liturgies embodiment a greater degree of respect for and even celebration of our human diversity.

 

The Torah devotes much attention to enjoining tolerance of those belonging to groups other than Judaism. The commandment to “love the ger” (resident alien, living in the midst of Jewish society) is a leitmotif of the Biblical law codes.

Moving from Biblical texts, reflecting a model of a majority-Jewish society, to Rabbinics, reflecting the historical reality of Jews living as a minority within larger societies, we see a development of the theme of tolerance in Jewish-Gentile relations. Broadly speaking, Rabbinic Judaism develops two arguments in favor of tolerance of the non-Jew: first, our common humanity, and second, the need for Jews to seek peace by means of deeds of kindness to all.

The first argument: The Jewish people is one branch of the human family, a family that, following Biblical narrative, is envisioned by the Rabbis as proceeding from Adam and Eve, our universal parents. In a Rabbinic discussion concerned that witnesses not wrongly testify against defendants in capital cases, the judges are instructed to remind the witnesses of the narrative of Adam and Eve. In that discourse, the focus is on the ethical implications of asserting that humans are all descended from common ancestors, and therefore, that no one can say, “my blood is redder than yours”. We are all one human family, and therefore, no one can claim to be a superior breed of human to other groups (Mishnah Sanhedrin, chapter 4).

The second argument: The Rabbis codified a number of deeds of loving-kindness that Jews are expected to perform on behalf of Gentiles, as part of our commitment to darkhei shalom, the “paths of peace.” For example, Jews are bidden to visit the sick of the other nations, help in burying their dead, and so on.

 

    Finally, in the Jewish vision of y’mot ha-mashiach, the ideal future traditionally terms “the days of the Messiah”, tolerance replaces the fratricide of current-day inter-group relations. The prophet Isaiah expressed it in stirring terms: “Nation shall not lift up sword against nation; neither shall they learn war any more.” (Isa. 2:4) Thus, the broad tradition of Jewish teachings about the high importance of achieving and maintaining peace is also a resource for the teacher, looking to show students our texts on tolerance.

 

Part Two:

A SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY OF SECONDARY WORKS DEALING WITH THE JEWISH ARTICULATION OF THE VALUE OF TOLERANCE

 

1. General and Encyclopedic Treatments of Jewish Ethics, including topics dealing with tolerance:

Amsel, Nachum, The Jewish Encyclopedia of Moral and Ethical Issues. Jason Aronson,

    1996.

 

Birnbaum, Philip. A Book of Jewish Concepts. Hebrew Publishing Co., 1975.

 

Dorff, Elliot N.  The Way into Tikkun Olam (Repairing the World). Jewish Lights, 2005. See especially the concluding section, “Forward”, articulating a vision of how tolerance helps actualize a repaired world.

 

Freeman, Susan. Teaching Jewish Virtues: Sacred Sources and Arts Activities. A.R.E.

Publishing, 1999. See especially chapter 3, “Dan L’Chaf Zechut: Give the Benefit

Of the Doubt”, chapter 13, “Ohev Zeh et Zeh/ Mechabayd Zeh et Zeh: Loving and

Honoring Others” and chapter 21, “Somekh Noflim v’rofay Cholim: Supporting

And Healing”

 

Isaacs, Ronald H. Exploring Jewish Ethics and Values. Ktav, 1999.

 

Klagsbrun, Francine. Voices of Wisdom: Jewish Ideals and ethics for Everyday Living.

    Jonathan David Publishers, 1980.

 

Telushkin, Joseph. Jewish Wisdom: Ethical, Spiritual, and Historical Lessons from the

    Great Works and Thinkers. William Morrow and Co., 1994.

 

______________. A Code of Jewish Ethics, vol. 2: Love Your Neighbor as Yourself.

    Bell Tower, 2009/

 

2. Toleration in Biblical and Rabbinic Judaism:

Barukh Levine, “Tolerance in Ancient Israelite Monotheism”,

Jacob Neusner, “Theological Foundations of Tolerance in Classical Judaism” and

Alan J. Avery-Peck, “Tolerance of Idols and Idol Worshipers in Early Rabbinic Law…”,

all in

Neusner, Jacob and Bruce Chilton, editors, Religious Tolerance in World Religions.

    Templeton Foundation Press, 2008.

 

3. Philosophical Discussions of Tolerance within the Discourse of Jewish Ethics:

Fox, Marvin, editor, Modern Jewish Ethics: Theory and Practice. Ohio State University

    Press, 1975. See especially the role of tolerance in the ethical systems articulated

    by Ernst Simon, “The Neighbor Whom We Shall Love” and Emmanuel Levinas,

    “Ideology and Idealism”.

 

4. Jewish Sources and Perspectives on the Differently-Abled:

Astor, Carl, Who Makes People Different: Jewish Perspectives on the Disabled. United

    Synagogue of America, 1985.

Siegel, Danny and Michael Katz. Jewish Perspectives on Beauty and Ugliness. Leader’s

Training Fellowship publication of the Jewish Theological Seminary, 1978.

 

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Masorti/ Conservative

Rosh Chodesh Tevet, 5778

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let me emphasize, that you are free. A father’s past actions or inactions do not change that. Regarding the fact that your father did not provide a husband for you: over the many centuries of our people’s existence, we have had different kinds of arrangements for marriage. In the Bible, the prospective bridegroom would negotiate with the father of the bride-to be, as is recounted in the famous story of Jacob and Laban (Genesis 29:18).But even in Talmudic times, our societal customs were changing.The Talmud records that the ketubah (marriage contract) went through several stages of development, and by the end of the process, the groom presented it, as a kind of promissory note, directly to the bride, rather than giving a sum of dowry money to the father, as had been the case in Biblical times. In the Middle Ages, both status and ceremony continued to change.The practice of “Shiddukhin” developed, as a parallel to, first, Roman legal usage, and later, to the medieval Christian practice of engagement (Z.W. Falk, Jewish Matrimonial Law in the Middle Ages, p. 88).In modern times, in most Jewish circles, as well as in western society in general, it has become the norm, rather than the exception, for adults to make their own decisions as to a marriage partner, rather than expecting their fathers (or their parents, generally) to select mates for them. It is possible that you have grown up in a Jewish sub-culture where arranged marriages are still common, but the essence of adulthood is taking responsibility for one’s own life.  At 44, a woman can lament what her father failed to do for her, but it is important not to be trapped in a sense of helplessness.

 

There is even a biblical allusion to the fact that over time, women are correct to take greater initiative in arranging for their own marriages.In Jeremiah 31:22, we hear the prophet’s assurance that G-d’s creation is not limited to one historic social order, in which the male courts the female; part of the interaction of the Divine with history is that women are empowered to court, actively.

 

With respect to the final part of your question, that, being a mother, you would not be able to present a future husband with a first born-son, let me reassure you that perfection is not always attainable, but that should not deter us from doing such good as we can accomplish, and from enjoying such blessings as we may legitimately seek. There are many wonderful options for us, even in this imperfect world. If you were to find a man who wanted to build a future with you, the many positives of that scenario far outweigh the fact that a first-born child to the two of you would not classify as the peter rechem to which your question alludes.Our history is replete with examples of people who married after one or both had previously brought children into the world, and each marriage affords a precious opportunity for righteous and spiritually noble living.So, you should not be deterred from pursuing possible good relationships because of the fact that you have already brought a child into the world.

 

Finally, let me address the emotions that seem to be behind the questions, with their multiple question marks. The pain of regret and the sense of despair at contemplating a life of constricted options is certainly a hard burden to carry.You may find relief in the course of obtaining counseling from a reputable psychological professional.Theologically, let me leave you with the following text from our Psalms:

          'Anani b’merchav ya-h (Psalms 117:5)

Which is commonly translated, “In distress I called on the LORD; the LORD answered me and brought me relief”, but which we may also render, “From a place of constriction I called upon G-d, Who answered me [and showed me] broad vistas.”Do not despair of the hope that your life, now seemingly impoverished in options, will yet reveal meaningful pathways.

 

 

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Masorti/ Conservative

October 29, 2013/25 Cheshvan, 5774

 

     The basic answer to this question is that it is indeed unethical to lie to your boss for the purpose of getting a job elsewhere.  It is hard to imagine an ethical system that slights honesty as a norm.  Judaism teaches a high commitment to truth.  'Emet, "Truth", is considered one of the three pillars of the world. (Pirke Avot 1:18).  The Rabbis, adopting the symbol of a ruler's signet ring, say that "Truth is the signet of the Holy Blessed One."

     It may be that the questioner is motivated by a protest against an imbalance of power, in favor of the boss and against the employee.  Perhaps the questioner is hoping for some flexibility that will help to correct that imbalance, and thus, build some protection against abuses of power on the part of the employer.  One can be sympathetic with that desire, and yet not counsel that honesty is dispensable. I would suggest that "worker privacy" is a domain where some relief could be offered the questioner, although within fairly strict limits.

      The frame of the situation may suggest some of the practical issues that could arise.  Is the worker afraid to be honest about taking time off to look for other employment?  Here, the specifics of the worker's leave policy come into play.  I believe that a worker can be vague about the motivations for "personal leave"  (as opposed to sick leave, which is a specific claim that the worker is indisposed.) I also believe that a worker has a right to privacy.  If he or she is performing all required duties up to expectations, the employer does not have a right to know details about the worker's life that are unrelated to job performance.

     But it would not be ethical to push these considerations beyond their proper domain.  Essentially, the situations in Judaism where our tradition softens the rigors of honest reporting are to spare a third party, not to spare the person doing the prevaricating.  Thus, Hillel counsels that every bride is beautiful  (without specifying what defines beauty), and so it is correct to praise a bride for her beauty, even if conventional opinion would not judge that woman beautiful at other times-- as if conventional opinion really matters!  The Rabbis noticed an intriguing nuance in God's conversation with Abraham concerning Sarah's laughter of incredulity, when the Three Angels visited the couple and foretold that post-menopausal Sarah would give birth.  Sarah is reported as saying, "what, am I at long last to have delight, with my husband so old?" (Genesis 18:12) When God reported Sarah's speech back to Abraham (verse 13), he changed one crucial detail, and said that Sarah had described herself as being old-- herself, and not Abraham. The Rabbis infer that such a "white lie" is permissible in order to bring or preserve marital peace.  But none of these allowable prevarications serve as foundation stones for any structure that we might wish to build to justify prevaricating so as to harm another.  Leaving an employer represents at least a challenge, and possibly a harm, to the employer's interests.  Workers are not slaves, and have a right to leave their employment for better circumstances.  But they also have an obligation not to mislead the employer in the time period leading up to when they serve notice.

 

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Masorti/ Conservative

24 June, 2013/  16 Tammuz, 5773

In addressing this question, it is useful to begin with a methodological observation, appropriate to this question and to all others of its nature:  there are differences in vocabulary between some of our modern concerns and the language of our classical and authoritative sources.  In such cases, we need to find the closest parallels in our tradition, and then "translate" those expressions into contemporary vocabulary, consciously and responsibly.

 

In the topic of "Jewish values associated with pollution", we need to apply this general principle.  Until the last century, there was only a slight consciousness of the long-term and irreversible potential for damage associated with pollution.  People thought that the power of atmosphere, ocean and land to diffuse and neutralize pollutants was sufficient to free people from any need to curb their behavior.  Even a half-century ago, when Rachel Carson sparked the modern environmentalist movement with her Silent Spring, public opinion was divided, and today, there remain skeptics who dismiss global warming and other examples of dire consequences of human environmental irresponsibility.  Consequently, we would not expect to find a plethora of classical Jewish sources on pollution per se.

 

 

On the other hand, it is demonstrable that Judaism has always inculcated a respect for the environment, as God's creation.  If, prior to the Industrial Revolution and the modern population explosion, there was no specific need  to elevate that sense of respect to a special value and set of behavioral mandates, the basic concept of environmental stewardship is demonstrably an authentic Jewish teaching.   To extend these verses to support a contemporary Jewish call to curb pollution is a legitimate application of old wisdom to new problems.

 

We may cite three biblical texts as paradigmatic for articulating an ethos of environmental stewardship:  Genesis 1:31, Genesis 2:15, and Deuteronomy 11:13-21.  In the first of these verses, we read that God, seeing all of the Divine work of Creation, pronounced it "very good."  This is an amplification of the "behold, it was good" phrase associated with each of the six individual days of creation.  We may infer from this that, for the environment, "the whole is greater than the sum of the parts."  If we drive a species to extinction, we imperil the entire eco-system in which it played its part.  Pollution, along with climate change and habitat destruction, is one of the most culpable drivers of extinction, now proceeding at a pace comparable with the great extinctions of the geological past.

 

In Genesis 2, the Garden of Eden story, God places the human(s) in the Garden, "to work it and to safeguard it."  That expresses a basic understanding of our relationship to the natural world.  Humans are entitled to work it for our benefit, but not to the point of damaging it irreparably.  The "working" and the "safeguarding" need to remain in balance.

 

The Deuteronomy text, known to many as the second paragraph of the "shema" prayer, castigates the Israelites for idolatry.  It warns them that the consequences of worshipping false gods will be ecological catastrophe and the destruction of our land's ability to sustain us.  This passage was an embarassment to certain non-Orthodox thinkers, a few generations back.  For example, the great Reconstructionist theologian, Mordecai Kaplan, omitted that passage from his prayer book.  After all, how could a modern Jew, imbued with a scientific world view, believe that God micromanages the environment to allow rain to fall upon the just and withold it from the unjust?  But today we may rightly read that passage as especially timely.  For,in castigating idolatry, the biblical text may be understood as an indictment of the thoughtless environmental irresponsibility that we, as a species, are practicing on a dangerously augmenting scale.  At its heart, the behavior of the polluter says that there are no limits that humans need to respect, no human actions whose consequences will trigger natural changes that we can not control or remedy.  That refusal to recognize our basic limits is a form of self-worship-- the most characteristic idolatry of our era.  Seen in this light, Deuteronomy 11:13-21 is chillingly relevant:  when we idolize ourselves and fail to live gracefully within God's world, we bring about ecological disasters that will sweep us away.

 

Turning from biblical to rabbinic literature, we likewise find texts that we can marshal for the case that Judaism mandates respect for God's creation and prohibits behavior, such as pollution, expressing disrespect for the environment that God has made.  Genesis Rabbah 10, commenting on Genesis 2:1, "[The heavens and the earth were finished} and all their hosts," emphasizes that every species has its worth in the divinely-constructed ecological web. "Even those species that you see and conclude are superfluous in the world, such as flies and gnats-- even they are among the things divinely created;  and God uses each of them to fulfill Divine purposes."  Here, again, is a basic statement of respect for the diversity of life on earth, and by extension, an underpinning for a contemporary expression of the Jewish ethos of environmental responsibility.

 

In summation:  the application is contemporary, but the Jewish teaching to respect God's world and to avoid polluting it is fully authentic.  In fact, today, it is more important than ever that Jewish teachers expound this teaching vigorously.

 

June 7, 2013/  29 Sivan, 5773

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Masorti/ Conservative

 

 

It would be disingenuous to pretend that Judaism is not pro-parenthood.  As the questioner correctly states, parenthood is a commandment.  Indeed, it is traditionally thought of as the first commandment, because the blessing that God gave to the first humans, as recorded in Genesis 1: 28.  Interestingly, the language of that verse is not self-evidently the language of commandment.  The biblical words can be parsed as a blessing, i.e. a partaking of some aspect of God's power on the part of created beings.  Similarly, a few verses earlier, in Genesis 1:22, God blessed the animals, saying that they shall be fruitful and multiply-- and there is no way to read that as a commandment.  Nonetheless, rabbinic tradition construed these words to the first humans as a mandate-- humans not only can procreate, but they ought to, under the correct conditions

 

That last restriction, "under the correct conditions", may serve as a consolation for the questioner, and also as a spur to further reflection.  She might want to explore the psychological roots of her lack of comfort with children-- but regardless, If, upon mature consideration, she is convinced that she would not function well as a biological parent, then she may legitimately conclude that this is one commandment that she will not fulfill in its literal sense.  But surely, there are other ways in which she can help secure the future of our human species and, more specifically, of the Jewish people!  One need not be a biological parent to be a blessing in the lives of children.  Volunteering in any of the many youth-oriented programs of synagogues, or in Jewish parochial and supplemental schools, may give the questioner a way to grow closer to children without the danger of being an unsuccessful parent.  Regular participation in the institutions of Jewish life will give the children whom she contacts to see, in her, a worthy model for emulation.  

 

I would imagine that the questioner is of child-bearing age; otherwise, there would not be much point to the question.  Her age bracket gives her the opportunity to provide an accessible model of good conduct for children.There are congregations where, unfortunately, pre-bar mitzvah children generally see their grandparents' generation, and not other members of their parents generation, from one shabbat to the next.  Steadfast attendance at worship services can function, not only as a mitzvah in its own right, but also as a gift to the children who will be present.

 

More generally, as our generation is fond of repeating, "it takes a village to raise a child."  This bit of wisdom resonates well with Jewish tradition.  All of us, as a Jewish community, need to create an atmosphere of ethical choices, of spiritual concerns, and of reverential patterns of religious conduct, to do the work of tikkun olam that is, in a general sense, our gift to our children. 

 

Without in any sense promoting flippancy towards the non-fulfillment of one or another of the commandments, it is nonetheless appropriate to remind ourselves that, in the Rabbinic view expressed at the end of the Mishnaic tractate "makkot", God gave us many commandments to provide many opportunities for the refinement of our character.  Instead of seeing "100 % as the minimum passing grade" and being disabled by scrupulousness over the non-fulfillment of every last one of them, we ought to fulfill all the mitzvot that we can, and to seek to perform those deeds with both joy and reverence.

 

Hopefully, one day in the future, the questioner will be able to look back upon a life of many mitzvot fulfilled, and to conclude that she may not have been the leading lady in the drama of the upbringing of any one family of children, but that she was a critically important supporting cast member in the large-scale drama of the upbringing of the rising Jewish generation.

 

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Masorti/ Conservative

1 Iyyar, 5773

 

 

 

 

                           

1.  The questioner is correct in citing Chanukah as an example from history of the need for the Jewish people to resist oppression.  In fact, Chanukah represents the first successful revolt on behalf of religious freedom in world history!  And so, in addition to the lesson of self-reliance, we can add the lesson of the importance of the free exercise of religion, one of the famous “four freedoms” that President Franklin D. Roosevelt identified as characteristically American concerns.  The free exercise of religion means that a society will celebrate—or at least tolerate—religious diversity, internally, and will avoid looking at the international scene through lenses distorted by jihad or crusade mentality.
2. The history of the Hasmonean leaders of the Jewish people, before and after the Chanukah holiday, contains other lessons, as well.  The Jewish people were bitterly divided in the decade prior to the Hasmonean revolt.  Some Jews advocated total assimilation into the Greek cultural sphere.  Others were totally opposed to change.  The Hasmoneans themselves pursued a middle course, opting to acculturate in certain matters, but resisting any encroachment on fundamental Jewish perspectives and practices.  Notice that the birth of the holiday was itself a religious innovation!  The Five Books of Moses do not contain any holidays, initiated by Moses and Joshua, the successful generals, to commemorate a military victory.  That action was more in line with what Hellenistic generals were accustomed to doing.  Similarly, we find that the later kings of the Hasmonean dynasty, such as John Hycanus (reigned 134- 104 BCE) and Alexander Jannaeus  (103-76 BCE), styled themselves by Greek as well as Hebrew names. As in so many other examples from Jewish history, knowing how to balance tradition and change is an important lesson from Chanukah.
3. There may be a nuance in the questioner’s formulation of encouraging Israel to disregard the positions of outsiders, including allies, if there are differences of opinion.  I would uphold the religious and ethical mandate of Israel, as a state created with the responsibility of protecting Jewish life in a hostile world, to take lonely stands, when it is in the right.  But splendid isolation is not a good in and of itself.  One of the lessons of Chanukah is that the Jewish state needs to court strategic allies, when possible.  In his struggle against the Seleucid overlord, Judah Maccabee sent a diplomatic mission to Rome, where it was well received, with the result that, “for the first time since the Exile, the Jews were recognized as an independent power, and by the very people that ruled the world.” (Elias Bickerman, From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees, p. 133.)  By extension, Israel should have a regard for the maintenance of its alliance with the United States, the foremost among its allies.

 

Although we often think of religious matters as being fixed for all time, in fact, they, too, have histories.  Conversion to Judaism is a classic case in point. 

 

In the Bible, we do not see evidence of ceremonies of conversion.  Israelites were the majority culture in their own land, and people entering that society were known as "aliens", gerim. The Bible commands the Israelites to be kind-hearted and generous towards gerim.  In some instances, laws were commanded "for alien and for citizen alike", whereas in other cases, notably the consumption of the annual Passover offering, aliens were specifically excluded from the ritual.

 

What we identify as conversion to Judaism is a product of the post-Biblical period, and for a very powerful reason:  in that later era, Jews lived not as the citizens of an independent state, but rather, as the members of an internally-autonomous community, living inside of some larger state headed by a Gentile political authority.  Hence, "becoming Jewish" meant something very different than it had meant in the days of the Bible.

 

The Rabbis, who were vituosic masters in reinterpreting Judaism so as to be relevant to changing times, codified the procedures for receiving converts in their era of Jewish life.  The candidates needed to satisfy their interlocuters that their motivation was sincere, and henceforth, they were to be "received immediately", while being taught some portion of the commandments.  The rituals connected to receiving candidates included circumcision, for males, and immersion in a proper ritual bath, for both males and females. These procedures and rituals are spelled out in The Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Yevamoth,  46b, and codified in the standard medieval rabbinic law codes (Tur and Shulchan Arukh, Yoreh De'ah, # 268.

During the later Middle Ages, Jews lived under increasingly harsh political conditions, both in Muslim and in Christian lands.  The dominant faiths sought to triumph over Judaism.  Among the legal disabilities that they heaped upon the Jewish minority in their midst were harsh penalties designed to deter the Jewish community from receiving converts.  In those difficult circumstances, Jewish leaders developed a skeptical attitude towards would-be converts, dissuading them repeatedly before deciding to admit the most persistent.

 

Further changes in both attitudes and curricular preparation have accompanied the emergence of rival denominations in modern Judaism.  In the late 19th century, Reform Judaism focused on ethical as opposed to ceremonial behaviors, and in many Reform circles, circumcision and immersion were dropped;  conversion candidates were received in synagogue ceremonies, without those other traditional rituals.  In the 20th century, the (then-new) Conservative movement retained the traditional rituals, but relaxed the intially adversarial attitude.  By mid-century, a typical Conservative rabbi would have a serious "heart to heart" discussion with a prospective candidate, to verify that the intention was worthy, but the late- medieval practice of dismissing a would-be convert several times ceased to be part of the religious practice of that denomination.  Considering the sociological changes overtaking American Jewry, with intermarriage on the rise, the conversion of candidates engaged to Jews became a new priority.

 

Since its inception in the 19th century, the modern representatives of Jewish Orthodoxy have understood their movement as counter-cultural, defying the secularizing currents of western society.  Hence, there have been dynamic processes at work within Orthodoxy designed to "raise the bar" in many areas of religious life. 

 

Thus, while both Conservative and Orthodox denominations define themselves as loyal to halakhah (Jewish legal tradition), the one typically takes a liberalizing approach within the law, and the other, an ever-more stringent approach. 

 

This historical orientation ought to make the current position of the Orthodox Chief Rabbinate in Israel more explicable. Israel is, by definition, a Jewish state, and yet there are different and competing definitions of Jewish identity in Israel today.  The Orthodox Chief Rabbinate, which functions within the sphere of Israeli politics, is lobbying for acceptance of a stringent definition.  In the area of conversion, that translates into less and less trust in the validity of the conversion process, unless it has been conducted by party-approved functionaries, i.e. rabbis acceptable to the current hierarchy.

 

I regret that the answer to this questioner is, "it depends on whom you ask".  A Conservative Jew will accept the legitimacy of a Reform conversion, but only if the rituals of a religiously-celebrated circumcision (where applicable) and immersion have been fulfilled.  Further to the right in the religious spectrum, the rejection of conversion work supervised by outsiders becomes automatic. An Orthodox Jew will not accept the legitimacy of a Conservative conversion. An Ultra-Orthodox Jew will not accept the legitimacy of an Orthodox conversion... and so on.

 

I would counsel the questioner to consider, as best he or she is able, the likely trajectory of his or her post-conversion life.  If, by the best reckoning that can now be known, the questioner intends to live in a Reform or Conservative setting, then completing a conversion under the auspices of rabbis of the relevant denomination will surely suffice.  If the questioner intends to live within the Orthodox community, then no other authority will suffice.  Again, does the questioner intend to convert to Judaism and then to emigrate to Israel?  That factor could also enter in the choice now--- although the questioner should know that both Reform and Conservative (Masorti) Jewish denominations are expanding their presence in Israel and serving the needs of many who regard themselves as being in the broad, middle zone between totally secular, and traditionalist sectarian.

 

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Masorti/ Conservative

 

1.  It bears high emphasis that all Jews are the members of one people.  Wherever Jews live, they are united by kinship as well as creed.  National identities in the countries of the Dispersion, while often significant to the cultural and political nuances of the Jewish experiences there, are in no sense a denial of the overarching—some would say, the mystical!—unity of the Jewish people.

2. As I understand the second part of the question, it seeks to understand the degree of importance of Israel in Diasporic Jewish self-understanding.  Do Jews living outside of Israel regard the modern Jewish State of Israel as importance in their Jewish identity, and if so, to what degree?

3. In the third section of the question, I would affirm the first and last options, rather than the second:  Diasporic and Israeli Jews do have much to contribute to each other, and that is consistent with the State of Israel and its society being at the center of Jewish focus.

 

 

 

 

1. The history of this issue: The prohibition of eating rice and “kitniyot” (basically, legumes) is a position taken by only one authority, Rabbi Yohanan ben Nuri, in the Talmud (Tractate Pesachim 114b).  The majority of Talmudic Rabbis disagreed with him, and the early post-Talmudic codifications of the law contain no such prohibition. It first reappears as a stringency adopted by some leading Ashkenazic rabbis, beginning with the “Sefer Mitzvot  Katan” in the 13^th century.  It never achieved a full consensus in the main halakhic codifications, but it ultimately became the standard custom of Ashkenazic Jews. The rationale behind the prohibition is that those foodstuffs could also be used in making a bread-like product.  Sephardim have never accepted this argument.  Maimonides, following the Talmud, states that the fermentation of legumes produces a kind of "spoilage", but not “chametz”. (Hilkhot Chametz U-Matzah 5:1).  In sum, for Sephardim, only the five species of cereal grain that can be used to make matzah, i.e. wheat, barley, rye, oats and spelt, can turn into chametz (Tractate Pesachim, 35a).  Even Ashkenazim recognize that kitniyot are not chametz.  Although they do not consume those foods on Pesach, they do not remove them from one’s property, as is done with true chametz.
2. In its ongoing engagement with Jewish law, the Conservative/Masorti movement has retained the Ashkenazic custom, albeit with the understanding that it functions as a custom, not an immutable law.  Therefore, the “Committee on Jewish Law and Standards” of the Rabbinical Assembly has authorized some flexibility regarding kitniyot:   a vegan may consume them if he deems them vital for health maintenance; peanuts are no longer considered kitniyot, and may be consumed, along with derivatives such as natural, unprocessed peanut butter and peanut oil; and, of course, Sephardim may consume them, since they have no custom barring it. (Summary Index, Committee On Jewish Law and Standards, 7:2, s.v. “Kitniyot”)
3. The questioner cites convenience as the rationale for contemplating breaking with family tradition.  I would not deem that rationale as sufficient.  It is not overly difficult to create an ample and satisfying diet for the seven or eight days of Passover, based on the abundance of excellent and seasonal produce available in Israel, and, if the questioner is not a vegan, on the top-quality dairy products available there, let alone eggs, fish, poultry or meat.
4. There might be other rationales that would be stronger, should other readers raise a similar question.  Since the prohibition on the consumption of kitniyot is a matter of family and community tradition, we can acknowledge that some people enter our communities by a process of conversion to Judaism, and are at the point of first founding their family traditions; still others have evolving family identities, because of Sephardic and Ashkenazic partners marrying each other.
5. The issue of community membership applies on Passover, in a sense analogous to the general issue of membership in a kosher-observant circle.  If one intends to invite others to dine on Pesach, and to accept reciprocal invitations, that provides an additional rationale for maintaining a standard of stringency commensurate with one’s communal circle.  In theory, a person might see no objection to eating kitniyot, and yet desist, because of these social concerns.
6. Finally, I would urge that we take a moment to shift focus away from the somewhat technical considerations of the foregoing paragraphs, and to contemplate that the kosher- observant public has witnessed a dramatic and unprecedented proliferation of kosher for Passover products.  One could justifiably come away from a shopping trip to a kosher grocery with a nagging sense that we have “overdone it”, with our myriad substitutes for baked goods, breakfast cereals, etc.  Among the cherished memories of Passover observance that this author prizes are those of simple fare, enjoyed in the company of loving family and close friends.  Regardless of whether one is ultimately more or less stringent with respect to the consumption of kitniyot among Ashkenazic  families living in Israel,  I would urge that we invest some energies into the mindfulness that will make the consumption of Passover-appropriate foods not an end in itself, but a means towards a savoring of freedom, against towering odds, accomplished with God’s help.

 

 

1. The prophet Jeremiah’s inaugural vision included the mandate “to uproot and tear down, to destroy and to raze, to build and to plant” (Jeremiah 1:10).  The work of removal of the old precedes the work of emplacement of the new.  Conceptually, the first task is to “de-nazify” the property, if indeed any residue of Nazism inheres in it.  One might give the former owner the benefit of the doubt, based on the research of the questioner, but it is easy to understand that misgivings endure.  The collusion of the entire German people in the work of Hitler, up through the early years of the Second World War, is unfortunately all too well documented.  So many “anti-Nazis” only became so when the tide of war turned against Germany, or even later still, when they reinvented their past to succeed in the post-war era.  Even so, we should be guided by the maxim of Deuteronomy 24:16, “Parents must not be put to death for children, nor children be put to death for parents: a person shall be put to death only for his own crime.” If the previous owner was too young to have taken part in the Nazi era, then he was innocent, and his house was not at all implicated.  On the other hand, if indeed the house sheltered Nazi supporters, and made them comfortable while they played a  role in the crimes of that era, then the cleansing that the questioner has in mind is apt.  But there is no question of “judicial guilt”.  A house is a shell, until people invest it with values that make it a home.
2. I recommend creating a liturgy of dedication upon the beginning of the actual work of construction, after the site has been cleared. It is correct and praiseworthy to create moments of dedication and consecration.  Certainly, the occasion of preparing a new domicile is one of life’s important transitions, and worthy of spiritual commemoration.  The Hebrew term  chanukkat ha-bayyit, “dedication of the house”, goes back to the Bible, and I recommend including Psalm 30, the “Psalm of David, for the dedication of the house” as part of the questioner’s own liturgy of dedication.  Upon entering the completed new home, the questioner is well advised to adopt one of the existing liturgies accompanying the mitzvah of placing a mezuzah on the doorpost.  All of these liturgies make Deuteronomy 6:4-9 central:  Hear, o Israel, the LORD is our God, the LORD alone… You shall love the LORD your God… Take to heart these instructions… inscribe them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” I personally recommend the fine compilation of spiritual texts in the Rabbinical Assembly Rabbi’s Manual.
3. The central Jewish teaching regarding living nobly despite our human imperfections is teshuvah, “repentance”.  Full repentance, as Maimonides teaches (Laws of Repentance, chapter 2), is the conscious decision to change one’s life, actualized in the proper decision when faced with the same problem.   Living on the property that the questioner describes could well serve as a spur to mindfulness, a reminder that the Jew can best respond to the Holocaust by living out what the Holocaust survivor and Jewish theologian, Emil Fackenheim, has described as “the 614^th commandment—thou shalt not grant Hitler any posthumous victories.” That would include a life of Jewish engagement, because Hitler attempted to destroy the religion as well as the people;  a consecration of energies to defend the Jewish people from its current threats, which are all too real; and a posture of readiness to prevent the plague of bigotry against any group from recurring.

 

 

These Hebrew letters are an abbreviation, and are often marked as such by the inclusion of diagonal marks between the letters, thus: P"N.  They stand for the words "poh nikbar" (masculine) or "poh nikberah" (feminine), meaning "here lies buried".

 

A poetic and less common variant is P"T, "poh tamun" or "poh temunah", meaning, "here lies hidden".

 

It is traditionally correct to include one of these designations when a marker is placed on an occupied grave.  When putting up a marker, without a body being buried in that grave, the letters are omitted.  That is done when there is no body to bury, such as when someone has been lost at sea, or in an all-consuming fire, and there are no available bodily remains to lay to rest.

 

Other Hebrew information that it is correct to include on a gravestone include the name of the deceased, including the parents' names, for example:  "Ploni ben Almoni", "x, son of y"-- "bat" for "daughter", instead of "ben",  when a woman is buried.  It is also proper to include the Hebrew date of death, known as the "yahrzeit" date.  Finally, on the bottom of the gravestone, it is customary to write five letters, an abbreviation of a five-word prayer:  T'  N'  TS'  B'  H', standing for "tehi nishmato (nishmatah, for a woman) tserurah bitsror ha-chayyim, "let his/her soul be bound up in the bundle of life eternal."

 

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Masorti/ Conservative

Jan. 31, 2012/ 7 Shevat, 5772

Answer:

 

Except for some fringe elements among the ultra-Orthodox, there is a strong Zionist consensus among Jews.  The challenge of the Holocaust caused former non- and anti-Zionists among the Jewish people to change their earlier opinion in favor of Zionism, and that remains the position of the overwhelming majority of Jews, across denominational lines.

 

In the early years of the independence of Israel, 1948-1967, two factors served to unify world Jewish opinion of the need to stand solidly behind Israel, politically and ecnomically: support for Israel in the face of the existential threat to Israel’s physical survival posed by Arab hostility, and appreciation for the enormous financial burdens undertaken by the Jewish state to gather in the millions of Jewish refugees from the Arab world and from post-Holocaust Europe.

 

Some disagreements within world Jewry about Israeli policies began to come to the surface in the post-1967 period.  After Arab counties, meeting in Khartoum, September, 1967, rebuffed Israel’s attempt to give back the territories captured in The Six Day War in exchange for recognition and peace, Israeli settlement in the administered territories began to accelerate. The pace of that settlement picked up after the accession of Prime Minister Begin's government in 1977. Mirroring the increasingly acrimonious divide between liberals and conservatives in the United States, some American Jews criticized Israel’s settlement policies in the West Bank and Gaza, while others defended Israel’s policies as a repair of the geographical weakness inherent in the pre-1967 borders.  Within that ongoing debate, Conservative/ Masorti Jews, in those years, expressed worry that the settlements would make an eventual “land for peace” exchange more costly and difficult.  Nonetheless, those worries were secondary to the strongly cherished Zionism that had become a powerful part of post-Holocaust, post-1948 Jewish identity.

 

In the past quarter century, the continuing lack of a regional peace has polarized American Jewish opinion still further.  Many American Jews have hardened in their attitudes, growing more skeptical of land trades for peace.  This is especially the case in the past decade, after the PLO- organized “intifada” in response to Prime Minister Barak’s offers for territorial withdrawal at the 2000 Camp David peace summit, and again, with the Hamas employment of Israel’s withdrawal from Gaza in 2005 to use that land as a launching pad for missiles against southern Israel.  On the other hand, some Jews fear that the demographic increases among the Palestinians, coupled with the nuclear ambitions of Iran, make a “two-state” solution, involving an Israeli withdrawal from much of its post-1967 settlements, ever more imperative.  While it is easy to oversimplify, one can say that, in broad terms, the more politically and religiously liberal diasporic Jews are more critical of Israel’s caution in offering further concessions, while the more politically and religiously conservative among American Jews emphasize the dangers of unmatched concessions.  Conservative/ Masorti Jews, self-identified as moderates, tend to split internally on this issue.

 

Apart from political differences of opinion, there are also intra-Jewish religious tensions that affect, if only secondarily, the relationship of Diaspora Jews to Israel. Repeatedly since 1970, Conservative/ Masorti Jews have experienced frustration with the Israeli governmental establishment of Orthodoxy as the state religion.  In 1970, 1977, 1988 and 1997, as well as in the past decade, the government has entertained proposals to amend the fundamental Israeli Law of Return to discredit conversions to Judaism conducted by Conservative and other non-Orthodox rabbis.  Currently, yet another round of this periodic irritant in Israel-Diaspora Jewish relations is unfolding.

 

Finally, the American Jewish concern with its own continuity sometimes leads diaspora Jews to urge that the support for Israel not be misconstrued as a panacea to reinforce a sense of Jewish identity in an age of assimilation.  Calls for this reevaluation were especially prominent in the period right after the Oslo Peace Accord of 1993, when hopes for Mid-East peace ran high.  With today’s greater pessimism about Israel’s likelihood of finding a respite from the hostility of its Arab neighbors, such calls to lower the role of Israel in American Jewish thinking have diminished.

 

Above all, it bears emphasis that the support for Israel on the part of American Jews has remained strong, despite stressors.

 

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Conservative/ Masorti

Sept. 3, ‏2010‏

May a Jew that went through a Reform Conversion move to Israel under the law of return?

 

Speaking from a Conservative/Masorti Jewish perspective, I would initially delineate two issues, one posed explicitly, and the other one implicitly, in this question:

 

1.      Is a conversion to Judaism conducted under Reform auspices recognized in Israel?

2.     Is there a Conservative/Masorti  Jewish approach to Reform conversions, independent of the official Israeli political stance?

RESPONSE:

1.        The Israeli Law of Return, a basic part of the law operative in the State of Israel, provides for Jews to move to Israel and claim citizenship immediately.  Since this law covers converts to Judaism, and since the Orthodox in Israel (as elsewhere) do not accept the legitimacy of non-Orthodox conversions, there have been numerous, Orthodox-inspired attempts since the 1970’s to amend the Law of Return so as to restrict the applicability of the Law of Return to native-born Jews and to those converted under Orthodox auspices.   While the legislative and political history of these attempts is complicated, the basic situation today is that, for purposes of citizenship, Israel still accepts non-Orthodox conversion as competent to enable the immigrant to invoke the Law of Return.  However, the Rabbinic courts, authorized in Israel to handle issues such as marriage, refuse to treat such citizens as Jewish.

Responding to that state of affairs from a Masorti/Conservative viewpoint:  I lament the politicization of the “Who is a Jew” question in Israel.  It has brought out so much that is negative, and even brought people into the category of violating the prohibition against “sin’at chinam”, “Causeless hatred”.  That prohibition is such a key component of the Jewish values structure that the Rabbis have identified it as the reason why the Second Temple was destroyed. It stands as a cautionary teaching for all who cherish the State of Israel today. 

The basic problem stems from the delineation of Orthodox Judaism as the “established synagogue” of the State of Israel.  The separation of “Church and State”, or more correctly, “Synagogue and State”, in Israel, would not only end the gross offenses against Jewish unity that now receive state sanction.  Such a separation would also be good for the cause of Judaism.  Removed from the power political mindset fostered by its connection with governmental power, the Orthodox movement would adopt the non-coercive outreach programs now practiced by the Reform/Progressive and Masorti/Conservative streams in Israel.  That would be likely to bring more secular Israelis under the beneficial influence of Jewish tradition, while keeping Judaism the religion of a people rather than a sect.

2.       The Conservative position on conversion to Judaism differs from some, although not all, Reform practice, in that not all Reform rabbis insist on the ceremonies of immersion in a mikveh (i.e. tevilah) for both male and female converts, and circumcision (milah) for male candidates.  For Conservative Judaism, these are official standards of practice, and may not be waived.  When a person, having been converted under Reform auspices, approaches a Conservative/Masorti rabbi, there is no automatic rejection of the conversion based on its having been supervised by a Reform leader.  If the conversion had not included the ceremonies of immersion and, for males, circumcision (or symbolic circumcision, if the male had previously been circumcised in a purely surgical context), then the Conservative/Masorti  rabbi is likely to invite the convert to “complete the conversion process” by observing those ceremonies.

Rabbi Michael Panitz

Temple Israel of Norfolk, Va. (Masorti/ Conservative)

August 24, 2010/ 14 Elul, 5770