Reflecting on Judaism

For those interested in the present state of Orthodox Judaism, reading the above named book by Rabbi Dr. N.L. Cardozo is a must. To say that it is a good read is an understatement. Not that one would necessarily agree with everything the author writes but he raises questions and makes comments that one would not expect to find in a book promoting this particular subject. The first chapter alone contains sufficient material to stimulate several interesting debates. He chastises the community for not asking sufficient and probing questions without which, he says, the religion cannot develop and flourish. ‘There is nothing more irrelevant than an answer to a question nobody asks.’  
 
Rabbis of his acquaintance who have lost their belief in Judaism would like to reject it but do not do so out of fear of being ostracised. He alleges that often the religion is taught in ways that make it appear dull, oppressive, insipid and irrelevant. ‘Only through constant questioning and struggling can Judaism be shown in its best light.’
 
Of course, Rabbi Cardozo is correct; we should question and probe. I have been doing this for years. Unfortunately, I have found to my regret, there are few Rabbis who wish to become involved and answer. Apart from Rabbi Cardozo and one other Rabbi who happens to live in Jerusalem my questions are almost entirely ignored by the many Rabbis among my friends and acquaintances, although one or two have acknowledged them with the comment that my questions are difficult ones. I have often wondered why so many react so negatively and perhaps the answer is that given by Rabbi Cardozo above. There may be several other reasons for this lack of response but one can only guess. What does a Rabbi do as an alternative if he loses his faith, or he becomes bored or is generally unhappy in his job unless, of course, he is qualified in some other discipline?
 
The book takes the form of a discussion between Rabbi Cardozo and one of his pupils. I will now comment and raise some questions on some of the very many issues he raises.
 
Telephones. One of the first issues raised is whether the prohibition of using the telephone on Shabbat is a constraint. The Rabbi replies that it is not a constraint but a blessing because the phone is a constant infringement on his privacy. So it is, but that is not the reason for the prohibition. The reason is that answering the telephone, like putting on the radio, like switching on a light on Shabbat is considered a ‘Malachah’ (a constructive act) and ‘Malachah’ is prohibited on Shabbat. The benefit the Rabbi enjoys is just a by-product.
 
All of the afore mentioned activities are considered ‘Malachot’ but to what degree. There are now telephones whose use is permitted only because they become active some four seconds after one lifts the handset. Many of my Orthodox friends will not start their air conditioning on Shabbat but are quite happy adjusting the time mechanism so that the system begins or stops functioning say, fifteen minutes after the adjustment. I know of a well-respected Rabbi, a retired minister of an Orthodox united synagogue, (he started his ministry with the Adass,) who quite openly and unashamedly listens to classical music on the Shabbat because of the satisfaction it gives him. Is this too, ‘malachah? I would very much like to know his rational. He won’t say although he is knowledgeable and I am quite certain that he considers he is behaving within the Halachah. Has the time arrived when the Rabbis should redefine the term ‘Malachah’?
 
The conversion crisis. Rabbi Cardozo discusses this subject at length and explains why Orthodox Rabbis do not consider as valid those conversions carried out by the Conservative or Reform Movements. The arguments are well rehearsed but Rabbi Cardozo does not accept them at face value. He refers to a powerful counter argument presented by Rabbi Eliezer Berkovits in one of his essays which declares that the unity of the Jewish people is also of prime Halachic importance. He advocates that a compromise must be found to the problem which will keep the Jewish people united for otherwise we could end up as three or more disparate Jewish religions. I wonder how many Jews today could legitimately be considered as Jews if the criteria which the Rabbis today apply for those wishing to be converted had always been applied?
 
When one reads Jewish history for the period of the second temple we learn that on occasions we went out to our neighbours and forced them to convert to Judaism on pain of death. Also, when one reads the history of the Jews of North Africa, of about the same period, we learn of the Jews who arrived there because of the troubles in Judea and the destruction of the Second Temple. They and the Berbers, who were already there, mixed so well that many Berbers became Jews. History tells of similar developments in Arabia. There was also the mass conversion which took place among the people of Khazar, described in a book written by Judah Halevi. In none of these dramatic events do we read of a strict criterion for conversion such as that which is currently being applied by Jewish courts, particularly outside Israel, but the descendants of all these people are today accepted as authentic Jews.
 
In Talmudic times if a person wished to become Jewish, the Court would ask him/her why they wished to do so and if they were aware of the difficulties under which Jews lived. If they replied that they knew but, although unworthy of being a Jew, wished to convert nevertheless the person was accepted forthwith, circumcised if a male, immersed in a Mikvah and taught some of the minor and some of the major precepts. After the immersion they were considered Jews in every respect.
 
Do past circumstances which changed the criteria and made them stricter, need  again to be reconsidered in the light of the conversion crisis?
 
Teaching Torah to Women. Rabbi Cardozo tells that throughout our history, and in the main, teaching Torah and Talmud to women was considered improper or worse. It was not until the early part of the last century that a Rabbi known as the Chofetz Chaim ruled, in the face of strong opposition, that because of the changing social climate it was essential for women be properly educated in all Jewish subjects. Since then, and particularly in these latter years, there has been an explosion in the number of women attending seminaries which provide courses, at a high level, on all aspects of Judaism and the impact which these graduates are making is quite profound. Many things which were forbidden to them, even when I was a child, are now permitted. It appears to be a matter of the community leading its leaders.  ‘What it is crucial to realise is that if one would now invoke the original ruling, which stated that it is folly to teach Torah to women, it would be a violation of Halachah.’
 
Acher, the obedient child & ‘Lishma’ i.e. without expectation of reward. There are two commandments in the Torah which, if observed bring a promise ‘that your days will be long upon the land which the Lord gives you.’  The first commandment is to honour your parents and the second is to send away the mother bird before collecting its eggs from its nest.  A Rabbi by the name of Elisha ben Avuya was passing an orchard and overheard a father telling his son to collect eggs from a nest after sending away the mother bird. For fulfilling these two commandments the Rabbi considered that the boy deserved a long life but in fact he fell from the tree and died. The Rabbi shouted out ‘There is no God and no justice’ and considered that God had broken his promise and as a result left the religion. Rabbi Cardozo disagrees with his reaction and rationalises the tragedy. He explains that sometimes a person fulfils a commandment, for which God has not promised a reward, for its own sake (lishma). There are other cases where God does promise a reward and in those cases the promise will be kept. In the case of this child he  fulfilled the two commandments, perhaps, without the expectation of reward and therefore although he might have received it, unfortunately he didn’t. If I understand Rabbi Cardozo explanation correctly it is an unacceptable one. Let me put two similar scenarios in different settings.
 
A teacher is seeking to form a football team to represent his school. He announces that a practice match will be held the following day and invites interested pupils to turn up for selection. Only one boy turns up because he loves the game. The teacher is very disappointed and announces that whoever turns up for practice the following day will receive a free ticket to the cinema. 50 boys turn up and 49 are handed free tickets but not including the boy who turned up on the first day. The teacher explains to him that he did not receive the reward because he wanted to play, ‘lishma’, for its own sake.  I am unable to fathom the justice of this logic.
 
Many young Israeli boys are killed in battle. Some joined up because of patriotism, lishma, but others joined only because they respected their parent’s wishes and were persuaded by them to do so to avoid possible punishment. Is Rabbi Cardozo suggesting that of these two groups it is only those young soldiers who joined ‘lishma’ that were killed and those who joined because of their parent’s persuasion were not killed?
 
Pantheism.  Rabbi Cardozo discusses the nature of God and God’s relationship to Nature. Of the several theories he submits one originated from Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liady who suggested that ‘God can be found in a drop of water’. I first read of the Rebbe’s theory in the Tanya (I think Ch. 4) many years ago and was appalled. Till then I believed that God created Matter and from this Matter objects were crafted and held together by a cohesive force which God had also created i.e. the force which holds atoms together. The Rebbe’s theory is that the cohesive force is He and if He were to withdraw Himself the objects would fall apart. ‘God is in a drop of water’ or indeed in any other object. If one were to take this theory to its logical conclusion why should one pray to an invisible God. All one need do is to pick up a cup or a pen or any other object, in which the Rebbe believed that God is present, and pray to it, for one is holding God in the palm of one’s hand. I also understand that it was the energy that was released by the splitting of the atom which caused havoc when the bomb was dropped. By the Rebbe’s theory it must have been God who did the damage for it was He that was released. Please excuse the simplicity of my language but I do not know the appropriate technical terminology.
 
Rabbi Cardozo also reports on, among other topics, a discussion in the Talmud where the Rabbis hold us partly responsible for creating anti-Semitism; a discussion on ‘Land for Peace’ in Israel; religious coercion, all in a most unexpected manner. In support of his opinions he also calls on the thoughts of persons other than Jews, something which is currently frowned upon in orthodox circles. Kol Ha’kovod!  
 April 2001