Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
Bound with
Unseverable Bonds:
The Orthodox Jew and the
Jewish Community
Barry Shrage
[יז] וַה׳ ָאמָר ַה ְמ ַכּסֶה ֲאנִי מֵַאב ְָרהָם ֲאׁשֶר ֲאנִי עׂ۬שֶה׃ [יח] וְַאב ְָרהָם הָיֹו י ִ ְהי ֶה לְגֹוי ּגָדֹול
ָָארץ׃ [יט] ּכִי י ְדַ עְּתִ יו ְל ַמעַן ֲאׁשֶר י ְ ַצּוֶה אֶת־ ָּבנָיו ְואֶת־ּבֵיתֹו ֶ ְועָצּום ְונִב ְְרכּו־בֹו ּכ۠ל ּגֹוי ֵי ה
ׁשּפָט ְל ַמעַן ָהבִיא ה׳ עַל־ַאב ְָרהָם אֵת ֲאׁשֶר־ּדִ ּבֶר ְ ׁשמְרּו ּדֶ ֶרְך ה׳ ַלעֲׂשֹות צְדָ קָה ּו ִמ ָ ַאח ֲָריו ְו
) פרק יח,ָעלָיו׃(ספר בראשית
A Jew who has lost his faith in Knesset Yisroel even though he may
personally sanctify and purify himself by being strict in his observance
of the precepts and by assuming prohibitions upon himself—such a
Jew is incorrigible and totally unfit to join in the Day of Atonement
which encompasses the whole of Knesset Yisroel. . . . Only the Jew who
believes in Knesset Yisroel may partake of the sanctity of the day and
the acquittal granted to him as part of the community of Israel. The
Jew who believes in Knesset Yisroel is the Jew who lives as part of it,
wherever it is, and is willing to give his life for it, feel its pain, rejoice
with it, fight in its wars, groan at its defeats and celebrate its victories.
The Jew who believes in Knesset Yisroel is a Jew who binds himself
with unseverable bonds, not only to the people of Israel of his own
generation but the community of Israel throughout the ages.
—Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik,
Man of Faith in the Modern World, Abraham R. Besdin, KTAV, Page 73.
Who are we? Why are we here? What does God expect of us? . . . As
Orthodox Jews? As Jews? As human beings? As children of Abraham
and Sarah?
I have spent most of my life working for the Jewish people and
hoping that my work in some small way advances God’s work in the
world, His dream of redemption, the law He has given, the ancient
culture and civilization He inspires, and the importance of cultivating
a Jewish voice in (as Rabbi Jonathan Sacks puts it) the “conversation
nity in Boston has contributed greatly to this effort and largely shares
the greater vision that drives our community.
And yet this session raises critical if unspoken questions. What is
the responsibility of Orthodox Jews to fellow Orthodox Jews, to fellow
Jews, to humankind? How should we fulfill that responsibility? Alone?
In consultation with others? As part of a broader Jewish community?
On the surface the questions are straightforward:
To what extent is the Orthodox community involved in broader
Jewish communal philanthropy? Given the significant needs within
the Orthodox community, should it be more so? How has the relation-
ship between the Orthodox community and the Federations changed,
and is the change for the better or worse?
But the answer to this question depends on how we define the
“Orthodox community” to which we are presumed to owe a higher (or
even an exclusive) commitment. And it also depends on how we assess
the noneconomic costs of separating ourselves from the larger com-
munity of Jews and the even larger world of God’s creation.
Do I have a higher responsibility to preserve Orthodox solidar-
ity or Jewish solidarity? Is there truly a community of Orthodox Jews
to which I belong and to which I must give first loyalty, or are there
many competing Orthodox Jewries as different from one another as
Orthodoxy is from Reform Judaism? Who decides which Orthodoxy
we should be loyal to? Which rabbis will teach our children? Which
Roshei Yeshiva will teach the rabbis who will teach the teachers of our
children?
These are the questions that should be consuming us right now.
The non-Orthodox world is struggling to define itself. Birthright Israel
is bringing tens of thousands closer to Torah and to Ahavat Yisroel.
Jewish learning and practice are growing at the grassroots of the Jewish
community as new generations seek meaning and purpose and com-
munity. In all of these pursuits the Orthodox community has much to
give. Not in money so much as in learning and spirit. But what is our
learning? What is our Torah? What is our spirit? The non-Orthodox
community is struggling to define itself, but who are we?
Let me be clear. I’m not judging the Orthodox community as a
Federation executive or as a Jew. All Jews are entitled to the love and
But I do care (very much) “whether and to what extent the Or-
thodox community” is “involved in broader Jewish communal philan-
thropy” and whether it should be more or less, “given the significant
needs within the Orthodox community.” And here I have a larger ques-
tion: Is our greater loyalty, as Orthodox Jews, to the Orthodox com-
munity or to the Jewish community? And if to the Orthodox com-
munity, to what part of the Orthodox community? Or perhaps even
more broadly, do we have a greater responsibility to preserve Jewish
solidarity or Orthodox solidarity?
The real issue, the issue that should absorb us, has little to do
with a statistical analysis of Orthodox giving to Federations or to non-
Orthodox charities. The real issue, acknowledged by most experts and
observers of the Orthodox world, is an intensifying process through
which many parts of the Orthodox community, Haredi and even non-
Haredi, are increasingly turning away from other Jews and from a
world they view as increasingly dangerous and corrupt.
Rav Lichtenstein puts the danger clearly in the paper he pre-
pared for this conference:
Rabbi Isadore and Dr. Atara Twersky gave a gift to CJP every
year, even before I came to town (when CJP was much less inclined
toward their [and my] goals). Rabbi and Dr. Twersky were invariably
kind to me, sympathetic to my work and sensitive to the pressures
faced by an Orthodox Federation director. Rabbi Twersky advised me
to support day school education of every kind regardless of denomina-
tion. There is of course no doubt that he wished all Jews to follow an
Orthodox path, but since that was clearly impossible, the intensifica-
tion of Jewish education for all Jews was clearly his goal, a goal he artic-
ulated and worked for, in Boston and nationally, through the Council
of Jewish Federations, the Mandel-sponsored Commission on Jewish
Israel for our children or institutions to support. After all, “the more
Orthodox the better” is difficult to define and painfully forces us to ask
the most fundamental question: How would God define the commit-
ment He demands of us as Orthodox Jews? Do Orthodox institutions
that separate us from our brothers and sisters, or treat non-Jews as
less than fully human, deserve our support more than Federations or
other organizations that promote Ahavas Yisroel and respect for God’s
creation along with a deep commitment to Jewish learning.
This is not a simple question, for while the halachah that guides
the lives of all Orthodox Jews provides (relatively!) straightforward
answers to questions of Shabbat observance, Kashrut, or appropriate
prayer, it provides less clear or even hotly disputed advice on questions
such as our responsibility to work for a living and respect the secular
laws of the countries in which we live, the appropriateness and value of
“secular” learning, the appropriateness of women or converts(!) serv-
ing as presidents of Orthodox synagogues, the future status of Judea
and Samaria, the religious significance of advising young Orthodox
Israelis (and American Jews considering service in the Israeli army)
to disobey orders to dismantle settlements in Judea or Samaria, or to
justify the murder of an Israeli prime minister as some did before and
after the assassination of Prime Minister Rabin.
Recently the National Council of Young Israel declared that
neither women nor converts could serve as president in Young Israel
synagogues. This reflects a growing isolationism and aversion to con-
version of any kind within the Orthodox community that was also re-
vealed several months ago in Israel’s “conversion controversy.”
In a recent lecture Rabbi Avraham Sherman, a judge on the High
Rabbinical Court in Israel, defended the invalidation of the conversion
of tens of thousands of Jews by pointing out, according to a report in
the Jerusalem Post, that:
What this frank statement reveals is that there are indeed two
legitimate perspectives within the tradition on conversion, and that
historically the “open” position has taken precedence. Most of us be-
lieve that it is forbidden to embarrass the convert in any way, or even to
mention his/her origin. The Rambam reminds us that the convert is to
be considered as a child of Abraham himself!2 So we do have a choice,
and in matters such as this we are individually challenged to determine
the difference between right and wrong and what God requires of us.
Differentiating right and wrong also requires us to differentiate among
organizations deserving our support, because in distinguishing among
institutions we decide what kind of Orthodox community we want to
create and the nature of the Orthodox world our children will inherit.
In 1862 Abraham Lincoln wrote: “In great contests, each party
claims to act in accordance with the will of God. Both may be, and one
must be wrong. God cannot be for and against the same thing at the
same time.”3
God cannot believe that decisions about Judea and Samaria
should be made by generals and not rabbis (as some Orthodox author-
ities have suggested) and also believe that the decisions should be made
by rabbis alone with a level of authority that allows them to threaten
the prime minister’s life and endanger the discipline of the IDF and
therefore the security of the Jewish State.
God cannot wish us to love and honor the convert and at the
same time publicly recall his conversion and bar him from a place of
honor in the synagogue. So, which side is God on with regard to some
of the larger issues of our Jewish lives? Obviously I do not have the
answers, nor can I pretend to know the mind of God, and yet I believe
that the question matters very much and that I am required as an Or-
thodox Jew to choose and to treat the answers to these questions as
religious questions . . . no less than questions about Kashrut or Shab-
bat. If the question about the relative priority of Orthodox causes is
to have any religious meaning, the answer must be determinative of
which Orthodox organizations are actually deserving of greater per-
sonal support than non-Orthodox organizations.
There are Orthodox Jews with whom I can pray, eat,and cele-
brate Shabbat, but about whom I must say, “If they are Orthodox I am
not, and if I am Orthodox they are not!” Our worldviews are so dif-
ferent that while we belong to the same community of fate, we cannot
possibly belong to the same community of faith.
I would not provide any funds to any Orthodoxy that isolates us
from our fellow Jews, or inspires religious hatred or even the kind of
religious murder that cost us the life of Yitzchak Rabin or that rejects
our responsibility for the well-being of humankind. In the twenty-first
century, we choose our religious leadership and the kind of religious
community we choose to create. The Orthodox community, though
bound to a halachic life, still has powerfully important choices among
competing religious/halachic views that have radically different impli-
cations for our people and our world.
Finally the question of religious commitment, religious leader-
ship, and even religious violence is also connected to the Orthodox
community’s relationship with or separation from non-Orthodox
Jews, non-Orthodox charities and Federations. After September 11,
2001, Rabbi Doniel Hartman suggested three religious failings that
can overcome the beauty at the heart of the religious idea and turn it
poisonous and dangerous.
The first is the belief that we can know and control the process
and the timing of the ultimate redemption, for who could resist any
crime that might bring the ultimate redemption to all humankind.
The second is the idolatry of certainty that erases the boundary
between man and God. The idea that we can know God’s truth well
enough to kill another in His name is spiritual intoxication, and it is
very dangerous.
“Pass on before the people and take with you some of the
elders of Israel and take in your hand the rod with which
you struck the Nile and go. And strike the rock and water
shall come out of it that the people may drink.”
—Shemot 7:4–5
NOTES
This essay is dedicated to the memory of my parents, Nathan Shrage, Nechemiah ben
Eliezer, and Sara Shrage, Sarah bat Aharon. Their love of Judaism and dedication to
tolerance and justice inform this essay and my life.
1. On Repentance: The Thoughts and Oral discourses of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik,
Pinchas H. Peli, Paulist Press, Page 125.
2. A Maimonides Reader, “Letter to Obadiah the Proselyte,” Isadore Twersky, Beh-
rman, Page 475.
3. Lincoln’s Greatest Speech: The Second Inaugural, “Appendix III-Abraham Lincoln:
Meditation on the Divine Will,” Ronald C. White Jr., See teachingamericanhis-
tory.org/library/indeex.asp?document=1090.
4. Studies in Shemot, “Midrash Tanhumah Beshallah,” Nechamah Liebowitz, World
Zionist Association, Page 279.