Showing posts with label Modern Orthodox. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Modern Orthodox. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Lacanian psychoanalysis of Chabad and Modern Orthodox Judaism


(Slavoj Žižek, post-modernist troublemaker)

I am going to try to analyze Chabad and Modern Orthodoxy using the psychoanalytic approach of Lacanian triad: 'the imaginary, the symbolic, and the real' (I'll explain below).

I want to do this because I have for a long time thought about the dichotomy of the 'real' and the 'imaginary' in the MO world. In addition, recently, I have read Iraq: the Borrowed Kettle by Slavoj Žižek (pronounced as 'Slah-voy Zhih-zhek'), a Marxist philosopher-psychoanalyst. I obviously disagree with many of Žižek's ideas and conclusions about capitalism and the Western world, but I find his analytic methodology entertaining. (So, keep this in mind as you read the bits of this post about the Iraqi war. What matters is not the contents, but the analysis.)

In Iraq, Žižek analyzed the motivations for the 2003 invasion of Iraq using Lacanian psychoanalytic triad:

1. The imaginary: the purpose of the war was to spread the ideals and the benefits of the Western democracy. This was the official propaganda line fed to the masses in order to garner their support.

2. The symbolic: the purpose of the war was to spread American political hegemony. This level is called symbolic because the invasion of Iraq really served a 'symbolic' purpose in the international diplomatic stance of the USA: it strengthened its roles as the international policeman and 'paved the way' for the possibility and acceptability of now starting the war on the 'imaginary' grounds, without support of the UN, and in a form of preemptive strikes.

3. The real reason for the invasion, according to Žižek, was economic control over Iraqi oil and, more generally, strengthening of US dollar against the euro. (Perhaps one can tie in the Keynesian motive for mythical 'stimulus' of the economy through defense spending.) This is classical of Žižekian analysis of political events: he envisions a nation-state, a government, or a culture (e.g., the USA) as an individual, and applies to it Freudian and Lacanian psychoanalysis, showing that (in his opinion) the sub-conscious drive is the real one.

Now, let me say at once that I do not necessarily agree with the above analysis of Iraqi war. Or, rather, I neither agree nor disagree. It is certainly the case that the invasion has failed on all three accounts: it did not help with spreading of democracy, either in the region or in the world; it has ruined US political image and led to diplomatic and military backlash, and it had an adverse effect on US economy on multiple levels, including, in the long-term, the current Great Recession. Of course, that doesn't mean that Zizek is wrong in his analysis of motivations.

As Kelsey Wood notes in Žižek: A Reader's Guide:
Žižek is careful to point out that in this Lacanian triad of imaginary-symbolic-real, each of these three levels has some degree of autonomy, and none of the is simply a mere semblance (Iraq, p.4). For example, ideological fantasy produces effects in people's behavior, and has an impact on people's lives. This indicates how fantasy is constitutive of symbolic reality. But again, with regard to the triad of imaginary-symbolic-real, 'it is not that one is the "truth" of the others; the "truth" is, rather, the very shift of perspective between them' (Iraq, p.6).
Again, I do not care whether or not Zizek's analysis is true. I care about using this method to analyse both MO and Chabad branches of 'frum' Judaism.

Let me start with Chabad, using davening as an example (I am crediting my wife for giving me this idea):

1. The imaginary: on this level, we look at davening through 'general' Orthodox Judaism. I.e., all the halachos of davening, the nusach, what davening consists of (the parts of davening), the zmanim, etc. Also, the purpose of davening as interpreted by Alter Rebbe: connection to Hashem.

The 'imaginary' level can also be termed 'ideal' or 'formal'. In a chess game, the 'imaginary' dimension of a chess piece is the rules by which it moves. A synonymous expression for 'imaginary' is 'make-belief', and that applies to the religious application of the Lacanian triad: the 'imaginary' aspect is not something that is not real (G-d forbid), but it is something one must believe in, or at least it's not something accessible to one's immediate experience; it is both a foundation and a goal, both of which must exist on the level of emunah-like commitment (you can read here more about the distinction between emunah and da'as).

2. The symbolic: when looked at through Chabad Chassidus, davening is not simply carrying out of the halachic obligation, but a path of self-development, literally an avoida ('service'). Again, I am using the 'symbolic' as merely Lacanian jargon. In an abstract sense, the act of prayer itself (i.e., what is literally a supplication) is a 'symbol' (an excuse, if you wish) for improving oneself and establishing a relationship with Hashem.

For that purpose, one must daven at length, with great concentration (oftentimes outside of the minyan), and, most significantly, one must learn Chassidus before davening, so that one can be hisboinen (contemplative, meditative) of the learned concepts (comprising either haskallah, the intellectual concepts, or avoida, the concepts of self-service, of Chassidus, or both). This has effect on the interpretation of Halacha (the first level), since, to fulfill the 'symbolic' aspect of davening, we must be lax with the zmanim, allow eating before davening, etc.

3. The real. In reality, you can find Shachris minyanim in 770 going on until almost after shkiah. Not because some chassidim use this much time to learn Chassidus, but because davening late has become a 'reality' of Chabad culture, independently of its 'imaginary' and 'symbolic' counterparts. The same goes for eating before davening (sometimes eating a quite substantial meal), etc.

Don't get me wrong: I am not saying that this is what happens to most Lubavitchers. (In fact, I don't really know what the numbers are.) I am just saying that this phenomenon (almost unique to Chabad) exists, and that's what its nature is.

Of course, it is also true that davening has become a completely different experience ('reality') in Chabad circles, both for the newcomers and the 'balabatim'. Many people would describe davening at Chabad as a richer, deeper, more vibrant experience, albeit annoying to the Jews belonging to other branches of Orthodox Judaism, whose 'imaginary' and 'symbolic' (and, as a result, 'real') expectations of davening are somewhat different.

The same analysis can be applied to many other aspects of modern Chabad 'culture', both in terms of shlichus and the 'Crown Heights' velt. I think it can also be used in a positive sense. For example: a person is stopped on the street and asked to shake lulav and esrog:

1. The imaginary: the person does the mitzva of lulav and esrog, the formal obligation he has to G-d. G-d's Will is carried out in this world.

2. The symbolic: the act of doing the mitzva connects to the essence of his neshama, revealing it (potentially). The act of doing the mitzva is important not because of its dry obligatory context, but because of what it accomplishes: the unification of G-d with this world through the act of mitzva and the subsequent creation of dira b'tachtoinim (the dwelling place of G-d in the lower worlds). I.e., the mitzva is not just a dry fulfillment of a contract, but a vehicle (a 'symbol') for the essential purpose of creation and revelation.

3. The real: it is possible that the person will become interested in Yiddishkeit and inquire about it (and, perhaps, about Chabad specifically) and this simple encounter will bring him 'back' (or, at least, closer) to frumkeit. In this, the circle of the purpose of mivtzoim is closed.



Now, let's use the same analysis in application to Modern Orthodoxy:

1. The imaginary: MO views itself as Orthodox Judaism. In fact, it does not view itself as a 'b'dieved Judaism', i.e., Judaism of a compromise. According to the MO philosophy, its path of Yiddishkeit is preferred. Torah is given to be lived, in this world. (Note that this is not the same as the Chabad concept of engaging 'der velt' in order to make dira b'tachtonim. For Chabad, 'der velt' is the goal. For MO, it's simply the status quo. When a Lubavitcher gets a job, he is being an idealist, at least as far as Chabad Chassidus is concerned. When a MO Jew gets a job, he is being a realist.)

Likewise, Torah is given to real human beings, with real desires and everyday circumstances; it was not given to the angels.

2. The symbolic: In order to accomplish the goal making Torah accessible to the modern mentality of the 'real, everyday' Jew living in the Western world in modern times, one must unite Torah with 'modernity'. Because this contemporary Jew is the one commanded with both performance of the mitzvos and learning of Torah, we must be able to interpret the meaning of the former and the content of the latter from today's, modern, perspective.

From here comes the MO view of Judaism. Mitzvos are patterns of behavior that bind us together in a Jewish community. Torah is G-d's revelation of His message of how to live a fulfilling and successful life in everyday world. The 'realism' of the mitzvos and of Torah is pushed to the shadows. It doesn't matter whether the world was created in Six Days, 5773 years ago. What matters is the message of the story to us, today. It doesn't matter whether I accomplish 'objectively' anything when I shake lulav and esrog. What matters is that that I feel and 'experience' something when I do it, that I focus on the symbolism of the act, in its historical and (constantly reinterpreted) everyday context.

3. The real: Having their significance reduced to merely symbolic context, mitzvos and Torah stop being religious phenomena and start being social ones. They are no longer an aspect of the Jew's (or the community's) relationship with G-d; they are an aspect of the Jew's relationship with other Jews and a way for him to see his own culture and self-identity on the national and international scale.

When a Chabad rabbi speaks before Musaf, he talks about avoidas Hashem and da'as Hashem. He uses some aspect of the parsha or the Yom Tov as an illustration of what our relationship with G-d must be, or how we can understand G-dliness -- G-d's revelation of Himself in the worlds, the purpose and design of His creation, etc.

When a MO rabbi speaks before Musaf, he talks about Israeli politics, using a symbolic interpretation of an aspect of the parsha (reduced almost to an anecdote). Or, perhaps, he talks about how we must approach our everyday work environment or a project: the parsha can teach us about successful interpersonal relationships or work ethic and give us peace of mind.

The interpretation of the mitzvos also suffers from the symbolic approach. Because hair covering is looked at from the symbolic point of view, not either strictly legal (as a Litvish Jew might look at it) or 'realistic' -- i.e., having a real, objective purpose outside of one's perception (a Chabad Jew's perspective), it is only important insofar as it binds a Jewish woman to a particular community of hair-covering women, or if it adds anything to her personal experience. Otherwise, it is discarded.

The same goes for many other mitzvos. The tendency of make Torah 'livable', armed with always-ready ability to assign a symbolic interpretation to a mitzva, allows one to be as meichel as one possibly can (or as Rav Moishe allows), and then perhaps some more.

In reality, therefore, MO Judaism is 'Orthodox' in name only. In practice, both its theoretical view of Judaism and its practical observance is almost closer to Conservative Judaism, from which, after all, it has evolved (as one MO rabbi said, a bit tongue-in-cheek, 'if the Hareidim build mechitza up to the ceiling, and the Conservative don't have a mechitza at all, the Modern Orthodox mechitza will be exactly half-way').


I don't know what my conclusion might be. Writing of this post was mostly self-therapeutic in nature and perhaps may be of some help to those whose encounters with MO Judaism (or Chabad, for that matter) were frustrating.

Next project: psychoanalysis of the 'yechi' culture. Just kidding!..

Monday, April 12, 2010

Where does it say that in Halacha?

For yet another time I am re-posting the quote below.

The context (this time) is a statement on one of the blogs that a solution to the “shidduch crisis” is to pull down mechitza — figuratively and literally, except in the cases explicitly mandated by Halacha (i.e., davening). The author of the opinion says, for example, that mehadrin buses in Eretz Yisroel which separate men and women are counter-productive to healthy opportunities for young singles to meet. To my surprised response: “Do you want the singles to meet on a bus?”, the author responded along the lines of: “What’s the problem?” (Note that I am not endorsing the mehadrin buses themselves or the behavior of chareidim on them. That’s a separate issue.)

To me, the answer (of what the problem is) is rather clear from multiple perspectives. I consulted with my rabbis to make sure I am not nuts, and they confirmed that at least in this issue I seem to be within boundaries of reason. I.e., that it is certainly an authentic value in Judaism that tznius goes beyond a skirt length, and that separation between genders goes beyond davening. There are very clear reasons for this that are, moreover, very rational.

My point right now is not to discuss the issue of tznius and solutions to shidduch crisis. I wanted to express my opinion that stripping Judaism to the bare bones of Halacha is, in and of itself, past nisht. (More on the topic here.) Now the excerpt from the post on Circus Tent:
Today in the US we have a whole range of people under 60, American born, whose knowledge of Judaism is based exclusively on books, and those books are the Shulchan Aruch and Gemora. Most of these people had parents who I am sure were fine people but left behind the emotional attachment to echte Yiddishkayt in Europe. Here they belonged to Young Israel synagogues and became very acculturated and lost that special hergesh. In America, Judaism was reduced to learning and doing mitzvos by rote. These people include most MO Jews, the so-called Yeshiva community, and even some “Amerikane Chasidim”.

On the other side we have people whose view of Judaism was shaped by seeing how their parents acted, felt, laughed, cried, talked and walked. These people tended to have a genuine Mesorah. They saw Judaism as more than just book learning, and the book learning included Midrash, Chassidus, Sifrei Mussar, vechulu. This people tend to be Chassidic and a few Misnagdim who come from European homes. And in the background of all of this loomed the Holocaust, not Coney Island! To the first category Rabbonim are “machinove”, automated people who act in a mathematical way, and have no emotions.
The second category knows that Judaism is more than the dry letter of the law.
Even though it is not the main topic of my post, my rabbi points out that the so-called “shidduch crisis” seems to be affecting the groups listed in the first, not the second paragraph (the ones whose mechitza is barely there as it is).

Update: the point of my quoting the above passage is not to compare the two types of communities, but to compare the two approaches to Torah.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

The world is watching

Very good post about chillul Hashem. I wish I was as holy as the Rebbe’s melamed in cheider to walk our whenever something bad was spoken about other Jews. But I’ve seen the effects of chillul Hashem firsthand — it affected me, my friends (and former friends), and my family.

I have already expressed my frustration on the subject. Long gone are the times when Frierdiker Rebbe wrote in a letter that for a talmid chochom it is inappropriate to walk on the street, eating sunflower seeds. Today everyone dresses in a suit and wears a hat, since — hey, we are Jews! We are not supposed to dress casually, like goyim. And yet we find, strangely enough, that the people who dress in jeans and are lenient on half their mitzvos behave like mentchen, while those that are not eating strawberries for kashrus concerns and make sure their cereal is pas Yisroel behave like beheimas.

Be machmir on gebrochts in you behavior first. You are here to make the world G-dly.

(And, as anyone reading my blog can see, I am all for chumras and hiddurim. One of the comments on that post said something like: “Ironically, one of these people would look at MO woman in pants and think: ‘What a shame!’” Well, it is ironic. He should be looking at himself first. But the fact that this woman is wearing pants is a shame.)

Monday, March 8, 2010

Frierdiker Rebbe on “Modern” Judaism

Founders of the German communities, see what fruit has grown from the tree you have planted. You killed all positive feelings; you caught them like fish in a net. You squeezed out any juice. You exchanged the honor of Torah—of Jewish wisdom—for the games and idols of the non-Jews. The soul of G–d has been ripped from them. Who has wrought this shame? Was it not done in the name of the Torah, stirred together with alien thoughts? Who asked you to do this? What spurred you to do this? It was only the thirst for secular sciences, the wisdom of Jepheth, which has now completely consumed the Torah of Shem.
— Frierdiker Rebbe

It’s very interesting to me that if one reads Mendelsohn’s writings (sometimes quoted in Hirsch Chumash), one doesn’t see anything too problematic. Most of the times he sounds a bit MO; oftentimes, of all the sources quoted (in that particular instance, Ramchal and a few contemporary Jewish philosophers), his thoughts are the most chassidish ones (e.g., he says that fulfillment of a mitzva is more important than understanding of it — yep, the same Mendelsohn).

An exerpt from the letter by the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe about him and the long-reaching effects of his on German Judaism. As always, both the content and the form are amazing.

The point of the letter is relevant to today’s American Jewry as never before. Don’t tell me that the imagery that the above quote paints is not familiar to you. One doesn’t have to use labels to feel it.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

AC vs. DC



There is a difference between bringing Torah down to people and bringing people up to Torah.

There is a difference between making Judaism modern and making everyday life Jewish.

There is a difference between conquest and assimilation.

It’s the difference between being a moderate and being a libertarian. In one case there is a compromise. In the other — maximization.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

It makes me uncomfortable

Let’s imagine a scenario. Someone comes to a representative of a group X and tells him, all of a sudden: “Something that X does makes me uncomfortable.” For instance, someone comes to a Chabad shliach and tells him: “The fact that in Chabad Houses rabbis quote the Rebbe all the time makes me uncomfortable.” Or, someone comes to a biologist and says: “The fact that in biology labs scientists kill animals all the time makes me uncomfortable.”

Now, this is not done with malice, in a rude form, or anything like that. That’s not what bothers me. I am just slightly confused: what is this person's purpose in sharing his feelings? It’s not like he is answering a question, for instance, “Why do you never come to Chabad shulls?” It’s not like he made a statement about something specific that he things is wrong that one could address. (“Killing animals is wrong, because...”) He just shared his feelings. What is one supposed to do with that? Hold his hand? Do a psychoanalysis session looking into his past for the reasons of this feeling? Prescribe a medication?

I know. He is he looking for a discount for the next time he visits a Chabad House (or a biology lab). No?

Should I, perhaps, present the problem in such a way that will make all his worries go away?

Ah. That’s what it is. So, he wants us to play a game of the “shrink’s office”. After I, perhaps, alleviate his problems, he will in turn alleviate mine: “The fact that some strings on your tzitzis are blue makes me uncomfortable.”

Thursday, November 26, 2009

They will not see me

A repost with the nasty parts taken out after being called a hater for including them l’hatchillo.

***
Recently, I heard a question: “What do you think is the biggest problem with Judaism today?” One of the answers was: “That in recent times [last few centuries], Judaism has become much more chumra-oriented than before.”

I have no idea what my opinion is on what he said. Yes, maybe, he is right that this is the trend. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it just appropriate? I have no idea. Certainly, to me there seems to be a problem in approaching everything in Judaism and our lives from chumra perspective. Certainly, to me there seems to be a (possibly even bigger) problem in doing whatever you want in life, and then making sure, b’dieved, that you haven’t violated Halacha. If barely...

I was listening to something today, however, which made me think about this question. Rabbi Paltiel was discussing in a shiur (third one) on the ma’amor “V’yishlach” (from hemshech Samech Vov) the idea of getting to Atzmus Eloikus, the Essence of G-dliness. Why, he said, can we not get to it? Because we are trying too hard. Every time we are trying to get somewhere or get something, we are only able to grasp some level of gilui, revelation. Atzmus cannot be b’gilui. Essence cannot be revealed. So, the harder you try, the more elusive it becomes. You will get to some level of G-dliness through a positive effort, but not the Essence.

So, how can you get to it? Through mitzvos loi ta’aseh, negative commandements forbidding us to do certain things. Because by following them, one is not actively doing something, reaching somewhere, but in fact he is just staying away from something. But — for the purpose of Hashem. (This, says, Rabbi Paltiel, is the difference between a Jew not trying to get to G-d and a sinner, or a cow, not trying to get to G-d.)

As an illustration of the idea, Rabbi Paltiel tells a story. After the passing of the Rebbetzin Nechama Dina, the Rebbe’s brother-in-law, Rashag, wanted the Rebbe to have a seider together with him. The Rebbe answered: “On Peisach I sit by myself.” So, Rashag asked him again several times and then sent a shliach: a chossid of the Rebbe, Rabbi Simson, who was older both than the Rebbe and the Rashag, and was a deep person. Rabbi Simson could not say “no” to Rashag, but could not ask the Rebbe to do something that the Rebbe didn’t want to do. So, he walked in into the Rebbe’s office, stood there without saying anything, and walked out.

Later, at the end of Adar, Rashag asked the Rebbe again about his plans for the seider. The Rebbe answered: “As I said, on Peisach I sit alone.” Rashag asked him if he talked to Rabbi Simpson. The Rebbe answered: “Yeah. He was here and stood silently. And his silence spoke.”

The other story is about something that happened to a very holy and deep Jew during the War of Independence in Israel. There were snipers everywhere, and it was impossible to go out. There was no food, and the man said he would go out to get the bread for his little daughter. His wife said: “You can’t go. They will shoot you.” The Jew answered: “I will go. I will not see them; they will not see me.” He went, got the bread and came back. How? Was he invisible? No, if a camera took a picture of the street, it would capture the man’s image. It’s just that he didn’t care about the world, and he made the world not care about him.

Hashem is not hiding. He is just not seen. Because we keep looking. But when a Jew does a mitzva loi ta’seh, he does something for Eibeshter, but he is not looking for Him. And thereby he reaches Hashem’s Essence.

* * *

This all reminded me, lehavdil, of this master class, in which András Schiff says: “Silence is the most beautiful thing in music.” Which is reminiscent of, lehavdil, the message of the later chapters of Alter Rebbe’s Sha’ar HaYichud ve’ha’Emunoh (second book of Tanya), in which he explains that concealment of G-dly Light comes as much from G-d as the revelation of the Light. In fact, when the G-d reveals His Light, that’s not a big deal. That’s status quo. C’est normal, as the French say. When G-d conceals the Light — now, that’s a sign that takeh der Eibeshter is involved. Which is a very encouraging idea for us, when in our lives something negative happens, G-d forbid.



My pianist friend says: when some musicians play, silence is the most beautiful part of their music... :)

Thursday, February 19, 2009

A parable about geometric figures

A triangle and a circle were arguing what the leading geometric figure of the future will be.

They agreed that triangle has advantages, but so does the circle. One problem is: although superficially more attractive, the triangle is less stable. On the other hand, circle is, well, way too round. So, it was agreed that even though the circle will lose its current fundamentalism and become somewhat of an oval, the triangle will certainly not survive, at least in its current shape (no pun intended… I think).

Now, a complex 11-dimensional figure which was sitting nearby, overhearing the conversation, mumbled something like: “Don’t you guys realize that you both are flat and two-dimensional? I mean, three hundred years ago, such a conversation would be somewhat interesting, but today it’s just silly. No matter which one of you survives and in what shape, you will still remain flat.”

The two figures heard that and said: “This is why nobody likes you. You don’t even think of other geometric figures as geometric figures.”

The complex 11-dimensional figure responded: “Of course I do. I just think you lack some depth. (And maybe some more dimensions.)”

But, it was too late. The other two figures left to tell their friends of yet another example of a hating complex 11-dimensional figure.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Being a proper person — yes or no?

http://www.silver-box.ru/UserFiles/Image/proba/img006aa.jpg
Once, the Alter Rebbe was given a silver tobacco box as a gift. Being a non-smoker, he used the cover of the box as a mirror to straighten his tefillin during prayer. A chossid relating the story said, “The Alter Rebbe broke the silver box and used its cover…”. Upon hearing this, Tzemach Tzedek corrected the Chossid, saying, “My grandfather never broke anything. He must have released the springs of the box, thus freeing its cover.”
First, the terms:

By “proper Jew” I mean somebody fully devoted in his life to service of G-d. There is only G-d, and my purpose in life is to connect to Him, to serve Him, to fulfill the essential reason why He created me and this world.

By “proper person” I mean a proper human being from Greek perspective — as far as intellectual awareness of the world is concerned (not in other… departments). A person fully implementing his potential as a human being. If you don’t like the term, use whatever term want. Use “proper iguana” for all I care.

Now, then. A Jew can ask the following questions in his life:

1. How can I be the proper Jew?
2. How can I be the proper person?
3. Will being the proper Jew help me be the proper person? If so, how?
4. Will being the proper person help me be the proper Jew? If so, how?

The first question is a question of an Orthodox Jew. The second question is a question of a secular Jew from intelligentsia family. The third question is a question of a Modern Orthodox.

The fourth question is a question of a pseudo-chassidic ba’al teshuva with baggage.

Can we utilize our knowledge of the world in our service of G-d? Bediyeved — seemingly so. What about lehatchilo? Can we do ishapcha to the goyishe Universe?

(I don’t mean just atoms and electrons. I mean a lot more. Lib… I can’t believe I am writing this. Liber… OK, deep breath, here goes: Liberalartsandsciences.)

* * *

Thoughts out loud… Yes, I have read Ch. 8 of Tanya. Yes, I probably just can’t let go of the baggage. I don’t need a shrink to tell me that. That doesn’t mean the question is not valid.

(This was probably a sniff-box, used for sniffing tobacco.)

* * *

Thanks to Rationally Pious for making me think about this.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Lincoln Square vs. Chabad seminary


(source)

Very nice post (although I do not agree with its conclusion fully) on Dixie Yid blog. The author of the post (I am not sure if it’s the Dixie Yid or a guest poster) talks about the difference between Modern Orthodox approach to attracting ba’alei teshuva (by focusing on the benefits in this world that one can reap from learning Torah) and the more “right-wing” approach of Chabad of explaining how one directly connects to G-d (and fulfills the essense of one’s existence) through Torah and mitzvos.

Although the author is more attracted to the second technique, there is a third option: of using the first approach initially (to fool one’s animal soul — as in the famous story when the horses driving a carriage were going fast because they wanted to get quickly to a warm place and food, and the sages in the carriage wanted to go fast because they needed to get to a place of learning) and then proceeding to the second approach of learning how Torah connects a Jew to G-d.

I disagree with this “compromise” (you can read my opinion in the comments), although I do admit that initially one needs to learn Torah on his “level”. We encounter the same idea in “Shuva Yisroel” the third ma’amor of Rebbe Rashab’s hemshech Ranat (Rabbi Paltiel’s first class on “Shuva Yisroel” is here), and the same is emphasized in Kuntres HaTefillo.

Before one prays to Hashem, one needs to reach the level where one “knows in front of whom [he is] standing”. It is very well to feel emotion and meaningfulness during davening, but are those directed towards G-d or towards you? To make sure it’s towards G-d, one needs to know what we mean by “G-d”. Of course, the essence of G-d cannot be grasped, but first of all, even this idea needs to be understood positively (there is a difference between a physicist saying he doesn’t know what happens inside a Black Hole — or a doctor saying he doesn’t know how to cure cancer — and an ignorant person saying that), and second, we need to understand the aspects of G-d’s revelation into the world.

During the first stages of one’s growth, however, it is of no use to think of the levels within Or Ein Sof lifnei ha’tzimtzum (G-dly Light as it exists before its contraction preceding creation) or meditate on all the vessels, lights and partzufim of the higher worlds. These things mean nothing to your nefesh ha’bahamis (animal soul), and the purpose of davening is for nefesh ha’Elokis (G-dly soul) to transform nefesh ha’bahamis. In order to do this, the former needs to talk on terms of the latter.

Therefore, until one has reached a higher level, one needs to think of Hashem as He is invested in seider hishtalshelus (creation — spiritual and physical) and specifically this world. Therefore, one needs to start with meditation of how G-d creates the whole world every second, enlivens the soul of all existence, and gives every creature what it needs and desires. How we completely depend on G-d, how He is merciful, and how He directs our lives with mercy and meaningfulness.

This, by the way, is why psukei d’zimra speak about physical things that Hashem does (there is a deeper explanation — that davka in the physical things is the Essence of G-d, but that’s for a more advanced level of hisboinenus). We need to make animal soul interested in what G-dly soul is talking about (and therefore, speake with it on its terms), so that G-dly soul can then fransform it in the process of davening.

The major difference between all of the above and Modern Orthodox “Lincoln Square” approach is that while thinking about G-d as source of our lives (and not about His Essence), we are still thinking about G-d! Sure, it’s the lowest “level” of G-dly Revelation, which is as nothing comparing to higher levels, which are as nothing comparing to His Essence — but this is still G-d! At the same time, in “Lincoln Square” approach one thinks not about G-d but about this world and himself — what tools to be successful in this life will Torah provide me with?

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Two worlds in modern Judaism: reinvention vs. tradition


(how some people see Judaism)

Interesting post on Circus Tent blog regarding two worlds of Orthodox Judaism: one consisting of Jews following an unbroken chain of tradition of how to look at Judaism, and the other, not having that mesora, discovering Judaism de novo.
Today in the US we have a whole range of people under 60, American born, whose knowledge of Judaism is based exclusively on books, and those books are the Shulchan Aruch and Gemora. Most of these people had parents whom I am sure were fine people but left behind the emotional attachment to echte Yiddishkayt in Europe. Here they belonged to Young Israel synagogues and became very acculturated and lost that special hergesh. In America, Judaism was reduced to learning and doing Mitzvos by rote. These people include most MO Jews, the so called Yeshiva community, and even some “Amerikane Chasidim”.

On the other side we have people whose view of Judaism was shaped by seeing how their parents acted, felt, laughed, cried, talked and walked. These people tended to have a genuine Mesorah. They saw Judaism as more than just book learning, and the book learning included Midrash, Chassidus, Sifrei Mussar vechulu. This people tend to be Chassidic and a few Misnagdim who come from European homes. And in the background of all of this loomed the Holocaust, not Coney Island! To the first category Rabbonim are “machinove”, automated people who act in a mathematical way, and have no emotions.
The second category knows that Judaism is more than the dry letter of the law.
Of course, a third category exists: ba’alei teshuva, people whose parents were not religious at all and who “returned” to Judaism. For those people it is a matter of choice which Judaism they are returning to: the one routed in unbroken chain of tradition going back to Mt. Sinai or the one that treats Judaism as a combination of creative writing project and a lab manual.

And I cannot help myself but to bang on the kettle again — within the group that sees the spirit of the law in the letter, two approaches exist: 1) look at Judaism as a path, as a tradition, as a community-preserving/shaping force, 2) look at Judaism as a way of connecting to G-d.

What's in your telephone
(do we care about the phone because it connects us, or because we like it as a gadget?)

Monday, November 24, 2008

Modern Orthodoxy — a religion of compromise. Difference between Modern Orthodoxy and Chabad

(source)

To the right is Gan Eiden, to the left is Gehinnom, and they walk in the middle, afraid to step into either one.

Modern Orthodox Teshuvos”, a lecture by Rabbi Adam Mintz (courtesy of the Hirhurim blog) about perpetual balancing act in Halacha that defines Modern Orthodox movement.
I know how to build a Modern Orthodox shull. I know how a Conservative shull looks like. In a Conservative shull, there is no mechitza — so, I will have mechitza in Modern Orthodox shull. In a Conservative shull they use microphone on Shabbos — so, I will not use microphone on Shabbos. A Hareidi shull has mechitza to the ceiling. I know how to build a Modern Orthodox shull. It will have a four-foot-mechitza. That’s easy, because the extremes are very clear. When it comes to Halacha, Modern Orthodox have no room to maneuver. [...]

He said: “Modern Orthodox have ceded halachic thinking on the one side to the Hareidim, on the other — to the Conservative.”

Now, with all due respect, I don’t agree (for what it’s worth) with Rabbi Mintz regarding what he said at the end of the lecture: that the idea of a rabbi paskening according to specific needs, situation and circumstances of his specific congregation is unique to Modern Orthodox Judaism. I think this certainly exists in all areas of Judaism, although an idea of a rabbi who is not a rav making a psak din (if I understood correctly what Rabbi Mintz was saying) may indeed be shocking to the rest of Orthodox world. What distinguishes Modern Orthodox specifically is the goal MO rabbis have when making halachic decisions (or not making them, as the case may be): to address social issues (such as women singing and getting an aliyah) that is so dear and near to the agenda of Conservative rabbis — with the difference being that MO rabbis do it within the framework of Halacha.

They are perpetually interested in obtaining heterim for minimizing any conflict they may have with the outside world, increasing their ease of life in this world (this, of course, is veiled in such arguments as feeling of self-worth by women — as opposed to the Conservative argument about morality). Hareidi Jews, on the other hand, are interested in paskening in such a way as to guard Judaism from any potential outside influence, as much as possible, and to preserve their “inward” and isolated style of life, to separate themselves from the world (as a result, while Modern Orthodox rabbis are constantly looking for new sources of heterim, Hareidi rabbis’ favorite activity is banning things and issuing chumras).

Chabad differs from both approaches.

When Alter Rebbe was in Russian prison, he refused to eat non-kosher food. One of the officers who was on duty and knew a little bit about Judaism reminded Alter Rebbe that if he died from starvation, this would be the same as suicide — Alter Rebbe may lose his share in the Gan Eiden. Alter Rebbe answered: “I don’t want physical world, I don’t want spiritual world. I don’t want lower Gan Eiden, I don’t want upper Gan Eiden. All I want is Him — His Essence alone.” This is the focus of Chabad Chassidus: not on this world, not on that world, not on preserving community, not on balance between Halacha and modern social agendas — but on G-d alone.

This, indeed, affects how Chabad (and Chassidus in general) paskens Halacha. Although generally it tends to more stringent opinions, Chabad too may find loopholes in Halacha to obtain a heter (e.g., not to sleep in sukkah, not to eat sholosh seudos meal, to be less strict with zmanim of davening, to eat before davening Shachris) — but the reason it looks for these loopholes is starkly different from the reason MO rabbis look for heterim. The latter are interested in this world. Chabad is interested in drawing closer to G-d and therefore paskens according to the anatomy of G-d’s relationship with the world, Kabbalah. More about this in Rabbi Paltiel’s audio-shiur, “How Kabbala Fits into Avoida”.