Daily Archives: June 20, 2021

Reading from a Torah scroll in accordance with Sephardi tradition. Photo: Sagie Maoz via Wikimedia Commons.

Jason Tan is a professor of Policy, Curriculum and Leadership at The National Institute of Education in Singapore. He is also an acknowledged expert on what has become known as lifelong learning. Singapore is a world leader in this field and the Singaporean government has pioneered a lifelong learning program for the entire population; its SkillsFuture platform is available to every citizen.

In an interview earlier this week, Tan noted that the major motivation behind SkillsFuture is the increasing challenge posed by technological disruption to workplaces around the world. Artificial Intelligence is no longer just a threat to lower-skilled jobs, it even threatens white-collar workers. For example, computers are able to read and interpret radiograms, surpassing radiologists in their understanding of the data. Another example is computer programs that write press releases and compose company blurbs by extrapolating information from balance sheets and related financial information. Entire areas of expertise and skill that were previously unassailably human are in danger of obsolescence.

And as this tsunami gathers pace, the only way for workers to stay ahead of the game is to continue learning throughout their lives, constantly gaining new skills, training and retraining as technology advances and circumstances change.

But what really stuck out in Tans description of SkillsFuture was when he said that the Singaporean governments conception of lifelong learning is much broader than just narrow employability concerns. In other words, lifelong learning is not just about putting proverbial bread on the table, but it is about constantly expanding your knowledge. And, most importantly, it is about accepting as fact that no matter how much you know, and how much you have studied in the past, there is always more to learn.

Our Talmudic sources are replete with references to this kind of lifelong scholarly humility, even among the most illustrious of the sages. In Avot (4:1), the last of the great Talmudic darshanim (scriptural interpreters), Simeon Ben Zoma, declares that a wise person is someone who learns something from everyone they come into contact with, based on the verse in Psalms (119:99): From all who taught me have I gained understanding. The implication is clear: learning is not limited to your years at school, and you can gain knowledge throughout your life and, indeed, thats what you should do if you want to be wise.

Both Rabbi Judah, editor of the Mishnah, and his devoted disciple Rabbi Hanina, are quoted as having said (Makkot 10a; Taanit 7a): I have learned much from my teachers and even more from my friends, but more than from all of them I have learned from my students. Strikingly, these outstanding scholars acutely understood that in order to learn, and gain knowledge, you must be willing to humble yourself even to the extent that your students become your teachers.

I can clearly remember from my own years in yeshiva that the rabbis who taught us how to study Talmud and we were self-evidently inexperienced novices by comparison eagerly sought our interpretations of the passages we were studying together, and willingly conceded to our analyses if they felt our version was more accurate. This lifelong learning model has stuck with me i.e., the total negation of ego when it comes to learning something new, or even relearning material. As far as I can tell, it is exactly this that is the root of the wisdom defined by Simeon Ben Zoma in Avot.

Remarkably, this concept of self-negation in the pursuit of knowledge, and specifically Torah knowledge, is explicitly stated by Reish Lakish, the third-century giant of Talmudic literature. In Parshat Chukkat (Num. 19:14), the Torah records the laws of ritual impurity, beginning the section which deals with the impurity of corpses with the words: Zot HaTorah Adam Ki Yamut This is the law, if a person dies in a tent. But rather than seeing this opener as merely introductory words to the arcane laws that follow, Reish Lakish suggests a novel, parallel interpretation. From where do we derive that Torah knowledge is only retained by someone who kills himself over it? he asks and then cites this verse.

Clearly, Reish Lakish would never suggest that we engage in behavior which might endanger our lives just so that we can study Torah, nor is he stating that the study of Torah will result in life-threatening health problems. After all, we are expected to live a Torah life, and if the observance of any aspect of Torah could result in death, preserving our life overrides it. And on a more practical level, being at deaths door is hardly the route to academic success.

Rather, Reish Lakish is making a more prosaic pronouncement. A person who wishes to learn must be willing to kill his ego, and the learning will inevitably be exponentially better. In Reish Lakishs creative interpretation, the verse is telling us that if you want this Torah, then always be ready to kill your ego in the tent of learning.

Or, as Albert Einstein put it, Wisdom is not a product of schooling but of the lifelong attempt to acquire it.

The author is a rabbi in Beverly Hills, California.

See original here:

What Judaism Tells Us About Wisdom and Learning - Algemeiner

By ohtadmin | on June 16, 2021

This is a time of enormous change and stress for Jews at home, in Israel, and around the world. For over a year, the world has dealt with COVID-19, a pandemic the likes of which has not been seen since the influenza pandemic a century ago. Last month, Israel experienced a barrage of over 4,500 missiles fired at its civilians by the terrorist group Hamas. Anti-Semitism, a plague that never disappears, has gotten worse. Violent attacks on Jews in the United States, Europe, and elsewhere are growing in frequency and severity. Jewish institutions are being targeted and Jews are being harassed on social media. There is also a new administration in Washington and a new government in Israel.

This is a time for Jews everywhere to be united in support of Israel and in the fight against anti-Semitism. In an environment where Jewish lives are in danger, we cannot become our own worst enemy. In order to avoid this, we must remember to be civil despite our disagreements.

Jewish history has shown that when our disagreements turn to rancor, no one except those who would do us harm wins. Everyone in the Jewish community does not need to be in the same place politically or religiously. We do, however, need to put community above our individual viewpoints. We must always express our views with the understanding that there are those who disagree. Our fellow Jews are not the enemy. The threats come from those who are anti-Semites and Israel-haters.

There is so much more that unites us than divides us. Jews share a common history and a common destiny. We are one people, and we forget that at our own peril.

The Talmud (Shevuot 39a) states Kol Yisrael Arevim Zeh Bazeh (All Jews are responsible for one another). We are responsible for sustaining our fellow Jews physically by providing for their needs. During the pandemic, our community rallied to feed those who could no longer afford food or get out of the house to get it. We are responsible for the emotional well being of our fellow Jews. We do this by ensuring that no Jew feels lonely or isolated. Our Federation, agencies, and synagogues reached out in support of Jews in our community and throughout the world. Our synagogues and their members also support Jews spiritually every single day.

None of this could take place if we lose sight of the fact that we all belong to the same Jewish community. Now is the time for unity, solidarity, and civility.

Original post:

Jewish discourse must be civil if we are to fight on behalf of Israel and against rising anti-Semitism - Jewish Community Voice

I was at an in-person Shabbat dinner a couple weeks ago my first since the pandemic began. It was my first time back in that previously-familiar environment, figuring out who you know in common with the strangers at the table.

At this dinner, specifically, the main point of connection for our game of Jewish geography was several romantic entanglements. All of us knew multiple people including some at the table who had dated a few specific guys, and revelations abounded, with appropriate gasps and laughs and editorializing commentary.

I cannot tell you how delightful it was. I stayed at this dinner until past midnight, even though it was pouring that night and I almost hadnt come.

Part of this delight was, of course, finally getting to meet new people, relax and talk at length over a tasty meal indoors in someone elses apartment. But a big part of it was the gossip.

Over the past 16 months of varying levels of quarantine, gossip has been one of the greatest losses. I talk to my friends about politics and religion and our hopes for the future and lighter stuff like TV or TikTok but gossip breeds a certain instant intimacy that is hard to achieve any other way.

I dont mean the kind of gossip that tabloids trade in; Ive never met Jennifer Aniston, so I dont really care if shes been sighted with Brad Pitt. I mean gossip about yourself, and the communities youre actually involved in.

Telling people about your own exploits and foibles requires trust and vulnerability, and it cements relationships. But with hardly anyone dating or going on adventures or seeing each other, it felt like our lives were frozen in time; there are only so many times I can talk about virus anxiety or cabin fever. My friendships sometimes felt like they were in stasis without a shared reality to bond over or personal drama to reveal and analyze.

The loss of gossip is not only isolating on an individual level it also severs ties to community. Gossip helps you better connect to and understand the contours of the communities youre part of, and establishes you as an insider. Without shared information about people, the knowledge that you are all part of the same scene and that you all impact each other, the bonds that hold a group together begin to wither. And it feels precarious to reenter the community blind, without any gossip by which to navigate the ways it has changed.

Gossip is generally decried in Jewish text all the top Google hits when I searched for Jewish gossip were admonishing the reader not to engage in lashon hara, or, literally, evil tongue.

But, gossip is rarely, well, all that gossipy, according to a 2019 study published in the journal Social Psychological and Personality Science, which found that only 15% of gossip was negative. Instead, gossip tends to be neutral social information about acquaintances, such as how new parents are doing with their infant.

Researchers have also found that gossip serves to help people bond and function socially, and aids communities in keeping track of the well-being of its members. It teaches cultural norms of a community, making it tighter and helping to perpetuate tradition.

This is particularly true in Jewish settings, where the (in)famous game of Jewish geography is a symptom of the fact that our communities are deeply interconnected. Everyone knows everyone else, and news gets around fast making us feel tightly bound to one another. Its vital to know who is sleeping with whom, who is newly religious or had a falling out or got a new job, so you can better navigate your social surroundings and make sure not to invite someones new beau to a Shabbat meal with their ex.

Honestly, what is the Talmud if not a canonized version of gossipy tales about rabbis arguing and everyday Jews trying to figure out how to live their lives? In Berakhot 62a, theres even a story about a student watching his rabbi use the bathroom, in the interest of learning the correct minhag, or custom. In the next anecdote, the same student lies under his rabbis bed in order to witness him having sex with his wife ostensibly, for the purpose of learning Torah but also incidentally pretty much the best gossip Ive ever heard.

My Shabbat table was a perfect example of all of this. Several people having stories about having dated the same guy, for example, creates intimacy, teaches me the dating norms of the community and also tells me that said guy might be more complicated than hes worth, if the prospect of dating him happens to arise.

Even just one gossipy dinner made me feel like I was part of the community again, both trusted and in-the-know, connected even to those who were strangers at the start of the meal. Hopefully, at the next one, having lived a bit more in the interim, Ill have more of my own tea to spill.

Link:

Gossip is back and thats a good thing - Forward

It was only after Miriam passed on that her greatness was fully appreciated. With her gone, the well dried up and the people learned that the water had been gushing in her merit, certainly not theirs. So too when Aharon passed away. After a period of mourning, the people resumed their journey to the Promised Land, only to discover that the pillar of cloud that had guided and protected them was gone too.

Israel was not alone in recognizing this new vulnerability. Sensing weakness, one of the Canaanite kings launched an attack against Am Yisrael. The Canaanite king of Arad, who dwelled in the South, heard that Israel had come by route of the spies, and he warred against Israel (Bamidbar 21:1).

Who was this king? Was he truly a Canaanite? The Torah is clear that the South is the habitat of Amalek (13:29). Indeed, the Midrash tells us that the attacker was in fact an Amalekite who sought to confuse the Jews. Why? To remain hidden and to confuse the Israelites in order to prevent them from praying for G-ds assistance.

The king ordered his soldiers to speak the Canaanite language. He believed that in hearing them the Jews prayers would mistakenly seek redemption from the Canaanites rather than the Amalekites. But, as the expression has it: A yid git sich alemol an eitza. (A Jew can always figure it out.) It takes more than such a simple ruse to fool the people. You see, although they spoke Canaanite they dressed as Amalekites.

Their clothing gave them away!

Recognizing the enemy for who they were, the people prayed to G-d for salvation and victory without specifying a particular nation by name: If He will deliver this people into my hand (21:2).

Which people? They need not be named. G-d knew. G-d knows.

And yet, if the Amalekites had really wanted to outsmart the Jews, why didnt they dress as Canaanites? Wouldnt it have been smarter if they had aligned their language and dress? That they had not changed their uniforms to match the language they spoke suggests something deeper than just the confrontation described in parshat Chukat (Bamidbar 21:1-3).

The deep lesson here is that ones clothing betrays identity much more than ones speech. Look at a photograph of a busy street scene anywhere in Europe. You can immediately spot the tourists and where they are from! When Yaakov sought to deceive his elderly father, conspiring with his mother to acquire Yitzchaks blessings, he dressed up like his brother Esav. The voice is that of Yaakov, but the hands feel like those of Esav, Yitzchak says, confirming that it is the fleece-skins hands clothed in Esav-like materials that fooled him, not the voice.

Clothing is no small matter for Jews. In addition to protection from heat, cold, rain or snow, clothes speak to the Jewish emphasis on tznius, and all that tznius represents in Jewish life. Rebbi Yochanan (Shabbat 113) calls clothing, mechabdutai something that gives one honor. Rashi explains that clothing is shemechabdin baaleihem, affording honor and prestige: kavod. It is possible to tell a great deal about a man by how he is dressed, not least how the man perceives himself.

One can look like a prince or one can look like a schlepper. Just the other day, I found myself in a doctors waiting room, sitting across from a Jewish man who had his shirt half-tucked and a corner of his shirt sticking out of his zipper! This mans clothes certainly did not bring much honor to him certainly not mechabdutai!

When the Talmud discusses clothing and honor it is almost always in the context of Shabbat, that holy day that focuses on the uniqueness of the Jew. On Shabbat, we are imbued with an additional soul, vayinafash. On Shabbat, we are allowed to exist just a bit closer to the fullness of the holy. Isaiah (58:13) suggests that we should not squander that opportunity; he tells us to infuse Shabbat with a delight of good food and the like: to vchibadeto (closely related to mechabdutai!) measos drachecha. You honor it by not engaging in your own affairs. The Talmud teaches that this exhortation is telling us to be sure our Shabbat attire is not the same as our weekday attire. After all, we would not wear our everyday clothes to a wedding; how much more should we dress for the Shabbat!

Completely transforming ourselves on Shabbat has meant wearing completely different clothes. My grandfather, HaGaon Rav Bezalel Zev Shafran, ztl, was asked (Shut Rbaz 12) by the Admor of Buhush, ztl, whether this requirement to change into Shabbat clothing included changing ones weekday shoes to Shabbat shoes. That these great men asked the question indicated the importance of every aspect of ones attire to ones entire being. Is it any wonder then that the Talmud warns that a talmid chochom should never have so much as a ketem, a spot, even a speck on his garments? Being attired in a uniform representing G-d demands perfection.

Shabbat is when our spirituality should be most apparent. It is when our identity as Jews cannot be mistaken. This is true in how we walk and talk on Shabbat and how we eat on Shabbat. It should certainly be reflected in how you dress.

We communicate our spirituality by how we dress. Shabbat clothing must display holiness on this G-dly day, just as our clothing should make clear our identity as spiritual beings the rest of the week. Our clothing should always lend honor and prestige to who we are.

Our clothes are our uniform. They let everyone know which team were on. They proclaim our stature and identity. Every Jew, man and woman alike, should dress in a way that cries out proudly, I am a Jew! Every Jew should dress in a way that makes apparent that we are a people of dignity, holiness and honor.

As bnai melachim, children of kings, our clothes and how we wear them are tailored and designed by the King and His Torah, not by Paris, Milan or Hollywood. We would be wise to always remember this, that we are children of G-d, so that we do not fall victim to the vagaries of fashion.

On the catwalks of Milan, Paris and New York, clothes are cut to call attention to the ephemeral. On the streets where we bnai melechim walk, our clothes are meant to honor not only ourselves but also the Melech. In Clothes Make the Man (Aish.com), Rabbi Menachem Weiman writes, Clothing is not only linked to the body, but is a metaphor for the body. Just as clothing serves the body, the body serves the soul. You are a soul, and you are given a body to wear in this world. When you leave this realm, and move on to the next, you leave your clothing behind. The less attached you are to physicality; the easier it is to leave it behind.

Our clothes must speak to our spirituality, not our mere physicality.

* * *

As the world reverently observes the 27th yahrzeit of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, ztl, an outstanding Chabad educator, Rabbi Mordechai Dinerman, directed me to a letter the Rebbe wrote to a simple Jew, R Yaakov, who made his living running a dry cleaners.

In the letter, the Rebbe likens the deep cleaning and fine pressing that R Yaakov did to spiritual renewal. From this process, we gain insights into the soul (neshama) of a Jew. When G-d gives a neshama to a Jew, that soul is pure, ironed smooth and a perfect fit. As we say in our daily morning prayers: The soul You have given me is pure.

With time, however, as the soul becomes involved in worldly matters, and if it is not used to fulfill the will of G-d, it tends to become creased. Dirt may cling to it if the person neglects a mitzvah or commits a forbidden act.

Whatever the case may be, Torah teaches us that we must not despair over the condition of the soul and its fitness to sustain the individuals spiritual life. To restore the soul to its original state, we must place it in a conducive environment, and infuse it with the warmth of Torah and mitzvos.

Such profound insight! The Rebbe sees in this mans mundane task a glimmer of true spirituality.

Imagine if the next time you pick up your shirt or suit from the cleaners, you thought of the Rebbes words and held them deeply. Then you would truly be a ben melachim; then kavod would truly reflect to yourself and our Melech!

See original here:

Clothes Make The Man - The Jewish Press - JewishPress.com

LONDON A recent graduate of the Yeshivat Maharat Orthodox egalitarian rabbinical school in New York has been effectively banned from teaching at the London School of Jewish Studies (LSJS), whose president is UK Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis.

The disqualification of Dr. Lindsey Taylor-Guthartz, who has won praise across religious denominations for pursuing her rabbinic studies, brings to the fore an ongoing controversy about Orthodox semicha, or rabbinical ordination, for women.

After learning this week that Taylor-Guthartzs research fellowship at LSJS was revoked and with it, her teaching role 30 rabbis and cantors, mainly women, from the Reform and Liberal movements wrote Mirvis to protest the decision.

Three hundred more people including a former president of the United Synagogue, the home of mainstream Orthodoxy, which is under Rabbi Mirviss aegis sponsored an advertisement in Londons Jewish Chronicle saying they were delighted to congratulate Rabba Dr. Lindsey Taylor-Guthartz on her ordination, and commend her commitment to an intensive program of learning. Taylor-Guthartz and those like her would be role models for future generations, both women and men, it said.

The use of the title of rabba the feminine Hebrew form of rabbi appeared to be deliberate. Taylor-Guthartz, 61, who has taught at LJSJ for 16 years, informed the school of her rabbinical studies when she first enrolled at Yeshiva Maharat three years ago.

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Rabba Dr. Lindsey Taylor-Guthartz. (Alex Taibel)

She said that she embarked on the course to enhance my Torah knowledge and develop my learning further, so that I would develop higher skills and knowledge to teach at a higher level and provide needed leadership within the Orthodox Torah world in London, and the Jewish community in general. She said that she had never intended to seek a post as a communal rabbi.

She also offered to drop the title of rabba while performing her duties at LSJS.

Eve Sacks, one of the leaders of the Jewish Orthodox Feminist Alliance (JOFA) in the UK, said she could not understand why the college did not accept this offer, or why the Office of the Chief Rabbi (OCR) had taken the stance it had.

Taylor-Guthartz met with Mirvis privately last week. The contents of the meeting remained confidential, but it is assumed that Mirvis reiterated his position that women rabbis would not be accepted in the mainstream Orthodox world.

Ordinations of women from Yeshivat Maharat are still largely not recognized in centrist Orthodoxy. Maharat is not the only body that gives semicha to Orthodox women: Israels Rabbi Daniel Sperber, Rabbi Herzl Hefter and Rabbi Daniel Landes are all notable cases of educators who have taken that next step.

The Chief Rabbi very much recognizes the strength of feeling about this issue as is evidenced by his postbag from right across the Jewish community, in the UK and abroad. While there is strong support for the mainstream Orthodox position on female rabbis, he recognizes that others are upset and disappointed, said a spokesman for the Office of the Chief Rabbi in a statement.

It was clear that a continued formal affiliation with a person who, while having contributed a great deal to the institution, had nonetheless stepped beyond the boundaries of mainstream Orthodoxy would have sent a misleading message about what LSJS stands for a message which would have compromised its longstanding commitment to Orthodox Jewish education and training, the consequences of which could have been significant and far-reaching for LSJS, the statement said.

UK Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis at the Presidents Residence in Jerusalem, January 23, 2020. (Raphael Ahren/TOI)

The spokesman said that despite the difficulty in making such a decision when good and talented people are involved, the chief rabbi was compelled to uphold the religious ethos of the school and its position within mainstream Orthodoxy, just as he does for all synagogues and organizations under his auspices.

Mirvis added that it was important to constantly explore the challenge of empowering Jewish women in their learning and religious engagement, and encouraging them to take up leadership roles in our community, in a way that is consistent with our teachings.

But critics of Mirvis told The Times of Israel that the decision to drop Taylor-Guthartz from the LSJS teaching roster sent a difficult message to young people in the community.

This anxiety and worry around how this appears means that people have lost access to a wonderful teacher, said one Orthodox woman who asked not to be named. LSJS, which is a bastion of Modern Orthodox teaching in the UK its teaching has been curtailed because of anxiety over what extremists might think. Look at the backlash that the chief rabbi got when he spoke out against bullying of LGBT teenagers. It would have been so easy for him to say, You cant use your title at the college, but carry on teaching.

Illustrative: Yeshivat Maharat students attend a graduation ceremony in New York, June 17, 2019. (Shulamit Seidler-Feller/Yeshivat Maharat via JTA)

In their letter to Mirvis, the Reform and Liberal cantors and rabbis said that despite LSJSs self-proclaimed principle of maximizing the participation of women as educational leaders, there is clearly still a glass ceiling of Torah, above which half your community may not ascend We see this decision as a blow to our wider UK Jewish community, and especially to recent notable, albeit incremental, progress in womens leadership and learning.

In the wake of the row, Middlesex University the British university which gives teacher training credits to LSJS is investigating its relationship with the college. A spokesman for Middlesex told Londons Jewish News that LSJS had maintained that they were bound by [the chief rabbis] guidance in the teaching of religious texts and rabbinic authority.

Taylor-Guthartz told The Times of Israel that an unlikely series of events brought her to the center of the current controversy. Her father is not Jewish and when her mother remarried when Taylor-Guthartz was 7, the family moved to Cornwall an area with one of the smallest Jewish populations in the UK.

We were totally assimilated, she said. I didnt know I was Jewish until I was 7.

I didnt know I was Jewish until I was 7

Taylor-Guthartz was sent to a Christian boarding school and became curious about Judaism during the Christmas holidays. She says she devoured the relevant articles in the Encyclopaedia Britannica at the local library and taught herself biblical Hebrew from a language book she found there.

When she went to Cambridge University to study archaeology and anthropology, the future rabba reconnected with the Jewish community. That was the first time, she said, that I had seen Jews who were not members of my family.

By degrees, Taylor-Guthartz began studying and observing Judaism. She began keeping the laws of Shabbat and kosher dietary laws in her second year of university and attended a Talmud class in her third year, taught by an ultra-Orthodox rabbi who didnt mind having a girl in the class.

Illustrative: Students at the Yeshivat Maharat liberal Orthodox seminary for women. (Chavie Lieber/Times of Israel)

Laughing, she confessed that I used to have half an hour of remedial Talmud before the class, just to stay with the rest of them. Just once, I asked the right question I was very proud of myself.

Today, Taylor-Guthartz counts it as an enormous advantage to have learned about Judaism from scratch, which enables her to recognize students who come from backgrounds similar to hers when she is teaching.

After moving to Israel at the age of 21, Taylor-Guthartz took a low-paying job at the Israel Antiquities Authority, supplementing her income by moonlighting as a copyeditor at The Jerusalem Post a few times a week. While there, she met her husband, with whom she shares two daughters. The couple remained in Israel for 17 years before returning to the UK in 1998. Taylor-Guthartz also worked at the Bible Lands Museum and as one of only four archaeological translators in Israel.

Taylor-Guthartz said her time in Israel provided her with fluent Hebrew skills a necessity for taking part in the Maharat course. She was, and continues to be, very impressed by the fluency of her Maharat student colleagues, and by the confidence of young women in the Modern Orthodox world, she said.

Her path to education began in the UK when Taylor-Guthartz was amazed to find herself being asked questions about Jewish practice. One woman in the United Synagogue wanted to know whether we were allowed to pray outside the synagogue, and are we allowed to pray in our own words, Taylor-Guthartz said. I was so shocked that she had no idea.

Taylor-Guthartz enrolled in a well-known program for the training of women educators, the Susi Bradfield scheme. She gradually began teaching, while still learning at the same time. Her doctorate, funded by LSJS, was about the religious lives of Orthodox Jewish women in the UK.

Former senior Reform Rabbi Laura Janner-Klausner. (Courtesy/ Graham Chweiden)

That might have been the end of her story had it not been for the tragic death of her friend and LSJS colleague Maureen Kendler in 2018. At the funeral, the then-senior rabbi of the Reform Movement, Laura Janner-Klausner, urged Taylor-Guthartz and other women present to undertake rabbinic ordination at Yeshivat Maharat in Kendlers honor. Taylor-Guthartz took that step.

After she lost her position at LSJS, she told The Times of Israel this week, I am so sad at this denial of the opportunity to take my teaching to new heights and to expand access to Torah learning for my beloved students at LSJS. I find it tragically ironic that, having spent three years studying halachah [Jewish law] I cannot share this knowledge in the institution that I have served for so long. The decision is regrettable, but I am determined to continue to teach Torah across the community to everyone who is eager to learn.

She said she has no regrets.

It has made me much better equipped, I feel I am a much better teacher, and I can help to fill the unfilled spaces, Taylor-Guthartz said. Women will benefit from having another woman with halachic knowledge to turn to. And what I am doing, and other British women on the Maharat course, will offer role models for Jewish women in the UK.

Read the rest here:

UK teacher dropped by Orthodox school after she receives rabbinical ordination - The Times of Israel

Yisrael Beytenu leader and Finance Minister Avigdor Liberman wrote on Twitter Thursday morning that the resolution was the result of joint efforts byDefense Minister Benny Gantzand himself, which will do justice to the families [of the victims] and prevent the next such disaster in the State of Israel.

On April 30, some 45 mostly ultra-Orthodox men and boys died in a mass crush on Mount Meron, the site of the tomb of Talmudic sage Shimon Bar Yohai, where tens of thousands of pilgrims had gathered for the annual Lag BaOmer celebrations.

The site suffers from deficient and unsuitable infrastructure, with past government, police and media reports having determined that it must be overhauled to avoid a disaster.

The last government refused to appoint an independent state committee of inquiry, headed by a Supreme Court judge .

Ultra-Orthodox Parties Shas and United Torah Judaism proposed the establishment of a public committee of inquiry instead, which would have been controlled by government ministers and whose members would have been chosen by them.

When Gantz submitted his proposal to the cabinet earlier this week, he described the need for a state committee as a basic ethical imperative vis--vis the families, and in order to prevent tragedies of this nature in the future.

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The resolution is almost certain to be approved.

The Forum of Families of Meron Victims welcomed Gantzs submission of the resolution back on Monday.

As we have demanded from the outset, and together with MK Moshe Gafni, in his letter a month ago on behalf of the United Torah Judaism faction, we hope that an investigative committee into the Meron disaster will be established immediately, said the forum in a statement to the press.

This is not a political matter; we expect the entire political spectrum to support the establishment of an inquiry committee so that the ultra-Orthodox community will sense that the investigation is carried out with sensitivity and with determination, it said.

Read more:

Meron tragedy: Cabinet to vote on Sunday to approve investigation - The Jerusalem Post

New York mayoral candidate Andrew Yang recently made waves when he declared that the city shouldnt interfere with Orthodox Jewish schools as long as the outcomes are good. Yangs position is very different from the one that some activist groups have pushed in recent years. Critics claim that many such yeshivas do not offer enough secular education to satisfy New Yorks requirements and to prepare their students for the workforce.

But Yang got this right. Even if some Jewish schools do not teach the same content as public schools, if, as Yang put it, their outcomes are good, the city should let them be.

First, the criticisms of New Yorks yeshivas are empirically unsound. Reports of minimal secular education across New Yorks Yeshivas confuse the exceptions for the rule. Over 170,000 students attend hundreds of Orthodox Jewish Schools in New York. Most of these schools offer a robust secular studies curriculum. Even the few Hasidic schools that dont still provide an intellectually rigorous education; they simply prioritize religious studies over secular equivalents.

As Yangwho is famously data-drivencertainly realizes, no data support the view that outcomes are poor for students in Hasidic schools. While data about Hasidic economic and educational outcomes are limited, the information available does not suggest that Hasidim are particularly disadvantaged economically. According to the U.S. Census Bureau, average household incomes in Williamsburg and Borough Park in Brooklyn (home to many of New York Citys Hasidim) are 9th and 29th highest out of 50 districts city-wide. So too, its not clear that Hasidic students who are largely English Language Learners (ELL) since their first language is usually Yiddish would fare any better in public schools. For example, 8th grade ELL students in the Williamsburg public schools (where many Hasidim live) had a zero percent proficiency rate in math and English in 2016, according to the citys own data.

Most importantly, the criticisms misstate both the law and the philosophical problems that underlie it. American law balances a real tension between two competing values: parents right to educate their children as they see fit and the states right to ensure a reasonable education for all children. As far back as 1925, the Supreme Court in Pierce v. Society of Sisters recognized the unique role that parents play in their childrens education. In 1972, the Supreme Courts ruling in Wisconsin v. Yoder made clear that when mandatory education laws would destroy a viable religious community, the state must back off to allow the community to function, even at the expense of the model of education that the state prefers.

New York codifies this balance using the phrase substantial equivalence. Private school education must be substantially equivalent to but not necessarily identical with public school education. (See New York State Cracks Down on Religious Schools, Fall 2019.)

For over a century, this New York standard lay dormant. In 2018, the state responded to complaints about some Hasidic yeshivas in New York by redefining equivalence to mean that private schools must offer a wide range of specific subjects for specific periods of time each day. Many private schools objected, and a trial court rejected this approach as administratively over-broad. Had the regulations stood, they would have transformed private school education in the state by requiring private schools to reproduce public education, rather than fulfilling their own unique missions.

Resolving this legal problem requires thinking through some fundamental questions. Why should the state regulate education? To produce law-abiding citizens? To teach students how to think? To ensure their personal happiness? To train them for sustainable jobs?

By the most important of these metrics what Yang calls good outcomes Hasidic schools pass with flying colors. They offer a deep and rich education that emphasizes text comprehension and analytic thinking, even if the context for these skills is very different from that found in public schools. They produce graduates who live in stable communities: Hasidic populations report low levels of violent crime, and a high degree of family and social cohesion.

Hasidic culture is different, even strange, to many Americans. But that does not make Hasidic life any less valuable and productive. It is parochial to assume that the only life of value is one that aims for the Ivy League.

No one cultural or educational model is right or wrong. Use of education law to mandate schooling that conflicts with religious faith is exactly what our constitutional system opposes. And for good reason: forcing parents into an educational model that they religiously oppose is unlikely to succeed. Private schools subsidize public education since parents pay taxes towards the schools, but do not send their children to them (to the tune of $7 billion a year in New York City, since NYC spends $28,000 per student in public school and 256,000 NYC students go to private schools). We should use some of those savings to help Hasidic yeshivas improve in ways that match the values of society at large without undermining religious values they hold dear.

In an environment of increasing antisemitism, and after two years of near daily physical and verbal attacks on Hasidic Jews, does it make sense to single out this communitys schools alone for special condemnation, particularly when the citys public schools are often doing no better a job?

In a multicultural society, we must all make room for each other and for our diverse values. While most Americans will attend public schools, private schools (particularly parochial schools), exist to provide other kinds of education in Mandarin or Yiddish, focusing on Native American culture or Talmudic law, providing an Amish or Catholic view of the world.

Rather than mandating conformity, New York should support reasonable educational rubrics ones that are consistent with each religious communitys values, and that, as Yang suggests, produce good outcomes. Carrots from government, rather than sticks, need to be used to achieve those goals.

Michael J. Broyde is a professor of law at Emory University and the Berman Projects Director at its Center for the Study of Law and Religion. Moshe Krakowski is an associate professor and director of the masters programs at the Azrieli Graduate School of Jewish Education and Administration at Yeshiva University.

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Andrew Yang Is Right. There Should be Very Little Regulation of Hasidic Education - EducationNext

This weeks Torah reading contains an exceptionally puzzling passage. We are told about the complaints of the Jews, who are thirsty and worried. Moshe and Aharon are told by God totake the rod and assemble the community, and before their very eyes order the rock to yield its water. Moshe hits the rock twice, and it gives forth a copious amount of water.

Immediately after this miracle, God says to Moshe: Because you have not believed in Me, to sanctify Me in the eyes of the children of Israel, therefore you will not bring this assembly into the land which I have given them.

What did Moshe do wrong? This passage challenges every interpreter. Don Isaac Abravanel mentions eleven interpretations of this passage. And there are yet more. One opinion he cites says perhaps Moshe didnt sin at all, and the Torah is blaming Moshe for the sins of the people. A clear explanation remains elusive.

Rashi offers one of the stranger explanations. He says Moshes sin was hitting the rock after he had been specifically commanded to speak to the rock. Rashi says: For had you spoken to the rock and it had given forth [water], I would have been sanctified in the eyes of the congregation. They would have said, If this rock, which neither speaks nor hears, and does not require sustenance, fulfills the word of the Omnipresent, how much more should we!

Rashis explanation seems more puzzling than the passage itself! The Ramban points out that God had asked Moshe to carry his stick to the rock; wouldnt that imply he was supposed to hit the rock? In addition, considering that the rock is an inanimate object, what difference does it make if he speaks to the rock or hits it?

When you consider the wider context, Rashis explanation is even more perplexing. In a prior section of the Torah (Exodus 17:5-6), Moshe is commanded to produce water for the congregation by hitting a rock. Why would this time be different?

Perhaps the best way to read Rashi is to see this as an allegory on leadership. Moshes audience is not the rock; it is the people. Whether he hits the rock or speaks to it tells us everything about how he will lead the people.

Leaders use different tools to influence their followers, and those methods run on a continuum from coercion to persuasion. Warm words are used to persuade, while a swinging stick is used to coerce. A leader must adjust his methods according to the audience: for certain audiences one needs to carry a big stick, and for others, it is critical to speak softly.

A leader must adjust his methods according to the audience: for certain audiences one needs to carry a big stick, and for others, it is critical to speak softly.

In Moshes early career, he had to be a leader who carried a big stick. When Moshe initially refuses to lead, he says it is because he is not a man of words. The Midrash (Shemot Rabbah 3:14) explains that God responds to Moshe that he doesnt need to speak. In dealing with a dictator like Pharaoh, a man accustomed to the master-slave view of politics, all Moshe needs is a big stick. Pharaoh is not open to persuasion and will only respond to brute force.

Even Moshes leadership of the Jews after leaving Egypt is based on brute force. As former slaves, they respond best to strength and coercion. Similarly, at Mount Sinai, the Talmud says the Jews accept the Torah under duress (Shabbat 88a).

In this context, we can understand why in the Book of Exodus, during the first year in the desert, Moshe is commanded to hit the rock. Moshe must lead a reluctant assembly of former slaves, a people who only know how to respond to coercion; leadership for them requires a powerful show of force.

But the event at Mei Merivah takes place in the 40th year. This is a new generation, born free in the desert. They too must follow; but this is not the time for coercion. Here, a new generation must be convinced to be self-reliant and strong, and that can only be accomplished with persuasion and education.

Rashi incisively leads us to the core of the Mei Merivah issue. In the 40th year in the desert, big stick leadership will diminish the second generations ability to hear Gods voice.

Moshes sin is nearly imperceptible from the text, because it is unique to his situation. As a leader overseeing generational change, he was expected to understand that some generations require the big stick, while others require soft words. And because Moshe cannot pivot to the leadership of speaking softly, another leader must bring the second generation into Eretz Yisrael.

Moshes sin is nearly imperceptible from the text, because it is unique to his situation.

For the last 200 years, Orthodox Jewry has been trying its best to adapt to a new reality. In the medieval era, certain judicial rights were granted to the leadership of the community, and Jewish leadership within the ghetto could certainly pressure and coerce their members into observance. But after the Emancipation gave political rights to the Jews in Western Europe, the ghetto walls came tumbling down, and the position of Orthodoxy diminished.

Many recognized that political rights would change the religious landscape. As Napoleon was marching toward Russia, the rabbis of Russia debated whether they should pray for him to defeat the hated czar, Alexander I. Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, the first Rebbe of Chabad, said that he was praying for the czar to be victorious. He explained that he had seen a vision of the future on Rosh Hashanah, and was shown that if Bonaparte is victorious, the wealth of the Jewish people will be increased and the dignity of Israel will be restored. The hearts of Israel, however, will become more distant from their father in heaven. It would be difficult to lead the Jews into a new world and persuade them to follow in the ways of their ancestors.

Generations later, all Jews would be liberated, and grow more distant from heaven. But the Seventh Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, who passed away 27 years ago this week, was one who understood better than anyone how to adapt the message of Torah to the modern world; and he did so brilliantly, using down-to-earth lessons from baseball and profound insights from physics. He understood that a new vocabulary needed to be used, and that every Jew needed to learn how to reach out to others. Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, in his biography of the Rebbe, begins with a chapter entitled A Rebbe for the New World, a description that recognizes how difficult it is to teach ancient wisdom to a very different generation of Jews. And the Rebbe recognized his mission encompassed all of humanity.

In one of the more powerful stories in the book, Telushkin tells of advice the Rebbe gave to Shirley Chisolm, the newly elected congresswoman from his district. As Telushkin explains, Chisholm was the first black woman elected to Congress. [she] lacked the power to stop senior and influential southern democratic congressmen, many of whom in those days were racists, from assigning her to the agriculture committee, an intentionally absurd appointment for a representative from Brooklyn. Chisholm, who wanted to work on education and labor issues, was both frustrated and furious. She soon received a phone call from the office of one of her constituents: The Lubavitcher Rebbe would like to meet with you. Chisholm came to 770. The Rebbe said: I know youre very upset. Chisholm acknowledged being upset and insulted. What should I do? The Rebbe said: What a blessing God has given you. This country has so much surplus food, and there are so many hungry people and you can use this gift that Gods given you to feed hungry people. Find a creative way to do it.

And so she did. Together with farming state sponsors, Chisholm would introduce the Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants, and Children (WIC), which would feed millions of people.

This is just one example of how the Rebbes persuasive leadership would be transformative for Jews and non-Jews alike. Remarkably, a new generation in the new world could still follow a Rebbe, because they were ready for a different kind of leadership.

Rabbi Chaim Steinmetz is the Senior Rabbi of Congregation Kehilath Jeshurun in New York.

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Moshe's Leadership, the Rebbe, and the Dilemma of the Modern Jew - Jewish Journal