During the Jewish legal system class, something very interesting happened. The course is taught by Rabbi David Ehrenkranz of Sharon, MA, a well-known and respected Orthodox rabbi and educator. He was focusing on some of the differences between courtrooms in the USA and in a Jewish halakhic setting.
If you're reading my blog, you won't be surprised that when Rabbi E said, "what is something you don't see in a Jewish courtroom but that you see in an American courtroom?" (Juries, Lawyers) I said, "Women, as witnesses or judges."
This is where it got interesting. Rabbi E said, "Actually, in many beit din contexts, we do accept some testimony from women, though of course they're not judges and they can't sign documents." While I was pondering how a nice guy like him could have inserted so much Othering into one sentence, another parent in the room raised his hand.
"Well, this is only for Orthodox Judaism, right?" he said. It was like he'd broken the fourth wall - that was the extent of his recalibration of my reality at that moment. Yes! Of course! There's a whole other Jewish world out there, and I don't have to keep banging my head on Orthodoxy. But I kind of do, because somehow, no matter what I do, say, and believe, apparently Orthodoxy still shapes how I think during all these discussions.
I'm apparently like Shalom Auslander, whose hilarious and poignant work can be summarized by the idea, "For someone who doesn't exist, God really has a lot of influence on me."
Or like the questioner in the joke told to me by my brother-in-law Ernest, about the Atheist Jew who still follows all the halakha because he doesn't mind and enjoys celebrating Shabbat. His friend says, "But don't you want to do something, just to bother God?" The response is, "Whom would I be bothering?"
It also reminded me of a passage from Tova Mirvis's memoir, in which she attends a Yom Kippur service at a Chavurah, and when she feels guilt about driving there, participating in an egalitarian service, etc., she describes her realization that this is a religious, positive experience for many Jews. And that for them, it's actually a guilt-assuaging activity on Yom Kippur.
By coincidence, there is currently a discussion of the meaning of "Modern Orthodox" on a curated (censored) email list called Mail.Jewish, on which I've participated for over 25 years. I thought it would be helpful for that discussion to write up sample responses from along a stream of Jewish perspectives, about a story that I sent to M.J years ago.
The story was that my son Ezra, after reading a Percy Jackson book, grabbed a cup of juice and declared, "I offer this to Poseidon!" which shocked the rest of us. I thought it would be a very interesting topic for M.J (though I sent it anonymously for fear of the kind of meanness that I sometimes experience on that list). In fact, two responses emerged, the ultra-Orthodox (Chareidi) view that this is the problem with reading secular literature, and the more modern, still Orthodox, view that essentially, education can conquer any issue that might come up.
While I was writing up the sample responses, an internet acquaintance of many years, who is an editor of M.J, suggested that the Reform Jewish response might be something like, "we don't have to listen to ancient texts". I thought this was striking. I've never met a Reform Jew who starts there when addressing a Jewish question. That's how an Orthdox Jew thinks a Reform Jew thinks. But in my extensive experience in non-Orthodox communities, I see all Jews struggling with how our tradition (and texts!) should inform and influence our lives today.
Here is what I came up with - I do think that there are outlook differences, of course. It's not even on the radar of most Jews that they would have to ask a Rabbi what to do, or that it would be an option to censor all secular literature:
Reading the recent posts on what MO might or might not be, reminded me of a postSince I'm the closest thing on M.J to a Conservative, Reform, or Secular Jew that most members there will ever read, I hope I got it at least close to correct. :)
a while back on MJ about a young boy who read the Percy Jackson books and
learned about Greek mythology, and then took a cup of juice and proclaimed, "I
offer this to Poseidon!" prompting a bit of a panic. (Cup was kashered; juice
was thrown away; education was provided.)
I remember specific responses when I discussed this on-list and off-list, and it
illustrated to me where MO falls in a spectrum of Jewish practice/belief:
Chareidi Orthodox response: This is why we shouldn't allow children to read
secular books! I'm going to take away those books and rebuke my child for such
blatant avoda zara. The cup and juice are already in the trash.
Modern Orthodox response: Can the cup be kashered? Ask a Rabbi, but I think we
have to throw out the juice. This is a great learning opportunity, because how
often does this issue really come up in real life? And we know that this kid
does not actually pray to an ancient Greek idol; we're not worried about that
nowadays. It's a time for discussion and education about what it means to be
Jews. We would never forbid secular literature because it would cut out a great
light of humanity, itself perhaps a manifestation of Hashem's influence on what
people can achieve.
Conservative response: I'm not so comfortable with anyone drinking the juice,
but come on, the cup should just be washed; there's no way it's treif. Who
believes in idols these days? We're obviously Jewish, but I don't need to ask
any Rabbi about what to do. My kids know they're Jewish and we don't daven to
other "gods". I'll talk to them to make sure they understand that.
Reform response: That was an inherently non-Jewish thing for my kid to do. I'd
rather we put the juice away, at least for a while, because I don't want anyone
in my family to think we would eat an idol offering. Obviously no one believes
in idols anymore. In fact, my family wrestles with what the role of any "god" at
all would be in our lives. The reason I don't want my kid to pretend to offer
something to Poseidon is that it makes me spiritually uncomfortable in my own
understanding of being part of the Jewish people.
Secular (but Jewish-identified) response: That is disturbing, and for some
reason I feel like we shouldn't drink that juice. We're Jewish, and there's no
way I want one of my kids pretending to be another religion. When I think about
it, is it so different to pray to one god or another? But on some level, this
really does feel wrong. I'm going to talk to my kids about that. Some pretend
play crosses a line for me.
For a long time, I've thought that an Orthodox upbringing sets certain thinking parameters that are just different than how other kinds of Jews experience life, regardless of eventual belief or practice. My friend and former colleague, Rabbi Shmuel Feld, once led a Yom Kippur shiur that I attended, in which he introduced the song "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls as a text source for the holiday, including the poignant verse:
And I don't want the world to see meWithout exception, in the class, everyone from an Orthodox upbringing read the verse as coming from a penitent to God - and those from non-Orthodox upbringings read it as coming from God to the penitent.
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
I'm not sure what to make of this all, but I think it's the start of an answer to Ben, who often asks me, "why?" when I participate in Mail.Jewish, get offended during halakha shiurim, or in general, keep banging my head against Orthodoxy while trying to figure out what it means to me to be Jewish.
