It is never easy for someone to simply compose a document explaining one’s world view. For one, it is difficult to organize one’s thoughts and present them coherently when there are numerous interrelated concepts. On a micro-level each word and phrase must also be carefully analyzed for they too impact how one’s position will be received. Then, regardless of how well (or poorly) one succeeds in writing one’s thoughts, is of course the inevitable criticism which will follow.

Because it is a personal exercise, critiques are more likely to be taken personally. As such, whoever would accept such a challenge must be able to balance between ideological and personal rejection.

Simply put, people don’t like being told that they’re wrong, especially regarding their essential fundamental beliefs.
This is especially true when the topic at hand is religion for one’s opinions often result in serious repercussions.¹ In Judaism for example, arguments over kashrut affect who can eat someone’s house. If someone is thought to be a Shabbat violator, then his overall halakhic status is aversely affected.

Furthermore, disputes over the fundamental nature of halakha may lead to someone being branded a heretic and/or be socially excommunicated as being “beyond the pale” of Judaism. In such cases, a person might not be counted in minyan. If the person in question is a Rabbi, this could lead some to question or reject someone’s marriages, or worse, divorces.
Despite all these reservations and potential repercussions, I am finding it more and more necessary to explain my opinions on Judaism, especially regarding halakha. The main reason is simply for clarification. Many people have had isolated conversations with my father, and as such many people have incomplete or incorrect views of what his system is. I have also had similar results from similar limitations; a typical conversation does not allow for a full explication of one’s ideas. Given the potential consequences outlined above, this has led to much confusion as to what we actually believe.² Rather than rely on other’s labels and assessments, I can let my own words express my opinions.

Secondly, in the process of the next few essays, I hope to redefine and clarify many of the misconceptions people have about halakha. As most Orthodox Jews have found, halakhaic arguments are generally pointless or counter-productive, most likely because people have their own definitions and frequently talk past each other. What I will show is that in many cases people are not necessarily as far apart as their arguments may indicate.

Finally, the opinions set forth here while not necessarily innovative, will probably be unique to most readers. Few if any orthodox Jews have coherent or consistent perceptions of halakha or Judaism as a whole. Some prefer not to think about things, others are just comfortable with whatever inconsistencies they might have. In the forthcoming essays I hope to at least call attention to certain issues. You may agree with my perceptions and conclusions, or you may find them unconvincing. Minimally, I hope that the issues raised will be thought-provoking.

And perhaps realize that maybe I am not as crazy as you’d think.³

1. See Strauss, Leo.
2. Although, based on blog feedback and comments, I have found that putting things into print does not always help matters. Still, having something I wrote in print makes for easier referencing and correcting.
3. Or of course, perhaps more than you ever imagined.

This will be the final post in the impossibly named series I called Rabbi Week. Today, I’d like to discuss what I consider to be the major misconception of the Rabbinate, and wrap things up with some thoughts as to what the future might hold.

The past few years haven’t been good for the image of the Modern Orthodox Rabbinate. From the Lanner scandal and subsequent OU cover-up, to the most recent frustrations with YU, it isn’t surprising to find Modern Orthodox Jews who are suspect if not disgusted with the institution of the Rabbinate. I’ve personally heard claims of malicious dishonesty, where if you’re part of the “old-boys club,” you can get away with whatever you want.

Most Modern Orthodox Jews will blame the “system” or Rabbinic intstitutions for perpetuating a corrupt system. The Rabbis are simply looking out for themselves, and so continue the patterns of dishonesty though their schools and organizations. But while there may be some merit to this position, it fails to address why such a system is allowed to exist and to continue. Assuming that the Rabbiniate is as bad as some people say – a presumptuous suggestion in its own right – then what would the factors be that caused this unfortunate situation?

If you’re reading this blog, odds are you’ve read something about Jewish Law. You might have seen one of the many codifications such as the Mishnah Torah or Shulhan Aruch. Perhaps you’ve come across a commentary on one of these codes, common ones being the Ramo or Mishnah Berurah. You may have even read published rabbinic teshuvot – responsa addressing specific questions – like Yehaveh Da’at by R. Ovadia Yosef or the Iggros Moshe by R. Moshe Feinstein. Contemporary publishers such as Feldheim or Artscroll compile popular positions of Jewish Law on selected topics. All these works contain Rabbis’ opinions, rulings, and occasionally reasonings for their halakhic decisions. In all of these works, the Rabbinic writers intend to shape Jewish practice – albeit to different degrees depending on the intended audience and the intended effect of their decisions.
If you’ve seen these types of sources, you’re also probably aware that for any given issue, there are multiple opinions. Considering all the halakhic debates, it’s hard enough deciding whom to follow, let alone making a decision for other people. Each posek has his own methodologies for reaching his conclusions, and to fully understand each one requires a complete and detailed study of their individual works. However, all “poskim” share similar challenges in publishing their works. One such challenge is distinguishing normative Jewish Law with statements of public policy.

Of the positions in the orthodox rabbinate, perhaps the two most noticeable and influential are those of the Rav and the Rosh Yeshiva. The Rav is more commonly known as a “pulpit rabbi” and is employed by a community to oversee and establish religious policy for his congregation.¹ The Rosh Yeshiva is not necessarily the “head of the school” as its title translated,² but rather is a Torah scholar who often teaches those who will eventually become Rabbis.

In contemporary halakhic disputes, it is not uncommon to find these two groups on opposite sides – especially regarding modifications to existing practices or customs. A Rav may wish to innovate, and a Rosh Yeshiva would wish to preserve the status quo. The real question is not the nature of the new or modified practice, but who has the real authority to promote change in normative Judaism.

This is what would have been part one of the comically misnamed Rabbi Week. Yes, I’m back writing, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to get everyone out in a week’s time. Many apologies for the delay. I might even write something at a later point about it, but it does get somewhat personal. At any rate, better late than never.
Let the fun begin.

Introduction
For a prelude, first see the last post. For now, let’s get right to it.
Jewish dating stinks.

Everyone has their reasons and explanations. I’ve heard people blame the men, the women, the shadchanim, the Rabbis, and the whole culture at large. Of course, none of these discussions are productive. Even assuming one could find fault with any element of society, it’s unlikely that change will happen on an institutional level. More importantly, it doesn’t help the singles with their current situation.

As a friend and Rabbi, I’ve spoken to many people about their struggles in the Jewish dating world. As a single myself, I’ve personally experienced my share of disappointments and frustrations. I am not a professional therapist, nor am I trained in psychology. I’m hardly an expert in relationships, and I don’t have the greatest track record. However, I do think I have a decent understanding of the situation and of the many people affected. I also have a tendency to think too much.

I’ve started putting together my thoughts on dating and I’ve tried to offer some practical advice for singles. Unlike many comments I’ve seen and heard, I’m going to focus on what you, the individual, can do. Men, women, shadchanim, and rabbis are all out of your control. If you’re having trouble finding someone, no one can simply create a person for you.¹ If you’ve fallen for someone, you can’t control if that person will respond favorably. However, you are in control of yourself, and only you are responsible for yourself.

My thoughts on dating are constantly evolving, and therefore are subject to change.