What Is Greatness in Torah? (Column 682)
In one of the more embarrassing threads on this site about drafting Haredim, Erez wrote the following sentence:
I have become convinced today from a conversation with that kollel man that there are no “Gedolim” who are not Haredi, and that our crown, the late Rabbi Kook (the Ra’ayah), was the last “Gadol B’Yisrael” whose outlook was not Haredi.
These words come straight from the mouth of a “high priest,” a person whose understanding of Torah is roughly like my understanding of ancient Chinese. Yet he is deeply and emphatically convinced of this because he spent one evening with a Haredi kollel man who spoke (nonsense) “eloquently and persuasively.” Since it cannot be denied that such a feeling exists among many (and of course among all Haredim, though not only them), I thought it appropriate to try to understand where this comes from. Therefore, I wrote a column that will touch on the question of who is a Gadol in Torah.
Infants Captured by Themselves
More than once I have written (see for example Columns 655, 680, and more) that the Haredi public conducts itself childishly (=infantile). The arguments advanced to justify its path are generally foolish and reflect a basic lack of understanding in various fields of knowledge as well as in halachic application. In many cases, social pressures determine truth and understanding. This is a public of “infants captured,” except that they are captive to themselves. But even in such a situation, and perhaps precisely then, it is apt to say that “a prisoner cannot release himself from prison.” Why do I mention this here? Because this too is intimately connected to the question addressed in this column: what is greatness in Torah.
The initial trigger for writing this column arose a few days ago, when I read an article by Yehuda Yifrach in last Shabbat’s supplement of Makor Rishon, “‘Put pressure on us’: Rabbis from the heart of the Lithuanian world talk about the conscription issue” (for those who want to read it as a file, see PDF). The article is certainly interesting, and the headline gives a sense of the depth of the captivity in which the Haredi public finds itself. However, it is worth noting that the term “rabbis” in the Haredi context means married men, sometimes kollel fellows and sometimes Ramim (teachers) in some yeshiva high school or major yeshiva. There is no reason to think these are the words of Haredi leaders.
These things join what Rabbi Elchanan Nir brought in an article from about nine months ago, in which he recounts a meeting he and Rabbi Tamir Granot had with a well-known Haredi rabbi about conscription and more (this time it was indeed a fairly prominent Haredi leader):
Recently I had a long visit, together with my friend Rabbi Tamir Granot, with a recognized Haredi Gadol. “Come and be part of the people of Israel,” we cried in his ears. He understood and even agreed that we were right. “But if I go out publicly and say that you are right,” he justified, “they will persecute and boycott me.” And then he added candidly: “We are a community of children; you are a community of adults. We will not be able to mature on our own. The internal mechanism will cut off any attempt at change. You will have to give us a kick; only that way will we grow.”
Anyone familiar with Haredi conduct does not need these descriptions. There is no doubt that these feelings exist even among the highest rabbinic leadership, which is itself captive. You can sense this from Yifrach’s descriptions of the clandestineness required for some of his interlocutors to agree to be interviewed anonymously. I too have previously brought similar descriptions. You understand that a society that operates this way—where one cannot raise opinions for open discussion and everything runs under fear—is a distorted society. Of course, one cannot take seriously anything Haredim say. There is no way to know what a Haredi person really thinks, even when he speaks in a private forum. And certainly there is no way to gauge their religious devotion and worldviews, since outwardly there is always a perfect façade (see Column 680, in the section “A brief discussion on the price of insularity,” which deals with the myth of Haredi survivability).
The absurdity here is that we are dealing with a public that follows its leaders who are themselves captive to the public and its activists, and so on in a vicious circle. They are in a loop one cannot escape from—at least if they are unwilling to take steps and pay prices (see the end of Column 680)—and they continue to fear their own shadow. Each one there fears the other, creating a community whose distorted conduct is based on mutual fear. Therefore, even those already willing to sound the alarm and admit the problematic situation continue to hide and to release declarations from the closet through journalists and non-Haredi people. They are begging for someone to save them from themselves, since after Baron Münchhausen who pulled himself up by his hair and got himself out of the pit, we have not found a prisoner who frees himself from jail.
But here I wish to touch on a point that arose in Yifrach’s article, almost as a side remark (I don’t know why it is customary to write mesiach, as in “speech in distraction”)—a point that brings us to our topic here.
On the Difference Between Haredim and the RZ Public: The Ills of “Hardalism”
I will begin with a passage that made me write this column. Within the article, Yifrach brings the following words:
“For the average Haredi, there is only one scale by which to assess whether you are a good Jew: how much Gemara you learn, the quality of your scholarship, the level of your observance of the commandments. He cannot imagine a conception that has two scales. He cannot grasp that there is a yeshiva student who prays with devotion because he reads poetry, and that military service is a realization of an authentic Jewish value. And there is nothing to be done: up against the Haredi scale—the Mizrachnikim will always lose. The Zionist yeshivot—in the hours when they study Gemara—do what we do, only in a far less serious manner. Your rabbis acknowledge this superiority. There is no Zionist rabbi who will erase the Haredi Gedolei HaDor.”
This passage is instructive. Beyond the essential value question of what is truly most important (scholarship and mitzvot versus other matters), note the factual assumption so deeply embedded in them, as if it were self-evident. They all (including Yehuda Yifrach himself, of course, who did not think to comment on it) have internalized well the Haredi propaganda according to which Haredim engage in scholarship, they are professionals, whereas the “Mizrachnikim” are at best amateurs whose concern is devotion and poetry, civic engagement, military service, and self-sacrifice (and the meticulous, like Yifrach’s interviewees, add: “which is certainly worthy of appreciation”). Their attitude toward RZ rabbis is roughly like ours toward Reform rabbis.
It cannot be denied that communities that do not engage in halacha and study—certainly Reform but also some Orthodox—appoint rabbis and rebbetzins who are evaluated on other planes, unrelated to learning. Those who can speak, quote Tanakh, play beautifully and stir hearts, deliver sermons and preach ethics, quote poets and authors, and tell and explain the aggadot of Hazal. Rabbis are evaluated by charisma and pastoral ability, by understanding and empathy for the community, and less by scholarly level. I am not saying a congregational rabbi need be a superb scholar, nor that the aforementioned traits are unimportant; but this colors the conception of “greatness in Torah” in general (see my article on this). Unfortunately, this illness of cheapening the title “rabbi” has penetrated deeply into the Religious-Zionist camp as well, where everyone receives the title “rabbi” by virtue of various merits (some indeed praiseworthy), but they cut corners on scholarship and classic halachic-Torah knowledge. Therefore this public rightly gets hit by Haredi criticism.
If I return to the description from the article, the latter part is certainly correct: additional planes beyond scholarship are worthy of appreciation. Mitzvot and good deeds, ethics, the ability to deliver and speak, and so forth—all these are fine and important virtues. But these do not come in place of knowledge and scholarship, only in addition to them. Yet here I arrive at the point that it is precisely the former part that upsets me more. Clearly a Judaism of scholarship alone is distorted and flawed, and such Torah is not worth much. But the assumption that the Haredi model reflects “greatness in Torah” in the scholarly sense is also distorted. I argue that there is distortion even on the factual plane that appears in the article, namely that the Gedolei Torah are Haredi (as in Erez’s claim at the start). In my view, the RZ—and particularly the Hardal—inferiority complex is at play here, whereby it is clear that the real Gedolei Torah are Haredi. No one dares to question this “fact.” Well, except me (the heretic), of course.
The root of the problem is the model of greatness in Torah. Again, I am not speaking about the need for deeds beyond learning and observance in the Haredi, narrow sense. That is self-evident. To call Haredi life “meticulous observance of mitzvot” is a joke, since some of the most important mitzvot and moral values are trampled there in a disgraceful manner, and the desecration of God’s name that results drags down to the abyss any shred of value there is in their deeds and learning. As the prophet already said: “Why do I need your many sacrifices?” But here our subject is greatness in Torah in its direct sense. I want to dispute even that.
The Hardal model of greatness in Torah is borrowed from the Haredim. They can declare marvelous and broad statements from Rav Kook until tomorrow. But at the end of the day, deeply embedded within them are the narrow Haredi concepts of greatness in Torah. Their model is essentially the Haredi model, and it is no wonder that in that arena they lose. No one can be more Haredi than the Haredim. If you compete on their field, you lose. One cannot compare the number of scholars and the scope of scholarship between the two worlds. The Haredim invest all their energy, their best people and talent in this, and of course trample everything else. As it is said: “I was never defeated except by a master of one craft.” Therefore the Hardal inferiority complex is so deep—and rightly so. You cannot be more Haredi than the Haredim. When the competition is on their field, you will certainly lose. Incidentally, hence the disgraceful cooperation of the Hardalim with Haredim and their distortions, as we have seen in recent years in the political arena. The discourse, of course, leans on respect for those with different positions and their spiritual and rabbinic leadership (nahara nahara u-pashtei), closeness to “our brothers” in Torah and mitzvot, and other honey-dripping slogans. But fundamentally lies a very deep inferiority complex born of their model of greatness in Torah.
In my eyes, incidentally, this is the deepest attack that “Hardalism” inflicts on the RZ conception and public. The implicit adoption and entrenchment of Haredi standards as the ideal model (despite minor declarations to the contrary), as you can see in Yifrach’s article—both among the interviewees and the interviewer. Hence, of course, any other model is seen as “lite,” as Mizrachnik amateurism. The Hardalim try with all their might to imitate Haredi devotion to Torah, the narrowing of Torah (along with hatred and dismissal of academia, for example), while at the margins there is a controlled and cautious engagement in the “white Shas” of Rav Kook (and for the meticulous, also in Emunat Iteinu of Rabbi Tau, the writings of Rabbi Tzvi Yehuda, etc.). Well, no one is perfect.
I have recounted here in the past that after a period when we lived in Bnei Brak, I developed the feeling that a rabbi with a knitted kippah cannot truly be a scholarly figure. It was clear to me that each of them could sit in my class and learn something about scholarship. It took me a very long time to free myself from these inferiority feelings and from clinging to external markers like modern Hebrew, reliance on common sense, non-Torah sources, and the like. None of these necessarily indicate that you are not a scholar. In the end, the process I describe in this column led me to the opposite conclusion. These are conditions for greatness in Torah.
As I wrote in response to Erez’s words, in my view the situation is the reverse: there are almost no Haredi Gedolei Torah. A lad could count them. To understand why, I must describe my model of greatness in Torah. And I stress again: I am not speaking of greatness in character traits, devotion, mitzvot, and good deeds. My concern here is greatness in Torah—who is a talmid hacham. My claim is that the Haredi (and by extension the Hardal) model of greatness in Torah is crooked and distorted.
Who Is a Gadol in Torah: Three Additional Features
As noted, no one disputes that in the Haredi world there are many more people who master all the treasures of the Ketzos HaChoshen, Reb Chaim, and the Rashba. Some are people with excellent analytical abilities whose general lectures are a pleasure to hear. There are poskim there with complete command of the halachic literature in its branches. This is the figure of the scholar and the posek in the Haredi model. But is this the full realization of the concept “greatness in Torah”? I emphasize that what follows is written out of deep appreciation for these abilities, and out of deep disagreement with the cheapening of the title “rabbi” and distributing it to people who are not endowed with such knowledge and abilities—rabbis and rebbetzins whose scholarly ability is roughly like that of a third-year yeshiva student. But precisely from such a view one must beware the opposite error: seeing these skills as the entirety of greatness in Torah.
In my view, greatness in Torah must certainly include knowledge and scholarly skill and analytical ability. But beyond that, it must include at least three more things (which are interrelated): common sense, good familiarity and understanding of the world, and reasonable literacy in other disciplines (certainly recognition of and respect for them). These three are greatly lacking in those whom the Haredim call “Gedolei Torah.” On the contrary, from their perspective a reasonable measure of these is not an advantage but a disadvantage; it shows that such a “Gadol” is not truly immersed in Torah. A Gadol in their view should be cloistered in a room full of faded brown and black books in Rashi script, with gold lettering on the cover: Darkei Yechiel, Nachalat Mahalalel, Birkat HaZevach, Ta’alulei Mechuyal, and the like. They must be written in archaic language, neither sharp nor clear, and Heaven forbid to use modes of thought not handed down from our ancient teachers. And if they peek at another book—only under the table where no one knows, and certainly never to make any use of it.
You will forgive me if I do not bring sources and citations here—from the Rambam on Ma’aseh Bereishit and Merkavah, through the Gra on the need to master the seven wisdoms, and so on. Why do I need a verse? Reason suffices! I don’t even think those wisdoms are merely “spices and cooks” for Torah. In my view, they have intrinsic value. In Brisker terminology, I have often distinguished between “Torah in the person”—the totality of the wisdoms, including aggadah, ethics, and thought—and “Torah in the object”—study of halacha and Talmudic analysis in halachic sugyot. Haredi Torah is indeed Torah in the object—the core of the concept “Torah”—and it is important not to mix it with other fields. But as I have explained, this division does not necessarily reflect a difference in importance but in essence (whether the value of study is objective or subjective). It is hard to elaborate here; I have written at length elsewhere about the root of the matter.
In Column 655, I discussed the traits of Haredi thinking, both about the world and about study (see Column 680 on how the Haredi duality and detachment from common sense begins in their Torah study and from there moves to worldly matters and general ideas). At times you will find logical arguments there whose conclusions indeed follow formally from their premises. Haredim examine an argument or scholarly construction by its coherence, but look less at whether it holds water from the standpoint of common sense. In their eyes, contradiction to common sense is even a virtue, for “the opinion of householders is the opposite of the opinion of Torah.” Any idiot in the street can state common-sense notions, but absurd ideas based on valid arguments are the skill of “Gedolei Torah.”
I have previously cited the words of Rabbi Benny Lau, who said that a Rosh Yeshiva delivers his lectures before an audience of brilliant students who scrutinize the consistency of the structures he presents. But they are too young to tell him “this doesn’t make sense.” Thus is created an ideology that produces a Torah detached from common sense and sound reason—a Torah that anyone looking from the outside understands is not “our wisdom and understanding in the eyes of the nations.” And the rabbinic leadership is the one that excels in this detached thinking. This has become the model of greatness in Torah.
Detachment from other fields of knowledge leads to a lack of conceptual clarity in the yeshiva world. The habit of defining concepts and analyzing them a priori before using them in scholarly constructions is a blessed academic habit that has not penetrated the yeshiva world. Much of the analytical pilpul could be avoided and clarified were we to precede it with conceptual analysis. It also places the scholarly idea you are dealing with in a broader context with implications in other disciplines. Thus clarity is achieved, coherence of thought, and greater depth. The technical pilpul gains flesh, skin, and sinews, and ceases to be a detached logical structure. I dealt with all this in my lectures on conceptual analysis (see for example here).
A General Note
Before I continue, I must sharpen an important point. Clearly ascetic greatness cloistered in four cubits of faded books is also very important. This is a possible and important model of greatness in Torah, and I do not come to deny it. On the contrary, in my view it is important that there be such people and to encourage their growth. Here I wish to argue three claims: 1) This is not the only model of greatness in Torah. 2) Such a Gadol must not be given roles and authority of leadership. 3) In many cases, a Gadol of this type lacks common sense and breadth of horizon, which harms even his rulings and scholarship in the narrow sense. If these are lacking, it is hard to truly regard him as a Gadol in Torah. On these matters, see here a clip from my conversation with Roi Yozevitch, Column 163, Column 139, and the article on two models of the rabbi, and more.
Example: What Is a Plague?
One of the clearest examples of the limitations of narrow greatness is the criminal conduct of R. Chaim Kanievsky and his flock during COVID-19 (my conversation with Yozevitch above was held in its wake). I am not dealing here with whether there is an obligation to obey the law, nor whether the doctors’ guidelines were necessarily correct. I am also not talking about R. Chaim’s “holy spirit” and whether in the end he was proven right. Here I am talking solely about the narrow approach that led to the problematic decisions he made for the Haredi public at large, and the terrible desecration of God’s name they caused.
I can surmise that when R. Chaim came to decide on opening educational institutions during the pandemic, he examined the matter with the halachic-Torah tools he was accustomed to using. I am not speaking about the fact that the approach to a plague is influenced by Scripture and Talmud, which see it as divine punishment, the main way to cope with which is prayer and study (yes, yes—there is also “hishtadlut,” of course). According to this, it is no wonder that precisely during a plague one must not cancel children’s Torah study, no?! But here I address a different aspect.
If you check the Talmudic definition of a plague, you will find it in Ta’anit 19a:
What is considered an epidemic? A city that sends out five hundred [able-bodied] footmen and three dead are taken from it on three consecutive days—this is an epidemic; fewer than that is not an epidemic.
And so rules the Rambam, Hilkhot Ta’aniyot 2:5:
As for an epidemic—what is an epidemic? A city that has five hundred able-bodied men and three dead are taken from it on three consecutive days—this is an epidemic. If they die on one day or over four days, it is not an epidemic. If it has a thousand and six dead are taken over three consecutive days—this is an epidemic. If on one day or over four days, it is not an epidemic. And so proportionally. Women, children, and elderly men retired from work are not counted among the city’s men for this matter.
And in the Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chaim 576:2:
And similarly for an epidemic: what is an epidemic? A city that has five hundred able-bodied men and three dead are taken from it on three consecutive days—this is an epidemic. If on one day or over four days, it is not an epidemic. If it has a thousand and six dead are taken over three days consecutively—this is an epidemic. If on one day or over four days, it is not an epidemic; and so proportionally. Women, children, and elderly men retired from work are not counted among the city’s men for this. If there is an epidemic in Eretz Yisrael, the other diasporas fast for them (and specifically if it is throughout the whole, not part) (Ran, ch. 3 of Ta’anit). If there is an epidemic in a province, and caravans go to and from it to another province, both fast even if they are far from each other.
We have clear numerical criteria by which to determine whether there is an epidemic. Without entering how sharp or binding this is, it is very plausible that this would be the basis guiding the typical Haredi posek in deciding such questions.
However, I surmise that R. Chaim, like other Haredi poskim, had never heard of the concept of an “exponential process.” A plague is such a process, and therefore its growth rate is not really grasped by one unversed in the matter. To illustrate, I will bring an example I once heard (I have brought it before). Think of a very large sheet of paper. You fold it and its thickness doubles. Fold again, and it quadruples, and so on. How many times must one fold such a sheet so that its thickness reaches from the earth to the moon?… Well, the answer is not a million billion times, nor even a thousand. It is forty folds. Note: forty (!!!) folds of a sheet one millimeter thick bring us to a thickness approximately the distance from the earth to the moon. Just to give a feel: the last fold (after 39 folds) adds another half of the distance from earth to the moon (it doubles the thickness, thus getting us to the moon). Exponential processes are very surprising. They begin slowly: another millimeter and another millimeter. But very quickly you get to an addition of kilometers and millions of kilometers in a single fold.
Now consider a plague in which on day one one person dies. So too on day two. On day three, two people die. All these are fluctuations around an exponential process which, if not monitored immediately, will very quickly produce thousands and hundreds of thousands of dead every hour. The criterion of “how many die each day” is in no way relevant to such processes. Diagnosing them is difficult and requires expertise (and even that does not always succeed, as we saw with COVID), and understanding their significance requires minimal familiarity with mathematical calculations. Therefore, one unfamiliar with exponential processes cannot make decisions in such questions.
This is not merely a technical matter. It is part of greatness in Torah. Understanding the world, familiarity with other disciplines, or at least awareness of problems and readiness to consult, to know whom to consult (hint: not Gafni and Deri), and to understand what the advisors say. This requires familiarity with and appreciation for such fields. A posek who sits cloistered in his room with the same musty books and makes decisions by “holy spirit” without consulting can bring disaster. But beyond the outcomes, here I claim first and foremost that he rules halacha incorrectly. It is not only a practical problem and a danger; it calls into question his greatness as a halachic decisor.
Further Halachic Examples
Consider a halachic question about forming a minyan over Zoom. I have previously written that in my opinion it is possible to combine into a minyan people who are in a shared Zoom meeting, even if physically they are in different and far-flung places. The reason is that such an encounter is considered as being in the same place, i.e., a site (makom). It is not for nothing that a “place” on the web is called a “site,” since those in it feel a shared presence, just as do those in the same room. One can, of course, argue with this claim, but one who has never experienced this cannot understand it. You cannot pose such a question to R. Chaim Kanievsky or to Rav Elyashiv, because they lack the tools to understand it and answer it.
The same holds for questions concerning women’s status in synagogue or generally. Consider a question about attending a performance by a female singer. A typical Haredi posek will surely forbid it out of hand. Even if the questioner explains that he enjoys the musical quality of her singing, that posek will surely dismiss it and think that he is just trying to find a heter. To that posek it is obvious that the desire has a sexual component; otherwise, why would someone want to listen specifically to a woman singer? He has never heard a woman sing and does not understand the musical value people see in such singing. Therefore, in his view listening to a woman singer is certainly a desire to arouse forbidden thoughts.
So too regarding a question about a woman being called to the Torah, or even whether to allow her to deliver a dvar Torah (what is the problem with that at all?). A posek who will address such a question must understand the situation, understand the significance of the matter for the woman and the community, and a typical Haredi posek has no way to answer such a question because he does not understand the situation. In principle, he could do so if he were attentive to the questioner’s words and descriptions and gave him credit that he is not merely seeking a heter but describing things as they are.
I do not intend to claim that every posek unfamiliar with a situation is disqualified from judging it. I refer to extreme unfamiliarity, namely a situation far from the posek’s world (see my article here). Beyond that, he must be willing to listen and to evaluate the situation through the eyes of the questioner. In such cases, I very much doubt you will find this among conservative poskim. Their very conservatism and closedness do not allow them to consider such arguments seriously, even when there is room for such considerations.
A Haredi posek will sometimes completely ignore the needs of people in his own community. Poskim who forbid women to drive, or yeshiva boys to travel during intersession and to learn to drive, to attend (Haredi male) music evenings, and the like. It seems they are entirely detached from understanding the needs and atmosphere, and they impose an impossible burden on their flock. This reflects detachment from understanding the Haredi world itself.
Many more examples can be found. One might argue that it is unreasonable to demand that every posek be familiar with every situation he judges. My claim is that there is no such demand, though it is fitting to be familiar with common situations (like using computers and the internet) and certainly situations in the Haredi world itself. In any case, he must be willing to listen to those who live that situation and to take their descriptions into account.
To the same extent, it is important that a posek who makes public and political decisions (like those guiding the Haredi parties) understand how a state is run (as opposed to a community)—a point sorely lacking in Haredi rabbinic leadership. It appears that poskim do not understand the difference. You can see this in the arguments for exempting Haredim from conscription (see, for example, the absurd discussion here). Haredim argue that there is currently no real danger, since there are enough soldiers to handle the problems (and if not, they should draft Hesder students during yeshiva periods, or further extend compulsory service and reserve duty—just as our reckless government, run by Haredim, in fact did). And what if a real danger arises of a multi-front war? Well, then we’ll enlist. They completely ignore the terrible burden on reservists and its economic and social ramifications. They ignore that a modern army cannot operate by drafting when there is danger. We are not in biblical times; when the enemies are at the gates, we cannot then recruit people and train them for modern warfare. These arguments are not only those of rank-and-file kollel men. I am quite sure their leaders see things this way too. They do not understand how to run a state, nor the difference between it and a community. In their minds they are still in Warsaw or Vilna.
Failures in Narrow-Minded Scholarship
All these are failures in halachic decision-making. A Gadol in Torah who is mandated with leadership and halachic rulings must certainly be evaluated by these parameters as well. But what about the scholar (Rosh Yeshiva)? He gives lectures and writes scholarly works, but is not a posek and does not rule in practice. Is there a problem of narrowness for him? I think there are also flaws and defects in the scholarship of narrow-minded rabbis. Broader and deeper understanding of sugyot is achieved by those whose horizons are wider. The scholarly depth and breadth of perspective are affected by familiarity with logic, history, philosophy, psychology, economics, and other sciences and wisdoms—each according to his inclinations and skills. Again, the intent is not that a scholar must be expert in all wisdoms. That is almost impossible. But he must have some footing, understanding, recognition, and appreciation of them. Unlike halachic decision-making (as in an exponential epidemic), here even consulting experts will not help, since usually there is no concrete question he himself will recognize as demanding consultation.
I think there are several examples on this site of scholarly thinking nourished by ties to other disciplines. Let us take two examples. Consider the kal va-chomer of “included in two hundred is one hundred.” A regular kal va-chomer derives conclusions from a strict/lenient relationship between two contexts. For example, in Mishnah Bava Kamma 24b we learn that a horn is liable in the victim’s courtyard by a kal va-chomer from tooth and foot. Such a kal va-chomer can be refuted by counter-arguments showing that horn is not necessarily stricter than tooth and foot, or that the victim’s courtyard is not necessarily easier to obligate than the public domain. But there is another type, called “included in two hundred is one hundred,” which several Aharonim assume cannot possibly be refuted. For example: “If one is liable for opening [a pit], all the more so for digging.” Opening a pit obligates the owner to pay for damage caused in it. So one who dug the entire pit and not only opened it is certainly liable. Here the relation between opening and digging is not only stringency/leniency but inclusion: every digging includes within it opening, and therefore all the laws of opening must certainly apply to digging as well. As noted, some Aharonim believe that a kal va-chomer of this type cannot be refuted, since it is not a relation of stringency but of inclusion. But in Column 318 I showed that this is not so. Philosophical understanding, generalization, and a broader view that sees also legal and scientific dimensions can help the learner understand this.
Another example is concepts of authority. In several places I have distinguished between two different concepts: formal authority and substantive authority. Substantive authority is the authority of an expert; it arises from the fact that he likely knows more and is more skilled than I in that field, and therefore is probably correct. Formal authority is authority granted to a person or institution based on who they are, like the authority of the Knesset or of the Holy One Blessed be He. Many entanglements in sugyot of authority arise because people do not distinguish between these two types. Among other things, the authority of the Talmud is presented as a result of the Amoraim’s spiritual charisma and supreme abilities (each could revive the dead). The need for such rationales indicates that people think it is substantive authority (the sages of the Talmud cannot err). But the truth is that their authority is formal, not substantive. And the proof is the many errors found in the Talmud, not only in scientific and mathematical matters. Another pitfall deriving from the failure to distinguish is attributing the authority of “lo tasur” to the sages of our generation—based, of course, on the “da’at Torah” they have.
These are, of course, two random examples among very many. Thus, for instance, analyzing the Rambam and Ramban’s disputes in the first two shorashim must be done with awareness of the legal implications of the two approaches, yet in the (very sparse) literature interpreting the Shorashim you will not find this. The entire book Yishlach Shoreshav is full of scholarly ramifications from other fields of knowledge for understanding the Rambam’s meaning in the Shorashim. We have not yet spoken of understanding the methods and rules of derash—especially the logical rules (kal va-chomer, binyan av, and the refutations against them). Logical analysis of these rules resolves many difficulties that the average scholar has no way to cope with. Economic knowledge can, of course, be very helpful for understanding sugyot such as those in “Perek HaZahav” (about money and goods and the meanings of various transactions—see Columns 522–525), for understanding the scholarly concept of “chalut” (see my article here), for understanding the meanings of various clashes between halachic rules (like “a positive commandment overrides a negative one,” etc.) and moral rules, the analysis of halacha-and-ethics sugyot, issues of probabilistic evidence (226, 228), of the different kinds of majority rules, such as kavua (several columns on this site), and much more.
In many sugyot, scholars make analytical calculations and build tall and complex structures describing the positions in the sugya, whereas a preliminary conceptual analysis would have saved a substantial part of the work, and placing the matter in a broader context would illuminate it brilliantly (see the lecture series on conceptual analysis).
Some Complementary Remarks
In general, as I understand it, greatness in Torah is no different from any other field in its nature. It is specialization in a disciplinary field like any other. There are two main differences from other fields:
- Scope. Greatness in Torah requires, beyond mastery of the material itself and the skills of analysis and synthesis, also intellectual greatness that is as multi-disciplinary as possible (I mentioned earlier several fields that may be important, but in principle any field may be). While broad intellectual horizons are a value in themselves beyond greatness in Torah, they do not necessarily contribute to the specific disciplinary field one engages in (sometimes they do). The statement that someone is great in Torah has a different meaning and weight than the statement that he is a great mathematician.
- The more essential difference is not in the nature of greatness but in the following questions:
- How important it is to be great in Torah as opposed to greatness in another field. Greatness in Torah is a value, while greatness in another field is less so (if at all). At the very least, one is value in the object and the other in the subject.
- In Torah study it is important to apply what one learns (“to learn in order to perform”) and to conclude with practical conclusions (“study that leads to action”). A mathematician is not a triangle, and this does not harm his mathematical quality, but a talmid hacham must apply his Torah, and if he does not, that is a defect.
Here I will only note that I do not mean to claim that the goal of study is application, i.e., that learning has only instrumental value. On the contrary, greatness in Torah is a value in itself, not the creation of a living encyclopedia whose purpose is to help fulfill halacha. The very holding of Torah and delving into it is a value of its own. See Column 479 and my article here.
One practical ramification of this picture is that there is no added value to studying the laws of Shabbat over studying Kodashim and Taharot. Both should be studied aliba de-hilchata in this sense. As I understand it, intellectual pilpul in Torah is the very essence of the matter and of greatness in Torah—except that pilpul must be done properly, broadly, and from deep horizons, with common sense, and concluding in practical outcomes.
In a WhatsApp discussion I held on this matter, the statement of the late R. Avraham Shapira was raised—that a Gadol in Torah is one who can permit agunot. I replied that in my opinion the release of agunot is not the most complex field in halacha. It is no more complex than issur ve-heter, the laws of damages and Choshen Mishpat, and the like. It has that reputation because of the heavy responsibility borne by those who engage in it, i.e., because of the significant implications for women (it is roughly like saying that medicine is the smartest and most complex science—nothing could be further from the truth. There too the responsibility is heavy, but the depth and complexity are hardly prominent compared to other sciences, to put it mildly. A doctor is a mechanic of a complex machine with weight and value). I added that even in the field of permitting agunot, it is not a matter of halachic knowledge in the narrow sense. Understanding the world is very important; common sense no less; and even statistical and scientific understanding (see Columns 612–614).
Conclusion
As I wrote above, this column is not meant to undermine the greatness of people who devote themselves to Torah study and are cloistered in their four cubits of halacha. My claims are that such greatness is not suitable for public leadership (contrary to the myth that devotion to Torah leads a man to the right answers even without familiarity with the world and the relevant fields of knowledge), that it comes to propose other models of greatness, and also to argue that this model in many cases is lacking, mainly because of three things: unfamiliarity with the world, unfamiliarity with other fields of knowledge, and a lack of common sense. These matters are sharpened all the more in our time, when the weight of Torah knowledge diminishes and the weight of all these rises (until GPT arrives and empties even that of content).
All these deficiencies are not offset by encyclopedic knowledge and analytical pilpulim. I write this as one who highly appreciates these abilities. Rabbis who lead their flocks in such a detached and childish way are not Gedolei Torah—at least not in the relevant sense. These are children with impressive analytical abilities. My aim in this column was to break this infantile model and the unjustified inferiority feelings toward it. For this reason, I insist on not playing the honor games toward the leaders of all Haredi and conservative streams. This entrenches that inferiority complex and embeds it among Haredim and Religious-Zionists alike.
The assumption that total focus is a necessary condition for greatness in Torah may be correct, but it is a necessary (and not entirely so) and certainly not a sufficient condition. Knowing the world—including literature, thought, and science—is a very important component of greatness in Torah. This, of course, does not require every posek or scholar to earn an academic degree (though in my view it is very desirable), but to know, to be conversant, and to appreciate—most definitely yes.
In conclusion, I now propose to re-examine the assumption that most Gedolei Torah are Haredi. This depends, of course, on your model of greatness in Torah, but I think that by the parameters presented here, the answer will be entirely different from the prevailing answer that takes for granted the Haredi-conservative model.
Discussion
I’m not getting into nuances, but the general description is correct. Rabbi Kalner is just recycling Rabbi Kook’s slogans. The question is what happens in practice, not what is declared in writings. The fact is that an intense inferiority complex has developed toward the Haredim. And that is true in Eli just as in Har HaMor.
I won’t fall off my chair if the aforementioned Erez is a Haredi troll. It’s just hard for me to believe that the worldview of an average hesder yeshiva guy could fall apart because of such a poor cluster of arguments.
Thank you for the column.
Still, regarding the Religious-Zionist inferiority feelings, it may be that they are justified: true, Religious-Zionist rabbis have the additional components of greatness, but in the end they still lack a great deal relative to the Haredim in terms of Torah knowledge and breadth, which you emphasized and re-emphasized as being a significant condition in your view as well.
Am I right?
Completely. But there is no need whatsoever to feel inferior. A jack of many trades will always be weaker in one trade than his fellow who practices only that one trade.
You mentioned the Vilna Gaon, who said one needs to know the seven sciences, [and admittedly that is not the main point of the column,] but did the Vilna Gaon himself, and other great figures in the past who were not called “Haredi,” not sit cloistered together with faded books, etc.?
As for the matter itself, one should add that a judge on the Sanhedrin had to know seventy languages, and be proficient even in sorcery,
As a Haredi, I agree with much of the criticism of a narrow and fearful way of thinking, each person frightened of the other’s shadow. In general, I agree with much of what you say, and at the same time I strongly disagree with many of your ideas. Allow me to express my feelings, Rabbi Michi: it is very hard with you, and hard without you.
In my opinion these things are true mainly of Israeli Haredism. Abroad one can see greater openness to external wisdom among the rabbis, and also among foreign rabbis such as R. Asher Weiss, who are not detached from common sense at all, and at the same time implement very well the Haredi rabbinic model of being enclosed within the four cubits of Torah and halakhah.
I do not know what the Vilna Gaon knew, but I assume that if he demanded something, he practiced it himself. If his books were faded, then probably yes. That was how it was then for everyone. So what?
According to the model you drew, do you see yourself as a great Torah scholar?
If so, that somewhat lowers the credibility of the conclusion, because maybe it is affected by personal bias…
“When the competition is in their marsh” – “in their field”
“Here b I want to argue” – “Here I want to argue”
More power to you.
By the way, you offended the third-year yeshiva boys when you compared them to various rabbis, male and female, …:)
I’m not well-versed in what is happening now in the Haredi yeshivot, but I do want to add that at least from my superficial impression, I do not see any exceptional new development coming from the Haredi yeshivot in recent decades. Books keep coming out endlessly, but I don’t know of a book that presents a new method of learning or a unique ruling. In Thomas Kuhn’s terms, it seems that the Haredi yeshivot today deal only in “normal Talmudic scholarship,” expanding more and more what is already known and applying it to increasingly esoteric details, but without paradigm shifts like those made by R. Chaim of Brisk, R. Shimon Shkop, the great Hasidic masters, the Shulchan Arukh, the Rambam (and these are only examples, and I’m sure you could give many more—but I suspect you would have difficulty finding such an example from the last generation or two). By contrast, I do think that in the Religious-Zionist yeshiva world there are efforts, and even successes, to create a new kind of learning—whether by integrating academic, literary, or philosophical tools, or by a more existential mode of learning, which even if you don’t like it is still a new and often refreshing way of study. So perhaps it is not classical learning and not “lomdus” in the sense you refer to, but there is indeed an effort here to learn Torah in a new way and reveal in it unique aspects different from what existed until now. And to my impression, this is a sincere and genuine attempt to make the Torah relevant out of a true belief that it has something to teach and offer even the modern learner, male or female. I am admittedly not highly knowledgeable, but from my impression not only is there no such new development emerging from the Haredi yeshivot—on the contrary, it is considered a kind of heresy.
Thanks. Corrected.
You are not right. There are definitely many innovations in the Haredi world too. Masses of them. Starting with Mintzberg, continuing with the Schreiber brothers, the Inbal brothers, and more. Surely there are many others I don’t know. It’s just that all of these are considered marginal, esoteric figures, not Torah greats publicly recognized as such.
I protest this insolent and irrelevant question. If the matter is true—and it certainly is true conceptually, and you are welcome to study the wonderful columns and convince yourself—then what does it matter how he sees himself? It could very well be that he thought this from the outset and therefore aspired to it, and even if not, again, what does it matter? On the substance of the issue he is right, and you are welcome to present an opposing argument rather than raise insolent and foolish objections.
I don’t know these people deeply, but what are the innovations, say, of the Inbal brothers? Aren’t they the ones who founded the Arachim organization? It doesn’t seem like a particularly innovative organization… (maybe relative to the primitive part of the Haredi world that prohibits any engagement with science at all).
Sounds a bit hasty and question-begging, no? “I don’t know who x is, but what could he possibly have innovated? (After all, he’s Haredi, and they don’t have innovations.)” And no, they are not connected to Arachim (that was their father). And no, Arachim does not deal with science. But other than that, your message is perfect.
Now I suddenly realize that you don’t know anyone on the list, not just the Inbals. Truly an impressively high ratio of ignorance to certitude.
I agree that the response really was poor, to put it mildly.
As for science, what I meant to say is that Arachim is a kind of Hidabroot-style organization that uses apologetics regarding scientific questions, but I really am not knowledgeable in this, so better that I not speak about it.
In any case, regarding the list the rabbi gave of innovators in the Haredi sector: aside from the Schreiber brothers (whose method, as noted, I do not know personally in depth, though I have heard about them from various acquaintances and read about them on Wikipedia), whose innovations deal mainly with the analytical Talmudic side, the Inbal brothers’ innovations are more on the level of thought. Are there innovations / intellectual openness among the Haredim that are not already found among the broader Religious-Zionist public?
For example, Rabbi Feivelson is considered innovative and revolutionary in the Haredi public (some excommunicated him over his statement that the verse “an eye for an eye” originally meant literally, and Hazal interpreted it differently).
A few comments, not always important:
A. Stringency in what characterizes Judaism presumably has greater value as a measure of attachment to Judaism than stringency in matters of moral commandments and ethics (which can be a Christian characteristic no less than a Jewish one).
B. Regarding an exponential process—just to be precise: they will ask you, “Did the Gemara not know this? After all, it’s simple logic.” Perhaps what is implicit in its words is that until you see the process in a clearly discernible way, the case is not defined as a plague. Your real answer is that the Gemara too was not aware of this, and the matter is similar to cases that today are known to involve danger to life, whereas in the past people did not know that.
C. I understand that there is also a side that would prohibit seclusion over Zoom (if legally one can debate whether it is a fence due to concern, or an independent prohibition)?
D. It is highly doubtful that the leaders really think that in a time of distress we will draft kollel men from Brisk and put them on a plane. The considerations are completely different, and are symbolized much more by the folktales of Yankele and the nobleman. There is no option of helping the nobleman.
E. It is very true that detachment and ignorance damage the quality of halakhic ruling and the quality of the person, but some would argue that in distortions such as those you pointed out, there is less concern that they will become entrenched forever than in the mirror image of pleasant, charismatic rabbis who are ignorant of halakhah. That forgetfulness of Torah would be much harder to repair. In addition, the damage would affect the more religious core, as opposed to the human damage inherent in the Haredi method.
F. After all, the basis of greatness in Torah, I think even in your view, is excellent and sophisticated mastery of the halakhic material.
A. It is not a question at all of what is more important. Nor is it true that the particular is necessarily more important. And in general, regarding the saying that it is better to fail in baseless love than in baseless hatred, I usually respond that it is better not to fail in either.
B. Obviously the Gemara didn’t know either. But I do not blame it for that. Nobody knew. But a posek and leader in our time should be familiar with existing knowledge and act accordingly—even if he adopts your interpretation of the Gemara in order to act correctly.
C. Highly doubtful. There is no practical concern here, and in my opinion even if it is an independent prohibition it is far-fetched to forbid it.
D. The mere fact that such arguments are raised is enough, even if that is not really what motivates them.
E. See about the dichotomy in section A.
F. Likewise.
Just an anecdote.
Some time ago it was publicized—and not for the first time—that students from Eli were hosted by Vizhnitz in Bnei Brak for Shabbat. I thought it was a nice idea, on condition that it be reciprocal.
Can the rabbi give an example of an innovation in the Haredi world? (I mean an innovation in matters of “hashkafah,” not on the analytical/Talmudic side, where there is certainly an abundance, more than in the Religious-Zionist public.)
No. I’m not interested in that. I don’t know how to point to innovations even in learning, because I’m not familiar. But I know there are some.
But if we’ve gotten to the point that there are more analytical innovations there than in the Religious-Zionist public—again, a claim I don’t know what it is based on and which contradicts your previous statements—then we’ve already accomplished something.
We heard one of the Schreiber brothers’ innovations at the beginning of the war.
Two supplementary comments:
1. I would also add that in yeshivot they do not bother to check textual variants when studying the Gemara or the Rambam, which often renders a lot of pointless pilpul unnecessary.
2. In my opinion this approach to Torah study is part of the broader Lithuanian approach that the Torah (mainly the Gemara) is something beyond us, something divine and heavenly that is beyond human grasp. Thus, precisely this detachment that is sometimes created by this mode of study, which you described, contributes even more to that outlook. There is also the general alienation from the ways of academia (which in my opinion also prevents engagement in searching for variant readings), but I do not think that is the main point. This idea that the Torah is so heavenly, and not like the other forms of wisdom (for some reason, by the way), makes Torah study more precious in their eyes. I once heard a saying that R. Chaim took the frying pans out of the laws of issur ve-heter and put in only legal categories. This abstraction and detachment—which for others might bring alienation—among them is what elevates the Torah on high. The Torah is above everything; it dictates reality, and heaven forbid that the Torah should be shaped by reality or need to engage with reality in any way. It preceded the world (“He looked into the Torah and created the world”). And therefore, whenever there is a conflict between the two, reality is nullified before the Torah. Hence there is also no place to bring in external methods from outside the Gemara in order to analyze it. By the way, they then project this approach into ethics as well (as in the Brisker Rav’s statement that precisely because the Torah prohibited “You shall not murder,” murder harms the world, etc.), but that is another subject already.
I found a quotation in the name of Rabbi Edelstein that vividly illustrates this point:
“When there is a line of reasoning in the Gemara or in the Rishonim that is not understandable, this is not a deficiency on our part, for understanding the Gemara and the Rishonim is not understanding according to our terms, and not everything can be understood. One who thinks he understands all the reasonings in the Gemara has a very crooked head, for it is impossible to understand everything. Therefore, when one does not understand the reasoning of the Gemara, one should not dwell on it too much; that it seems to go against common sense is no wonder, for we are not Amoraim. To linger in trying to understand difficult reasonings of the Gemara is not for us, and thus all the great ones grew. Whoever has straight sense sees that there are many things that are not understood. This is correct and trustworthy advice for anyone who wants to become a lamdan.”
Thank you, Rabbi.
An incident (firsthand) that occurred as follows.
A brain surgeon who was required to perform a medical procedure on a person’s brain on Shabbat asked a Haredi rabbi about it, and the rabbi replied that it should be done “with a change” [in an unusual manner].
When there is no brain—there is no brain.
It seems to me that this sums up the rabbi’s post.
You are mixing in ad hominem. They are both probably not great intellectuals in the sense beyond analytic Talmudics. That is an illustration of my argument in the column.
I don’t believe it. There are limits.
All right, Rabbi, we got the hint. We’re convinced that you are the leading sage of our generation.
And unrelated to the column, you wrote, “And proof of this is the several mistakes one finds in the Talmud, and not only in scientific and mathematical matters.” Do you have sources you could point me to?
All right, Rabbi, we got the hint. We’re convinced that you are the leading sage of our generation.
And unrelated to the column, you wrote, “And proof of this is the several mistakes one finds in the Talmud, and not only in scientific and mathematical matters.” Do you perhaps have sources you could point me to?
If that’s what you understood, then I’m done. From here one can only go downhill.
https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&source=web&rct=j&opi=89978449&url=https://files.daf-yomi.com/files/bookfiles/hayedihot-hamadahiyot/hayedihot-hamadahiyot.pdf&ved=2ahUKEwifqq_rkKyKAxWJTKQEHVD7HxwQFnoECBIQAQ&sqi=2&usg=AOvVaw3e9rAgwdGBzcVK1J1bEmlO
Any “requires further investigation” of the Rishonim and Acharonim can be considered a mistake, except that it is customary to treat it as a lack of understanding. And I found in the name of some Rishonim that anything in the Gemara that is not a halakhic conclusion may be mistaken, for the main thing is the practical conclusions of the discussion. Although clearly this is not the accepted approach, still, here we are on Michi’s site, where this approach is accepted, and it has earlier precedents as well.
It is not nice to write “we got the hint” – every path and opinion of any person, if he truly believes in it, he also follows it. But in truth Rabbi Michi is not suspected of self-glorification. For that he would at least have to go around in a frock coat or something of the sort. [This despite my criticism of many of his views.]
Hello Rabbi.
When you gave examples of the shortcomings of the Haredi posek, you gave several examples. One was about a plague, and afterward examples about women’s needs and the needs of yeshiva students. I don’t really understand why recognizing the need is supposed to affect the halakhah. Recognizing reality should affect matters in order to distinguish between different kinds of realities with respect to the same halakhic criterion. But why should recognizing the need affect the core halakhah? At most it is a reason for leniencies after the halakhah has been clarified where possible, but it certainly should not be a consideration in the halakhic definitions themselves. (I think I also saw that you wrote similar things in the issue of conversion.)
See my article on halakhic decision-making in extreme situations, which I linked to in the column.
An outrageously insolent column. It seems to me that according to the line of thought presented here, the author will still dare to claim that the Haredim could not become skilled fighter pilots within two weeks. This is a time of distress for Israel, and we will soon need many outstanding Torah scholars in the cockpit on their way to Iran. And from where will the finest of our pilots come, if not from Ponevezh and Mir?
The Haredi definition of greatness in Torah is in relation to the Torah giants who lived in Lithuania in recent generations, and the Lithuanian definition of greatness in Torah is based on the Vilna Gaon as the model of genius and greatness in Torah. The question is not about the Haredim, Hardalim, and Religious Zionists, but why out of dozens of methods of study specifically Lithuanian lomdus conquered the yeshivot in recent generations, and whether that is a sign of greatness or of smallness.
Simply because the Lithuanians established the yeshivot in their current format, through R. Chaim of Volozhin, a disciple of the Vilna Gaon.
According to the rabbi’s view, was Rabbi Shach the leading sage of the generation?
This sounds utopian. Do you actually know rabbis who meet the criteria you presented in the article? A real hand and foot in a variety of professions at a level beyond the layman, a deep and self-aware understanding of methods of interpretation, experience with all sorts of contemporary phenomena? The conditions you presented sound like the requirements for the sages of the Sanhedrin, and even there I would wonder whether it is realistic (to know 70 languages?! And when does one learn Torah? Study takes a great deal of time.)
When one defines greatness, one establishes the relevant axes. That does not mean there is someone who fully meets all the criteria. Even if the criterion were classical Torah knowledge, there is nobody who knows everything.
What exactly is the question, and what practical difference does it make?
Yesterday’s unbelievable is today’s reality (the Overton window).
You are forgetting a very important aspect in the Haredi outlook: “fences.”
A fence is not a Haredi invention; Hazal already spoke of it and also turned it into halakhah, as with muktzeh, for example.
The Haredi public—and I am speaking specifically of the Lithuanian one (I’m curious about your opinion on the Sephardi public and Rabbi Ovadia’s path)—was built around the struggle against the Haskalah movement, which drew many of its best sons away from the path of Judaism, and therefore fences were created and there was withdrawal within the walls of the yeshiva.
Now you can come and say that although the need arose from something essential, that does not mean the tools that were forfeited as a result do not affect the ability of a great Torah scholar to make decisions based on the other forms of wisdom that exist today.
So the Haredi outlook says that Torah wisdom contains all the other forms of wisdom.
Just as Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai sat in the cave for 13 years and wrote the Zohar, in which he also included statements about the structure of the world, even though he did not have the tools to learn those insights.
The well-known phrase is that the Holy One, blessed be He, looked into the Torah and built the world—that is, deep within the Torah lie all the secrets of the universe.
I recently heard a senior professor recount medical questions that arose during the war and were referred to Rabbi Elyashiv zt"l, who had never studied medicine, and he gave them halakhic rulings and ways of dealing with certain situations—which he did not want to detail—that are still used to this day.
Therefore, in the Haredi outlook, the deficiency of not studying foreign wisdom does not impair the ability of a great Torah scholar to rule even on matters related to it.
By contrast, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, for example, was more open in this respect, apparently also because the Mizrahi public did not close itself off against the wave of the Haskalah, and so it was more open conceptually. This truly led to halakhic disputes stemming from lack of technical knowledge, such as whether it is permissible to turn on a light on a festival according to Rabbi Mashash, who permitted it because he did not correctly understand how a switch works, whereas Rabbi Ovadia prohibited it after examining the mechanics.
To the best of my knowledge, Arachim and Ratio (both active in the Inbal family’s orbit) tend to be less pseudo-scientific than Hidabroot.
By the way, since you don’t believe it, I’ll just mention that during one of the rounds in the women’s ward in my studies (medicine), there was a woman whom the doctors said needed early delivery, and therefore induction had to begin the next day. On the morning round the following day she said she had spoken with “the rebbe” and he told her not to do the induction and that “it will be fine.” I don’t remember what happened in the end with the woman and her fetus, but when people say “an ignoramus cannot be pious—because if he is an ignoramus, he is the rebbe” – that has been tested and proven.
Do you mean the firsthand source who invented the story?
This is what happened to me on the way back from work as a result of reading the column: a synopsis for a short film. Reuven is a Haredi Lithuanian Torah scholar who studies Torah from morning till night; he has never left the kollel in which he studied. In the past he tried to find various educational positions in small yeshivot and other kollels, but failed and remained a kollel fellow. His neighbor Rabbi Shimon is a rebbe in a hesder yeshiva. He is less of a lamdan than Rabbi Reuven, but managed to secure a position as an educational rabbi in the hesder yeshiva thanks to his rhetorical abilities and charisma. The days are those of the “Swords of Iron” war. In the shared neighborhood of Reuven and Shimon, a soldier was killed in Gaza. During the shivah many comforters came, among them Reuven and Shimon. While Reuven was there to offer condolences, he got drawn into a side conversation among comforters who reviled Haredi society for not taking part in the IDF war effort. The next day Reuven returns to the kollel, and a young kollel fellow comes to him with a difficult conceptual question in the Gemara. Reuven tries with all his strength to analyze and debate the sugya, but has trouble reaching a solution. He returns home dejected, where he meets Shimon, who says he has just come back from the hospital from visiting a student wounded in the war. Reuven becomes angry inwardly and asks Shimon to come with him to his home and help him think through a sugya in the Gemara. Shimon explains that he is busy and asks to postpone until tomorrow, but Reuven presses him. They enter the safe room, which is Reuven’s study area. The light goes out. Reuven strikes Shimon forcefully, knocking him unconscious. Reuven seats him on a chair and handcuffs him. Shimon wakes up and starts shouting. Reuven says that if he does not study with him, he will murder him. Shimon is horrified, begins to cry, and begs for mercy. Reuven screams at him to be quiet. Reuven begins lecturing through the Gemara and the conceptual investigation with all the difficulties in it, and asks Shimon to resolve them for him. Shimon has difficulty thinking. Reuven screams at him that he is a stupid Mizrachi Religious-Zionist who doesn’t know how to learn, and how did he become a rebbe at all; immediately he continues attacking him and the knitted-kippah society as becoming Hellenized. Shimon cries and fears that Reuven will murder him. Reuven screams at him to think well about the Gemara if he wants to live. Shimon asks him to read the Gemara slowly to him. Reuven reads him the Gemara. Shimon listens to the words of the Gemara and asks Reuven to read Rashi to him too. Reuven finishes reading it to him. Shimon closes his eyes and begins to recite the entire Gemara together with Rashi’s words and solves all of Reuven’s difficulties. While Shimon is speaking, he slowly frees himself from the handcuffs. At the end of his explanation he rises from the chair and flees the safe room, while Reuven lies on the floor groaning and weeping.
Regarding the inability to issue rulings when detached from reality: true, you wrote that this applies only in situations of extremely poor familiarity, but I actually identify with the phenomenon even when it comes to rabbis who leave the house and know a bit of reality. When I left yeshiva (a hesder yeshiva, in fact), I felt that I was not receiving a sufficient response to halakhic questions from the roshei yeshiva staff with whom I consulted. They simply did not really understand the reality I was talking about and from what need I was coming. (For example, though this was not exactly a halakhic ruling: when I went into mixed-gender military service that required intensive work with girls around the clock, including joint projects, the rabbi told me to cut off contact with women—to be polite but distant, and not speak with them beyond the most basic need.) Do you know this phenomenon in the Religious-Zionist world as well?
Definitely.
For the betrothal of a woman.
Rabbi Uriyah Inbal definitely has innovations in his mode of learning. Possibly his brother does too, but I know him less well (he has books on Yoreh De’ah and Choshen Mishpat; I do not know whether they contain only “accepted” innovations or also innovations in the form of study).
With God’s help, 18 Kislev 5785
Two comments:
A. Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky zt"l spoke about opening educational institutions according to the framework in which they permitted grocery stores to open: in small groups, with distancing, ventilation, and masks. The logic is that educating children is no less an existential need than bread and milk, and their wandering around without an educational framework and supervision could intensify infection.
B. One might perhaps say that a posek does not need knowledge of the sciences. On the contrary: the more he comes without prior knowledge, the more attentively he will listen to the expert. And sometimes precisely arriving without prior knowledge enables him to challenge the expert with questions the expert did not think of.
With blessings, Fish"l
If so, why did the Sanhedrin have to know all the languages (cf. Mordechai the Jew), and all possible forms of wisdom in order to judge, as explained in the laws of Sanhedrin? True, a judge is different from a mere halakhic decisor, but the logic and rationale for the requirement applies to both.
It is fitting to quote the Sefer HaChinukh, commandment 491, which confirms the point that the great men of Israel should be somewhat proficient in the sciences as well.
“And one appoints to the Sanhedrin, whether great or small, only men who are wise and discerning in the wisdom of the Torah, and who also know somewhat of the other sciences, such as medicine, mathematics, astronomy, constellations, astrology, and the ways of soothsayers, diviners, and sorcerers, so that they may know how to judge the people in all these matters if the need arises.”
Regarding the Gemara about the plague, there is no need to say that our sages did not know arithmetic and how quickly a plague can spread. Rather, in their time, when someone died, they could not diagnose what caused it, and only the accumulation of deaths indicates that there is a plague here. It is not like today, when one can know already after a single hospitalized patient that a certain virus has entered the country. (I heard this explanation of the Gemara during the COVID period from a physician who is also a Torah scholar.)
Indeed, there is no need to say that our sages did not know mathematics. It is not because of any need. They simply did not know.
For some reason, it seems to you that in diagnosis and modern medicine they were weak, but in modern mathematics they were champs.
According to your approach, what caused fairly wise people such as R. Akiva Eiger and others, who regarded themselves as the lowliest of shrubs compared to several generations before them, both in wisdom and in other virtues—is that just excessive humility and self-effacement, and nothing more? Or is that only with respect to Torah greatness and not wisdom in general?
There is a difference between mathematics, even modern mathematics, which in the end is learnable even with the tools available in ancient times, because in the end it is all in the mind, whereas modern medicine is built on research and experiments, and on technological tools that did not exist.
A nice distinction. At the next kiddush in synagogue you can say it there. While you’re at it, perhaps they also have something to say about Fermat’s conjecture or Goldbach’s?
Closeness to the source indeed gives an advantage to earlier generations. Besides that, in religious education it is very hard to go against the assumption that the Rishonim were like human beings and we are like donkeys. Many said this about all fields, which only shows even more how detached from reality that thesis is.
Even if they did not speak about it explicitly because they did not deal with it, they could have reached it easily—just as surely Rabbi Michi would agree that Einstein would have known what to say about Goldbach’s conjecture and Fermat’s if he had spent a bit of time on it [assuming he didn’t deal with it; I don’t know]. Likewise with innovations in physics that Einstein or the honorable rabbi did not work on, but “he has it” – so too with Hazal, because someone who is wise in many fields [with the available tools] would solve them easily.
As for the kiddush, I’m trying to connect it to Parashat Vayeshev—perhaps in the fact that the brothers disparaged Joseph, and in the end he became king…
To correct (you added a bet):
It is a matter of extreme unfamiliarity
I apologize; I had not seen the earlier column on mathematics in halakhah, and I do not have the knowledge / time / mental space to calculate the mishnah in Mikvaot according to current tools. And certainly it is proper to ask experts and broaden one’s horizons—on that I do not disagree.
Still, I continue to think that this is a kind of mathematical innovation akin to technological innovation, and not a deficiency in the sages’ wisdom.
With God’s help, 18 Kislev 5785
To David—greetings,
In ancient times, the amount of information was small, and one could imagine that a single person might encompass all “seven sciences.” Even the Torah “bookshelf” has grown beyond measure. It is impossible for one person to encompass everything, and therefore in all fields of knowledge there is need for specialization and professionalization.
The more a person masters his own field, the more he enriches and fertilizes his fellow experts in other fields through his expertise. And his awareness of how hard it is to encompass his own area of occupation thoroughly will lead him to appreciate the expertise of his colleagues in their fields of knowledge and to listen attentively to their opinions.
And indeed, great halakhic decisors seek to receive a professional opinion from “the greatest expert,” ask questions in order to understand the reality deeply, so as to render “a true judgment in its full truth”: “true” from the side of halakhah; “in its full truth” from the side of investigating reality.
With blessings, Fish"l
The trait of humility aids greatness, for it brings a person to be “wise, learning from every person.” Therefore the Chatam Sofer explains that the halakhah was decided in accordance with Beit Hillel even though Beit Shammai were “sharper,” because they would “teach Beit Shammai’s words before their own,” thereby proving that they listened carefully even to the reasons and considerations of those who disagreed with them.
With blessings, Fish"l
Of course. That is exactly what I explicitly wrote there.
For some reason, you tend to attribute to your correspondents ridiculous thoughts that are not theirs.
I didn’t read the article, since I got back from abroad yesterday and barely have time to swallow my saliva, but I thought this might interest the rabbi and the blog’s readers: “A confession by a hesder yeshiva rosh yeshiva” and head of a rabbinical court for monetary matters in the religious public, who even received a state prize for his work on the matter.
Here are some gems from his words, and the rest can be seen in the link I attached below.
The rabbi wrote: “Instead of striking our hearts in repentance together as a public and admitting that for years in the past we sent our sons to mass suicide (!) This sounds extreme, but Hazal said it before us: ‘Greater is one who causes another to sin than one who kills him.’
Who ruled for us that it is permissible to send our sons into a secular atmosphere where ‘what can the son do and not sin’? Who took responsibility for sending sons for many years (today the situation is much better) into a mixed secular environment where ‘what for them is love is for us karet,’ when hormones are working overtime, and they are a miserable and vulnerable minority? This when Hazal instructed us, and we pray not to be brought into trial and disgrace.
Who, with a clean conscience, encouraged enlistment into Sayeret Matkal or Shayetet 13 when the rates of secularization were very high? I remember soldiers who came back with claims and in tears, wondering how I, as a hesder yeshiva rosh yeshiva, did not care about sending them into intelligence, where there is sometimes serious friction with girls and with secularization. They asked why we did not warn them about very difficult trials.”
Maybe we too need to examine ourselves as to whether we yielded to covert secular coercion under compulsion when we knowingly entered this irresponsibly?
https://www.tv2000.co.il/news/41686
And here is a link to the head of the Kiryat Malachi yeshiva on his criticism of the above person’s confession.
https://www.kikar.co.il/haredim-news/so0s68
You’re talking about enlistment—how does that relate to openness in learning?
I prefaced that I had not read the article, but at its beginning I saw this heading:
“In one of the more embarrassing threads here on the site regarding the enlistment of Haredim”
In terms of content, the points are sound. But regarding the analysis of reality, I’m no longer sure. Why doesn’t R. Asher Weiss meet this criterion (I heard him mention Shakespeare)? Rabbi Yaakov Ariel? Presumably Rabbi Dov Lior also has some familiarity with the outside world (though I don’t really know). These are two (perhaps three) central conservative halakhic decisors. Are they really not worthy in your eyes of the title “great Torah scholars”? (I do not mean at all to say they have authority, only in the context of this discussion.)
As a Haredi yeshiva guy, from my familiarity with the public, it seems to me that there is a certain development here that the rabbi does not know: Haredi thought, especially Rav Moshe Shapiro and Rav Yitzchak Hutner, who defined the need for Torah as a kind of Aristotelian cleaving to divine wisdom (I’d be interested in your view on this). This pretty much bypasses the problem the rabbi raised, at least on the private level of each individual, because there is no interest in being a great person in relation to the world; rather, the personal goal and aspiration is simply to study Torah.
And regarding what counts as “great” in the eyes of the public, the same logic works here too: no matter how accomplished a person is, he has no authority as long as he does not meet the Torah requirements of a great person. And if he also understands worldly matters, that is praiseworthy; and indeed not a few rabbis were eulogized at their funerals for understanding the younger generation, etc. (One could push this off by saying that those who were not grounded in that were eulogized for being immersed only in Torah…) But unless they are great, their authority is only local and specific, not general.
Personally, it seems to me that the problems are more the cynicism of the system and the conservatism that protects itself to the point of ridiculous claims, or the invention of baseless authority. (Hinted at in the article.)
Who said that none of those people meet those criteria? I did not refer to any concrete person, nor did I write anything sweeping. I’m also not saying that they do. I do not generally give grades to specific people except in unusual cases.
Hello Rabbi Abraham,
I read your post titled “What Is Greatness in Torah,” but I did not fully understand its conclusion:
Because seemingly what emerges from the rabbi’s words is that in fact there are no great Torah figures either here or there. Those considered great Torah scholars among the Haredim lack general education and common sense, while the Mizrachi rabbis are not at the proper analytical level. (I assume the rabbi would agree that nowadays even those considered the greatest analytical scholars in the Religious-Zionist public still do not reach the ankles, in terms of pure lomdus, of hundreds of Haredi scholars who are not even considered the leading sages of the generation among the Haredim.)
Hello.
It is not binary, and indeed there is no perfect person. Each person has his own virtues. As I wrote, the weight of knowledge in our day is less, and therefore in my view the virtues of those with education and common sense are more important.
The rabbi wrote about the Hardalim that they borrow their understanding of greatness from the Haredim. Although I do not belong to that public, I would refer the rabbi to Rabbi Yosef Kalner’s book The Criterion for Truth and Morality. He explains there that a person is greater when he is more “general,” meaning he contains more, knows more opinions and approaches, and consequently also has wisdom and understanding of the world in all respects. That is actually not so different from what the rabbi wrote in the column.
Of course there are command-like norms among the Hardalim, and they themselves are divided over who are the true continuers of the Rav zt"l, and it seems the rabbi was speaking more about yeshivot like Har HaMor and Mitzpe Ramon, which are definitely Haredi in outlook. But in places like Eli, the situation is a bit different, happily for us.