What Is Modern Orthodoxy? Between Authority and Essence (Column 477)
With God’s help
Disclaimer: This post was translated from Hebrew using AI (ChatGPT 5 Thinking), so there may be inaccuracies or nuances lost. If something seems unclear, please refer to the Hebrew original or contact us for clarification.
In the two previous columns I sketched a fairly detailed map of situations and mechanisms of halakhic change. Within that, I already hinted—at least regarding the legitimacy of those mechanisms, even if not regarding their ability to be inferred—that in my view modern Orthodoxy can and should move toward the characterization I want to propose now. Still, before that I must complete one more point: the question of authority. Until now I dealt mainly with the conceptual question of whether “conservative change” is possible (which sounds like an oxymoron). I tried to show that vis-à-vis the principle of the Torah’s eternity, change is indeed possible as long as the fundamental principle is preserved. But there is another question I have not tackled yet: namely, vis-à-vis the obligation to the Talmud (not vis-à-vis the Torah’s eternity). Here the issue is not the conceptual possibility of conservative change, but a formal halakhic question: how—and whether—it is possible to legislate against the Talmud. In the previous column I explained that the values of Hazal are not necessarily the Torah’s values, and that they wove their own values (drawn from various sources) into their interpretation of the Torah; hence there is no obstacle to our doing likewise. The obligation is to the Holy One, blessed be He, not to Hazal (except insofar as they interpret His will). Even if conceptually it is possible to disagree with them and yet remain faithful to the Torah and its Giver, there is a halakhic rule that obligates us to listen to them. I also touched on this when I distinguished between obligation to the bottom-line halakhic ruling and obligation to the underlying value structure. But the matter of authority still needs to be clarified to complete the picture.
The angle of authority: factual vs. value-based change
In prior columns I distinguished between two types of change:
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Halakhic change based on changed facts; and
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Halakhic change based on changed values.
I explained that when we deal with factual change, we are not opposing the Sages but merely applying their rules differently; whereas with value-based change, it looks like we are frontally disagreeing with them—and even if that is conceptually possible, the problem of authority arises here as well.
By way of brief introduction: Two sugyot address authority and the possibility of change in halakha. One (Beitzah 5a) states: “A matter enacted by a vote requires another vote to permit it”—meaning, if a law was decided by the Sanhedrin, changing it requires another Sanhedrin, not less. By contrast, Avodah Zarah 36a (and many parallels) says: “A court cannot annul the words of its fellow court unless it is greater than it in wisdom and in number.” From Rambam, beginning of Hilkhot Mamrim ch. 2, it emerges that he distinguishes: for de-Oraita matters the first rule applies, while for de-Rabbanan matters the second applies. That is, de-Oraita rulings decided by the Sanhedrin can be changed by a later Sanhedrin without needing to be greater in wisdom and number; but de-Rabbanan enactments can be changed only by a Sanhedrin greater in wisdom and number.
Moreover, at least for de-Rabbanan, the restricting rules apply even if the reason for the decree has lapsed. According to Rambam, even then a greater court is required; Raavad disputes this and holds it suffices to have a court by number (i.e., a Sanhedrin). Note the distinction between changed circumstances and the annulment of a decree’s reason (ta‘ama). When circumstances change such that the reason no longer applies, we might think the decree falls away; yet it appears that even halakhic change due to changed circumstances requires at least a formal court and perhaps even one greater in wisdom and number.
How does this square with what I described earlier? Conceptually a conservative change may be possible, but halakhically there seems no room—certainly for rulings decided by a Sanhedrin. Since we lack a Sanhedrin today, it would seem we cannot change or annul laws—even when circumstances have changed. And with value-based change, the difficulty is even sharper, for there we would be disagreeing halakhically with the decisors of earlier generations rather than merely applying their words to new circumstances. In the last column I argued that conceptually this is possible; but here I wonder about authority: can this be done without a Sanhedrin? I will divide the discussion into several sections, each taking a different angle.
Between annulment and changing the mode of application
First, an important clarification: changing circumstances is not identical to the lapse of a decree’s reason. When the reason lapses, that leads to annulling the decree—and then the authority constraints apply (a Sanhedrin greater in wisdom and number per Rambam, or at least a Sanhedrin per Raavad). But in the previous columns I dealt with cases where the reason does not lapse, only the application changes in light of the new circumstances.
The Talmud’s own example of a lapsed reason is decorating the markets of Jerusalem with fruit for the Regel (Beitzah 5a): after the destruction of the Temple, the reason for the decree no longer existed. That is an example of annulling a decree. By contrast, contemporary cases such as modest swimwear do not require annulling a decree, but properly applying it in the changed reality.
In the halakhic “mashal,” Meiri’s instruction to change our stance toward non-Jews in light of their improved moral conduct is a change in the application of both de-Rabbanan and even de-Oraita rules due to changed circumstances—and tellingly, he shows no anxiety over the absence of a Sanhedrin (14th century). Similarly, the prohibition of “lo titgodedu” (not to create separate courts/communities) once meant two courts in one city; today, the operative unit is a community rather than a city (often defined by origin, but not necessarily). Already in Talmudic times the place determined law regarding local custom; today, the social community does. As I have argued elsewhere (e.g., on joining a minyan via Zoom; on lighting Shabbat candles online), sometimes the relevant “place” is a website rather than geography. These are applications of existing rules to new circumstances, not annulling rules because their reasons lapsed. Therefore, one should not apply here the formal rules for changing enactments—neither for de-Oraita nor de-Rabbanan.
Annulment of enactments despite the formal rules
In my book (see chs. 8–10) I collected dozens of examples of decisors who did annul decrees and enactments when their reasons lapsed—not merely change applications—seemingly contrary to the Talmud’s authority constraints. I explained there that the Sages employed a range of doctrinal tools to enable such changes. For example, Rosh writes in a responsum (and in Tosafot ha-Rosh to Bava Metzia 90) that when the reason is manifestly clear, one may annul the enactment (he says this regarding ta‘ama di-kra even for de-Oraita). Others wrote that when continuing the law under new circumstances causes significant harm, it may be nullified. Others pointed to cases where the law’s reason is explicit (not just an interpretation), allowing purposive interpretation, and so on. I also added the mechanism of “freezing” laws and showed from Rambam that it is entrusted to courts of every generation.
In those chapters I explained the historical backdrop: after the loss of semikha and the Sanhedrin, we have been living through a millennia-long “historical accident.” A normative system cannot allow itself to ossify in the absence of the formal authority required for change. Over time, needs for substantive halakhic changes accumulate (and their number grows at an accelerating pace), and they all get stuck on authority. That is unreasonable, since all understand that the changes are necessary and the harms severe. Consequently, sages in every era (including our own) find and formulate indirect ways to circumvent the Talmud’s formal constraints on changing halakhot.
(Examples: Minyan Corona, post 69988, post 74852, post 8982.)
All this, however, can be said regarding factual changes. Those are shifts in reality that force us to adapt halakha, perhaps even to annul laws. What about value-based change? Here we are in open conflict with Talmudic and early rulings. It is neither a new application nor annulment due to new circumstances; it is simply disagreement with existing halakhot. The conceptual question (within a conservative frame) I already discussed. In such cases, the question of authority arises in full force: can we disagree with binding Talmudic law when we lack an authorized institution (a Sanhedrin) to do so?
Between the Talmud and the Sanhedrin
I have written several times that the Talmud does not have the same authority as the Sanhedrin. The Sages of the Talmud were not semukhim sitting in the Chamber of Hewn Stone; they lived and worked in Babylonia. Moreover, their authority does not derive from infallibility or sheer greatness, but from our acceptance of them upon ourselves (see Rambam, Mamrim ch. 1–2, on the halakhot cited above). The question is: what is the nature of that acceptance? Is there, in effect, a “lo tasur” with respect to Talmudic rulings? It is hard to argue so, since “lo tasur” applies only to a Sanhedrin of semukhim in Eretz Yisrael (except for the lone view of Sefer ha-Hinukh in mitzvah 496).
Thus it appears we are dealing with a different kind of obligation—not anchored in “lo tasur.” “Lo tasur” is a top-down authority (we are obligated from Above via the chain of semikha); our commitment to the Talmud is bottom-up, i.e., arising from communal acceptance (like mara de-atra, a community’s rabbi). If so, “the mouth that forbade is the mouth that permitted”: when the people are the source of an institution’s authority, the people can also modify its force.
Implications for value-based change
This dovetails with the previous column’s claim that our commitment to the Talmud is to the bottom line halakha, not necessarily to its value premises. If we are the ones who accepted Talmudic authority, the scope and limits of that acceptance are themselves subject to analysis—just as we saw in the Talmud’s attitude to the Mishnah and in the Rishonim/Aharonim’s attitude to the Talmud. It follows that the commitment does not necessarily apply where circumstances have changed and the underlying rationale no longer obtains; certainly we can set limiting rules for Talmudic authority similar to those Sages formulated for changing halakhot in every generation.
Beyond that, the background I sketched—centuries passing and the inability to challenge the Talmud blocking changes agreed to be necessary—might lead to the conclusion that, even if we are committed to the value infrastructure, that commitment is limited in cases where real harms are created and the sages of the current generation deem change necessary. It is unreasonable to harness halakha in perpetuity to a value system that prevailed in Babylonia 1,500 years ago, especially when contemporary values openly contradict it and conduct guided by it appears (not only to outsiders, but perhaps especially to insiders) bizarre and detached. Again: this is not merely hillul Hashem, but a substantive consideration (“for it is your wisdom and understanding,” Deut. 4:6).
In the previous column I explained that value-based considerations can operate in two different ways:
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New interpretation of the law in light of contemporary values; or
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Conflict between halakha and morality: the halakha stands, but morality—understood here as a category outside halakha—obligates a practical decision that may diverge in conduct.
The difference between these paths depends on whether halakha is grounded in moral values or in specifically religious values (I hold the latter). Even so, when there are genuine interpretive options, aligning interpretation with moral principles is not only possible but desirable. Where that is clearly impossible, the second path remains: an extra-halakhic moral decision.
As I noted there, we are not obligated to adopt Hazal’s moral values. Even if those values undergird some binding halakhic rulings, that does not compel us to embrace them as our ethical compass. In short: the fact that my values differ from Hazal’s does not mean I must cave. Halakhically I will submit; morally I will stand my ground—producing a conflict between halakha and morality. In comments I also distinguished between commitment to the form (the legal boundary) and to the value rationale—the former exists, the latter need not. The boundary is blurry, but real; the resulting description is a continuum without neat criteria, yet any honest observer will acknowledge this is the state of affairs.
Additionally, I argued that sometimes the original halakha did not rest on a distinctively Torah value but adopted a prevailing social value, and thus we cannot view that value as intrinsically halakhic. For example, the claim for qualifying women as witnesses because equality is today a crucial value: it may be that Hazal did not value inequality per se, they simply lacked the value of equality. If indeed the world now holds equality as a genuine value (not merely among non-Jews but among Jews as well), this could justify change.
Back to the question of authority
Bottom line: authority does indeed restrain our ability to change halakha—especially where the change is value-based. We cannot ignore the Talmud’s constraining rules. Sometimes we will have to refrain from change despite thinking it necessary, because of authority. But it is unreasonable to treat this as an absolute bar (and decisors throughout the generations did not). It does suggest that even if we do not require a Sanhedrin, significant consensus among contemporary sages should be expected before making value-based change. Such change is delicate and risky; it should not rest on the judgment of an isolated figure, however important.
In addition (and perhaps as a complement), a value-based change should be self-evident. This is not a matter of idiosyncratic moral taste. Where a practice is past nisht—i.e., unthinkable, plainly wrong—the value shift justifies halakhic change. That is precisely what past nisht means: not merely “unlikely” or “improper,” but inconceivable to act that way today. Again, this is not only about hillul Hashem but a substantive consideration (like R. Unterman’s “ways of peace”). In such a case one can invoke Rosh: the limiting rules (e.g., needing a greater court in wisdom/number, or even ta‘ama di-kra) do not apply. One might say that such a value shift counts as a kind of factual change: the contemporary world is substantively different from Hazal’s, warranting halakhic adaptation. Then I am not “arguing” with Hazal; I am convinced that if Hazal lived today they would say the same. In that case the change is not a disagreement but a new application to new circumstances. If, however, the value shift is not that unequivocal, then change would require a Sanhedrin and full adherence to the formal constraints—and is not possible today.
This complex picture brings us to the second half of the column: how to apply it in practice. How can we know what changes fit within legitimate midrashic conservatism and which go beyond it? Are there proposals we can reject as illegitimate even within such a flexible framework? My claim is yes. Before that, I will try to define modern Orthodoxy—against both non-modern Orthodoxy (for whom some midrashic-conservative moves will be unacceptable) and Reform (where certain moves are not conservative at all). For this I will draw on all the foregoing.
Defining modern Orthodoxy
The core problem peeking through my map is that all halakhic streams—from Haredi through modern Orthodox to Conservative—are, in practice, midrashically conservative. They differ in degree and ethos, but functionally they all engage in midrashic conservatism. Only Reform lies outside it.
What, then, is the principled difference between the three “conservative” streams or types of argument? One could say it’s just dosage (how many and how far), but that reduces the matter to sociology. I seek a substantive marker—a kind of argument a non-modern Orthodox would reject as such. (Incidentally, I do not think Conservative Judaism has a substantive definition; the arguments overlap with modern Orthodoxy except for dosage and sociological factors.) What I will try to mark here is the difference between modern (midrashic) conservatism and non-modern (midrashic) conservatism, irrespective of the “peshatist” conservative ethos of Haredi society.
Basic definition: Our task is to distinguish two kinds of midrashic conservatism. Both accept adapting and reapplying halakha to new circumstances—that’s a given (without it there is no conservatism). The difference lies in two points:
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Modern Orthodoxy is willing to employ value-based change (not only factual). We saw examples of this (and also saw limits, based on authority, in the first half of this column).
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For it, the source of those values is consciously external—the modern world’s values.
Non-modern Orthodoxy relates negatively to modern values—at least when they do not match traditional ones. For it, value-based change is off the table; it does not seek to align halakha to foreign values and opposes such moves. In principle the world is in moral regression (away from the “true” values), except for rare points of convergence with tradition. Unsurprisingly, there is no place for value-based halakhic change.
There is, conceptually, another non-modern stance: one could reject value-based change not because of modern values per se, but due to authority constraints. Adherents accept midrashic-conservative modernity in principle, but due to authority will not implement it in practice. My sense is that authority claims mostly join other objections rather than lead them. Those who truly believe change is needed tend to find halakhic ways to do it—at least in most cases. It is no surprise that most non-modern conservatives also explain why this is the right way and point to flaws in contemporary culture.
Necessary caveats
Even non-modern conservatism engages in midrashic adaptations based on facts (not values). For example, Meiri’s change toward gentiles rests on changed gentile behavior, not on embracing new values; it exemplifies a sober (non-frozen) conservatism. By contrast, the claim to change attitudes to gentiles on the basis of equality is a modern value-based move.
Resistance to Meiri’s suggestion often stems from intellectual ossification: the assumption that Hazal’s factual diagnoses are eternal essences that cannot change; or the claim of authority lack. These assumptions are problematic (Hazal did not, and could not, enjoy infallible factual knowledge). Similarly odd are approaches that see every law as a gezerat ha-katuv with an unknowable reason—thus foreclosing change. Even if one entertained this for biblical laws (and even there it is tenuous), many halakhot in our time are rabbinic in origin, which by definition involved reasons and human legislation (see Rambam, Mamrim 15). Such views sit awkwardly with any discussion of change but, on closer look, undergird the “peshatist” conservative ethos.
A note about past nisht: sometimes this invokes modern values (e.g., the value of honoring others’ religious practice as a civic norm), and sometimes internal Torah values. Many decisors reject proposals like intentionally invalidating secular marriage kiddushin because it is past nisht for Jews to build homes “not according to Moses and Israel”—an internal value, not a modern one. There are also cases where non-modern conservatives rely on values imported (consciously or not) from the surrounding world but seek Torah sources to anchor them. This blurs lines, but the distinctions still matter.
Interim summary: a general map
Midrashic (non-Reform) conservatisms all express obligation to halakhic rules (including the recalcitrant sinner who does not comply). This is a taxonomy of arguments, not of social groups.
Before moving on, three general comments:
A. Does U.S. Modern Orthodoxy fit this definition?
In my essay on secular courts and modern Orthodoxy (presented to a forum around the Yeshiva University orbit), I used the example of the prohibition to litigate in secular courts. Several listeners insisted that change must be grounded in traditional sources and analysis; they would not accept my claim that, although there is a prohibition, there is no viable alternative—a past nisht style argument. This is midrashic sober conservatism, but not “modern Orthodoxy” as I defined it, since it prefers to discover the needed values inside the sources (factual-application midrash) rather than avowedly importing external values. Often the values and methods proposed are a thin veneer over midrashic conservatism. (See my piece: On Modern Orthodoxy—Winks and Uses.)
B. Is Religious-Zionism “modern Orthodoxy”?
At the outset I distinguished these, claiming there is no essential link between them beyond a shared opposition to Haredism (each to a different facet). The common Religious-Zionist justification rests on Torah-based values: a mitzvah to settle the Land (ideally with sovereignty), advancing redemption, and so on—classic peshat readings rather than midrashic conservatism. Thus, in principle, there is no necessary connection between Religious-Zionism and modern Orthodoxy, though of course individuals can be both. Calling for a state because of modern political values (self-determination, national rights) would be a modern argument, but that is secular Zionism’s claim, not the religious one. I’ve written more extensively on separating the hyphen between “religious” and “Zionist”: e.g., post 74916, and “The Third Path—on Religious Zionism without a Hyphen” (essay 1, essay 2), and related pieces like What do the Haredi Anti-Draft Protests Have to Do with Elections?, post 5041, and post 71318.
In my view, the real watershed in Israeli religious society is not Haredi vs. Religious-Zionist but Haredi vs. modern Orthodox (liberal) conservatism. On this axis, Hardal (Haredi-national-religious) is firmly on the Haredi side. The only link between many Religious-Zionists and modern Orthodoxy is the “Zionist hat,” not their conservatism itself. My impression is that a large majority of Religious-Zionism (and many Haredim) actually practice modern Orthodoxy in substance, but the ethos and leadership obscure this, leading many to think that to be truly religious one must be non-modern. It is time to shed these anachronistic labels and redraw the map—also politically-ideologically. My aim here and in the surrounding trilogy is to offer a systematic program that can coalesce a currently unaligned public around it.
C. A note on conservatism in general
Elsewhere (cols. 172, 492) I wrote that I oppose conservatism and innovation as such: adopting or rejecting claims merely because they align or clash with the status quo is non-substantive. Claims should be judged on their merits. Here, however, the setting is different: in halakha, conservatism means preserving what God commanded. There is a substantive rationale: what God commanded is true and binding. Thus in the halakhic context there is reason to accept or reject an argument because of its relationship to tradition—understood properly as the transmitted will of God. The “map” here charts ways of preserving—different kinds of conservative midrash—not aesthetic loyalty to the past.
Looking ahead: distinguishing from Reform
I have mainly tried to characterize modern vs. non-modern conservatisms. The remaining question is the mirror image: how do these differ from Reform? Can one actually draw a bright line, or am I simply presenting a Reform program? In the next column I will examine the arguments of the Reform Rabbi Moshe Zemer for Reform halakhic changes and show the differences—arguing that the picture drawn here remains conservative and not Reform.
(See also: post 62661, post 63914.)
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Religious Zionism is very aware of the influence of the Spring of Nations and the national awakening in the world on Zionism, it only covers itself up or boasts of the halakhic order of the settlement of the land as a reference or excuse, or as an additional layer. But the two things, the two motivations, exist simultaneously and are not contradictory. In this respect, religious Zionism is not conservatism, but a great innovation, a departure from everything that the great men of the generation in Europe have taught, at least. Joining the secularists, by all means, in order to build a Jewish state in the Land of Israel, as an ideal that competes with the ideal of Torah study, for example. The fact that there is a split in religious Zionism today is a natural development between its two fundamental trends: the part that stems from secular cultural innovation in the world, and the part that stems from religious sources.
You are repeating my words. The meaning of your claim is that the religious Zionist movement has always been divided between the Mustards and the Modern Orthodox, and in these years it is coming into effect. Those are my words. But consider that religious Zionism is what is common to both groups, and as such it is an idea different from and independent of Modern Orthodoxy.
We must also distinguish between the psychological-sociological influence of the Spring of Nations that inspires a religious movement, and ideological claims not of religious origin in the name of the values of the Spring of Nations. I completely agree that sometimes the religious arguments are just a facade, and my words are intended, among other things, to exempt us from the need for facades from religious sources.
You wrote: “The accepted reasoning for the religious-Zionist position is based on the values of the Torah. The claim is that halachically there is an obligation to settle the Land of Israel even in a sovereign-state structure and the like.” I think this is a narrow definition, you did not address at all the innovation and rebellion that is inherent in joining Zionism. You turned them into Haredi from the beginning, not her.
I did not turn anyone into a Haredi from the beginning, and I reiterated this again in my previous message here. My argument is that the main halakhic innovation of religious Zionism is that there is a duty for state sovereignty (even in cooperation with seculars). In this sense, there is nothing here with Modern Orthodox. A subgroup of them acted openly or implicitly for “secular” reasons, and this is the nucleus from which Modern Orthodoxy can develop in our days. I do not see what the argument between us is about. It seems to me that everything is agreed upon.
But since you have raised the matter, the decision to cooperate with seculars (which I mentioned in my remarks), in my opinion is tactical and I do not see it as the main innovation. I did not see that from the tenth century onwards a religious movement arose to settle the land and establish a state, even if there were no seculars at the time. Joining the seculars was a means to uphold the religious value. If I lived in a society where there were only gentile donkeys, I would cooperate with them so that I could redeem a donkey's patr. So even in establishing a state, they collaborated with secularists because that is the situation and without them it would not have arisen. Therefore, in my opinion, this is a relatively marginal innovation. But as mentioned, this is a side discussion, and does not touch on the main point of my argument.
Take a boy and a girl in Poland who join the Zionist club, the Hechalutz or the religious Hechalutz, get excited, go to training and later immigrate to Israel to establish a kibbutz. Is all of this done as a halakhic act to maintain the settlement of the land? It certainly exists there in the background, but it is doubtful that this is the main point.
Clearly. Even today, the people in the fields are not opinion leaders. The leadership that shapes the arguments dictates the path and they join. When I talk about arguments, I talk about ideology.
The boys must have joined the secular Zionist movement as religious people.
Religious Zionism has indeed always been divided into two from a Gothic perspective: the Mizrahi versus the disciples of Rabbi Kook and Degel Yerushalayim. And even today, the Merkaz HaRav and the Gush Etzion Yeshiva and their offshoots.
However, Rabbi Kook himself certainly believed that there was a place for national and moral motives alongside halakhic motives (for example, the Talley Orot article, and many others), but he believed that they all stem from a common source – from God, through the revealed Torah, the hidden Torah, the revelations of the soul, and the history of the world.
Is he closer to midrashic conservatism or modern Orthodoxy? I think midrashic conservatism. Although I abhor the expression conservatism in the context of the Torah. The Torah is revolutionary and not at all conservative.
On the occasion of Jerusalem-Jerusalem-Al-Quds Day 2021
To her life – Peace be upon you,
If religious Zionism stems from the national awakening in Europe, then today that Europe has decided to unite all nations into a united European community – why should our part be excluded?
The time has come for us to establish here too a ‘Middle Eastern community’ multinational and multicultural’ in which Arabs and Jews, Christians, Druze and Muslims, Sunnis and Shiites will live in peace and brotherhood from Afghanistan in the east to Morocco in the west!
With the blessing of universal unity, Shams Razel Alfanjari
Shams has many strange names - things evolve, movements don't freeze in place, so what? That doesn't say anything about analyzing the beginning and the foundation. And by the way, even today there is a constant movement between nationalism and universalism, and it would be good if we too knew how to listen to this movement.
On the 28th of Iyar, 5772 (the day of the ascension of Rabbi Kook to the throne)
To her life – Peace be upon you,
And perhaps instead of trying to adapt ourselves to every new and refreshing spirit, and to its light (or darkness :), we will update our values, and be constantly influenced and dragged – we will understand that they are the religious values, both national and universal – they are part of our eternal Torah
The Torah that commands the commandments between man and place and the commandments between man and his fellow man, the conquest of the land and settlement in it, and the dissemination of the Torah to the nations of the world; the commandment to build a temple on the Mount of Olives So that ’my house of prayer will be called to all the nations’ from which Torah will come forth to all the nations; expecting that all will receive the yoke of heavenly scholarships, but that it will be in the form of ‘and His kingdom willingly accepted upon them” – The Torah includes all the values – those in the ‘modern’ fashion; and those that have now ‘left the norm’ 🙂
The Torah is likened to ’mustard’ which includes all the flavors – spicy and sweet, sour and salty – and so we should strive for a Torah that will include ‘Haredi’. Isn't it ‘vigorous’ In biblical terms (such as ‘Why have you brought all this anxiety upon us’); ‘Religion’, loyalty to fixed laws; ‘Nationalism’ emphasizing the uniqueness of the people of Israel, with ‘Liberalism’, from the language ‘Liber Ela” the fullness of love for everyone who was created in the image of God.
Halacha is intended to bring balance and coordination between all the values of eternity and humanity, to give each value the right dosage, in order to create a complete and harmonious value system. The more we come to clarification – we can be leaders and influencers.
With greetings, Edmon Akaviah Lichtman-Lederer the Meiri
Or maybe not?
Now I see that Shatz represents the centrist approach well, one can see in his words how Rabbi Kook's words justifying non-Torah motives turn into Midrashic conservatism for him.
Hayutha, why not? Don't reject such rational arguments.
Indeed, my response was not polite, I will expand and say that I do not like forced harmonizations like "everything is in our Holy Torah". It is true that our Holy Torah expands and develops and absorbs foreign and renewed elements from the outside until we are unaware that they have come close. The world is an interesting, changing and renewing creation, some claim that even God is responsible for this, and Judaism operates its internal balances against it in a generally quite successful manner. This is not the place to demonstrate this point, but even my favorite legends, which are an integral part of the Shas, were probably born from the influence of Greek plays and, of course, were legally converted and ge'iro'd. In short, I do not like people being accused of flattering foreign and new spirits. It is the way of the world that things change, including people.
On the eve of Rosh Chodesh Sivan 5772
The theaters and circuses that the sages knew were places of cheap amusement filled with cynical mockery or brutal violence - which the sages abhorred to the depths of their souls, and warned their listeners to stay away from them like fire. It is likely that the Greek classicists did not have a very favorable opinion of their cheap Levantine imitators.
The legend grew out of the Torah readings in the synagogues, which the regulations of the Great Knesset from the time of Ezra strengthened in the desire to create a broad stratum of "laborers", simple people, farmers and artisans, full of Torah knowledge.
On Sabbaths, the hardworking Jews gathered in synagogues and read from the Torah, both in the morning and at the evening meal. Naturally, repeating a familiar text could be boring, so they found ways to spice up the words of the Torah so that they would attract the hearts of their listeners, lest they wander the streets idly like “sitters of the horns.”
The synagogue was an impressive and unique Jewish creation, unparalleled in the culture of the Gentiles. Among the Gentiles, education was the preserve of the rich and aristocrats, while among the Jews there was an aspiration that “all your children should be taught the law.”
There were many Greeks and Hellenists who mocked the Jews, both for their “atheistic” temple devoid of statues, and for their idleness, which led them to “spend more than a seventh of their lives in idleness.” But there were many who looked with admiration at the Jews as a ’nation of philosophers’, some came to the synagogues to hear the readings and sermons, and some, including quite a few from ’high society’ – such as the kings of the House of Hadib, Helleni and his son Monbez, Beluria, Onkelus and many others who converted. A Roman writer in the period after the destruction complains that ’there is no house in Rome that does not have a Jew’
It seems that even the members of the Hellenistic aristocracy who grew up on the knees of Greek philosophy and high art – found in Judaism a world of faith and values that was incomparably deeper than the Greek culture ‘which has no fruit but flowers’ (as the saying goes).
The ’drifting’ The move towards Judaism was halted by the decree on circumcision during the reign of Emperor Hadrian, which initially included all residents of the empire and led to the Bar Kokhba revolt. But Hadrian's successors understood that it was enough to strictly prohibit circumcision on Gentiles in order to prevent conversions. The Jews also learned their lesson and raised the barriers of separation from Gentile society.
The 'Jewish prick' continued to prick the Greeks and Romans in the form of Christianity, which offered 'instant Judaism', without circumcision and the grammar of commandments, monotheism combined with paganism 'one who is three', and so on, pagan-monotheism syncretism, and at the end of the day The Roman Emperor Constantine accepted Christianity and the idols of Greece and Rome faded away.
Both the ’church’ to which Christians go on Sunday, and the ’mosque’ to which Muslims go on Friday – are clear imitations of the synagogue to which Jews go on Saturday.
Howie says: A poor but determined nation – can exert a shaking influence on world culture within a span of centuries.
With greetings, Edmon Kacavia Lichtman-Lederer the Meiri
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… of ‘your people’, common people, …
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… to poke their brains…
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… pagan-monotheistic syncretism conquered the empire, and’in the end…
I meant to speak much more simply, in the dialogical format of
Sorry, I jumped. I meant the dialogical pattern of – He said to him: He said to him: and not to circuses and theaters. We have stories in the Pentateuch too, and we don't need to run to the Greeks to get them.
The Mizrachi before the Holocaust, in Europe. The great rabbis who were there did not see a contradiction between the religious and Zionist and therefore cooperated [Aviv Amim]
Rabbi Kook [preceded by the Baasha Ha-Gara, mainly their students, the Or Ha-Hayim and the Hatas, later the Rabbis of Chovevei Zion] shouts the beginning of redemption while he was a member of the Council of Torah Greats of Agudat Israel until the day he died. And when the world Mizrachi does not really flow with the redemptive line of Rabbi Kook, he establishes a new movement called ‘Degel Yerushalayim’ which is its function. To promote the awareness and actions of the beginning of redemption.
On a political level, it did not take off in his lifetime, but today the big movement in the country is probably mainly in the path and teachings of Rabbi Kook and his followers [Etchelta Degeola] but in the US it is called ‘Modern Orthodox’ And this is more in line with Rabbi Solowitzik [who served as a member of the Council of Torah Elders of Agudath Israel in the United States, and after the Holocaust, who saw that rabbis and rabbis were coming from Europe and establishing a conservative, communal, framework-based Judaism that was sometimes opinionated, sometimes religious, sometimes productive, that integrated with the necessary caution, saying, "You learned nothing from what happened in Europe," and resigning as a member of the Council of Torah Elders of Agudath Israel in the United States. And later being appointed as the president of the world Mizrachi], it is more in line with the Mizrachi who sees this as the Sun of Nations + the sound of my uncle's voice beating and less as an unequivocal statement of the beginning of redemption.
In the rabbinical tradition of Sivan, I do not know whether Rabbi Kook used the phrase “the beginning of redemption” in reference to the return to Zion in our generation, but he certainly saw the process as the “light of salvation shining upon the people of Israel and a preparation for redemption.” In Mizrahi, it was Rabbi Reines who was careful not to define Zionism as a preparation for redemption. He emphasized the dimension of saving the Jews of Europe from the persecution of the haters of Israel, and for this reason, like Herzl, he was inclined to accept the “Uganda Plan.”
But this was not the only voice in the Mizrahi, and there were quite a few who spoke (following the Hovevei Zion) about Zionism as preparation for the coming redemption, "Kimaa Kimaa". This position was held, for example, by Rabbi Herzog, who, when it was suggested to him during World War II not to return to the land where the German armies were standing, replied: "We have accepted that there will be no third destruction." And in the prayer for the peace of the state, which Rabbi Herzog and Rabbi Uziel composed, they called the State of Israel "the beginning of the growth of our redemption." (See also Rabbi Ari Yitzhak Shevat's article, "On the Sages, Rabbi Herzog and the Certainty That There Will Be No Third Destruction" (Tzohar 21, available for viewing online).
Rabbi Kook's goal in establishing the "Jerusalem Flag" was practical:
a. To involve religious circles in the work of building and settling the land, which were deterred by the partnership with secular Zionism, and therefore he proposed that the "Jerusalem Flag" would engage in encouraging religious immigration and settlement independently of the Zionist movement.
b. To work for the "revival of the Holy," for the building of the spiritual life of the Jewish people in their land. Religious education in the new settlement, fostering literature and a culture of faith. Torah compilation projects, such as a Talmudic encyclopedia, clear halakha and commentary on the bi'uri The rabbi, etc., who will concentrate and organize all the halakhic material for his generations as a basis for halakhic dealing with modern problems. Establishing a world assembly of rabbis to discuss the solution of halakhic problems. Establishing a central yeshiva whose students will grow not only in the Talmud and halakhic knowledge, but also in Jewish thought, in order to find solace for the soul of the generation in the correct explanation of Judaism.
All the great plans that Rabbi Kook intended for the ’Jerusalem Flag’ – were later adopted by various factors – Zionist and Haredi – and often it is precisely the lack of awareness of the redemptive significance that increases the motivation and self-confidence for the realization of great projects.
With greetings, Admon Akaviah Lichtman-Lederer HaMeiri
Recently, it was published Testimony of Rabbi Neta Zvi Greenblatt (Rabbi of Memphis) who knew Rabbi Kook in his youth. Among other things, Rabbi Rosenblatt said that Rabbi Kook heard a T.H. who was enthusiastic about building the land and said that we see here the ‘Ekveta D'Mashicha’. Rabbi Kook replied that as long as the ’Vatican’ is standing on its pedestal = we have not yet reached the ’Ekveta D'Mashicha’. It seems that there are stages in the growth of redemption and ’Ekveta D'Mashicha’ is one of the most advanced of them…
On the ‘Jerusalem Flag’ of Rabbi Kook, see Rabbi Avraham Wasserman's book, ‘Calling the Flag– Rabbi Kook and the Jerusalem Flag”, the Forgotten Alternative to the Zionist Movement’, Har-Baraka Institute 2007. And in his series of lessons on the ‘Jerusalem Flag’ (on the ‘Yeshiva Ramat-Gan’ website), and in his lessons: ‘The Resurrection of the Jerusalem Flag’ and '”We Will Go to Ourselves– A New Self-Definition’ (on the ‘Yeshiva’ website).
See also the articles of Rabbi Dov Bigon, “Flags of the World and the Flag of Jerusalem” (on the “Kippa” website), and Rabbi Yehuda Zoldan, “The Flag of Jerusalem for Rabbi Kook: The Sprout That Didn’t Grow” (on the “Makor Rishon” website) and in the literature cited under “The Flag of Jerusalem” (Movement, on Wikipedia.
With greetings, A’el
It can be said briefly that the difference between the ‘flag of Zion’ and the ’flag of Jerusalem’ in the teachings of Rabbi Kook, is parallel to the difference between the ‘covenant-of-destiny’ and the ’covenant-of-purpose’ in the ’voice of my uncle, beating’ of Rabbi Soloveitchik.
Even in general Zionism, Zionism sought not only the existential aspect of the people's return to a life of independence in their country, but also the moral vision. Whether it is the vision of the free ‘new Jew’ of Ahad Ha'am and his ilk, or whether it is the vision of the just and egalitarian society of the ‘Labor Movement’.
In contrast, religious Zionism saw the value vision in a renewed connection of the people to create a "complete level" that combines spiritual life with practical life, and expands the life of the Torah from the limited circle of the lives of individuals and communities, to a society and a state that represents and fulfills the Torah and its values as a community and a state.
With blessings of a Happy New Year, Amioz Yaron Schnitzel
A. Ostensibly, the conceptual discussion about conservative change is only relevant with regard to authority (substantive and/or formal). If there is no authority and every Tahsih today has the power of a sage for everything and everyone, then everyone will interpret according to what he thinks is right and there is no (any?) importance to the question of whether this is conservatism and of what kind. It is clear that the Tahsinim did a lot of things - in interpretation, sermons, in their independent interpretations from which they derived laws (for example, is there a choice), and the Amoraim (and the Rishonim) did not put their hands in the dish either. Without the assumption that change is problematic, i.e. the assumption of authority, what is the importance of the discussion of whether it is a change or not?
B. It seems simple that the main difference between modern conservatives and non-modern conservatives is in the question of whether authority is mainly formal (modern conservatives) or also substantive (non-modern conservatives), isn't it? Formal authority in itself is a pretty weak reed.
A. Indeed true.
B. Not necessarily, but in many cases this is the case. There can be non-modern conservatives who accept only formal authority, but still cling to it.