‘Respect and Friendship’ Approach – A Look at the Attitude Toward Those Who Leave the Faith (Column 490)

Note: the translation from Yiddish is not accurate at all. They inserted their own interpretations of terms like "coerced" (anus), "have compassion on him," and "a child taken captive." Rabbi Edelstein did not explain the terms; he merely said them as they are.
In the rabbi’s own words (without the translator’s interpretation), there is a more solid, more natural approach within the Haredi world, though it cannot be denied that it is original and courageous.

Now all that remains is to write the article of the new generation.

Rabbi Michi already wrote about this once. I’ll phrase it the way I remember it: today’s generation is not necessarily lower; rather, it draws the necessary conclusions from the basic premises. If there is no God, then all that remains is just me.

He repeats several times that there is no choice and this is the only way, and the general meaning that emerges from his words is that, in order to draw him close through honor and friendship, this is the only way that will begin to bring him closer in the long run.

It may be that the insistence on loving your child comes from the prohibition against depriving him of his inheritance, since a righteous child may come from him. They are making an analogy here: just as with inheritance you may not deprive your child even though he is wicked, so too with love you may not deprive your child of it (perhaps even an a fortiori argument). Another point is implicit here. Today, even when a child leaves the faith, we do not lose him completely. He remains on the Jewish periphery at one level or another. This is not a one-way movement outward, but the finding of a new equilibrium in which the child still remains in the vicinity, and therefore in the long run a righteous grandchild and the like can certainly come from him.

There is something that, in my understanding, the whole article misses. His forgiving attitude toward those who go off the religious path is not because he sees them as adults entitled to do whatever they please, but because he sees all their actions as childish pranks. Therefore he explains what the proper way is to educate such a child. This can also be seen in his statement that this is the only way they will return. Which means that all his remarks are an educational method for how to bring back children who have distanced themselves, and not a principled recognition of the child’s "right" to sin so long as he thinks that is what is right for him.

You are very right about the intensity of the abandonment; it has decreased very much in recent years. In Religious Zionism, many who leave still remain right-wing, which once was not the case. They stay in touch with their friends, come to class reunions, etc. This is also the reason for the necessary change in attitude, but also one of its results.

I raised such a possibility, but then we are talking only about children. His remarks are directed to descendants of any age (who brings a girlfriend home and sleeps with her there?).

The famous words of the Hazon Ish on the matter of “they are lowered down but not raised up”:
It appears that the law of lowering down applies only at a time when His providence, blessed be He, is manifest, as in the days when miracles were common and a heavenly voice was in use, and the righteous of the generation were under particular providence visible to all. Then those who denied were in special perversity, through the inclination being turned toward lusts and lawlessness, […] But in a time of concealment, when faith has been cut off from the common people, an act of lowering does not repair the breach, but only increases the breach, for it will appear to them as an act of destruction and violence, God forbid. And since our whole purpose is to repair, this law does not apply when there is no repair in it, and it is upon us to bring them back with cords of love and to set them upon a beam of light to the extent that our hand can reach.

To his dear honor, may he live long, even in the laws of the State of Israel there is this structure: the act is described in the present tense, and afterward comes the determination whether or not it falls under the definition at the beginning of the statute. Of course, in every legal system one must define, and afterward fit the cases into the definitions.
Reading legislative details can sound in any language like a tedious, ridiculous joke. That is its nature.

First of all—correct. But he was not talking about legislative details; he was talking about interpretations that assigned concepts meanings of their own.

The halakhic move and the conclusion are unfounded.
The claim that honor and friendship will bring them back to repentance is dubious, if not unfounded as well. See in the works of Bashevis Singer, the captive child and the coerced one are a positive commandment. “None who go to her return.”

In R. Nachman of Breslov, “none who go to her return” excludes the righteous one, who can bring them out of the mud.
That could perhaps be anyone who understood something about them.

It seems to me, on the contrary, that a formerly religious person who replaces religion with Bibi-worship—including statue and picture (and amulet)—falls more under the definition of one who apostatized to idolatry.

Rabbi Michael, you did not mention the words of Minchat Shlomo, siman 35, which in practice is the halakhic basis nowadays for that concept (which is not mentioned by R. Shlomo Zalman, but the same principle—"honor and friendship."

So it turns out that your words, "the concern about sin if he distances him is greater than if he is not strict with him. On the face of it, it is hard to see what this is based on," are not precise.

Best regards, Yehonatan

The question also arose in wills: whether a father is obligated to bequeath to his son who stopped observing the commandments, including responsa of Rabbi Feinstein.

1. Your statement that there is no need for the rationale of “a child taken captive” once there is the “either way” argument of placing a stumbling block before the blind is, in my opinion, incorrect.
Indeed, it is forbidden to cause a willful sinner to stumble, but someone defined as wicked may be caused to stumble in certain situations, akin to the law of “feed him to the wicked and let him die.” Therefore, if the son who has gone off the religious path were wicked, one could, for such and such considerations, push him away even though it worsens his condition, in order to prevent an influence on other children in the building and so on. This seems to me the more plausible explanation of Rabbi Edelstein’s words.

2. Regarding the definition of “a child taken captive” itself:
It is well known that many scoff at defining a secular person, or certainly a formerly religious person, as “a child taken captive.” And indeed, it seems hard to say that a secular person is considered fully coerced like a child who grew up with Eskimos.
Rather, one must enter into the precise categories of coercion—there is coercion with respect to not considering it an act of transgression at all, and there is only “similar to coercion,” merely to exempt from blame—as in Tosafot on taking bread from the oven regarding a half-slave woman, that since she entices people to sleep with her, one must save them from sin even at the price of violating a lighter prohibition. (Although it is clear that a person whom a woman enticed to sin is defined as acting willfully.) That is, secular people and formerly religious people are “children taken captive” in the sense that it is hard to relate to them as wicked people. Therefore, even though they are not truly coerced, we should take the bread out of the oven for their sake on Shabbat, and of course “we raise them up but do not lower them” and so on does not apply to them.
(And one can also say it somewhat differently: everyone is possibly a “child taken captive,” since it is not clear whether his sins do not stem from some basic lack of understanding. Therefore one should treat him stringently as a child taken captive.)
If I understand the Tur, I think you agree that “a child taken captive” is not to be taken literally while ignoring reality; but in my opinion, the statement that “a child taken captive” is connected to tolerance toward opinions is going a bit too far.

To neutralize the law of “feed him to the wicked” one does not need such far-reaching novelties. Causing a wicked person to stumble in sin is itself highly problematic, and there is no need for special arguments to get out of it: https://he.wikipedia.org/wiki/%D7%94%D7%9C%D7%A2%D7%99%D7%98%D7%94%D7%95_%D7%9C%D7%A8%D7%A9%D7%A2_%D7%95%D7%99%D7%9E%D7%95%D7%AA

An ordinary secular Jew is fully coerced, and in my opinion defining him as a child taken captive is as obvious as an egg. There is no greater coercion than coercion in matters of belief.

In terms of the subtext, it seems to me that you credited Rabbi Edelstein with a merit he does not possess. He says explicitly, again and again, that this is a matter of madness and coercion by the evil inclination (lack of self-control), not coercion of reason. The motivation to justify a person’s compassion for his son certainly exists, but the justification he found is the opposite.

By the way, according to your approach there should apparently be an even more extreme implication. It seems to me you would agree that most religious people are “children taken captive” no less than secular people, in the sense that they have not devoted thought to the matter in a way likely to lead them to the opposite conclusion. Why doesn’t that make them coerced regarding every commandment they fulfill? (In more philosophical terms: can one say that someone knows that it is a commandment to wave the four species if his belief is not justified? Can one say it is justified without saying that if the belief were not true he would discover that?)

The obvious reasoning is that he is like a gentile in every respect (= an apostate).
You also assume that there were no secular people and those coerced in matters of belief of various kinds in earlier times… that is a mistake. Despite this, there is no such category in halakhah.
And according to your approach, it would be impossible to punish any criminal in any way; everyone would claim he was coerced, that a spirit of folly entered him, or that a demon forced him.

Regarding your position about conversion and acceptance of the commandments, I do not understand why you allow the “club members” to remain inside and provide them with honor and friendship. If they do not believe in the club’s idea, do not recognize the correctness/validity of its rules, and violate them brazenly, how do you dare demand full and uncompromising commitment from new club members? (The club was a metaphor you used in the past.) You are not consistent, Rabbi.

Fine. What is obvious to the master is not obvious to me. In fact, it is the opposite of what is obvious to me.
It is hard for me to argue with declarations.
According to my approach, one can punish a sinner based on an assessment of whether he is coerced or not. The fact that he claims something means nothing. I have explained more than once that there are presumptions in the world, and people are stoned and burned on the basis of presumptions. And the presumption has changed from the past to our day. These matters have been explained more than once, and I see no point in repeating everything here.

As for the difference between throwing someone out of the club and accepting him into it—go ask the schoolchildren; it is elementary. There is a difference between the criteria by which you would assess adopting a child and the criteria by which you would throw your own child out of the house. And likewise, no state will accept thieves as naturalized citizens, but a thief does not lose his citizenship in any country.
I am very happy about your decisiveness, but unfortunately I find it hard to be impressed by it. I have some strange trait by which I prefer reasoned arguments over declarations. But each to his own taste, of course.

Every person who is mistaken is coerced in his thinking and is probably biased by various biases. And still I respect his position.
If a person holds the correct position out of intuition, that is perfectly fine with me. Nobody checks everything to the end, and we all make decisions under conditions of uncertainty. But when a person holds an incorrect position, his responsibility for that depends on whether he was negligent or not.
But I wrote here and in the trilogy that a person who prevents himself from examining questions that trouble him out of fear that he may “go heretical,” then if in fact he is right and he would indeed have gone heretical, he is really a secular person in disguise, and his commandments are not worth much.

With God’s help, 21 Tammuz 5782

Rabbi Y. G. Edelstein’s approach of drawing close those who have gone astray “with cords of love” and “setting them upon a beam of light by pleasant ways” is the approach of the Hazon Ish, that those who go astray in our day are not judged as heretics, both because God’s providence is not manifest and because in this generation there is no one who knows how to rebuke; and therefore they are to be drawn close with cords of love and by pleasant ways. See what Rabbi Chaim Navon brought in his article, “The Attitude toward Secular Jews in Halakhah,” on the Torat Har Etzion website.

Rabbi Gershon Edelstein saw this approach of “drawing close by pleasant ways” carried out in practice in the conduct of his father, Rabbi Zvi Yehuda Edelstein z”l, who was the rabbi of Ramat HaSharon, and after him his son Rabbi Yaakov Edelstein z”l continued in this path, serving for decades as the rabbi of Ramat HaSharon.

Best regards, Hanoch Henekh Feinshker-Flaty

I did not see arguments in your words either.

What kind of assessment?
I am not sure the presumption has changed; please elaborate.
And you did not address my “declaration” that there were secular people in the past too, and nevertheless there is no category of “those coerced in matters of belief” in halakhah (there are sectarians, heretics, deniers, apostates, converts out, etc.).

True, he does not lose his citizenship. But they put him in prison, cut off his hands, or exile him. Among us they used to excommunicate and ostracize.
There is, in my humble opinion, a limit to the difference between the two kinds of club members, and it is expressed in the fact that it is easier for a Jew to return than for a gentile to enter.

I would be very glad if you would write substantively and stop attacking with borrowed phrases.

The example of the thief is not a good one, because אצלנו he only has to compensate and in some cases “be enslaved” for a few years.
But the idea is clear. (And in addition the offender does it brazenly.)

Paragraph 1, line 1
… those who have gone astray “with cords of love”…

In the signature
… Feinshmaker-Flaty

Everything was explained both here and in the articles and columns. I’m done.

Arguments, arguments… impressive.
You only proved with your example of the thief that your words lack logic and consistency.
Which articles and columns are you referring to? You are known as a prolific and long-winded writer.

“As for the difference between throwing someone out of the club and accepting him into it, go ask the schoolchildren; it is elementary.” Do you see this as a kind of principle in its own right—that once something has risen it does not descend—or is there consequentialist/human logic in it? [In the examples you gave of adoption and citizenship, there is a clear human logic that advances purposes of satisfying desires. Toward a child there are feelings and commitment, whereas toward a candidate for adoption there are not yet any. As for citizenship, they decided to give statistical insurance and mutual guarantee lest someone or his children decline into theft, in some sense exactly like disability allowances.]

[The side that says it is a principle in its own right is because I encountered at least one appearance of this idea in the Gemara, in Sukkah 13a: a hyssop bundle requires three stalks (even after the fact, according to Rabbi Yose), but if he bundled three and two remained it is valid. Why this appears specifically with hyssop (and presumably there are more examples) requires study, but at first glance it seems there is an appearance here of that principle. It also has a name I cannot find at the moment in connection with electrical circuits that have a certain immunity to noise (there is a neutral zone that preserves the original presumption between the line of positive voltage and the line of negative voltage)].

It is hard for me to answer. It is a mixture of the two things, but my feeling is that there is also an essential dimension. Once you accepted someone into the club, you have a commitment toward him. Toward someone who comes to be accepted, you have no commitment. Your conduct toward one to whom you have committed yourself is not the same as toward one to whom you have not.

As for the example from hyssop, I seem to remember that I saw an article by Rabbi Yaakov Warhaftig devoted entirely to the distinction between entering a state and leaving it. He discusses many examples of this. I looked for it now and did not find it, but there is such a thing.

With God’s help, 21 Tammuz 5782

To LTG—many greetings,

It seems to me that the distinction between accepting a convert and “an Israelite who sinned” is twofold:

A. One who entered the covenant with the Holy One, blessed be He—he no longer has an “exit.” He is a Jew and will remain a Jew, whether he wants to or not. In contrast, one who is not yet Jewish must make a covenant with the Holy One, blessed be He, in which he undertakes, “All that the Lord has spoken we will do and we will hear.”

B. Even if we say that one who casts off the yoke of Torah and commandments is “an inadvertent sinner close to being coerced,” still we say “the Merciful One exempts one who is coerced,” and therefore his responsibility for his denial is greatly reduced. But in order to convert, one needs an undertaking to accept Torah and commandments, and there we cannot say that “coercion is as though it were done.”

Best regards, Eliam Fish”l Wurkeheimer

Only in the laws of oaths is coercion in matters of belief like ordinary coercion as in the whole Torah (which is why only there, for example, he does not bring a sin offering), and straightforwardly this is not considered coercion because he should have studied. These matters are explicit everywhere and require no proof.
Apparently the comparison to those “similar to the coerced” in the half-slave woman case {Shabbat 4a, Tosafot s.v. Ve-khi} was done much better by Avishai.

Thanks (I also just looked for the article now, online and in Otzar HaChochma, and did not find it).

It seems that “gallows” could be a representative term for the phenomenon (and for its analytic treatment)—here is an interesting passage from the book Kosi Revayah in Otzar HaChochma that turned up in attempts to find the article you mentioned https://ibb.co/HnXCZw9, and there is room to delve into it.

Hello, hello
A. But that is the very substance of the discussion—what the reason is. “To make a covenant” is basically just a past decision that expressed his being in a certain state, whereas now he is in another state (I generally tend to think that in an “essential” sense, decisions and promises and bans etc. from the past carry no weight at all). And especially since he himself entered no covenant at all—only his mothers and grandmothers did. Indeed, that is part of the complaint of Ger hasidim about those who leave: granted, to be from the outset a hasid of Aleksander is one thing, but to be a hasid of Ger and then leave—that is terrible. (And they also claim that those who leave try to draw souls from Ger to their own approach and cool people’s hearts, etc.) And since I mentioned criticism of them, I will mention praise as well: not long ago I saw on YouTube a public exam on proficiency in the Talmud for dozens of Ger hasidim. I watched all the exam clips in the video, and although it was only proficiency etc., it was extremely impressive and a wonderful achievement, and since then my sympathy for the “holy court” of Ger has increased.
B. 🙂 But here we are not dealing with punishments but with states.

Absolutely not true. You are probably referring to “a person in an oath, except one who is coerced” and the story about the amoraim who took an oath. But the halakhic authorities state (the Radbaz is the best known among them) that coercion in matters of belief is coercion in every respect. And reason supports this. The coercion is that he did not know that he needed to study. That is the difference between inadvertent sin and coercion: whether there is negligence in his lack of knowledge or not.

Well, this is a recurring argument between us. I of course see covenant-making as morally binding. See a bit in my columns on friendship (269, בעקבות the philosopher Sarah Stroud).

[It seems that seeing an agreement as binding, as in column 260, looks like grounding it in property: that giving a promise is like giving a gift, and the friends exchanged between themselves “being in covenant.” But property rights too are like a dream that flies away. This seems so to me in an “essential” sense; but in practice I am a “traditional” Hindik in values, who behaves—and even feels, on the outer layer—in accordance with what is accepted.]

1. What is the nature of the commitment here? Acting out of commitment in a covenant is ostensibly meant to benefit the other party. Here, is the commitment that of the Jew who denied, toward the Holy One, blessed be He, or is the commitment that of the Holy One, blessed be He, toward the Jew who denied, or is the commitment between all Jews and the Jew who denied? In other words, the question is what the implications are of his being Jewish.

2. By the way, I recall that in the past you criticized the principled demand of disabled people to increase the charity allowance they receive, saying they may ask and explain but there is no place for demands and blocking roads. It seems this matter should be explained. Their claim is that the citizens of the state committed themselves in mutual guarantee to one another, and granted one another mutual insurance: if one insured party falls, his fellow will raise him, whereas if the one falls there is no second to raise him. This is not something stated explicitly in all its details, but it is among the “basic principles of the system.” And now that disability has befallen so-and-so, he comes to his partners with a claim and not with supplication, and by virtue of the agreement he says to them that he or his father originally granted them insurance in return for the insurance they granted him, and joined a solidaristic society, etc. Therefore now that he has become disabled he has a sort of contractual monetary claim against them, and he is not asking for charity. Which component here is incorrect in your view?

And the source for the method of “drawing close by pleasant ways” is Aaron the Priest, who “loved people and brought them near to Torah.”

Best regards, Hillel Feiner-Gluskinus

1. I was talking about the commitment of the rest of the Jews toward him. Like commitment to family.
2. A very interesting question. The problem is that it is hard to determine the boundaries of this mutual commitment. In halakhah there are rules that define it, but in a state there are not. The disabled argue that caring for them (that is, those additional things they demand) is part of it, and others argue that it is not. Therefore it is hard to claim that this is a right vested in them. But you are right that there is an aspect here of a rights-claim that still needs further clarification.

1. If so, if this commitment is entirely sociological, then why is it tied to halakhah? If someone converted by a “traditional” conversion without acceptance of the commandments (which in practice is sociological joining), or if it was discovered that when his mother converted Orthodox there had been an unfortunate interposition in the immersion, in the family sense it is hard to see a difference.

Because the basis of this commitment is neither emotional nor even moral. It is a halakhic matter. True, once we accept halakhah as defining who “my family” is, then this is the family and I now have moral and ethical commitments toward it. But those are the result and not the cause.

Halakhah will “define” what “family” is, and then ethical duties are imposed? Are there other examples of such a thing? [I understand that you intentionally (and rightly) are not saying that this is simply how things turned out in our world—that halakhic Jews feel family-ness toward other halakhic Jews, and therefore something-or-other.]

Ah, maybe I understood. The halakhot command family-like behavior (charity, interest, rescue), and therefore all who are bound by halakhah in practice behave familially, and then family-ness is thereby obligated and created. That is to say, halakhah is one of the channels of commitment. But in addition, the ordinary sociological familial “commitment” remains in place as among all peoples.

I thought of another example for this logic. Despite the difference between halakhic obligations (Yoreh De’ah) and legal rights and obligations (Choshen Mishpat), which I have pointed out more than once, there are halakhic obligations that create legal rights. For example, the debt by virtue of a loan is in my opinion a commandment (repayment of a creditor), but by its force a legal debt is created. The cancellation of debts in the Sabbatical year can also be seen this way, in my opinion. This is unlike charity, which is a commandment but does not create legal rights and obligations (the poor person cannot sue me, but the lender can). Similarly, there could be a commandment/halakhah (or halakhic definition) that creates a moral-ethical commitment.
The reasoning itself seems to me entirely plausible. The ordinary moral commitment is based on a contract between the two sides. After we signed a contract to be family, there is now a moral commitment (think of commitments toward an adopted child. I also mentioned my column on the value of friendship, following Susan Wolf. At the moment I cannot find it, and perhaps I only imagined it?!). So why should it matter whether the contract was signed between two human beings (or a group), or whether the Holy One, blessed be He, had us sign it, with our consent (“we will do and we will hear”) or without it (“He held the mountain over them like a barrel”)?

I found it now. Column 269, and it is Sarah Stroud and not Susan Wolf (for those among my readers who were wondering. I have now corrected my message above).
Your wording goes too far. My claim is that even if no sense of family-ness and no emotional commitment is created, there is such an ethical commitment toward my fellow members of the contract and the path. At the very beginning of your remarks you made this dependent on psychology, and I repeat that I am speaking about values.

A parent’s love for his child, even when he does not behave properly, derives from God’s love for His people—that “Israel are beloved, for they are called children of the Omnipresent”—and parents’ love for their children does not cease even when they are sunk in the “forty-nine gates of impurity.” On the contrary, a parent’s immense love for his child intensifies the pain over the child’s dismal spiritual state, and therefore when Malachi harshly rebukes Israel for their sins, he is careful to say, “I have loved you”—and in the end, “as water reflects a face to a face,” the son’s love for his parents too will reawaken.

Best regards, HPG

With God’s help, 22 Tammuz 5782

An attitude of “honor and friendship” is the ordinary attitude of Haredim toward a secular neighbor or coworker. Toward a son who has left “the path,” the parents carry a heavy load of feelings of disappointment and frustration of “I reared children and brought them up, and they…” Precisely the love for the son and the high expectations of him intensify the anger toward him.

And sometimes there is great anger because of feelings of guilt, justified or not, and thoughts such as: “If only I had done this or that, the son would not have left.” Perhaps the child was exposed to the stimuli of secularity because we did not build higher walls; and perhaps, on the other hand, we put too much pressure on the child with expectations that were too high?

Reflection on one’s educational path is good for drawing lessons in an attempt to improve, but one should not overdo it. After all, the other children who were educated by the same method remained on the path and are proceeding on it successfully. The inquiry should be made, but with awareness that not everything is under our control, and that one can only repair from a place of joy.

The moment a child reaches the age of commandments, he is an adult responsible for his own actions, and his parents bless: “Blessed is He who has exempted me from this one’s punishment”—he is no longer “the child” whom we can and are commanded to educate. He is now an adult who has been swept along, like many others, in the currents of secularity. And the more we guard ourselves from “stepping on his corns” and relate to him like a secular neighbor or relative, with “honor and friendship,” and keep “an open vein,” the more the continuing warm relationship may bring him in the near term to preserve some form of tradition, and in the long term, when he calms down from the load of negative feelings he has developed toward religion, a renewed rapprochement too will arrive, with God’s help.

Rabbi Ze’ev Karov quotes Rav Tzvi Yehuda Kook as saying that the three foundations of education are: “Patience, patience, and again patience, to which prayer also joins.” The method was learned from the many letters of Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook to R. Dov Milstein, a Torah scholar and Hasid whose sons were seized by Polish nationalism and socialism, and Rabbi Kook repeatedly encouraged him to continue maintaining contact with them. From Rabbi Ari Yitzchak Shevat’s article in the “Shabbat Supplement” of Makor Rishon, it emerges that the sons did not return in repentance, but did maintain a warm attitude toward Judaism, and one granddaughter returned to religion.

The crisis of faith that the people of Israel have undergone in recent generations is not a simple story; some are only now being exposed to it. But the experience of the collective shows continual improvement over time. If in the 1940s–50s it seemed that religion was going extinct, today the secular fear they will become a minority. Crises temper.

Best regards, Hanoch Henekh Feinshmaker-Flaty

There is also the opposite phenomenon described in Ofra Lax’s article “A Former Datlash,” of young people who “went off religion” and in their search rediscover Judaism and return to it out of choice and identification, often to a religious path different from what they were used to in “their father’s house.” Those with experience say that preserving the warm and loving connection with the parents is what makes renewed return possible. And in the words of Rabbi Nachman: “If you believe it is possible to spoil, believe it is possible to repair.”

Best regards, Chafash

Unfortunately, the attitude of Haredim toward secular neighbors is not exactly one of honor and friendship.

As I already mentioned elsewhere, the acronym “datlash” does not have to be expanded as “formerly religious.” Quite often, a young man does not find himself in his family’s path and therefore abandons religion altogether, whereas in a different religious and Torah path he would have flourished.

Thus the Novardok student Shmuel Ben-Artzi z”l abandoned meticulous observance of the commandments because his teachers opposed his immigration to the Land of Israel, and returned to Torah when, through his son Haggai, may he live long, he was exposed to the thought of Rabbi Kook, who charted the path to be among the “most scrupulous” both in Torah and in building the Land.

If there were more openness to a person being “religious, suited to a different path” in the service of God, we would have fewer “formerly religious” 🙂

Best regards, Pedatzur Fish”l Peri-Gan

A. Apparently with repayment of a debt there is a legal and moral obligation even without halakhah; halakhah here merely “recognizes” the legal and moral obligation as deriving from the halakhic one. In other words, it remains an internal matter of halakhah. So what is the comparison to our case (apart from the difference you mentioned between a halakhic obligation and a halakhic definition, which perhaps really is not critical)? In any case, if the reasoning itself seems plausible to you, then an example is not needed.

B. But from part of your remarks it seems that in fact one need not resort to a leap from halakhah to values, but only that there is a “commitment to partners in the path.” Like one partisan in the forests of France being committed to another partisan in the forests of Poland. But you speak about a “contract” that the Holy One, blessed be He, had us sign (whether under compulsion or with the consent of our ancestors), and it seems [perhaps? perhaps not.] that the matter of the contract is intended to single out commitment to the halakhic path more than other personal commitments to other paths, like that partisan or like two vegans. So I still have not grasped the depth of your view here—what role halakhah and the definition of family and the contract play in the story beyond commitment to a path. As for the Jew who denied (a former partner who abandoned the path), I understand that in any event you explain it with a secondary principle that commitment creates family-ness and it solidifies into sociology. If you explain the issue of commitment to the Jew who denied by itself, without a secondary principle, and for that purpose use the additions I did not understand, then I truly did not catch it. [By the way, after that last set of questions in which it turned out I caused concern for the well-being of the throat, I said to myself: if perhaps something will sink in, and in reading the points did not settle in my head, maybe in speech they will; so I started the YouTube series called “God and the World,” and I have already gotten through two innocent and interesting lectures. I hope later on there is discussion there of creation and free will and development and the function of the commandments.]

B2. The commitment to a Jew who left the path can be explained in two similar but slightly different ways. Perhaps the commitment is directly toward him by virtue of his being part of the family. And perhaps the commitment is toward his father (who was a partner in the path), and by virtue of that there is commitment to him and to his great-grandson and grandson. Perhaps there is a practical difference in the case of a son of a Jewish father and a non-Jewish mother.

C. And suppose we add this commitment, and also suppose that by the correct definition it filters out all the other people committed—by their own decision—to some path other than the halakhic path (I do not know if that is your view. For example, members of a religion such as worshipers of Mercury, whom I know by divine revelation to be entirely wrong—do they have a kind of family commitment? And the partisan and the vegan mentioned above), still this is a rather thin family-ness compared to, say, cohesive nationality (and productive citizenship). And since national family-ness exists anyway, what practical difference does the halakhic family-ness make?

D. [By the way, I did read (not fully) the column on friendship that you mentioned when you first mentioned it, but by mistake I wrote 260 instead of 269.]

[I replied inadvertently with one level of indentation to the right.]

B. It does not solidify into sociology. The halakhah that we accepted also determines the attitude toward every Jew, including one who left the path. One can say that halakhah itself determines this attitude, and one can also say that after halakhah determined that he is my family, we now have a commitment (ethical, not sociological-psychological).
C. I didn’t understand.

If halakhah determines it, then what connection is there to commitment to a path? Halakhah could just as well have determined for me that the group of mustached people is my family, and then, in your opinion, I would have an ethical commitment toward them?

I didn’t understand. My claim is that there is no connection to commitment to a path.
Regarding mustached people too, halakhah could have determined that, and indeed I would have had a commitment toward them. In my eyes there is no difference between mustached people and those born to a Jewish mother.

Sorry for the seemingly provocative question (which it is not), but if halakhah defined for me that the cup next to me is defined as “a poor person,” then would there be an ethical obligation to give it charity?

Yes, only I would not call it charity but redemption money for kapparot.

You write:
It seems to me he means to say that nowadays a child who has made other decisions generally does not do so deliberately, that is, from criminal motives, but because he truly thinks differently. He abandoned his faith, or at least his religious commitment, because he reached different conclusions. He now holds a different position, and we must respect that. According to my definitions above, this is a tolerant outlook based on respect for the other’s autonomy.
———
I am Haredi, and from my understanding of what goes on around him, Haredi youth who fall away generally do so out of some distress, out of a feeling that they are not understood or accepted, and out of a lack of genuine connection to Judaism and faith—rather, they received mass education that misses those who do not cooperate with it.
It is not that they have an ordered doctrine that rejects faith; rather, they lack an ordered doctrine that obligates faith. They themselves are uncertain, and since casting off the yoke of Torah and mitzvot is more comfortable for them, they turn in that direction.
Usually, their conscience awakens, and they turn to the internet to search for justifications for their path. They find attacks on the fat version of Judaism as they were educated into it, and in the absence of suitable answers they infer from this the unreliability of Judaism as a whole, including the thin version.
So one can indeed say that the particular act of Sabbath desecration they are doing now in their parents’ home is based on various justifications and not on openly criminal conduct, but it is hard to compare this to a child taken captive.
I see a great difference between someone who grew up secular and has extensive knowledge of Judaism, and someone who grew up Haredi and lacks extensive knowledge of Judaism. The point of departure greatly changes how we should regard him as coerced by his opinions.
Even if one can dispute this description of reality, I find it very hard to believe that Rabbi Edelstein does not share this description. Therefore this interpretation of his words seems strange to me.
If anything, I would read into his words a different paternalistic interpretation: Rabbi Edelstein, being a realistic person, sensed deep in his heart that struggles certainly would not help the ultimate goal, whereas an approach of honor and friendship might help. In order to fit the halakhic demands to his intuitive feeling, he needed the various constructs of child taken captive and the like.

Psychological influences do not negate a claim of coercion, nor do they mean he has no doctrine of his own. A person does not have to be a philosopher, and everyone formulates his outlook in his own ways.

[In any case, I did ask with complete seriousness. In any event, if there is some place where you elaborated more on this grandiose claim (which besides all its virtues and foundations also blurs the distinction between halakhah and other values), I would ask for a reference.]

With God’s help, eve of the holy Sabbath, “Bring them through water,” 5782

To LTG—many greetings,

In this week’s Torah portion, Matot, we see that there is a reality of sanctity even in the inanimate. After all, a vow applies sanctity to the object itself. The commandment of immersing vessels is also a kind of “conversion” for the vessel, “bringing it under the wings of the Divine Presence.” Even the animals in the spoil of Midian are counted, just as the Israelites themselves are counted.

That is to say: even the animate, the vegetative, and the inanimate upon which the name of Israel is called acquire value and importance. Therefore perhaps the Torah also forbids destroying a fruit tree under the prohibition of “do not destroy,” and therefore perhaps Jacob invested effort in saving the “small jars” as well.

Best regards, Shemaryahu Shalna HaLevi Knafi

And I answered seriously (note Poe’s Law). I would give the money; it just would not be correct to call it charity. Completely serious.
I do not see here a grandiose claim, nor even a very novel one. Nor do I see the grandiose implications you see in it (why does it blur the distinction?). In any event, I do not recall that I elaborated on it elsewhere.

(Regarding mustached people, of course the intention is not that the Torah would be given to mustached people, but that the Torah remains exactly as it stands, all as usual for Jews, and only there is an additional halakhic declaration that the family of mustached people is called family. Then the ordinary ethical commitment jumps up and says: “Family—I recognize that, and he is bound by halakhah, so I obligate him regarding mustached people.”
“Redemption money for kapparot” is a religious matter, whereas, as you repeatedly emphasized, we are dealing with an ethical commitment. So there really is ordinary charity here in every respect. And if you meant that this is like defining virtue as a triangle—that is, that the trait is irrelevant—then that should be discussed separately.)
It blurs things because now the systems (halakhah and values) talk to each other; in particular the system of values talks to halakhah, and halakhah can quite easily recruit ethical commitment as it wishes. No? (Actually I do not believe I understood you correctly. But I read it once and twice, so I do not know what to say.)

The expression “redemption money for kapparot” was said sarcastically. I mean that I would give the money, but it would not be charity; rather, it would be a commandment to give money.
I didn’t understand the claim about values and halakhah. My claim is that halakhah determines that Jews are like family, and that obligates me ethically and also halakhically (I raised the two possibilities) toward them. What is the problem with that? I have already lost the thread of the discussion.

On the matter of charity I still have not sorted it out, but it makes no practical difference.
The problem is that the possibility that ethical commitment takes an interest in the “determinations” of halakhah—that is, plain halakhic decisions that one thing is defined as another thing—seems to me simply utterly implausible. Not that I am weighing two sides of it; I do not see the side at all. But it does seem that the specific argument here in favor of the family of Jews, detached from the ethnic family, has been clarified sufficiently.

As Ponovizher commented here, it seems to me the point was missed.
The attitude today is much less one that recognizes the legitimacy of different opinions; it contains them only because “really that is not truly their opinion,” or not really an opinion at all.
In practice, 100 and 200 years ago these children were called heretics and deniers. That is a recognition and perception (and perhaps ultimately even respect) that do not exist today.

This is an interpretive debate. I do not agree. The claim that if I am right then clearly whoever disagrees with me is mistaken is simple logic. Therefore, when one says that the other is mistaken, it does not mean one does not recognize the legitimacy of his position. I have written here more than once that there is a difference between pluralism (a multiplicity of correct opinions) and tolerance (containing incorrect opinions).
Sometimes a person expresses himself in a certain way because he is not aware of the distinctions between the concepts, and then his intention is not necessarily what he actually says.

With God’s help, 27 Tammuz 5782

Similar to the Hazon Ish’s advice to preserve “the connecting thread” with a son who “left the path” was his instruction to Rabbi Yehoshua Yogel (founder of Midrashiyat Noam) not to distance a problematic student unless he is corrupting his friends. For as long as the student “remains within the framework,” there is hope for improvement; but the moment he is “thrown into the street,” the chance of repair diminishes.

Best regards, Shevuel HaLevi Gershonovsky, may he live long

https://youtu.be/q7-qOfnXJCo
The same questioner with a different respondent. Here only the consideration of “placing a stumbling block before the blind” appears, without “a child taken captive” and coercion.

And here is an article by the aforementioned questioner:
https://www.theyeshivaworld.com/news/general/1450235/dealing-with-children-who-have-gone-off-the-derech-a-response-to-the-kiryas-yoel-publication.html

With God’s help, 28 Tammuz 5782

Apparently one can circumvent the unpleasantness of a Haredi parent who personally goes to buy immodest clothing by giving spending money that would allow the son/daughter to buy what he/she wants. That way the child would also feel more independent.

Best regards, Shevuel HaLevi Gershonovsky, may he live long

With all due respect, it is not even tolerance.
Tolerance recognizes a person who thought and came to different conclusions. I disagree with his conclusions, I think he is mistaken, but I do not dispute the thinking process itself. I do not dispute the fact that he thought.
In the Haredi public this does not exist. There is a list of reasons by which departure is explained away, but none of them is “he thought and reached incorrect conclusions.” It is perceived as an emotional, impulsive, childish, weak act, with traumas or desires in the background/history.
In simple words, the “problem” is with the person himself and not with his opinions.
This has nothing whatsoever to do with tolerance, but rather with negating the person and his opinions. I will maintain my view that calling such a son a heretic would be a more respectful step.

By the way, this is sometimes also expressed even where there is room for pluralism. There are people who would relate in the same way to a son who left the community and the specific stream to which they belong without giving up religion entirely. In such a case, logically speaking, there is clearly room to accept his opinions, but because in general such steps are perceived as thoughtless acts, it spills over into this case as well.

The respect that the young man asks for ought to be mutual. If you are an independent person living according to the norms you set for yourself—then also let the “other” live according to his own understanding.

You come into the home of religious people, even if they “happen” to be your parents—it is permissible for you to respect your hosts and refrain from desecrating Shabbat and from provocative dress in their home. And certainly a Haredi person should not have to purchase for you a garment that is forbidden to wear according to halakhah. Live as you wish, but at your own expense.

Best regards, Kalonymus Chana Bavli-Radlisher

Paragraph 1, line 2
… then also let the “other” live according to his own understanding.

May I say that as a secular person I see the term “a child taken captive” as condescending. Although this is not stated explicitly, the intent embedded in it is: “What I think is the right thing, and what he thinks is the wrong thing, but he has mitigating circumstances.” On the other hand, a look at plain reality shows that in the overwhelming majority of cases human beings hold the belief in which they were raised and educated, or else they hold no belief at all. Very few are the cases in which they hold a belief different from the one they grew up with. Therefore I think that everyone who holds the belief in which he was raised and educated is in the category of a child taken captive, even if afterward he justified his belief to himself with all sorts of pseudo-rational arguments in order to exempt himself in his own eyes from the category of “a child taken captive.” This article gives a somewhat halakhic discussion of the attitude that should be taken toward children who leave. Unfortunately, it is a discussion from only one side’s standpoint. Family members who leave deserve to be treated as family members and to be listened to when they have something to say. Usually, abandoning Torah comes together with abandoning belief, and it is not an act of “provocation.” Most children respect and love their parents and have no interest in angering them. As in other arenas of life, peace and understanding come through dialogue, listening, and genuine mutual respect.

You certainly may, since on this site one is also allowed to say mistaken things. If I think X, then in my opinion whoever thinks “not X” is mistaken. That is simple logic. I can attribute the mistake of someone who disagrees with me either to stupidity or to mitigating circumstances. “A child taken captive” offers the interpretation of mitigating circumstances. You prefer the interpretation that you are stupid? That sounds less complimentary to me, no?
In any case, if using logic is perceived by you as condescension, then I am indeed condescending.
Who spoke about “to provoke” or “not to provoke”? What does that have to do with the question of listening? This message is really a riddle.

“You certainly may, since on this site one is also allowed to say mistaken things” is condescension. An example of non-condescending wording would be: “You certainly may, since on this site one is also allowed to say things that I think are mistaken.”
“I can attribute the mistake of someone who disagrees with me either to stupidity or to mitigating circumstances”—that is condescending wording.
“I can attribute the words of someone who disagrees with me either to the possibility that I am mistaken or to the possibility that the one who disagrees with me is mistaken”—that is non-condescending wording.
As for stupidity, some people thought otherwise and awarded me the title of professor of mathematics at age 36. I do not think I have become more stupid since then, or less understanding of logic.
“Who spoke about ‘to provoke’ or ‘not to provoke’? What does that have to do with the question of listening?”
In general, your posts can and do serve as a trigger for expressing views on the subject you are discussing, even if they do not directly relate to something you wrote, or relate to something you mentioned only in passing and which is not the central topic of the post. Remember that you have followers on this site, and I am also allowed to address them in my comments. That is the solution to the riddle.
My impression from your blunt language, unfortunately, is that you are angry about something. True, I am not participating in the halakhic discussion in which you invest most of your energy, because to me that is the dry and boring part, and I am also not well versed in it. Even so, the attitude of religious people toward those who leave religion is an interesting topic in many ways and not only in the halakhic aspect. Among other things, I am responding here as a self-appointed representative of those who go off religion, whose voice is very rare here, and I think the religious public that reads your posts deserves to get to know that side as well.
I would also be glad if you would address what I wrote on the topic of believers as children taken captive.

With God’s help, eve of the holy Sabbath, “Speak to the heart,” 5782

To Yossi—many greetings,

It is understandable that people are hurt when they are defined, as it were, as a “child,” but the term “a child taken captive” is a term thousands of years old which originally referred to someone who was taken captive among the gentiles in childhood and did not know Judaism; because of that he was considered “an inadvertent sinner close to being coerced” in all that he transgressed against Jewish law, for he had “mitigating circumstances” at the highest level.

Today the same lenient halakhic term is also used regarding people who were in fact exposed in childhood to Judaism, but we judge them favorably, since they were drawn after the highway of modern culture that floods the world with arguments of heresy, while on the other hand they did not merit an in-depth study of the values of Judaism and its faith, and they are dragged after the distorted presentation of Judaism that is “sold” to them from every side.

No one relates to them as “children.” There is simply a halakhic term here that was established because in the old reality ignorance of Judaism existed only in the case of “a child taken captive,” whereas today even an adult and educated person may display ignorance in Jewish thought. For some reason it is not clear to them that matters of faith and opinion require no less investment and depth than any other scientific field.

Best regards, Eliam Fish”l Wurkeheimer

I too, in my youth, was annoyed by mathematicians’ use of the unhealthy, sugar-laden term “pie,” until they calmed me down by explaining that it is simply the name of a Greek letter 🙂

A. I wrote to you that I disagree with you on the question of condescension. If I arrive at the conclusion X, then the conclusion required by my position is that whoever holds “not X” is mistaken. That is all. There is no connection here to condescension. It is simple logic.
B. I understand that for some reason there is a need to clarify the following point, although it is not clear to me why. I did not write that I am certainly right or that you are certainly mistaken (even according to my own approach). What I wrote is that you are mistaken, and that is indeed what I think. Am I forbidden to say that you are mistaken? In your opinion that is condescending? I will add that when I express a position, it is by definition my own position. Therefore I see no need to state that. Hence I do not understand why, when I do not state it, I am considered by you condescending. Your notion of condescension seems very strange to me (indeed: mistaken).
C. Regarding your addressing the readers, that is of course entirely legitimate, but you should make clear that you are addressing them and exactly what you are referring to. It is supposed to have some connection to the discussion. If in the midst of a discussion with me on one matter you suddenly raise another question addressed to the readers, it is very unclear, and that is a shame.
D. The sentence you quoted at the beginning was written ironically. It was meant to express, with irony, my claim that there is not the slightest trace of condescension in my saying that you are mistaken. Indeed, on the internet there is a problem, because there are no intonations and no body language (there is some law with a name that explains the need for emoticons). I did not add an emoticon because I thought it was obvious. But be that as it may, even if you do not understand the irony in the remark, there is no condescension here. See sections A–B.
E. As for academic titles, I have already met so many people with one academic title or another who talk nonsense, sometimes even in their own field, that you will forgive me if I am not impressed by that. But this too is irrelevant to the discussion, because I did not write that you are stupid, if only because I do not know you. I said that according to my approach there are two ways to interpret the mistake of someone who disagrees with me (assuming I am right; see section B). The third possibility you presented—that I am mistaken—always exists, of course, and I wrote nothing to the contrary. But that is something I am supposed to take into account before formulating my position (again, see section B). After I formulate the position and arrive at a conclusion, those are the two possibilities left before me for interpreting the position of the dissenter: either he is stupid or something is misleading him.
F. I am really not angry. I respond with sarcasm and irony, as is my way. Again, the lack of emoticons.
G. And now I will nevertheless address the claims you made in the original message (the readers probably did not understand that these were questions to them):
1. The interpretation you offered of the facts—that a person usually holds the positions in which he was educated—is not necessary. I, for example, disagree with it (that is, in my opinion you are mistaken on this matter, if I may add a non-condescending statement). According to this logic, let us examine the fact that someone who studied geometry thinks that the sum of the angles in a triangle is 180, while someone who did not study might think there is no fixed sum. Do you think this means there is no truth in the matter, that everyone is a child taken captive? I assume that here we would agree that those who did not study are mistaken. Is saying this condescending in your opinion? Sometimes education and help from teachers or the environment and the like are needed in order to recognize the truth, and someone who did not receive that help will not recognize it. Since I regard faith as the rational and logical conclusion, the explanation for why someone who grew up in a secular environment usually remains secular is that he did not receive the tools that would help him arrive at the truth (this is what is called, in the halakhic language that is absolutely not condescending, “a child taken captive”). A multiplicity of positions is a fact. The conclusion you drew from it—that there is a multiplicity of truths—does not follow from it at all.
By the way, your conception implies that there is no point in arguing about anything, since everything someone says is merely the result of the captivity into which he fell against his will, whether at birth or later in life. So in an argument I can at most capture him in another direction. What is the point of all this?
2. You are completely right that there are believing people who are children taken captive. These are people who did not trouble themselves to formulate a worldview of their own and simply continue on the path into which they happened to fall. So in that case they are on the right path (in my opinion), but they certainly can be called children taken captive even according to my approach. By the way, I have written more than once that people who received a religious education and even know the whole Torah by heart, but abandoned their religious commitment, can be considered children taken captive. Information is not the relevant parameter here. The relevant question is whether they think this is a kind of “Indian culture,” meaning that they have some kind of interest in this material but it is not really relevant to them, or whether they understand that it obligates them.
3. As for listening to every person, including those who have gone off religion, that is entirely acceptable to me. Not only in order to create human relations or to be polite and moral, but because perhaps they are right and I can learn something from them and change something in my positions. I have written more than once that openness is an obligation from the standpoint of rationality (since I can never be certain that I am right), and it has no connection to the question of pluralism (the philosophical view that there are multiple truths), and not even to the question of tolerance (a value question concerning one’s attitude to others and their views). But as noted, that is not the topic here.
I hope that now I have answered (from my own point of view) all the points you raised.

To Eliam, hello.
First, I thank you for responding to my words in a pleasant tone that encourages me to answer you in a language that draws near rather than distances.
For me, the term “a child taken captive” refers, among other things (perhaps it has several meanings, but I am “latching onto” one of them), to a person who, in the years when his worldview was being formed, was under decisive influence from the people around him—whether his parents, his teachers, or his close environment—when, because of his young age, these things were engraved at the deepest level of his soul and his critical capacity was not yet ripe. Even afterward, when critical ability developed in him, many times he is captive to the “operating system” installed in him when he was very young and engraved in the deepest layers of his mind, and it is hard to remove it from there. Religious people see some of those who leave religion as children taken captive, whereas I see believers as a much better example of a child taken captive.
When I see a baby born to a Haredi mother, I can predict with a high chance of success what his religious outlook will be when he grows up. I can also predict what his language will be and what his clothing will be with a high degree of success. Likewise if I see a baby born to a Muslim mother, or a Christian mother, or a Hindu mother, or an atheist mother. The statistical significance of the connection between a person’s upbringing and developmental environment and his belief, his language, and—if I also know what city he will grow up in—even which soccer team will be his favorite, is very evident to the eye. There are things I cannot guess with such success—such as what profession he will choose, or what kind of woman he will choose to marry. Regarding those things that I can predict in advance with high probability—for me, that person is a child taken captive. But there is one thing that differs between the language he speaks and his faith. If he speaks Hebrew, he still will not defend it with sacred anxiety as the best language in the world—not in grammar, not in richness of expression, not in script, and not in any other respect. He understands that it is his language, and that others use other languages, perhaps better in certain parameters and perhaps not. In matters of faith it is different—every child taken captive believes that his faith is superior to other faiths, and this without having studied in depth not Islam, nor Hinduism or Buddhism or Christianity, nor any one of the ten thousand different faiths rolling around our world. Here the child taken captive is captive in the deepest way, because he has to choose only one option. I know many people who speak several languages, but I do not know people who espouse several faiths. In my opinion, if you want to claim that your faith is the correct one, you must study other faiths in depth as well, and you must also listen to and respect scientists who specialize all their lives in certain subjects. I have heard religious people say that evolution is only a scientific theory and that it is certainly possible it is incorrect. I am not sure they studied it deeply.
I know that when a religious person flies in an airplane, he places his life in the palm of many scientific theories in various fields, such that if there is an error in one of them, the airplane may crash. And suddenly only evolution is not true, because here the deep layers of what that child taken captive learned in his youth cry out from within him, since evolution contradicts what he learned and repeated all his life.
I would greatly respect a person who chose Judaism after sitting and studying for at least several years the main points of other religions in which billions of people believe. In addition, a person would need to study at least the sciences that touch his faith, such as archaeology, ancient history, the study of ancient writings, linguistics, biblical criticism, zoology, and more.
“My faith is correct because I was born into it”—that, in my opinion, is the correct description of the phenomenon of a child taken captive, or in somewhat blunter words, brainwashing—it is hard to free oneself from it. “Maccabi Tel Aviv is the best team in the country because I am from Tel Aviv” is very similar to it, and both are most likely not true.

A response to point 2.
If a baby is born somewhere in the world and I do not know where, my ability to guess what his worldview will be when he grows up is very small and depends only on the numerical distribution of religions in the world. If I am given the information, “this baby was born to observant parents in Haifa,” the probability that I will guess what his worldview will be when he grows up rises dramatically. In professional terms we say that there is a very high concordance everywhere in the world between the variable “the parents’ worldview” and the variable “the newborn’s future worldview.” I call this concordance “a child taken captive.” If, for example, I were asked to guess what model of car the baby will buy when he grows up, information about his parents’ worldview would not help me much, because the concordance between the parents’ worldview and the model of car the baby will buy is much lower. Naturally, when that baby grows up he will try to justify his worldview by studying it deeply, but presumably he will not study with equal depth the foundations of Tibetan Buddhism or the beliefs of Australian Aborigines. If that same baby grows up and tells me that in fact he lives in a Tibetan monastery and his worldview is Tibetan Buddhist, I would still say that at birth he was a child taken captive, but that he belongs to the rare types who managed to free themselves from their captivity.
“A child taken captive” is not a pejorative term, and the overwhelming majority of us are such. All it means is that if variable A (the parents’ worldview) is a random variable, and the concordance between it and the variable “the baby’s worldview” is close to 1, then the baby’s worldview is also a random variable, no matter how much he stands on his head and waves his legs and screams that it is not.

Your thesis as you formulate it in the concluding lines is simply mistaken, and I am very surprised to hear this from a professor of mathematics. It is even more surprising because I explained this in point 1 (which you certainly read if you are responding to point 2). If variable X is random and there is a high correlation between it and variable Y, it does not at all follow that variable Y is also random.
Throughout your message you confuse correlation with causation. Correlation between two variables does not mean there is a causal connection between them, and certainly does not indicate the direction of that connection (at least until one performs regression analysis).
Let us consider an example. When a fire breaks out in a forest, fire trucks always arrive there. The outbreak of fire is a random variable; there is a very high correlation between it and the arrival of fire trucks, but the arrival of the fire trucks is the product of a reasoned human decision (that is, very much not a random variable). Another example (taken from my point 1): whether someone studied geometry is a random variable (if he was born to a tribe in Africa, there is a good chance he did not). Everyone who studied geometry knows that the sum of the angles of a triangle is 180. Is the statement that the sum is 180 a random variable? Does he not adopt this through judgment, but arbitrarily or because of circumstances?
I will add that even if there is a causal correlation, you are still not exempt from showing its direction. Thus, for example, I would not recommend avoiding dieting because everyone who diets is fat. I would not recommend that fire trucks avoid going to the site of a fire because whenever fire trucks arrive there is a fire. To claim that variable Y is random, you need to show there is a correlation between it and variable X, show that it is causal, and show the direction of the causality. Correlation by itself does not indicate a causal connection.
Now let us return to our subject. As you wrote, the fact that someone is born into a home of type X (secular or religious) is a random variable. Does that necessarily mean that the worldview he adopts is a random variable? You claim that it does. That is of course possible, but you present it as a mathematical/statistical fact. I am truly astonished by your answer. Especially since, as noted, I explained this very point in point 1.
You can now understand that the term “a child taken captive” does not describe correlation but causation. If the circumstances affected the person (and only if in a deterministic way, so very high correlation certainly does not suffice. You need correlation of 1, or nearly 1), then he is a child taken captive. If there is a correlation between the circumstances and his beliefs/actions (even if the correlation is 1), that does not mean he is a child taken captive. Thus, for example, no one (except perhaps you) would dream of exempting a rapist or thief from punishment because he was born into a difficult home or grew up in circumstances that led him to act that way. Only if he acts in a way in which he had no choice because the circumstances forced him (with probability 1, or at least nearly 1) is he exempt from punishment and does not bear responsibility for his actions.
If you would like to read more about the relation between correlation and causation, you are invited to my series of columns on the topic (459 and onward).

Okay. Instead of writing this in terms not understandable to every reader, I will write it in terms every reader can understand.
If you had been born in India to Hindu parents, you would most likely have believed in Hinduism and defended your religion with the same fervor with which you defend Judaism today. If you had been born in Saudi Arabia, you would have fervently defended Sunni Islam, and if you had been born in Iran, you would probably have fervently defended Shiite Islam. I say this because empirical observation shows that the overwhelming majority of children hold their parents’ faith. There are exceptions, but the overwhelming majority are such. The required conclusion is that your parents’ faith has a decisive influence on your faith. Even if it seems to you that your faith is completely free of any outside influence, reality shows otherwise. Even if you studied and reviewed and memorized, usually you did so regarding the faith into which you were born. You did not study and review and learn the rationale of other religions. (With regard to them, you are like that person who did not study geometry.) It is very simple, and mountains of words about correlation and causation and geometry and direction cannot obscure it. You are a child taken captive in the Jewish faith mainly because of the education you received from your earliest years and the personal example of your parents. If it seems to you that the Jewish religion is the correct one and that God chose us from among all nations, and that this has nothing to do with the brainwashing you underwent from your parents, teachers, and environment—then that is yet another symptom of the typical defensiveness of a child taken captive. As simple as that!

After it became clear that what you wrote was a collection of mistakes from beginning to end, you repeat them in different words and then call this AS SIMPLE AS THAT. That is what you also did with respect to my previous message, where for some reason you chose to ignore all the errors I pointed out and address only point 2 (and even there you were mistaken).
So I will repeat my answer one last time, because my throat is getting a little hoarse. You are mistaken again, and astonishingly in the very same mistake that I already explained to you. Correlation is not causation, and this is certainly true of a correlation that is not 1. Indeed, my parents’ faith influences my views, and I never claimed otherwise. Only a fool would deny that. My claim is that even if this is true, it does not necessarily mean that I do not form positions on my own or that I am not responsible for my positions. And that is for two reasons: 1. Because there are exceptions who decide differently from their parents (which you too mentioned), meaning that in the end a person does form positions on his own. 2. And also because my parents may operate on me in the manner of teachers (as in the geometry example I brought) and not necessarily in the manner of trainers, as you assume. All this, of course, I already explained, but you choose to ignore it. I also mentioned that according to your method there is no point discussing any position, because every position is merely the landscape of its birthplace, and discussion of those positions too is equally forced on us. And of course according to your approach one must not judge anyone for his deeds either (morally or legally), since he is compelled to them by the landscape of his birthplace.
That is it; I think I have exhausted the matter, unless, unexpectedly, something new should arise here for a change.

You have apparently exhausted your ability to answer substantively. From my extensive experience in discussions with people of faith, apparently one cannot expect more. Cognitive dissonance does its work.

With God’s help, 19 Av 5782

To Yossi—many greetings,

The whole business of defining the other as “a child taken captive,” meaning that his views are dictated by outside influence, as an argument pretending to win a debate—is irrelevant. In the end one must address the arguments and not the arguers. After all, in the end every person is influenced by his parents or his teachers, and to that extent is a “child taken captive.” One does not find a person who comes to a discussion as a “tabula rasa.”

The halakhic use of “a child taken captive” did not come to exempt us from answering the secularists’ arguments on their merits, but to allow an attitude of “honor and friendship” toward secular Jews in our day. That is, not to treat them as “deniers,” regarding whom halakhah assumed that their opinions do not stem from a search for truth but from stubbornness rooted in desires, and therefore there is no point in discussion with them. They are “willful sinners” and not “mistaken.”

By contrast, if we assume that a nonbeliever is sincere and upright in his thinking, but simply mistaken, lacking a deep enough understanding of Judaism, or struggling with scientific or moral questions regarding its positions, then there is sense in discussion with him; we will try to answer his arguments and explain and substantiate the Torah’s position.

Best regards, A.P.R.

By the way, the fact that Judaism was for most of history a “nation taken captive,” whose unique faith not only differed from the accepted faith in the world, but also “earned” it hatred and persecution from “the whole world and his wife”—is actually an argument in favor of its truth and divine origin.

How is it that a small and persecuted nation manages to endure “like a sheep among seventy wolves,” and even to influence all humanity to accept at least some of its beliefs and values? How did the poor, scattered, divided nation “infect” humanity with the germ of monotheism, belief in the “Book of Books,” values of charity and kindness, and a weekly day of rest?

And how is it that that same nation, harshly persecuted by its “disciples,” who denied the source of their faith until they rose to destroy it—yet precisely after the terrible Holocaust rose from the ashes and renewed its life in its ancient homeland, in fulfillment of the prophets’ vision, “And the Lord your God will return and gather you from all the peoples”? Is there any parallel to a nation that was in exile and persecution for thousands of years and succeeds in rising anew to independent life and flourishing in its ancient land? Have you ever seen such a thing?

Another advantage of Judaism is its conception that it is a religious commandment incumbent on everyone to delve into Torah, to ask, to challenge, and to argue. Rabbinic literature is full of heated disputes, in biblical interpretation, in Talmud and halakhah, and in religious thought as well. It is hard to claim in such an atmosphere that someone accustomed to critically examining everything simply buys what is “sold” to him without criticism.

Best regards, A.P.R.

And sometimes honor and friendship need to begin within the camp itself. When one gives respectful treatment to Torah scholars and those who do good, even if there is one Torah criticism or another of their path, the student internalizes that “the wise shall inherit honor” and will continue to honor his parents and teachers even if he does not accept their path. For the sages taught us: “Who is honored? He who honors others.”

Best regards, Hanoch Henekh Feinshmaker-Flaty

Rabbi, I think there are two points you did not raise in the discussion with Yossi concerning the relation between parental influence and faith.
1. In religion there are usually many competing religions, each backed by all sorts of arguments and believers, and the person who retains his own faith does not really know the other religions in depth. So the question is whether familiarity with only one religion is enough.
2. Religious belief depends heavily on many other planes besides theological and philosophical arguments, unlike the geometry example he gave—there is an interface with many scientific fields such as ancient history and archaeology. In this area too, the religious person is usually not sufficiently versed, because it may be that one of his religious claims contradicts many scientific disciplines that are widely accepted and well grounded, and he is unaware of this.

These two branches create an essential difference between religion and a geometry lesson in school.

With God’s help, 20 Av 5782

To Y’—many greetings,

As for your claim that one must know all the religions in the world: polytheistic religions do not accord with a scientific world that assumes one lawfulness throughout the universe. And as for the monotheistic religions—they all begin with Judaism, whose tradition begins with the testimony of hundreds of thousands who witnessed the revelation at Sinai and testified about it to their children and their children’s children, who preserved it despite exile and persecution.

By contrast, no one was present at the revelation claimed by the founders of Christianity and Islam. They succeeded in spreading widely both because they offered “instant monotheism,” without the heavy and detailed burden of commandments found in Judaism, and because they became “state religions” enforced by the power of regimes that built empires, and thus they reached hundreds of millions who absorbed the hegemonic religion that for centuries was the ruling faith.

By contrast, the Jews have lived for more than two thousand years as a powerless minority within a hostile religious and cultural hegemony, and nevertheless preserved their faith and character. And astonishingly, not only did the people of Israel survive, but they returned to their land after thousands of years of exile, as envisioned by the prophets.

One of Judaism’s additional advantages is literacy, which obligates the Jew to study, ask questions, and argue; thus they could and can also cope culturally with cultural or scientific arguments that purport to contradict it. And they “picked up the gauntlet,” addressed the difficulties and arguments, and provided answers.

Rambam, Rav Saadia Gaon, and Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi dealt in their day with Aristotelian philosophy, which was dominant. Maharal of Prague engaged with the scientists of his generation, Johannes Kepler and Tycho Brahe. In our generation there are hundreds of Jews observant of the commandments who are scientists of global stature, both in the exact sciences and in history and archaeology. Many of them came דווקא from a secular background, where science itself brought them to Judaism.

Best regards, A.P.R.

And thus, opposite Yossi the former-religious one, who was appointed professor of mathematics at age 36, one can set the opposite example: Professor Joseph Bernstein, who grew up in a secular background in Soviet Russia and was appointed professor of mathematics in Maryland at age 36, and underwent the opposite process that brought him to faith and Judaism.

Whoever is interested can find specific discussions on issues of “Torah and science” in Dr. Aharon Barak’s book Our Generation מול Questions of Eternity, and on the sites “Ratio” and “Lada’at Leha’amin.”

Regarding evolution and the creation story, it should be noted that the creation story presents a development from the simple to the complex. See the proposal of the physicist Professor Nathan Aviezer in In the Beginning God Created, where he finds a parallel between the stages of creation described by science and those described in Genesis, while “days” in biblical language can also mean periods. Aviezer notes, for example, that what the Torah says—that the world began with “Let there be light”—corresponds exactly to the description of the “Big Bang.”

In any event, some two thousand years before the discoveries of science, the sages spoke of 974 generations of human creatures that were supposed to exist before Adam, and of worlds that were created and destroyed before our world. “The work of creation” was defined by the sages as “secrets of the Torah,” where apparently they are not to be understood literally, but rather as a schematic description.

Ummm, I understood everything except the polytheism part. If it does not accord as you say, then why does it still exist? Apparently you have not understood their theology deeply enough. And then the question returns accordingly.
Besides that, one can create a dualistic religion, and so on.

I actually meant less the Torah-and-science issue, especially since nowadays it is something fairly anachronistic.
Rather, I meant relatively whole and central parts of the dominant faculties in the humanities, which almost all present a thesis that is non-religious or anti-religious.

With God’s help, 21 Av 5782

To Y’—many greetings,

The stories of the pagan mythologies, full of jealousy and rivalry among the gods, do not exactly tempt me to look there for profound theology. I leave you the honor of going there and summarizing your discoveries, for the benefit of the site’s readers. I make do with the juicy quarrels of our politicians 🙂

In any case, from the various mythologies it seems that they too believed in one supreme God, but claimed that He left the world to autonomous “subcontractors” who would fight among themselves over running the world, as Rambam explains at the beginning of the laws of idolatry. Judaism, by contrast, proposed that the Creator of the world and the One who formed its laws is also interested in the “small details” and demands moral behavior from them. That sounds more inviting 🙂

Best regards, Menashe Barkai-Buchterger

Maharal proposes (in his book Netzach Yisrael, chapter 3, viewable on Wikitext) an explanation for the error of the idol worshippers. Their claim was based on the fact that the world appears as an aggregate of opposing forces wrestling with each other. Their question was: “How does multiplicity emerge from one Creator?”

Maharal offers the philosophical answer in the theory of “a beginning that gradually perfects itself.” There is a primary creature, which by virtue of being “created” is lacking, and therefore the Creator must bestow another creature that will complete the first. The opposites in creation lead at the initial stage to conflict and struggle, but “at the end of the day” the “dialectic” will arrive at “harmony.”

By the way, Maharal’s explanation of a creation that gradually perfects itself invites a world that develops in an evolutionary manner!

Best regards, Menash”b

1. You can never be certain, but nobody has a real possibility of checking all the options. Therefore one makes decisions under conditions of uncertainty.
2. One does not need deep expertise in those fields (even professionals there do not have clear information, and in most questions we are dealing with conjectures). Again, one makes decisions under conditions of uncertainty.

But these two points are unrelated to the question of geometry. I did not compare religion to geometry; I used geometry as an example to show that the interpretation that turns correlation into causation is not necessary.