What Is a Rabbi, and Who Counts as One? (Column 163)

The first certified engineers and lawyers were created on the eve of the Sabbath at twilight, no?

It’s a wonder the serpent and the staff didn’t wipe them out and throw them into the well.

Unfortunately, I think that if “Mr. Michael Abraham” wants to be called “Rabbi Michael Abraham,” there is one simple thing he needs to do—buy a hat and suit, and the crown of the rabbinate will be showered upon him immediately.

I already explained why it’s impossible to dress up as a rebbe. 🙂

Does that female rabbi you quote observe all 613 commandments? Isn’t she Reform?

I’ll explain my question: assuming she is Reform (that’s how I understood it), does she really “study the sources of halakhah and decide together with the questioner on the basis of what emerges from them”? As far as I know, the Reform do not observe the overwhelming majority of the commandments.

She is Reform, yes, and I assume she does not observe halakhah in the accepted sense.

So? For clarifications about her, I suggest you ask her.

If she doesn’t observe the commandments, then the process she describes here is fake and meaningless. She studies the sources of halakhah, but clearly if she comes across a commandment that doesn’t suit her (for example, a Sabbath desecrator is liable to stoning), she won’t accept it.
So maybe this text describes a process that could be correct in an Orthodox context, but it’s hard to accept that she actually intended the meaning you described here.

Is he her defense attorney?!
He only said that this description is what ought to happen, in his opinion.
Apparently the possibilities would be described differently…

Industrialization and the mechanism of the division of labor have killed almost the entire Yoreh De’ah side of the rabbi’s work. There are hardly any questions anymore about chickens and adhesions in the lung, which used to be the daily bread of rabbis in earlier generations. Only city rabbis, and of course the various kashrut apparatuses, still need those questions. Even in the area of family purity, purity examiners and halakhic advisors are taking a bite out of it. Innocently, I would say that there’s no need for a rabbi, and yet most communities choose some sort of spiritual leader and crown him with the title “rabbi.”

I’ve really decided to stop responding to all these foolish comments, and to all those who are incapable of reading a column, understanding what it says, and responding from the head rather than from the belly. I’ve already deleted one comment here. I’m beginning to think it’s better to be Reform than to belong to Orthodoxy if what it produces is childish and idiotic reactions of this kind. Maybe the site should be open only to readers over age 16…

But I can’t resist turning the question back to you: what do you do when you come to the command to kill Amalek, to stone a Sabbath desecrator, to lower heretics into a pit and not pull them out, not to resort to gentile courts, not to appoint women and converts to any office, and the like? You, like almost all Orthodox decisors faithful to halakhah (not Reform, Heaven forbid), say that our hands are not strong enough, juggle this or that halakhic concept (“there is no one in our generation who knows how to rebuke”), or perhaps rule it only in principle and not in practice, so that in the end nobody will think of carrying out these holy laws. And yet when someone puts these things on the table honestly, he is accused of not being faithful to halakhah.
This remark concerns only the question of stoning Sabbath desecrators, since that is what came up here. None of this implies any identification with, or defense of, the Reform and their path, with which I do not agree, nor have I written anywhere that I do agree with it (on the contrary, I wrote the opposite). With this I am done with this foolish discussion.

That is a very correct point. Nowadays there are virtual rabbis, and in fact they are usually better than the local ones. On the internet you can choose whom to turn to, and you are not limited to the one appointed in your community. Indeed, the issue of halakhic response is undergoing a change, and it deserves attention. It may be worthwhile to choose a virtual rabbi and a physical (or physiological 🙂 ) communal leader.
Of course, if the rabbi conducts himself as I think he should (and as Tamar also describes), then it is harder to do this virtually. The rabbi should study the sugya with the questioner, point out the various paths, and guide him while he himself makes the decision for himself. That is a role for a real rabbi, not a virtual one, and that is indeed how he should act. Black-and-white yes/no answers can also be received by text message.
And note well: this is not the usual criticism of SMS responsa. In the format of final halakhic ruling, SMS responsa are excellent. The criticisms about the lack of reasoning are nonsense. What questioner needs reasoning? He wants an answer. My criticism is not of SMS responsa, but on the contrary of the rabbis who are not answering by SMS yet behave like SMS responsa instead of behaving as I describe here.

I don’t know what aroused your wrath; all I did was remark that the mode of decision-making described here does not match the “decision-making” of the Reform.
As for the other questions, they all have answers. Capital punishments do not apply because we have no ordained courts; Amalek does not apply because Sennacherib mixed up the nations; “they are lowered but not raised” did indeed apply with respect to informers even in very late generations; and going to gentile courts is indeed a prohibition that still applies today.
Don’t you think so about all of the above (I’m asking in the most matter-of-fact way possible)? In your understanding, is there no obligation to obey all these laws (when the appropriate conditions are met)?

I explained very well what aroused my wrath: that people read these things like children and react to side stimuli in an irrelevant way.
I referred you to her if you have questions about her way of ruling and its fit with Reform (though I think it should fit them). But you keep turning it back to me in an incomprehensible way. What does that have to do with what I wrote? This is childish. Children grab onto whatever point touches them immediately, even if it is irrelevant and not really connected to what was said.
Think of a person who reads a thick book with many important and significant ideas (in my opinion), and among other things on page 327 there is a three-sentence description of a situation in which the author passes by a crow pecking at oat grains. His response to the book is an argument that crows don’t peck at such grains. Well, maybe that crow did peck them (or maybe it didn’t…). If you’re dissatisfied, the author tells him, turn to the crow and ask why it does that (the crow has a website where you can contact it). Then that same person comes back to the author and says again that it seems reasonable to him that consistent crows ought not peck at such grains, and adds: really, what do you want from me? I’m being entirely substantive. Does that sound familiar to you? Not childish?

As for all the other questions, they have no answers. These are pilpulim intended to reach the desired conclusion (incidentally, when murderers increased there were ordained judges). Incidentally, I agree with some of them; I’m just pointing out to you a similar criticism that you could direct at yourself if you weren’t biased. But as I said, I won’t enter here into a discussion of those matters. If you want, we can do it in a separate thread. And on matters of Reform and Tamar—please address her directly.

But crows really do peck at oat grains!

I was waiting for that question. My answer: and Reform Jews probably do engage in halakhah too (in some fashion).

David Weiss Halivni describes in his book that he withdrew from the leadership of JTS because of their decision to ordain a woman as a rabbi (if I am not mistaken), and he writes that he did so after turning over every possible leniency and finding no way to permit it. That is why I am convinced that one cannot appoint a woman as a rabbi, because in truth I do not find a reason—but he is wiser than I am, and he tried to permit it and claims it is impossible. If our teacher the rabbi would be willing to explain what the prohibiting rationale was and why it can nevertheless be permitted, we would first of all gain information about this question, and along the way a deeper clarification of the halakhic aspect of the rabbi’s role (because if there is no halakhic aspect, how could a wise man claim that there is no permission for it?)

Surely it is obvious that the title “secular rabbi” is far more meaningless than a religious rabbi who is “great in Tanakh,” so it is quite called for to add to the definition of a rabbi, beyond halakhic expertise, also a connection to the roots and faith in the values derived from those roots. It does not seem logical to me to call Elisha ben Avuyah “rabbi,” despite the breadth of his knowledge in halakhic ruling. From this it follows that the use of “rabba” in the Reform world is also invalid and betrays the meaning of the word (assuming their worldview completely contradicts the previous generations).

She is an Israeli Reform rabbi, and she cannot ignore the Gemara and halakhah as easily as the Reform in America ignore them.

First, let me note the ad hominem. I don’t know whether you appointed Halivni to be your rabbi or not, but I am very much not in favor of making decisions and forming positions in that way. When he was a member of JTS, did you join them? Or do you obey him only in his conservative decisions?

As for the matter itself, I have indeed always been puzzled by Halivni’s step. Even mixed seating in the synagogue has no real halakhic basis (it is merely custom), but appointing women rabbis is quite possible. Here there isn’t even a custom, for until recently there simply were no women fit for it. And even if there were such a custom—in my opinion it should be abolished today.

The starting point is that whatever is not forbidden is permitted. That is, the burden of proof is on the one who forbids, not on the one who permits. Therefore you should look for arguments among those who prohibit, not with me.
Halakhically there could be two aspects here: 1. appointing women to positions of authority; 2. Torah study for women.
Aspect 1 is irrelevant today. Otherwise you should not appoint women to other roles in the community and in the state either. I assume Halivni does not support that (nor do I). See my article on the status of the convert, and you will see a possible halakhic interpretation there with regard to women too.
Aspect 2 is also irrelevant today (though it was less clear in the period when he withdrew from them). Women study, and there is fairly broad agreement about this (at least in non-Haredi circles). After all, even Maharat women study Torah, and the difference is mainly in the title. So if a woman reaches the appropriate knowledge and skill, why should she not serve as a rabbi? I see no impediment whatsoever.

The logic of the argument is a bit problematic, in my opinion. You decide what is obvious and then arrange the definitions accordingly. In other words, you are not adding anything to the definition of rabbi; you are assuming that definition from the outset.
As for your actual point, I of course agree. In my view too, it is obvious that a rabbi should be a halakhically observant and committed Jew, and not merely an expert.

According to your approach, is a secular person who is fluent in halakhic discourse and teaches it to the public a rabbi?

As I wrote just above your question—no. He is a teacher/lecturer in Talmud/halakhah.
If a community chose an atheist rabbi who had grown into halakhah, and he would instruct them according to the way of halakhah and educate people toward erudition and halakhic commitment (and afterward go back to eating shrimp), then perhaps there would be room to discuss it. He would be a heretical rabbi. A rabbi is primarily a role.

Thank you very much.

I agree with every word.

In my opinion, your claim that the concept of the “rabbi” has undergone a metamorphosis is connected to far broader religious concepts that have undergone a metamorphosis. The motivation to live a religious life has changed. You presented this nicely in column 36 in the name of the actor-rabbi Haggai Luber, that people observe commandments only if it “speaks to them.”
Regarding such people, the rabbi’s role, then, is to make the Torah “speak to us.”

Therefore, in my opinion, the change in the definition of the rabbi’s roles is a symptom of much larger changes (not necessarily the influence of the Hasidic rebbe, as you wrote).

Another example: I know closely some large Hasidic groups that have branches in different cities in Israel and around the world. The rebbe who sits in Bnei Brak or Jerusalem serves as the authority, and in every city he has his “captains of thousands and captains of hundreds.” These are ordained rabbis, who fulfill “original” and current rabbinic roles (such as making peace in the home).

On the one hand, in recent years there has been a trend to appoint specifically those with leadership skills, and not the outstanding Torah scholars from among the Hasidim. On the other hand, however gifted a person may be in leadership, without a comprehensive halakhic examination (beyond the level of “rabbanut certification”), he cannot receive the role—which teaches that the source of his authority is his “original” role, namely his being a Torah scholar.

Even among these rabbis, the change that has taken place in their role reflects a much broader change that Hasidic Haredi society is undergoing. Today, the existential Haredi anxiety is about “the street,” “the academy,” “the harms of technology,” and other such ills. The core of Haredi Judaism today is abstention from all the above harms, through belonging to a protective and guarding community.
Accordingly, the role of these rabbis (the leaders of the branches of the Hasidic groups) is to make sure that the solution works: that the kollel man belongs to the community, participates in prayers, is protected from the temptations of the street, etc.

This phenomenon supports what I wrote: the content poured into the concept of the rabbi is a derivative of the definition of “what is Judaism.” Is Judaism “spirituality”? Is Judaism withdrawal from the harms of technology? And so on.

A. I didn’t see a problem with responding to something secondary in the post; that is familiar conduct here (cf. the discussions in the previous post about what is deeper, Torah or physics).

B. It seemed to me a point of some importance because I suspected that I was not properly understanding the mode of decision-making described in those words if indeed a Reform female rabbi wrote them (for after all, she is not bound by halakhah, so surely she means something else).

C. As for the substance: on the question whether one should rule from the sources of halakhah according to our own understanding or rely on our predecessors, the Maharal and Rabbi Yosef ibn Migash disagreed. Rabbi Yosef ibn Migash writes that one must rely on the Geonim in interpreting the Talmud, whereas the Maharal opposed this approach and writes that everyone should study and rule according to his understanding of the sources of halakhah even if he may be mistaken (Rav Kook, in his letters, brings this dispute; I don’t remember the references now, I’ll try to check). Also Rabbi Akiva Eiger, in the introduction to his book, seems inclined to the Maharal’s view (his sons ask him whether to divide the book into rulings and writings, and he writes to them that the title “rulings” could mislead people into relying on it without studying the matters from their source).

D. I did not understand your position on all the above questions: do you hold that there is no halakhic validity to capital punishments, etc., when the necessary conditions are met?

Ah, it was obvious to me that we agree about the difference between the two cases (that can be inferred from the story about your initial response to the concept of a “secular rabbi,” a different response compared to the “believing” community rabbi), so it didn’t seem important to me to explain why I think the difference exists, but rather to touch on the points at which your definition cannot be complete, if one assumes there are differences between the two cases.

With God’s help, 26 Av 5778

The Torah sages and teachers who lead the members of their community according to the Torah are called in the language of the Torah “elders” and in the language of the Sages “colleague of the city.” And indeed, the source of the sage’s authority, by virtue of which the public and individuals accept him as their guide, derives from these two qualities.

On the one hand, he is an “elder,” possessing wisdom and life experience, both from his personal experience and from the wisdom of the generations, which he stores up and from which he draws and gives drink to his students and to those who seek his guidance; and on the other hand, he is a “colleague,” who cares about others and therefore listens with empathy to their distress and gives them his full attention.

And the two qualities go together. One who occupies himself with Torah for its own sake is called “a beloved friend,” who loves and gladdens the Omnipresent and people, and by his wisdom, sharpened through his learning—he often succeeds in finding the proper answer, and not infrequently he offers lines of thought that the questioner had not considered. (Rabbi Yitzhak Abarbanel, in his commentary Nahalat Avot, noted that the designation of a Torah scholar as “colleague” derives from his quality of being “a beloved friend.”)

An example of a rabbi who emphasized the combination of profound learning with acts of kindness is Rabbi Chaim of Brisk (whose yahrzeit fell last week, on 21 Av), who entrusted practical ruling for the public in everyday questions to the judge Rabbi Simcha Zelig Riger, while he concentrated on caring for every needy person, to the point that every young woman who became pregnant out of wedlock knew that she could place the baby at the entrance to the rabbi’s house, and he would see to finding a foster family to raise it. And the famous story is known that Rabbi Chaim delayed the prayer in all the synagogues on the night of Yom Kippur until the money had been collected to save a “Bundist,” though he was very far indeed from being among the “faithful of Israel.”

This is the image of a rabbi in Israel, and therefore it is no wonder that even secular people or Reform Jews are interested in the figure of a person with knowledge of the “Jewish bookshelf” who will enrich them with wisdom from Jewish sources, from which they hope to draw inspiration, even if they are not prepared to accept them as authoritative and binding sources.

Regards, Sh. Tz. Levinger

I think the rabbi is exaggerating a bit regarding the paralysis (he surely meant silence) that seized people (and I feel a bit personally accused :)). As for what the rabbi claimed, that people submit to the text as they understand the text, that seems to me well known and not terribly novel. As for the comparison of Torah study to sexual relations—this is not the rabbi’s invention, and there is quite a lot of it in Hazal and in Kabbalah. What the rabbi innovated was basically identifying this with the two-stage process in Torah study: the autonomous stage and afterward the stage of obligation. People are naturally mulling it over. But there is a bit of homiletics to it. In practice, it is not true that this applies only to Torah. Every process of investigating truth begins with an independent process of building abstract constructions, and afterward (after one of them is fitted in processes that are something like evolutionary) the truth is revealed and imposes itself upon you.

I don’t think this is a matter of excessive puritanism. It seems to me perhaps only a bit of the rabbi’s lack of self-confidence. People know the rabbi, and many readers here also come from a similar background, and they won’t be moved by this. True, for students and graduates of many yeshivot who do not come from that background, this will grate on them (and that’s fine; if the rabbi studied among Haredim, he can also contain those people), but the rabbi surely knows that and takes it into account when he writes this kind of response. It’s just that people do not always have something to comment on. They also read and internalize.

1. You defined the concept of a rabbi as a role bounded by very clear parameters: a scholar, expert in halakhic sugyot and Talmudic analysis.
But the female rabbi testified about herself: “I do not define myself as a halakhic person… I choose the path of study… of halakhic sources and O-T-H-E-R-S…”
That already casts doubt on whether the sources fit the ones you mentioned, doesn’t it?
2. Beyond a rabbi’s scholarly abilities, are a code of conduct, morality, and decency (which in my view ought to be inherent to the matter) just a bonus?

In the “Wikipedia” entry “Cherry,” it is explained that cherry trees are by nature tall and sturdy and can even reach a height of 18 meters, but in order to increase their fruit, growers take care that they not grow too tall.

By contrast, the palm tree gives its fruit without giving up its tall and upright stature. One who wishes to merit the fruit of the palm must climb upward and cannot lower the tree to himself.

So too there are spiritual leaders whose strength lies in reducing the message so that it will be accepted by the many, and there are spiritual leaders who are in the category of “the righteous flourishes like the palm,” preserving their upright stance and demanding of their community: “Go up higher, go up, son of man!”

Regards, Sh. Tz. Levinger

And regarding a “secular rabbi” and the like—from the article in Haaretz it appears that secular people too are uneasy with using the title “rabbi,” since it carries a connotation of religious commitment. One could call it something like “lecturer and guide in Jewish culture,” or in short: “MoLi” 🙂

Regards, Sh. Tz. Levinger

1. I didn’t understand the question. Do you mean to say that she does not meet my criteria for a rabbi? But that is exactly what I myself wrote.
2. Indeed these are important conditions, but not the essence of a rabbi. As I wrote here, to the best of my judgment, in principle there could be a rabbi who is a complete heretic. Obviously I do not recommend appointing a person who lacks integrity to serve as a rabbi, just as not as prime minister or police officer. Is a person lacking integrity who was appointed not prime minister?
But here we are already in the realm of semantics. My intention in the column was to make claims about essence, not definitions and semantics.

What’s wrong with M.R.? (without the h and the vav)

With God’s help, 27 Av 5778

The label “spiritual leader” was grandiose even in the past. All the more so in our generation, when everyone wants to be in the category of “and His kingship they willingly accepted upon themselves” and is not interested in being “led.” A rabbi’s authority was in the past too (and certainly today) first and foremost in his being a “teacher of righteousness,” whom the public and individuals see themselves as his students, and therefore they seek Torah and guidance from him. Therefore the labels “teacher,” “lecturer,” or “guide” appeal to me more. And in particular, there is the concern of “a man shall not wear” in calling a woman by the title “M.R.” 🙂

Regards, Sh. Tz. Levinger

By the way, among Ashkenazim in the past they would call only the city rabbi “rav.” One who was ordained to rule in matters of prohibition and permission was called “our teacher,” and Torah scholars who had not reached the level of practical ruling were adorned with the title “the colleague.”

Who is a physicist?

A physicist is a scholar proficient in the science of physics. This is a great field with many branches, and not many physicists are equally proficient in all of them. Usually physicists have some knowledge in every branch of physics and specialize in a minority of them. There are also physicists who serve in administrative positions such as heads of physics departments, directors of research institutes, laboratories, etc. In principle, there is no obstacle to appointing a self-taught physicist to such an administrative role as well, if he is suited to it. But it is difficult to ascertain this, and therefore it is customary to require candidates for such positions to present certification of an academic degree.

Who is a Ph.D. in physics? Someone who received certification for a doctoral degree in physics from an institution authorized to grant academic degrees by the Council for Higher Education by virtue of its authority under the law.

Who is a rabbi?

Linguistically, a “rav” is a Jewish religious scholar proficient in Torah, but the word “rav” has additional meanings such as professional (“his master was either a sage or a trapper,” Hullin 63b) and master (“his master gives him a Canaanite maidservant,” Kiddushin 14b).

But over the generations, the title “rav” became designated for the first meaning only—a Jewish religious scholar proficient in Torah. But Torah too includes many disciplines and branches, and not all rabbis are equally proficient in them. Usually all rabbis have some knowledge in all branches of Torah and specialization in a minority of them. There are also rabbis who serve in rabbinic roles (heads of yeshivot, community rabbis, judges, etc.). In principle, there is no obstacle to appointing a self-taught rabbi to a rabbinic role as well, if he is fit for it. But it is difficult to ascertain this, and therefore it is customary to require candidates to present rabbinic ordination.

Who is ordained as a rabbi?

Well, unlike academic titles, the law does not restrict the use of the title “rabbi,” and even an idol worshiper may add it to his name. But the world has become accustomed to reserving the title “rabbi” for a Jewish religious scholar proficient in Torah, as stated, and to calling the sages (or perhaps priests) of other religions by other names, such as priest, bishop, and the like for Christian clergy, and sheikh or qadi for Muslim clergy, etc. These religions behaved decently and did not call their clergy “rabbis.” By contrast, the Reform (corrupt) religion insists on calling its clergy “rabbis” in order to deceive and mislead people into thinking that Reform is a legitimate stream within Judaism. But it is not: Reform is a religion that has separated from Judaism. A Reform Jew born to a Jewish mother is an apostate, and if born to a non-Jewish mother he is a complete gentile even if he underwent “conversion” in a Reform “court” (and this is not the place to enter into the status of “a child captured among the Reform”).

Incidentally, Nahmanides relates in his disputation that the apostate who argued with him accused him of misleading people by calling himself rabbi, and Nahmanides agreed with him! Maimonides too, in one of his letters (I have forgotten the reference), complains about the inflation of titles for rabbis in his time. There is nothing new under the sun…

Mordechai, hello.
I went along with your comparison, on your own terms, until the tendentious deviation at the end. If a rabbi is a sage proficient in every part of Torah, and if ethics, Tanakh, and aggadah are also such parts, then on your terms there is no difference between a Reform rabbi and an Orthodox rabbi (= in my terminology: a spiritual leader). The only difference is that the former is not proficient in halakhah (but neither is an Orthodox spiritual leader). And if you say that he is also not committed to it—perhaps according to his own way (and as I wrote, I have my doubts about that). Incidentally, they have now sent a link here to an interesting article by Joshua Berman, who argues that biblical law should be understood as common law and not statutory law (in his terminology, which in my opinion is not precise). According to that interpretation, even halakhah can be seen in the Reform world.
https://rationalbelief.org.il/%D7%A4%D7%A8%D7%95%D7%A4-%D7%99%D7%94%D7%95%D7%A9%D7%A2-%D7%91%D7%A8%D7%9E%D7%9F-%D7%A1%D7%AA%D7%99%D7%A8%D7%95%D7%AA-%D7%91%D7%99%D7%A7%D7%95%D7%A8%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%9E%D7%A7%D7%A8%D7%90-%D7%9C/
So much for your own line of reasoning. But as for the argument itself, I do not agree with your assumption that all branches of Torah relate to one another the way thermodynamics relates to quantum mechanics or solid-state physics. In physics there is no hierarchy, and sectoral knowledge certainly leaves you a physicist. By contrast, my claim is that in the rabbinic-Torah world there is such a hierarchy. But even beyond hierarchy, I think there is hegemony (exclusivity): without halakhic-analytical skill, you are not a rabbi, whatever knowledge you may have in other areas. Additional knowledge is of course an added value, as is knowledge in psychology and mediation.
I explained all this in the column itself, and I am only repeating it.

Regarding the changes in the role of the rabbi, these matters are old. This is the language of Rabbi Aryeh Leib Yellin, in his introduction to the book Yefeh Einayim (Shabbat):

I will bless the Lord who has placed my lot among those who disseminate words of Torah to the public, and to be alert and responsive to students. And I will further thank God for His kindness and goodness toward me, for the rabbis who sit in judgment in our day are not like those of former days. The rabbis in ancient times were exalted above the people to dedicate their times to Torah and testimony, and all their thoughts were plunged into the depths of the sea of the Talmud, and they went straight on the paths of their thoughts, with no burden standing as an adversary in their way. Therefore their understanding had the power to innovate greatly and to reach the depth of the understanding of our Sages. Not so the rabbis of our time, upon whom the people load the burden of the troubles of city affairs. From morning till evening a multitude of many troubles crowd the entrance of their tents. And if in addition the rabbi has the burden of his own affairs, which pounds his skull—surely it is a wonder that the contemporary rabbi innovates anything at all. As the homilists said on the verse, “For He did not despise nor abhor the affliction of the afflicted, nor hide His face from him, and when he cried out to Him, He heard”: by analogy to a man whose arm was cut off, who brings a gift to the king—a clock made by the one hand remaining to him as an escape. The object itself is not elevated above other clocks coming from craftsmen’s workshops, but if its owner is maimed, it is wondrous that such a man trained his hand to make so splendid a vessel. So the prayer of the poor is wondrous among other prayers, even though his prayer too is mixed with foreign thoughts. But when one looks at his appearance—that such an afflicted and crushed man can formulate a prayer, however it may rise acceptably—that is “nor did He hide…” “He heard.” So one may say of Torah novelties from the rabbis of our time. And all who enter the gate of my city, seeing me write innovations while crowds of troubles from various matters surround me—they saw and were astonished that I listen to these matters to answer them properly, and I write down Torah novelties in ink. And thanks be to God, there is room in the head to place two matters of different kinds, as if a little upper chamber was made in the brain as a dwelling for thoughts of Torah, where the foot of trouble does not enter. It too is wondrous in my eyes.

Nice.

R’(hungry) Michael,
Your main claim:
Rabbi = a Torah scholar who sees halakhah as binding (to the exclusion of “Aher”) and who influences others in halakhah or even only in spiritual leadership (a Torah scholar who influences no one on any plane may perhaps be a hidden saint, but not a rabbi).
1. There is one point in favor of Orthodox “rabbis” over secular or Reform ones in that they see halakhah as binding, and part of the values they influence the public with is drawing them closer to halakhah and strengthening it (sometimes they distance instead of drawing near, but Torah scholars too can distance instead of bringing near), besides peace between one person and another and between husband and wife.
So there is something here from their original role.
2. The common denominator among all בעלי התפקיד—the rabbis and the “rabbis,” the male and female leaders—is that they possess authority, at very different levels, from rebbes with absolute authority to a nice and inclusive female rabbi of every creature. By the very act of appointing them, the appointing public grants them powers of decision (whatever they may be) that have significance for the life of every individual in the community; as a result, responsibility falls upon them for every action and every decision that concerns the public.
You write:
“If someone sees me as a rabbi, that is a great compliment for me, and I try and will try to be worthy of it (but I really do not commit myself to meeting the accepted standards, like speaking politely, pathetic speeches, lack of cynicism, no friendships with Reform women, wearing rabbinic garb, etc. It is not for nothing that I tend to decline offers for rabbinic positions).”
In that you decline offers for rabbinic roles, you are also declining authority of any kind, and thereby lowering public responsibility from yourself.
It seems to me that for this kind of Torah scholar the nice title R’ (hungry, in Yiddish) was coined, meaning: here is a Jewish Torah scholar from whom one can learn, but he will not issue rulings, he will not make public decisions, and he will not take responsibility. If you want—fine; if you don’t want—fine. He has no official appointment, he owes you nothing, and you are not bound to him.
In this you are a disciple of Moses our teacher, peace be upon him, who was R’ Moses until age 80 and became “our rabbi” against his will.
Apparently the Reform and the secular will not adopt for themselves the nice title R’, and in general, how do you say R’ in the feminine?
P.S. I have several friends who received official appointments in the rabbinate and judgeship and Maharat and the like; on the very day they received the appointment, one could say Kaddish for them. They did not advance by a hair’s breadth in their personal and scholarly level; they are enslaved to the image they were before receiving the appointment. They are forbidden to change, otherwise they are no longer the person who received the appointment. It is rather sad to see a 35-year-old avrech who has finished his spiritual development.

If so, I’m glad I merited the title R’hungry. I’ll just note that what bothers me is not the responsibility but the unjustified expectations people hang on a rabbi. What I say, I would say even as a rabbi, and I say it in order to have influence (though of course I am against accepting things merely because someone said them). My problem is not responsibility and authority, but the rabbinic garb, the manner of speaking, and everything you listed there.

A very vague column.

There is great ambiguity here whether we are talking about the definition of the concept of “rabbi” on the halakhic, historical, linguistic, legal plane, etc.
If this is on the halakhic plane, there is a major lack of sources (off the top of my head, it seems to me that in halakhah there are the concepts of sage or Torah scholar, to whom honor is due, etc.; one’s primary teacher; local halakhic authority; a court in every city; and the elders of the Sanhedrin of various types. There are also officers charged with enforcement (this week’s Torah portion), and one needs to clarify halakhically every single concept. Certainly a Reform female rabbi / heretic / one not observant of commandments fits none of their definitions; see Maimonides, Laws of Torah Study and Sanhedrin. Possibly I omitted some, but brevity does not allow; I only hope the point is clear: defining halakhic concepts must be done from the sources of halakhah and in a deep, not superficial, discussion.)
If, however, this is a historical/linguistic clarification of concepts, one should turn to historians and linguists.

With God’s help, 28 Av 5778

Rabbi Moshe Israel, one of the rabbis of Alexandria (in the years 1767–1801), addresses a reasoned question discussing the enactments of Toledo and Damascus regarding the inheritance of a deceased woman, sent by Mirkada bat Shem Tov Arukh. The questioner supports her interpretation of the enactments with many halakhic sources, and on their basis she demands to receive a share in her mother’s inheritance.

Rabbi Moshe Israel rejects her halakhic conclusion, but relates to her words with great respect, and he opens his responsum: “I have seen the question and what was decreed upon it by the honorable and modest woman, and they call her wise, Mrs. Mirkada daughter of the dear and honored R. Shem Tov Arukh, may his light shine, she opened her mouth with wisdom and stretched out her hand into the books of the early and later authorities, to argue on behalf of herself…” (The question and answer appear in the responsa Hayyim Shnayim by Rabbi Hayyim Shlomo Tarsa, sec. 17. The episode was mentioned in a responsum of the Rishon LeTzion Rabbi Yitzhak Nissim on women’s Torah study, published by Dr. Yael Levine, “Rabbi Yitzhak Nissim’s Responsum on Women and Talmud Torah,” Akdamot 13 [2003], pp. 33–56. On the questioner and respondent and the topic, see there, pp. 49–50 and notes 81–86.)

We thus learn that Rabbi Moshe Israel calls a learned woman by the title “wise” (parallel to the title “sage” customary among Sephardim).

Regards, Sh. Tz. Levinger, librarian, “Yad HaRav Nissim”

It is worth noting that the expression “and they call her wise” originally refers in the Mishnah to a midwife, and there is here an association to the idea that teachers are like midwives, assisting their listeners to generate insights of their own.

“And they call her wise” in the sense of “midwife”—in the Mishnah, tractate Shabbat, chapter 18, mishnah 3.

Regards, Sh. Tz. Levinger

Two comments:
A. It is new to me that a rabbi is supposed to study the sugya with the questioner. In the Torah and the Gemara there is no support for this. True, in the responsa literature they explained and elaborated, but that this is an obligation?
B. The change in the rabbi’s role, from decisor to leader-rabbi, may originate in Haredi society (beginning with the Hasidic and ending with the Lithuanian, which unconsciously adopted the style), but certainly the knitted-kippah world took full advantage of this refreshing change and ran with it, to the point that a rabbi is not even expected to display the appearance of a classic Torah scholar (Gemara and decisors).

R. Michael, hello,
I defined a rabbi as a Jewish religious scholar. A learned member of another religion can be wise and educated and even proficient in Shas and decisors like Eisenmenger, may his name be erased*, but he cannot be a rabbi, just as a Jew proficient in Christianity or Islam cannot be either a priest or a sheikh. The same applies to a Reform Jew: since in my view he belongs to another religion, he cannot be a rabbi even if he is proficient in Torah. (Incidentally, from my occasional encounters with a few of them in the U.S., my impression was that most of them are complete ignoramuses.) Certainly one who is not committed to halakhah may be called a sage (if he is proficient in Torah), but certainly not a rabbi (and examples are not lacking, from Elisha ben Avuyah and Jesus the Christian down to our own day).
The article you attached is interesting, but I did not understand what it has to do with the discussion. I am not a jurist, but to the best of my knowledge common law is not a breached city without a wall, where every judge does as he pleases. It may be more “flexible” than statutory law (though even of that I am not sure), but certainly it has clear, accepted, and binding boundaries, for otherwise there is no law and no justice at all. The Reform are not included in the Jewish religion even if you define halakhah as a kind of “common law,” since they believe in none of the principles of Jewish faith (not according to Maimonides, not according to Rabbi Hasdai Crescas, and not according to Rabbi Yosef Albo), and they do not see themselves as bound by halakhah at all. For them, Torah and halakhah are ancient and respected mythologies (perhaps), but certainly not binding law, not even in the sense of common law. Therefore Reform is not a stream in Judaism, but a religion that has separated from it. A Reform religious scholar cannot be called a rabbi except by falsehood and deceit.
Perhaps I erred in choosing physics for the comparison (since that field is close to you). If you claim that in physics there is no hierarchy, I will not argue (for I am not a physicist). In my field, economics, there is. But I was not referring to hierarchy at all. Each profession and its requirements. My only claim was that a rabbi is a Jewish religious scholar who has minimal knowledge in all Torah and specific knowledge in the branches in which he specialized, without entering into a threshold definition of the minimal knowledge. It seems to me that altogether we have found (at last) something on which we can agree. One need not seek disagreements and quarrels at any price…

And on another matter—I have no intention whatsoever of pressing you to accept a rabbinic role. That is your concern and the concern of the community that would accept you. What amazes me is the rationale. As I recall, the rules of conduct and ethics that Maimonides sets for a Torah scholar (Laws of Character Traits, ch. 5) are not contingent on holding a rabbinic office.

_____________________________
*Johann Andreas Eisenmenger (1654–1704)—a German who studied for 19 years in yeshivot in Holland under the pretense that he sought to convert, and composed Judaism Unmasked (Entdecktes Judenthum), one of the vilest anti-Jewish libels ever written, quoted in almost every issue of the Nazi Stürmer. (Today only a few copies remain in the whole world; one of them is with my mother, may she live, a remnant from the vast library of my grandfather, of blessed memory, which was burned by the Hungarian fascists, may their name be erased.)

So what if the Reform do not accept the principles of faith of Maimonides, R. Hasdai Crescas, and R. Yosef Albo? When R. Yosef Albo presented “his” principles, at that time there were only the principles of Maimonides and R. Hasdai Crescas. So was he a member of another religion according to your approach?

That bothered me too. He begins with a kind of historical survey of the evolution of the concept “rabbi” in popular usage, and tries to correct and define the halakhic concept of rabbi without relying on any halakhic source.

He did not speak about the halakhic concept of “rabbi,” because there is no such thing. There is the concept of honoring one’s teacher in the sense of a particular person’s teacher, and there is the concept of a Torah scholar. The concept “rabbi” is not halakhic.

Indeed נכון, I assumed that the concept of “rabbi” here refers to the halakhic sage/Torah scholar, and if this is not about the halakhic concept, what place is there to discuss its boundaries? Everyone can define it however he pleases: decisor/leader/mediator/or sophist/secular/Reform/or cat.

Could it be that Michael Abraham is taking off his rabbinic cloak and responding under nicks like D or B??

Forget definitions and labels—I wonder what value charisma and spiritual sensitivity have in your eyes. Can a person endowed with them bring people closer to God, even if he is not a genius and expert in Gemara, Rishonim, and Aharonim, or are those an exclusive condition? Is what the Baal Shem Tov and his disciples did legitimate in your eyes? Do you accept the necessity of the phenomenon of Hasidism against the social and historical background in which it arose? What will you say about the brilliant homilies of the Sefat Emet? And of the Ruzhiner? (My family on both sides are Hasidim.) And of R. Tzadok HaKohen of Lublin and his master, the Izhbitzer? Is Rav Kook’s power measured by his scholarly conceptualizations or by the way he looked at his own spiritual world and that of others, while using his knowledge of Hasidic teaching and Kabbalah?
This is a response to your post published today. I am really trying to understand your position beyond the logical arguments that a triangle is not a circle, and I feel that in this logical fixation there is an evasion.
Bottom line—the question is whether a “rabbi,” in the sense loaded with today’s leadership, religious, and learned meaning, is a professional in Gemara, with a “Torah mind”—or can be something else. Beyond that—the question is whether the world is broader than a page of Gemara with Rishonim and Aharonim, and whether a rabbi must understand that breadth. After all, you would call any Haredi yeshiva head a rabbi, even though he lacks essential layers in understanding the world and therefore—God. So what is this thing, and what is its source? In short, I am perplexed.

I haven’t read the posts on Hasidism. I haven’t yet had time to look for them.

Hello Ḥ.,
I don’t quite understand your claim. I recognized the importance of a spiritual leader, but I distinguished him from a rabbi in the accepted sense. Spiritual leaders exist and are needed in every community and every society (though not for me). In my opinion there is not much difference between a spiritual leader of a modern Orthodox community and a modern Christian or secular leader. The rebbes filled such a function, and if someone wants that—good health to him. But what does that have to do with a rabbi?
The foundation of the matter, of course, is not only semantics. In my view, a Torah mentality exists only in halakhah, and nowhere else. Everything else—Hasidism, Jewish thought, Tanakh, and the like—in my opinion is not Torah (well, I’ve also written a lot about that; and you’ll encounter it further in the second and third books), but at most wisdom (or charlatanism). These are areas that may be important (in my opinion, not so much), but what do they have to do with Torah? It is a collection of human-spiritual intuitions with no connection to Torah. They use verses however they please to say things (usually banal, in my opinion), but they do not study the verses. All these people could speak before any audience at the Church of All Religions in Düsseldorf (by the way, this is not a criticism but a description).
I would indeed call any Haredi yeshiva head a rabbi, although I would have criticism of him on the plane of understanding the world and breadth of mind (and about that too you will write and read more). That is a flawed rabbi whom I would not let make halakhic or other decisions. By contrast, a communal-spiritual leader is not a rabbi at all. This is a universal figure with no essential connection to Judaism (except on external planes, like jargon and sources of inspiration). Something like what people say: a religious Jew who murders is a religious person who has gone astray, but a religious person who eats non-kosher food is not religious. And in my opinion that is entirely correct (I think I explained this in the evening I hosted on conversion).

You made a severe reduction—one might say even a caricature—of the rebbe of the wagon-drivers, his swayings and wonders.
A rabbi (!) who teaches Hasidism in our generation turns to people for whom what the scholarly yeshiva-head has to offer is not enough. He is not merely an anemic “spiritual leader” but brings the power and force of Torah. You ignored what I said about the Sefat Emet, Rav Kook, etc. You will not persuade me that Rav Kook’s power lies primarily in his Gemara and halakhah learning.

I once was in the office of a Reform rabbi. A nice man, but an ignoramus. Hanging framed above his desk was a yoreh yoreh, yadin yadin certificate.
What were you examined on? I asked him in astonishment.
His answer included Pirkei Avot, maybe a few other things. I don’t remember because I was trying to remain polite. But that’s what a Reform rabbi looks like. A rabbi in the sense of a certified teacher of Judaism and (part of) its branches.

I am entirely with you regarding Reform rabbis.
Regarding Hasidism, I have severe criticism, which I detailed in the posts that deal with it.
And I did not say that Rav Kook’s power lay in his scholarly learning. I said that his rabbinate lay in his scholarly learning. There is no connection to anemic-ness. I did not say that a spiritual leader is necessarily anemic. What I said is that in my eyes this is not Torah but something universal. Is a secular communal leader necessarily anemic? I don’t think so. He can be exactly as charismatic as Rav Kook. But he will not be as learned as he was.

I’ll look for them and read.
But there’s something here you keep evading. Rav Kook is what he is not because of Mishpat Kohen. It won’t help.

Ḥ., I keep writing the same thing and you keep repeating the same point. I did not say that Rav Kook is what he is because of Mishpat Kohen. Where did I say that? What I said is that his charisma is not the rabbinic side but the leadership-spiritual side in him. In other words: he is a rabbi by virtue of Mishpat Kohen, and a spiritual leader by virtue of everything else. I am only repeating what I already wrote. Now I will add one more thing: without his rabbinic side, he also could not have been a thinker of significance on the spiritual-leadership side. His “Torah mind” came from there. That is already connected to what I wrote here.
Incidentally, Rav Shagar too, despite all my opposition to his conceptions (really, I usually agree with them; it is only the philosophical anchor that I oppose, or rather I claim does not exist), attained his status because of his scholarly learning. Without that, his philosophy would have been merely something universal.

Good morning.
Last night I read the post on Hasidism that you wrote בעקבות the lesson by Merav Tubul-Kahana, and (most of) the long thread of comments beneath it. Things I was trying to say were said there in one way and another, so I’ll step aside from the argument and try to clarify my reservation in a few short points.
A. I am not knowledgeable in Hasidism at all, but throughout my life I have happened to study Hasidic texts that taught me new things about the world and about Torah (study!), and did not serve as a pill for psychological motivation or a phone directory alone.
B. As for the title “rabbi,” it may be that the dispute is after all only semantic, since I do not dispute that there are people who call themselves rabbis and are ignorant in Torah. I believe that one who studies Torah seriously and over time acquires a “Torah mind,” and it influences all his ways, his mode of thought, his study, and his conduct in life. The presence of such a person in a community, as you wrote, has influence, etc. etc.
I only wonder: I, as a woman who studies and teaches, am I considered to be teaching Torah even though I did not warm the benches of the study hall for years like that desirable “rabbi”? It seems to me that you claimed not. Fine. Can real Torah study “slip out” of me by accident? Just like that, by accident, when I happen to arrive at the truth of Torah, or heaven forbid at the truth of some aggadah and the way it integrates with the halakhic part of the sugya? Just asking. And perhaps this leads to another question related to those relatively ignorant rabbis: can one acquire “Torah mind” partially? You live in a certain atmosphere, absorb, learn—not the whole thing, but parts of it. Can that work? He is not completely a rabbi, only somewhat a rabbi. A blossom—rabbis not yet ripened. The power of his “Torah” will not be like that of one who killed himself in the tent of Torah, but there will be a scent of Torah there. Is there such a reality? Is there partiality in this thing called “Torah mind”? I myself am not sure there is.
There may be other points as well, but I have no time right now to elaborate on them. Presumably I need to read your posts on what is Torah and what is not Torah, and then I will understand why you push aside Tanakh and aggadah, and only halakhah and Gemara are relevant.
Have a good day.

Hello Ḥ.,
A. I’d be glad for an example of such a text and such an innovation. Usually when examples are brought (as I tried to elicit from people there), I can show you that you learned nothing from it. Either it is something you already identified with beforehand, or you will not accept it now either. The reason is that these are quips, not proofs; and therefore if I do not agree with the thing itself, why should I agree because the Sefat Emet writes it? In my opinion this also characterizes the study of Tanakh and aggadah (and see there the examples people tried unsuccessfully to bring me).
B. The question is: what is Torah? That is, does the study of ethics, thought, or halakhah also produce a Torah mind? In my opinion, no. And again, the reason is that in these fields the learner studies himself and nothing else. As I wrote above, if the conclusion seemed right to him, he will continue to accept it as before, but if not—he will not accept it even after the study, because these are not proofs but quips. Therefore one cannot acquire a different mind than the one I already have a priori from such study. The only Torah that changes a person is halakhah and Talmudic analysis.
Please do not drag me into absurdities. I did not say that real Torah study cannot slip out. It can happen to anyone, including a Christian priest or a Zen sage. Slips are not our issue here. The question is what can shape a unique Torah way of thinking and fundamentally change my ways of thought.

Indeed it is a vague column, because the concept too is vague. I am speaking about a concept from sociology and meta-halakhah, not from halakhah. Therefore there is no point in bringing sources here (this is a first-order discussion). I also clarified that I have no interest in semantics. I came to make claims, not to clarify concepts.

A. This is not a halakhic obligation but a proper way for a rabbi to conduct himself. Or perhaps a meta-halakhic obligation (the duty of autonomy). I referred to articles in which I touched on this point; take it from there.
B. That is too sweeping a generalization. Most knitted-kippah rabbis still fall into the accepted category of rabbi.

It seems to me we are repeating ourselves. But the rules of conduct Maimonides sets are guidelines and not laws, and as such they must be examined in context. This is as opposed to public expectations, which do not allow you to act as you wish or think proper.

And what about examining the sugya of pok ḥazi mai ama davar?

The sugya of mai ama davar is problematic, because the question is when one relates to what the people do. While what the people do is in the making, everyone tries to influence it and writes his opinion. Perhaps only from a long-term perspective can one speak of mai ama davar. Right now it is in formation.
Beyond that, the rule pok ḥazi mai ama davar was said for one who is in doubt (if the halakhah is shaky in your hand, go after the custom). But if one is not in doubt and has a clear position—why should he look for mai ama davar? In my opinion, what the people do is nonsense.

I still do not understand how a rabbi in Orthodox Judaism, which preaches female modesty, and especially the modesty of a married woman who is obligated to conceal her feminine side from men lest she arouse sexual thoughts in a strange man, conducts such a blunt conversation about topics that Hazal probably discussed in the study hall and not with a female colleague.
Are religious women obligated to conceal themselves, while religious rabbis are permitted to conduct conversations on thought-arousing topics with women who have not taken upon themselves the yoke of modesty?
Could such a conversation have taken place with a woman who sees herself as obligated by the laws of modesty? Wouldn’t this intimate discourse have been a transgression of the laws of modesty?

If you didn’t understand, that’s what I’m here for.

1. The laws of modesty are not intended to prevent men’s thoughts. That is a matter of the prohibition of “placing a stumbling block before the blind,” not laws of modesty. The practical implication is that when a woman walks in a reasonable way and a strange man is aroused to thoughts, that is his problem. Let him guard himself. The same applies if someone conducts a reasonable conversation with a woman and even publishes it for all who want it, and various thoughts are aroused in others. Let them guard themselves. That is their problem.
See here: https://www.bmj.org.il/userfiles/akdamot/29/_1.pdf
2. In my eyes this discourse is not blunt at all, but entirely platonic. It requires sexual terminology because that is the appropriate metaphor, just as Hazal and Scripture use it. People who are truly modest, not hysterical ones (apparently because of a deep lack of modesty within them), are not disturbed by such discourse so long as it is matter-of-fact. It is all in people’s “blue minds.” By the way, when you see me dancing with a woman on my shoulders the way Amoraim did, then perhaps we can talk about my deviating from the ways of Hazal. I will add that I also have no problem deviating from their ways, so long as it is not established law and so long as my circumstances differ from those that prevailed in their day.
3. Hazal did not conduct such discourse with women, simply because women were not in the study hall. Today women are there (to my delight), and therefore in my opinion it is not right to censor Torah discourse and avoid such platonic discussion merely because of such concerns. Even if there really were a problem here, I would say of that: there is no other way. This is how one studies Torah.
4. Such a conversation certainly could have taken place with a woman who is careful about modesty. In fact, here it indeed took place (Tamar is a very modest woman). Of course, if you define observance of modesty laws in a way that includes avoiding such conversations, then you are certainly right that such a conversation could not have taken place with a woman who is careful about modesty. I do not argue with definitions.

In general, there is something strange here. I, the “immodest” one, see in this discourse something entirely natural and platonic. Whereas all the “modest” people who preach to me here in hysteria see in it something sexual and arousing. Surely that is telling, no? Perhaps it calls for examining your approach to modesty.
Once a man came to the Kotzker and asked him why he did not merit honor despite fleeing from it (as Hazal said: one who flees from honor, honor pursues him). The Kotzker answered him: that is because you keep looking back. Sometimes running away from something indicates that you are afflicted with it. A hysterical and zealous war against something indicates that there is something flawed in you regarding that subject. One who is indifferent to honor is the one who truly flees it. And one who naturally conducts matter-of-fact, platonic discourse of this kind and does not see sexual demons everywhere is the truly modest one. Note this well.

Since you already wrote, I’ll tell you that my wife came across the previous column printed out on the table, and almost threw me out of the house… I’m trying to understand how the “placing a stumbling block” applies here to the woman.
What you wrote at the end is not strange at all, quite apart from your particular case, Heaven forbid. The modest person is more sensitive and is aroused sexually by every small breach. The immodest person “manages” to reach the stage where such a “low” level of immodesty is something entirely natural and platonic. [And of course there is a higher stage of kaki ḥivrei, and who can say that of himself?!].

Then she should also be given the clarifications and the discussion to read.
And what you wrote at the end proves my point. Doesn’t that require an examination of the approach to modesty? In my opinion, yes. If in practice it doesn’t arouse me, then there is no problem of modesty. If so, the open approach succeeds better.

There is the well-known parable about the blind man who can look at the sun, or the mechanic who isn’t alarmed by oil stains. It is trite, but sometimes one cannot avoid using it. In any case, I regret writing such a thing about an important Torah scholar and rabbi (with all the characteristics), but I am speaking only to the argument itself.
By the way, I agree that there is a problem in the approach to modesty, and that Haredi society, on an ascending scale toward extremists like Gur or Mea Shearim, raises the bar in a way that is not according to Torah understanding and common sense. But not every criticism about modesty can be pinned on the extreme end of the continuum, especially not when you hear it from quite a few admirers and writers here.

I understand the claim and do not agree with it. The fact that many feel this way indicates to me a problem in the conception of modesty. I also do not think this is about actual arousal of forbidden thoughts, but rather an instinctive reaction to this kind of discussion and speech, which seems immodest. And to that I say that the situation requires change, in my opinion. When women enter the study hall, that requires greater openness and willingness to speak. Of course, if a person feels that forbidden thoughts are aroused in him, let him be careful (within the limits of there being no other way). But the instinctive revolt (which, in my impression, is the main thing here) is not correct in my eyes.
For example, I assume that when your wife saw the material on the table, forbidden thoughts were not aroused in her. Rather, it just seemed to her not quite proper. So I say this is a question of normative boundaries, not of halakhah or prohibitions. And if that is what we are discussing, it is worth examining whether the boundaries are placed in the right spot.

Besides, I truly and sincerely hope there are no admirers here—of me or of anyone else. I am against admiration. And if there are, and they are among those criticizing me—that is a good sign.

With God’s help, 28 Av 5778

To R. M. A.—greetings,

Without referring specifically to the expressions criticized here—

On the face of it, it seems that when women enter Torah discourse, one should be more careful about expressions that may be interpreted as having a sexual character. Given today’s sensitivity regarding harassment and the like—it is worthwhile to be among the cautious and not, Heaven forbid, come under suspicion of non-platonic hints; and one who has already been singed by suspicion of heresy should be careful not to come under suspicion of sexuality 🙂

Moreover, when the listener is not on the same level of command of the sources as the speaker, things may be understood by the less knowledgeable listener in a way completely different from the speaker’s intention. As happened about a year ago when one person said to his brother: “In this matter I am your disputant,” and a stranger who overheard them understood him to mean: “I’m in your platoon,” that is: “I’m with you,” the exact opposite of the speaker’s intention.

And it seems to me I already suggested to you in the past (in connection with a different problem) that you let one of the women in your family read the posts before they are published publicly, in order to get “feedback” on how the words sound in the ears of someone less immersed in scholarly or philosophical style. Even the Torah took care to speak in the “language of human beings” :)..

Regards, Sh. Tz. Levinger

Rabbi Michael writes: “And yet when someone puts these things on the table honestly, he is accused of not being faithful to halakhah.”
To my taste, that is a strange statement. Maneuvering and concealment from the broader public are an integral part of halakhah. To put things on the table honestly is indeed a lack of faithfulness to halakhah. It may be that to a modern person this does not seem proper conduct, but it seems to me that an honest look at the world of halakhah shows that its concepts of proper conduct are indeed different from ours.

You are probably new to the site. I have already written here more than once that this is indeed the way of halakhah, and I have severe criticism of it (at least of its implementation in our time). Halakhah is not what literally emerges from the sources of halakhah, but the correct way to apply them for our day.