Another Look at Greatness in Torah and the Attitude to Halakhah (Column 684)
In column 682 I discussed the essence of greatness in Torah. I noted there that beyond knowledge and skill and beyond analytical abilities, what are also required are common sense and familiarity with the world and its other fields of knowledge. A few days ago someone posted to a WhatsApp group a ruling by the late Rabbi Elyashiv that had been published in Yated Ne’eman. Beyond the content of the ruling, the very fact that this ruling is circulated and even viewed as an indicator of greatness in Torah and as a model for a proper way of life for the public is itself quite telling. It reflects the fact that not only are large parts of the Haredi Torah and rabbinic leadership detached from the world and therefore distort halakhah, but that with the generous help of the apparatchiks at Yated Ne’eman they are creating an entire public that grows up on these distortions, in their image and likeness. Precisely as someone who identifies with the picture and model described here and certainly does not reject them out of hand, it is important to me to sharpen and clarify the problems they contain.
The ruling
I will quote here the words as they appeared there:[1]
Rabbi Elyashiv was asked:
A young kollel scholar who devoted his entire day to Torah study in kollel and therefore was necessarily absent from home, and he also wants to study in the evening—what about helping at home? How far does his obligation extend?
Answer:
The husband’s commitments to his wife in the ketubah do not include help at home. There is an obligation to provide livelihood, but not an obligation to assist with household chores. However, there is here a matter of kindness—of bestowing kindness upon one’s wife—but this is not a “binding obligation” among the ketubah obligations.
But it is possible that there is an obligation here from another angle, derived from the Ritva’s words in a different sugya: If a man wishes to marry a second wife in addition to his current wife, the Ritva rules that he must stipulate this as a condition at the time of marriage. And why is a stipulation necessary? For essentially—before the ban of Rabbeinu Gershom—there is no prohibition against marrying a second wife! Why, then, is a stipulation necessary? The Ritva explains: since it is customary that a man does not take a second wife in addition to his first, this is tantamount to an implicit undertaking not to take another wife. If he wishes to deviate from this, he must stipulate it at the time of marriage. It may be that the same applies to a husband’s obligation to provide help at home. One must ascertain what the accepted reality is. If it is customary that in a defined and known situation, or at certain times of the year, the husband helps, if that is the reality, the woman can claim that she married him on that understanding—and this requires deliberation.
And another question:
When the husband sits and studies all day and even in the evening hours he toils in Torah, can the wife claim that she finds it difficult to cope with the loneliness?
Answer:
Loneliness in and of itself is not a claim—unless we judge according to the Ritva’s principle: if it is customary that the husband also attends to his wife’s loneliness, then this would be considered his obligation. And only a stipulation at the time of marriage—that he will not cease from his study—would be effective.
You will not be surprised to hear that people in that group objected to these words. They did not even bother to explain what the problem was, since it seemed self-evident to them. There is a sense that these statements are squarely opposed to common sense, and that it is inconceivable that a halakhic authority would rule this way in practice.
I must say that sometimes such outcries contain a measure of the am ha’aretz’s hatred for the talmid chacham, and in order to clarify matters we must examine them on the merits, in both directions—neither out of hatred nor out of the kind of love (for Torah and its greats) that distorts judgment. On the substantive plane I have very many comments about these rulings, and I will present them one by one.
Is this halakhah?
One can debate whether this is even a halakhic question. On the face of it, very much so. The question addresses mutual obligations between spouses (in effect, the husband’s obligations to his wife), and these obligations are anchored in the ketubah and in the laws of the Torah (food, clothing, and conjugal duty). Therefore, it makes sense to turn to a halakhic authority and clarify whether such an obligation exists. This is a fully legitimate halakhic question. Moreover, sometimes halakhic clarification does not dictate how one should actually behave. Beyond halakhah there is common sense, there is morality, and there are understandings between human beings. This is especially true according to my view, which separates halakhah and morality; but it seems to me that even if one does not accept my picture of halakhah and morality, in practice this is how halakhic decisors who are rooted among their people conduct themselves. The fact that there is no halakhic obligation to ease one’s wife’s loneliness or to help her with housework does not mean that one should not do so. The absence of an obligation is not a counter-obligation. And even if this involves bitul Torah (time away from study), the halakhic authorities have already written (see my article here, part II) that the mitzvah of Torah study pertains to times free from other necessary engagements; and the question is what counts as those necessary engagements (livelihood, helping at home, easing one’s wife’s loneliness, spending time with the family, rest, and the like).
However, if this is merely a technical halakhic clarification, when the halakhic authority is asked such a question he should clarify that he is analyzing the issue through a halakhic prism and is not issuing a practical ruling. No hint of such a caveat appears here. In such a case I would expect an addendum after the analysis, stating that up to this point was the halakhic clarification, but in practice it is certainly proper to act thus and so. All the more so when addressing a public for whom halakhah is everything and when a “halakhic ruling” is understood as practical instruction.
Two rabbinic types
Within his words, Rabbi Elyashiv discusses what is customary in the world. Is it customary for a man to help his wife or to ease her loneliness or not? I get the sense that he truly did not know and was unfamiliar with the situation. Rabbi Elyashiv himself was secluded in his room, studying Torah day and night, and it is doubtful to what extent he was familiar with the norms among ordinary people. In many cases the impression was that he did not know them. Incidentally, if the factual situation was truly unclear to him, I would expect that he would instruct people to make a stipulation in the kiddushin or in the ketubah, to the effect that the husband will ease his wife’s loneliness or help with housework—or a stipulation that establishes that the spouses agree there are no such obligations.
In column 139, written as an obituary for Rabbi Elyashiv Knohl (rabbi of Kfar Etzion), I drew a comparison between two types of halakhic decisors, represented (in my presentation) by Rabbi Elyashiv Knohl and Rabbi Yosef Shalom Elyashiv (and later by the Rogatchover and the Or Sameach, the two rabbis of Dvinsk—Danzig). There I pointed out the advantages of each of these types as a model for serving God, and I compared them with respect to learning and to halakhic decision-making. I said that the secluded figure, like Rabbi Y.S. Elyashiv, is a paragon of devotion to Torah and of immense Torah knowledge, and it is very important to have such paragons by whose light the public can be educated (to provide an aspiration). But at the same time I argued that this is not the only way to grow in Torah and that such a figure cannot issue practical halakhic rulings and certainly cannot lead a community (see also column 682).
The Gauguin dilemma
In that column I described what is known as the “Gauguin dilemma.” Gauguin was a brilliant painter who neglected his family, claiming that he must devote his life to art, otherwise the world would be lacking. I explained there that in my view there is certainly room for such a claim, but it must be done with the consent of his spouse. If she truly agrees, that is very worthy of great esteem. She is sacrificing herself for the advancement of art in the world. Such an agreement should not be made—even with consent—unless the person is an exceptional genius. But if he indeed possesses special abilities (persistence and intellectual talent), it is indeed proper to make such an agreement. Such a genius seeks a partner who will help him grow and develop the art—for his sake, for hers, and for the world’s—and if there is a woman who is willing to do this, may she be blessed.
The same applies to someone who devotes himself to growth in Torah. Here too there is room for it, if two conditions are met: the person has exceptional abilities, and his spouse agrees—either initially or retroactively—to such a way of life. In such a case there is nothing wrong with it. On the contrary, both are worthy of great esteem. Moreover, even if the couple has reached an agreement and the husband is indeed deserving, if he sees that in practice his wife cannot cope, he must back away from the stipulated condition and behave as a mensch. And not because there is a mitzvah of kindness or an implied condition, but because one must be a mensch and have common sense. This is your life partner, as your own self. Your commitment toward her is not exhausted by the contract you signed and its legal hairsplitting.
There is something to the protests I heard against this ruling. It smacks of a shocking halakhic detachment, very far from common sense. A layman looking at this ruling immediately sees that it does not hold water. And this is not because “the layman’s view is the opposite of the Torah’s view,” but on the contrary: because “the Torah’s view” (in its distorted sense) is in many cases far from common sense (see more on this below).
The ideal model: how should one relate to such a figure?
Therefore I do not accept the automatic outcry against such an instruction. Derekh eretz may precede Torah, but nonetheless Torah is also important, not only derekh eretz. There is room for sacrifice for the sake of Torah. Yet despite this, note that Rabbi Elyashiv gave this instruction to a kollel fellow who was apparently anonymous, and it was also published in a newspaper as a paragon to which every kollel fellow should aspire. It appears he also did not check whether such an agreement existed between them, and he did not check the state of the questioner’s wife and the extent of her distress.
Therefore, even if I am mistaken and Rabbi Elyashiv was addressing a particular fellow whom he knew (this does not seem to be the case from the answer, as there is no clarity that the wife agreed, nor are there conditions mentioned regarding the abilities of the questioner), still, the publication of the answer and the regard for it as an ideal path for the many point to a very deep distortion in Haredi-kollel thinking.
Looking at the world of Torah as a whole, in my opinion it is indeed important and proper that there be such couples, where one of them (it could also be the wife) devotes all their days to Torah while the other bears the burden of the home. Such devotion produces paragons and Torah knowledge for which there is no substitute and which is very necessary (even if the weight of knowledge declines in an age of databases). Devotion to Torah and developing scholarship are values that the entire public ought to be educated toward. But this is a path for the few, and it should remain so. It is not right to present such a model to the many.
Our forefather Abraham was the pillar of kindness. This is the figure by which we are educated. Is it proper that each of us, when three Arabs come to visit him, slaughter three calves in order to serve them tongue in mustard? Absolutely not. That is neither reasonable nor right to do. It may be that Abraham himself did not actually do so and that we are dealing with an educational myth (Maimonides interpreted it as a dream). Sometimes education requires unrealistic models that are not practiced in proper proportion—an ideal utopia. But it is important to understand that these are not figures to be imitated, but only ones that chart a general value-laden direction, no more.
I am sure that even within Haredi thought there will be those who accept my words, arguing that many will attempt this and not succeed (in Berakhot 35b this expression appears in precisely such a context). They too understand that this is a path for the few. But my claim here is much more radical: ab initio it is not right to act this way. The Torah’s true scale of values is the opposite. This is not the way of Torah, and one must not live like this. It is not prohibited because we will not succeed; rather, we will not succeed because this is not the right path. Granted, because of the needs of the public there is room for a few Ben-Azzai-types or Rashbi-types who will nonetheless live this way, but this is a dispensation after the fact, a case of “It is a time to act for the Lord; they have voided Your Torah.” It is a distorted path, but public needs can lead to permitting living this way.
The Torah was not given to monks, nor was it given to ministering angels. Nor is there any interest that human beings become ministering angels. True, society will benefit from the presence of a few such “angels” in its midst; therefore, there is room to permit—after the fact—someone whose heart compels him and who has found a spouse willing to bear the burden, to live and act thus.
I think that such an approach is more balanced and reasonable. It greatly honors devotion to Torah and the partnership of the two spouses on this difficult path, but it puts it in the right proportion. This has implications for the life of the average person. The Haredi way presents such a model as an ideal before every kollel fellow, even if it concedes that some cannot fully adhere to it. But that is a distortion. It is not the right way. The world was created so that we should live within it, not to be ascetics of learning. That is the ideal, le-khatchilah path. Being a kollel fellow is a special dispensation for the few.
A new light on Maimonides’ words
Famous are Maimonides’ words in Hilkhot Talmud Torah 3:10 (and in more detail in his Peirush haMishnah to Avot, chap. 4):
“Anyone who sets his heart to engage in Torah and not work, and to be supported by charity, profanes the Name, disgraces the Torah, extinguishes the light of religion, brings evil upon himself, and forfeits his share in the World to Come; for it is forbidden to derive benefit from words of Torah in this world. The Sages said: ‘Whoever benefits from words of Torah forfeits his life from the world.’ They further commanded: ‘Do not make them a crown to magnify yourself with, nor a spade to dig with.’ And they further commanded: ‘Love work and hate authority.’ Any Torah that is not accompanied by work will in the end cease and lead to sin, and the end of such a person will be that he will rob people.”
On the surface he is speaking of concerns: if a person only studies and does not earn a livelihood except from his learning, he is liable to end up robbing others. But I do not understand this as a technical, consequentialist claim. It is not because of the problem that he will end up robbing people; rather, because it is not proper to live this way. Such a path reflects a mistaken conception of Torah itself. A person must live in the world, learn, and apply the Torah within it, and not view the world as some obstacle, a stormy sea whose whole purpose is to test the ascetics within it as to whether they will persist in their asceticism. Asceticism is the after-the-fact state—not the world.
The Kesef Mishneh on the spot takes pains to reject Maimonides’ proofs in his Peirush haMishnah, and at the end he writes:
“After God has informed us of all this, one can say that our master’s intent here is that a person should not throw off the yoke of labor in order to be supported by others so as to study; rather, he should learn a trade that supports him, and if it suffices him—so much the better; and if it does not suffice, he may take his subsistence from the community, and there is no problem with that. And this is what he wrote: ‘Anyone who sets his heart,’ etc. And he brought several mishnayot indicating that one ought to learn a trade. And even if we say that this is not our master’s view, as would appear from his words in his commentary to the Mishnah, we hold that wherever the halakhah is uncertain, follow the common practice. And we have seen all the sages of Israel before our master’s time and after it accustomed to take their wages from the community. And even if we concede that the halakhah is like our master in his commentary to the Mishnah, it is possible that all the sages of the generations agreed thus on the basis of ‘It is a time to act for the Lord; they have voided Your Torah’—for if the livelihood of students and teachers were not available, they could not toil in Torah properly and the Torah would be forgotten, God forbid; and with it available, they can engage [in Torah] and ‘magnify Torah and glorify it.’”
Ironically, he sees specifically Maimonides’ approach (Torah together with work) as the path for the few, which “many attempted and did not succeed,” and he argues that there is a dispensation to study Torah only and not earn a livelihood on the basis of “It is a time to act for the Lord” (this is also the reverse of what we saw in the Talmud, Berakhot 35b, where it is presented as a consideration against Rashbi’s path). That is, according to his view, being a kollel fellow supported by charity is an after-the-fact dispensation. This is exactly the opposite of the Haredi approach, which sees the dispensation to engage in other things as an after-the-fact allowance based on “It is a time to act for the Lord.”
Incidentally, Maimonides’ argument—that one will end up robbing people—is being fulfilled before our eyes. A society that educates all its members to sacrifice themselves for Torah study even at the cost of harming their livelihood indeed comes to rob the public (see for example here, here, here, and here). Note that the “robber” here is not the individual but the Haredi society as a whole. Maimonides’ prophecy is coming true before our eyes. It seems that this path is incorrect in itself and also leads to terrible consequences of theft and desecration of God’s name (and we have not even spoken about sharing the burden of military service, of course).
Conclusion
It seems to me that this example from Rabbi Elyashiv well reflects the problems I discussed in column 682. A halakhic decisor who is detached from the world and does not truly understand it cannot issue practical rulings for people and certainly not for the public. The halakhic instructions of such a decisor lead to halakhic and Torah distortions, not just to distress. They are simply incorrect rulings. I wrote something similar in the past (see columns 62, 277, and 655 and in my article here) about a decree that did not spread throughout the public. The common understanding is that although this is a worthy conduct, halakhah tells us to refrain from it because the public will not withstand it. The assumption is that the public is weak and one must take it into consideration. In my view the explanation is the reverse: if most of the public cannot stand up to it, then this is an unworthy halakhic conduct even for people of stature. The Torah was not given to ministering angels but to the public at large, and therefore this decree is void. This is not an after-the-fact accommodation to the public’s weakness but an indication of the divine will and of the Torah. The Torah was given to be implemented by a reasonable person in the world, and ascetic models are a distortion that runs counter to its will. “The layman’s view is the opposite of the Torah’s view,” but contrary to what is taught in Bnei Brak, in many cases it is precisely the laymen who are right, for the “Torah view” is far from common sense. This is what halakhic decision-making looks like when it does not take common sense into account.
Accordingly, it is clear that those who address Rabbi Elyashiv and similar figures must understand that they can turn to him with scholarly, conceptual questions, but not with practical ones. If one wants to clarify the halakhic parameters of a husband’s obligations toward his wife, it is certainly proper and good to turn to Rabbi Elyashiv. But if one wants to know what to do in practice, he is very much not the address. And, as noted, he is certainly not the address to chart a path for the many.
One must understand that a society that conducts itself according to such models is a society that distorts the Torah and is not only immoral and inhuman—the halakhah and Torah it produces are incorrect. This does not mean there is no place to value the devotion of such people to Torah, but it is certainly important alongside that to understand that such a life is a distortion and at most has an after-the-fact dispensation, and certainly is not a proper path for the many. This is a distorted self-sacrifice which—even if it is worthy of esteem—must be placed in context and in proportion to the truth.[2]
[1] Taken from the Shabbat supplement of Yated Ne’eman 35a (5768), p. 4.
[2] I wrote something similar in the past about Roi Klein (see for example here). In my opinion his act was halakhically prohibited, but that does not mean he does not deserve very great admiration for his self-sacrifice. But it is not right to educate people to imitate him. It is a wonderful educational model as an ideal utopia whose point is commitment to others and to the people of Israel, but not as a model for imitation.
Discussion
The blame lies with the Ministry of Education, which subsidizes Haredi institutions even though they do not meet all the criteria, one of which is to develop tools for independent thinking, and another is the acquisition of skills necessary for integration into the economic and working life of the state. Haredi society uses arguments of cultural uniqueness to subsidize its institutions, arguments that turn them into a sect, or at best into something like the Druze or the Arabs. It is very sad that every Haredi doctor is in fact either a baal teshuvah or a former religious-Zionist.
Anyone trying to explain away the Rambam should look at his words in his Commentary on the Mishnah on tractate Avot, chapter 4:
Know that what he said, that one should not make the Torah “a spade with which to dig,” means that you should not regard it as a tool to make a living from. And he explained and said that whoever derives benefit in this world from the honor of the Torah takes his life from the world—that is, from the life of the World to Come. People have distorted this plain expression and thrown it behind their backs and relied on the simple meaning of matters they did not understand, and I shall explain them. They established for themselves rules for individuals and for communities, and led people to think, in complete foolishness, that it is obligatory and proper to support sages and students and people occupied with Torah, whose trade is Torah. All this is a mistake. Nothing in the Torah or in the words of the sages confirms it, nor is there any basis on which it can stand. For when we examine the words of our Sages, of blessed memory, we do not find that they sought money from people, nor that they collected money for the honored and precious yeshivot, nor for the exilarchs, nor for their judges, nor for teachers of Torah, nor for any of the great men, nor for the rest of the people. Rather, in every generation and in all their communities, we find that there were some in extreme poverty and others in extreme wealth. Far be it from me to suspect those generations of not being charitable and giving tzedakah, for certainly, if that poor man had stretched out his hand to take, they would have filled his house with gold and pearls. But he did not want to. Rather, he was satisfied with his work from which he supported himself, whether comfortably or with difficulty, and he despised what was in other people’s hands, because the Torah prevented him from this. You already know that Hillel the Elder was a woodchopper and studied before Shemaya and Avtalyon, and he was exceedingly poor, and his greatness was as you know from his disciples, who were likened to Moses and Aaron and Joshua, and the least of his disciples was Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai. There is no doubt for an intelligent person that if he had taught the people of his generation to derive benefit from them, they would not have let him chop wood. And R. Hanina ben Dosa, concerning whom a heavenly voice went forth and said: “The whole world is sustained only for the sake of Hanina My son, and Hanina My son is satisfied with a kav of carobs from one Sabbath eve to the next,” did not seek from people. And Karna was a judge in the Land of Israel, and he would draw water, and when litigants came before him he would say: Give me someone to draw in my place, or give me compensation for my idleness, and I will judge for you. The Israelites of their generation were neither cruel nor lacking in acts of kindness. We have not found any poor sage among the sages who condemned the people of his generation for not tithing for them—heaven forbid! Rather, they themselves were pious, believing the truth for themselves, and believed in God, may He be blessed, and in the Torah of Moses, by which one merits life in the World to Come. They did not permit themselves to ask people for money, and they saw taking it as a desecration of God’s name in the eyes of the masses, because people would think that the Torah is one of the trades by which a person lives, and it would become degraded in their eyes, and whoever does this is “despising the word of the Lord.” Those who forcefully dispute the truth and the plain and manifest verses have only gone astray by taking people’s money willingly or unwillingly from cases they find in the Gemara involving people physically disabled or elderly and advanced in years, who could no longer work and had no option but to take money from others; otherwise what would they do, die? The Torah did not command that. You will find that the incident they brought as proof from the saying “she was like merchant ships; from afar she brings her bread” refers to a disabled person who could not work. But where one has the ability, the Torah did not devise for him such a path. And Rav Yosef would carry wood from place to place, and would say: “Great is labor, for it warms its master,” meaning through the exertion of his limbs, for by carrying the heavy wood his body would certainly become warm. He praised this and rejoiced in it, and took pleasure in what God, may He be exalted, had allotted him in the virtues of self-sufficiency. I have heard confused madmen hanging on to the proof they brought from the saying: “Whoever wishes to benefit may benefit like Elisha, and whoever wishes not to benefit should not benefit like Samuel of Ramah.” But this is not at all comparable to what they bring from it. In my view, it is a great error to cite proof from it, because it is obvious and not a place where a person can err. Elisha did not accept money from people, much less ask it of them and establish rules for them—God forbid! Rather, he accepted only honor, when a person would host him as he passed by and he would stay in that person’s house and eat his bread that night or that day, and then return to his affairs. Samuel, however, would not enter anyone’s house or eat from anyone. Likewise our Sages said that if a Torah scholar wishes to emulate this and not enter anyone’s house, he may; and if he wishes to be hosted by someone when passing by for travel needs, he may, because they already warned against eating with just anyone unnecessarily, and said: “A Torah scholar who increases his meals everywhere…” and they said: “Any meal that is not for a mitzvah, it is forbidden for a Torah scholar to derive benefit from it.” Why should I go on at length in this matter? I will only mention the incident made clear in the Gemara: a certain man had a vineyard, and thieves would enter it. Every time he saw that each day his fruit was diminishing, and he had no doubt that one of the thieves had set his eyes on it, he was distressed all the days of the harvest until he harvested what he harvested, dried them until they became raisins, and gathered the raisins. It is people’s way that when they gather raisins, some berries from the figs and grapes fall, and it is permitted to eat them because they are ownerless, and the owners have left them because of their small amount for whoever finds them. R. Tarfon happened one day to come to that vineyard and sat and gathered from the fallen raisins and ate them. The owner of the vineyard came and thought this was the thief who had robbed him the whole year. He did not recognize him, though he had heard of him. He seized him, overpowered him, put him in a sack, and placed him on his shoulder to throw him into the river. When R. Tarfon saw this, he cried out: Woe to Tarfon, for this man is killing him! When the owner of the vineyard heard this, he let him go and fled, knowing he had committed a great sin. R. Tarfon was distressed from that day onward all his life, mourning what happened to him, because he had saved himself through the honor of the Torah, though he was very wealthy and could have said: Let me go and I will give you such-and-such gold pieces—and he would have given them to him. He did not need to reveal that he was R. Tarfon. He could have saved himself with his money and not with the Torah. And they said: All the days of that righteous man he was distressed over this matter, and said: Woe is me that I made use of the crown of Torah, for whoever makes use of the crown of Torah has no share in the World to Come and is uprooted from the world. And they said regarding this: Because R. Tarfon was very wealthy, and he could have appeased him with money. So too our holy Rabbi, peace be upon him, opened his storehouses in a year of famine and said: Whoever wishes to come and receive sustenance, let him come and be sustained, provided he is a Torah scholar. R. Yonatan ben Amram came and stood before him, and he did not recognize him. He said to him: Rabbi, sustain me. He said to him: Have you read Scripture? Have you studied Mishnah? He said: No. He said: Then with what shall I sustain you? He said to him: Sustain me like a dog and like a raven—that is, even though I have no wisdom, just as God sustains an unclean beast and an unclean bird, for an ignoramus is no worse than they are. So he gave to him. Afterwards he regretted having been persuaded by his words and said: Woe is me that an ignoramus has benefited from my property. Those listening said to him: What happened to him? Perhaps Yonatan ben Amram, your student, is he, who does not want to benefit from the honor of Torah when he can avoid it, even by stratagem. He investigated and found that this was indeed the case. These two stories should silence anyone who disputes in this matter. As for the things that the Torah permitted for a Torah scholar: that people should entrust their money to him for someone else to do business with it by his choice, and all the profit will belong to them if he wishes—and one who does this receives great reward for it. This is “placing merchandise into the purse of a Torah scholar.” Also, that their wares should be sold before all other wares and that people should buy from them at the beginning of the market—these are laws established for them by God, may He be blessed, just as He established the priestly gifts for the priest and the tithes for the Levite, according to what came down in tradition, because merchants do these two things for one another as a mark of respect, even where there is no wisdom involved; all the more so should a Torah scholar be as an honored common person. Similarly, the Torah lightened from Torah scholars the obligations of taxes and army billeting and the personal levies imposed on each person, known as the poll tax; the community pays them on their behalf. Likewise with the building of walls and similar things. Even if the Torah scholar is wealthy, he is not obligated in any of this. Our teacher Rabbi Yosef HaLevi, of blessed memory, once ruled for a man who had gardens and orchards, for which he owed thousands of gold pieces, that he was exempt from paying anything of all that we mentioned because he was a Torah scholar—even though in that tax even the poorest Jew would pay. This is Torah law, just as the Torah exempted the priests from the half-shekel, as we explained in its proper place, and so too anything similar.
Correction: Dvinsk and Danzig are two different cities.
Indeed. I was mistaken.
I think you’ll like this
https://www.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=7315696268443257&id=100000088698333
A central point in the column is that an individual should follow this path of abstinence on condition that, without him, the world would lack such an exemplary figure—namely, a true genius and a tireless scholar. But in the education many received, they heard about mediocre minds who became geniuses through toil and prayer—and therefore he wants to be among those individuals, because the achievements are guaranteed to make him the unique one of the generation that the world is going to lose.
Besides, in order to be a nazir among those individuals, the Rambam [elsewhere] does not set talent as the condition, but rather someone who has cast off from himself the burden of the many people’s calculations, etc.
I agree with the assumption that this instruction is only for individuals, but the only condition for it is that it be genuine, as in the Rambam’s words, that he has cast off from himself the burden of the many people’s calculations—not being swept along after the herd, but Torah for its own sake alone—and that is a rare commodity.
[This is apparently the dispute in Berakhot whether someone whose inside does not match his outside may enter the study hall or not—but there it is not necessarily about learning 24/7.]
The Haredi joke says that a baal teshuvah stops being a baal teshuvah and becomes a regular Haredi when he starts talking during the reader’s repetition of the Amidah.
By the same token, someone who presumes to express opinions on matters concerning Haredi “greats” must first understand a few elementary first principles, one of which is that quotations in the press in the names of the “greats” are mostly distorted, and a minority are outright false.
And speaking of common sense, I’m sure that almost any average Haredi kollel fellow who sees this quote would react with complete disbelief.
And by the way, your whole description of Rabbi Elyashiv as a secluded man who did not understand worldly matters is a description very far from reality, and well-known facts need no proof.
As a graduate of Haredi society, which educates one to be a kollel fellow and to become expert in Torah—and if Heaven forbid you are no longer a kollel fellow, then you are some kind of second-class type, which is a major problem in itself—I think there is an equally serious problem: when a young man decides he is leaving the Haredi kollel world, he factors in that he has missed his share in Torah, and therefore there is no longer any point in his learning or investing in Torah outside work hours / academic study hours.
(From personal experience that I am dealing with.)
I wrote that even if Rabbi Elyashiv did not actually rule this way, or if he knew the kollel fellow standing before him and knew that such guidance suited him, the fact that such guidance is presented publicly and people are educated in its light points to a distortion in society. When examining a society’s patterns of thought and attitudes, the falsehoods teach no less than the truth.
I see here a rabbi who is aware of the limits of his knowledge of the world, and therefore rules halakhically according to what is accepted. He says, “I’m telling you the halakhic ruling, and you should act on it according to what is accepted in the world.” My question is: where do you see a distortion here? After all, in the end, people really will not go to an evening kollel because they did not stipulate it in the ketubah, and because it is not accepted in the world not to help one’s wife at all. That is his halakhic ruling.
It should be remembered that today’s Haredim did not invent this seclusion from secular studies; it already began in Volozhin, when the government required the study of Russian and they closed the yeshiva. The concern was further interference in the curriculum, in religious matters.
The point is that today there is no fear that they will force them to study the New Testament, God forbid, and therefore there is no reason to prevent a child from learning English, etc. The whole fear of secularization within the Talmud Torahs and yeshivot seems to me delusional [in the army that is already a different matter].
If anything, secularization exists within the style of the institutions and the administration itself: refusing to accept students on unjustified ethnic grounds, or preferring “well-connected” people and the wealthy.
First of all, even if they didn’t invent it, they adopted it. Why is it important who invented it? Second, “the Haredim” also includes Volozhin Yeshiva itself. So for the purposes of our discussion here, they did invent it. And finally, reality has changed in many respects (not only the ones you mentioned). Among other things, we see the results of that seclusion. It is fitting to draw conclusions.
By the way, as I recall, Stampfer in his book (I believe in the second, revised edition) debunked this Haredi myth about Volozhin.
It seems to me that most of the major halakhic decisors in the last hundred years, or even more than that, were not aware of the average person’s daily life. Someone who is enclosed in the study hall most hours of the day finds it hard to know people’s challenges and norms, etc.
But still we have a great many responsa books with practical halakhic rulings. How can that be?
I wonder whether, in claims of this sort between husband and wife, the usual rule in monetary law of kim li applies, so that the husband could say that he holds that the halakhah does not follow the Ritva.
The content of the post is sensible and correct.
Regarding Rabbi Elyashiv, it is less accurate.
It is also well known among us how he used to go to women’s clothing shops in Geula,
shop after shop,
to inquire about the prices of dresses in order to know the current level of maintenance payments.
And also regarding livelihood—he was a dayan and received a good salary. Relative to the old yishuv, he lived quite comfortably.
And above all, a Litvak who was very far from mysticism,
also in rulings in the rabbinical court.
More than 1,000 volumes of Piskei Din Rabbaniyim, and he was never in the minority opinion.
And we grew up on the stories that spoke about his special wife, who agreed to devote herself to him year after year of diligence,
not the other way around.
What is less accurate? Stories are stories, but one can look at his rulings. I definitely understand that he could go and inquire in order to know the amount of maintenance. That does not mean he was familiar with the public and its surroundings.
And who spoke about mysticism?
And the fact that he was never in the minority opinion—what does that prove? First, perhaps the others deferred to him. Second, even if that is the case, what does it say?
Once again it comes back to the same thing: the Haredim want to live like in the Diaspora, without a social burden, a kind of Torah study that is not practical and focuses on empty pilpul, giving them the fantasy that they understand what God wants. The social and socio-political challenge in Israel highlights this extremism—that what is needed is real guidance and not casuistry: to go out to war or shut oneself up in the study hall, solidarity or selfishness; and unfortunately, through pilpul one can justify any action.
The problem is less with Rabbi Elyashiv, who gave the answer, and more with this type of question. Haredi society has completely lost the ability to use common sense, and people there run to a rabbi with utterly stupid questions that any truck driver could answer. Starting with rabbis’ letters explaining that one must obey traffic laws, and ending with questions like: what are we supposed to feel toward soldiers? What should our attitude be toward doctors? And so on. Any rabbi who presents a position of simple common sense is portrayed there as at least some kind of discovery of America.