Jay Lefkowitz[1]
recently wrote a personal account of what he calls ‘The Rise of Social Orthodoxy.’
He is a self confessed religious Modern Orthodox Jew, who shares his experience
of a new phenomenon gaining momentum in the community called ‘Social Orthodoxy’.
What is Social Orthodoxy? It is a term used to describe Jews
who observe Torah practices and rituals, yet grapple with internalizing
and translating these practices to the faith level. Jay describes
himself as follows: ‘I start my day each morning by donning tefillin...I
occasionally find myself stuck in cities on a Friday far from home because I
cannot travel back to New York City in time for the arrival of the Sabbath. I
go to synagogue each week and celebrate all the Jewish holidays. My children go
a Modern Orthodox day school...I would appear to be the very model of an
Orthodox Jew... But...I root my identity much more in Jewish culture...than in
faith and commandments. I am a Social Orthodox Jew and I am not alone.’[2]
He certainly is not alone.
But there is emerging, even a more extreme type of Social Orthodoxy
compared to the one described by Lefkowitz: -Philip Gallagher[3],
an academic sociologist, uncovered a significant sector of the Orthodox
community who ‘...identified as Orthodox, but may not stringently observe the
laws of Kashrut and Shabbos...(they) worked to create an image to the larger
community of strict religious observance. Activities inside the home that violate
the Sabbath...are accepted because they were out of the public eye.’ Often
social pressures and the desire to belong play a more important role than
theological doctrine.
My own experience of the community bears testimony to the
emergence of Social Orthodoxy. Compared to twenty years ago, in many circles it
is now considered ‘hip’ to be religious. A woman told me she was seriously
considering to become, in her words, ‘shoymies’ (a new word for shomer
shabbos), because all her children’s friends were ‘shoymies’. It was clear that
she had no desire to understand anything about Shabbos as long as she could be
perceived to conform.
The apparent widespread texting on Shabbos that takes place
between Social Orthodox youngsters, certainly does not resonate with religious observance.
Nor does popular attendance at learning programmes seem to get translated into
practice, but this is overlooked as long as the attendees are seen in the right
places. Perhaps we are witnessing the birthing and emergence of a new movement: The Ultra-Social Orthodox.
Rabbi Gidon Rothstein writes a fascinating critique on
Social Orthodoxy, saying it blemishes the image of Modern Orthodoxy. In particular,
he challenges Jay Lefkowitz’s article, even though Jay employs none of the
deviousness of the more ‘social’ followers of the Social Orthodox. Rothstein has difficulty in admitting someone
of ‘questionable faith’ into the Orthodox camp, and poignantly compares it to
omitting the ’I am the L-rd your G-d’ from the Ten Commandments. He believes we
may have over stepped the mark by creating welcoming religious
communities, which tolerate and allow for such deviation. He writes; ‘The
Talmudic view (adhered to for hundreds of years) was that we could not pray
with nonbelievers[4]...Only
over time, and especially after the rise of Reform...did rabbis find ways to
justify treating deviant Jews with less than the full opprobrium (disgrace)
halachic practice until then required...A person who does not subscribe to
the faith-claims of the religion...cannot claim to be practicing Orthodoxy.’[5]
I do acknowledge that Social Orthodoxy may have become
a little too social. (Although that’s probably not the worst crises to befall
the Jewish People, and sometimes I wish our communities would be even more
welcoming). But I have to disagree with the notion of us excluding someone who
appears to ‘lack faith’. Actually, Lefkowitz never said he lacks faith, he said
he is ‘rooted more in Jewish culture than in faith’. In Kotzker philosophy, Doubt is part of the
very fabric of Faith. And even if he did say outright that he lacked faith,
that honesty itself would be an act of faith.[6]
How, in practice, can we ever be so arrogant as to sit in judgement of
another’s faith? Even if someone says they have no faith, it does not necessarily
mean they have no faith. They might not use the same definition of faith
as we do, and unlike halachic observance which can be readily evaluated, we
have no way of evaluating faith. While
two people can keep the ‘same Shabbos’, no two people can believe in the ‘same
G-d’. Each person’s faith is coloured by an infinite number of other worldly
nuances that even they, never mind us, could never accurately articulate.
I too do not believe in the G-d an atheist doesn’t believe
in. His perception of G-d is not the same as mine. The Kotzker Rebbe once said
that he ‘does not want to believe in the same G-d any dirty old man believes
in’. I too do not want to believe in the same G-d, some people I know,
believe in.
If bad weather, for example, prevents you from travelling
somewhere, and your companion turns around and says that it’s just as well
because maybe something bad would have happened – that’s not an act of faith.
It’s an act of irrational belief in random causality.
Many people believe in a G-d of their own creation, spawned
by their own fears and superstitions. The astonishing thing is that they tell
everyone they believe in G-d - and everyone is happy - and they are permitted to
enter the camp. Yet why do we want to punish someone who because of his honesty, has
intellectual difficulty in believing in their G-d?[7]
Halachic observance can be observed. Maybe that’s why it’s
called observance. But how can we subject another person to observation and inspection
of their faith component?
When we do, we become Faith Stalkers.
[1] A
senior policy adviser to the George W. Bush administration. Served as Special
Envoy For Human Rights in North Korea, and currently a lawyer in private
practice in New York City.
[2]
Commentary Magazine January 2014.
[3] As
quoted in: Social Orthodoxy or Sweatpants Orthodoxy, by Alan Brill.
Kavvanah.worldpress.com 2014/08/13
[4]
It’s interesting to see that Kol Nidrei night, when we are permitted to pray
with ‘sinners’, is an exception to this rule.
[5]
See ‘Torah Musings. If the Social Orthodox had been in Egypt, would they have
been redeemed?’
[6]
This is because the foundation of faith has to be honesty. Emet VeEmunah –
Honesty then Faith.
[7]
The Ten Commandments say: ‘I am Your (not The) G-d’ - leaving room
for different perceptions of G-d.
No comments:
Post a Comment