Saturday, May 29, 2010

The Pointlessness of it All (On Higher Criticism)

[This will be the last post I write on the subject. I intend to spend my time from here on in on more productive issues - aiwac]
Menachem Mendel has put up the entire program of a major conference in Jewish Studies taking place in Ben-Gurion University. There is a heavy emphasis on the relationship between Bible Studies and Orthodox Judaism, with most of the First session being by Orthodox adherents of the DH (Baruch Schwartz and James Kugel; to be fair, I have no idea what Tovah Ganzel will be discussing).
Originally, I was going to write a post expressing my exasperation at the fact that we have no-one who can give an Orthodox response to stuff like this. I mean it's not like there weren't and aren't Orthodox scholars on Bible out there (Uri Simon, Yehuda Elitzur zt"l, Amos Frish &c). I was going to read the riot act to people like Jeremiah Unterman and Shneyur Leiman, both of whom have complained in different contexts of the lack of a substantive Orthodox response/answer to the challenges of Biblical Criticism of the Chumash. I would charge that they should put their money where their mouth is and compose such solutions/answers (after all, both have the requisite knowledge, training and yir'at shamayim).
Having seen the discussion of this issue in Hirhurim, especially the responses of a certain "Jerry", I must regrettably retract that challenge. Apparently the Charedim are right on this issue - one is either a James Kugel or a fundamentalist when it comes to the Torah. Orthodox Jewish scholars are apparently either incapable or unwilling to provide any other option.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Good Diagnosis, Bad Cure (On Esther Lapian)

[The following is yet another "fictional letter" meant to deal with Esther Lapian's article in the latest issue of Conversations (no.7) – the article itself is unfortunately not online. Enjoy, aiwac]

Dear Esther Lapian,

I recently read your article in Conversations regarding the "Charedization" of the Mamad educational system. You complain of the anti-intellectual atmosphere and attitude of the educational personnel, where it is better that a teacher "dress properly" than know Matisse. I share your concerns and I think the increasing retreat of our educational institutions is losing us many thousands of good people – adults and students - every year.

To be sure, I could question the cavalier manner in which you approach the genuine and legitimate concerns of students and educational personnel towards halachically and theologically problematic issues (I refer you to a letter I wrote to Dr. Aviad Hacohen on this very subject). But I fear that your article suffers from much deeper flaws, which I would like to expound on in this letter.

The first and most obvious flaw is how you frame the issue. To you, apparently, the Chardal-liberal struggle is a zero-sum-game. Either one is completely open to the world, in school as well as in life, or one shuts it out completely; there is no room in your world for compromise. Surely, Ms. Lapian, you are aware that most Jews in the RZ community are somewhere in the middle. There are many, for instance, who would love for their children to learn about literature and science, but might hesitate to let their kids look at nude paintings. Furthermore, I'm fairly certain the overwhelming majority of religious parents, regardless of personal beliefs, would vociferously object to actively exposing their children to theological landmines like Higher Biblical Criticism.

But there's an even deeper issue at stake, one that goes to the heart of your article. Throughout your long panegyric to your students, you go on and on about how open-minded they are; how cultured and intelligent. You explain quite well their "deviations" from certain halachic norms. But not once in your article do you demonstrate that your students are genuinely yir'ei hashem, i.e. devout. Not "halachic", not "makpid" – but religious in the true, fullest sense of the word.

I mention this because your students sound to me too much like a certain archetype of religious Jewish scholar I have had the misfortune to meet many times over the years. Said scholar also "goes through the motions" – keeping halacha, sending their kids to the "right" schools and maybe even is stricter than usual on certain issues. But they are all – to a man and woman – either religiously dead or broken, leading double, compartmentalized lives. One life – the life of scholarship and the Western world – sees them happy, enthusiastic with shining eyes. The other life – the life of ol Torah U'Mitzvot – shows a different, functional side. The fire in their eyes goes out when they live this life; there is no true ahavat Torah. I have never seen such a person truly daven with kavana and God-awareness – not even on Yom Kippur. To address and excuse the halachic actions of such people is to utterly miss the point.

Perhaps you may respond – why is this relevant? After all, many of the frum, anti-intellectual teachers that currently populate the Mamad schools also "go through the motions". To which I will reply – it's relevant because the frum teacher is not the one taking my children on a journey through the wonderful but dangerous world of modernity – your students are. From what I understand, they will do so while being incredibly enthusiastic about the outside world and lukewarm at best about the world from which they came. Children aren't stupid, Ms. Lapian. When they see your students' relative "enthusiasm deficit" for Judaism, what lesson do you think they'll take away from it?

Don't misunderstand me, Ms. Lapian. I believe in the value of secular knowledge. I agree that Orthodoxy needs to come to grips with the various challenges the world has to offer. But they cannot do so and remain ovdei hashem, if, as you contend, the only value worth investing in is "openness" to the world.

Judaism, especially Orthodox Judaism, is not just a "lifestyle" – it is a serious, deep commitment to a series of truths, values and rules which we have carried for thousands of years. Teachers who wish to introduce students to the world must be equally committed – emotionally as well as intellectually – to that world. From what I have read in your article, Ms. Lapian, your students are not up for the job.

Sadly yours,

A (Now-Centrist) MO Parent

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

National Learning Day (On Shavuot in Israel)

I've had opportunity to mention the various Jewish learning initiatives that take place in Israel year-round. Today I'd like to talk about an even more amazing phenomenon: the transformation of Shavuot into "National Jewish learning day".
Anyone who has lived here in the past ten years or so can attest to what can only be called a revolution. The old religious minhag of studying all Shavuot night in preparation for kabalat hatorah has turned into a gigantic festival of Jewish learning, lectures and symposia all over the country. Everyone - Charedim, Orthodox, traditional and secular - are joining in the fun, whether in Jerusalem, Tel Aviv or Sderot. The learning comes in all flavors, from divrei Torah at shuls, to lectures by the Conservative and Reform movements, to secular cultural gatherings that discuss Jewish sources from even more diverse points of view.
Speaking as someone for whom Shavuot was, for many years, the "cheesecake" holiday that's just another Yom Tov, I stand amazed at this development. It is a testament to the desire on the part of many, many Jews to strengthen and deepen their Jewish identity and cultural attachments. It is, if you will, a different kind of kiruv, of kiruv levavot (bringing people together); what Evanston Jew would call chizuk. At a time when the Charedi-secular kulturkampf drums are being beaten once again, it's nice to look at Shavuot in Israel and see what a little learning can do to bring Jews together.
So, for those of you who read my blog, both in Eretz Hakodesh and in the Diaspora, I wish you all a Chag Shavuot Sameach and a Happy National Learning Day. Let's learn 'till we drop!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Is Bar-Ilan a "religious university"? What does that even mean?

[The following post is based on my own thoughts and a long talk I recently had with a former professor of mine on the subject. Constructive feedback is welcome - aiwac]

I am a proud graduate of Bar-Ilan University. I consider it a badge of honor. Unlike some, I have no feelings of inferiority towards the "secular" universities (Hebrew U, Tel Aviv U &c). I have read the scholarship of people from both areas, and I can proudly say that BIU is no less a bastion of academic excellence than the other institutions of higher learning in this country. Besides, I'm 6'5", so I don't even have to raise my head to "look down" on HUites J. [Those of you who have surmised my identity from this, please do not "out" me. I cherish my privacy. If you disagree with what I say, please do so on based on the merits of my arguments. aiwac]

But lately, I've gotten to wondering about BIU's claim to be a "religious university". To be sure, the "university" part is, to my mind, unquestionable. Professors at Bar-Ilan conduct research, give classes and debate issues according to the accepted scientific standards of empirical proof and formal logic just like everyone else. Nor (for the most part) is there censorship (self or otherwise), as far as I can tell. In the department in which I studied (no, no more hints), ideas and scholarly opinions that are anathema to Orthodox Jews were discussed openly and honestly. Nor should it be otherwise – to hide or whitewash unpleasant opinions or facts would destroy the credibility of the scholars of BIU.

But this brings us back to the original problem – what right does Bar-Ilan University have to bill itself as a "religious university" if there is no substantive difference between BIU and secular institutions (nor should there be, at least when it comes to academic freedom)?

What exactly makes it "religious"? The fact that it happens to have a relative preponderance of Orthodox academic personnel? The "Basic Jewish Courses" that most BA students must take? The relative preponderance of religious facilities (shuls, the kollel and the midrasha &c)?

The above-mentioned facts would seem rather peripheral to the core dilemma (except perhaps for the "Basic courses", but there are a lot of problems with them) and at most bespeak a more "friendly" atmosphere for a religious Jew wanting to study in academia. It pretty much means that people who come to study in Bar-Ilan will have to face the same issues one would face in a secular university, but they would be delivered by people who would help the "bitter pill(s)" of theological problems go down easier – using a surgeon's knife rather than a sledgehammer, so to speak. Thus, structurally at least, Bar Ilan is little different than other universities.

Ah, but therein lies the rub. While it's true that BIU does not, nay cannot differ in structure from other universities, it does differ many times in substance – specifically where it places its research emphases. Jewish religious thought, education and history is given much more thorough treatment in BIU than elsewhere. Scholars like Professor Dov Shwartz, for instance, have done a great deal towards the fleshing out and explication of Modern religious (esp. religious Zionist) thought. Much of the research done in the school of education focuses on specifically religious environments. There is a ton of academic material that comes out of Bar-Ilan on various forums on all sorts of issues pertaining to religious life, thought and dilemmas that is simply not matched (volume-wise) elsewhere. This is to say nothing of the various symposia, conferences &c on religious issues that take place every year.

There's also something else – Bar-Ilan is much more politically diverse than other universities. It's an open secret that the overwhelming majority of professors in humanistic departments in universities worldwide (and in Israel) tend to come in one of two flavors – left and hard-left (regardless of whether you define left as "liberal" or "socialist"). People who are centrists or (gasp! Shock! Horror!) right-wing will often find themselves in the uncomfortable position of a minority (even a minority-of-one). That's not the case here at BIU. The charge of BIU being a hotbed of "right-wing" fanaticism is overstated, if not simply false, when it comes to the academic personnel (wing-nuts like Prof. Hillel Weiss notwithstanding). You can find the entire gamut here – from left-wingers to centrists to rightists. Most of the professors I'm acquainted with are middle-of-the-roaders of one stripe or another. It provides a good environment for people who don't want to have to declare their ideological bona-fides every three seconds while doing research.

So I guess what I'm saying is this: Bar-Ilan University has not solved all the problems of Orthodox Jewry and the challenges of modern scholarship and science, and if that was the expectation (talk about ridiculously ambitious!) then it has only very partially lived up to it (in publications like BDD &c). But what BIU has done is create an institution where religious Jews can comfortably and more easily deal with the issues involved and develop their intellectual talents in studying and developing subjects close to them.

So is that enough to justify the "religious university" moniker? You decide.

Sunday, May 09, 2010

It's not just what you say, it's how you say it (On Yishayahu Leibowitz)

One of the most interesting and controversial Israeli Orthodox thinkers of the second half of the twentieth century was Prof. Yishayahu Leibowitz. I bring him up because in the five or so years I've spent perusing Orthodox blogs, I don't remember him ever being mentioned. I've tried to understand why this is, and I have a few possible reasons.

The first is that Leibowitz wrote primarily in Hebrew (only one of his books was ever translated) and for an Israeli audience. But I find this explanation lacking; after all – people like Rav Yoel Bin Nun, Rav Cherlow, Prof. Avi Sagi and Zvi Zohar &c are well known and discussed. So that explanation won't fly.

The second possibility is that it's because of his various religious and political positions, almost all of which were extreme. But that's even less of an excuse – extreme positions make for great internet fodder, and are almost always a reason for a 'blogstorm'.

That leaves two other possibilities – either people simply aren't interested in him, or Leibowitz is shunned in the states for the same reason he's rarely mentioned in Israeli circles. That reason is simple – when it came to public discourse (certainly post-1967), Leibowitz too often acted like a shmuck.

Yes, I know, that he was personally generous and that he often invited people to come to his house to discuss important issues for hours on end. Yes, I know that for many (mostly in the secular world, surprisingly enough), he was a clear moral beacon (even though I vehemently disagree with his analyses).

But none of this can possibly excuse the fact that when it came to public debate, he often acted like a foul-mouthed five-year-old. He often subjected his opponents (esp. on the right) to mounting heaps of verbal abuse. He had no respect whatsoever for them, even if they were Rabbinic authorities (Rabbi Goren pre-langer, Rabbi Shach etc). His penchant for reducing them and their positions to grotesque caricatures was legendary.

Then there's the "Judeo-Nazis" business. This is a stain Leibowitz legitimately earned. The IDF=Nazis equation (and its correlate, Israel=Nazi Germany) was a meme he pushed constantly and with increasing vehemence from 1967 onwards. Few people did more than Leibowitz to grant legitimacy to this disgusting bit of hyperbole.

The fact that he was personally Zionist doesn't help his case. Furthermore, it was so muted, so instrumental and tepid that many of his followers (and there were many, esp. in the heated days of the First Lebanon War and the Intifada) had little trouble taking his rhetorical attacks one step further and ditching Zionism altogether. The center he wanted to convince (or did he?) often didn't listen because his attacks were so extreme.

The sad part is that Leibowitz himself recognized, in an earlier time, that the Prophets failed to convince anyone in their time precisely because their rhetoric was so virulent and full of fire and brimstone. Would that he had followed his own advice.

A Life on the Firing Line; Thoughts on Modern Orthodoxy

To a fellow Charedi Jew,

There's a story that makes the rounds in the perennial debates between MO Jews of all types and Charedi Jews. I can't vouch for its historical accuracy, but it certainly explains a mindset:

The neo-Kantian Jewish philosopher Herman Cohen met a simple Jew from the east along the road. Excited at the chance to expound on his view of God as a Kantian ideal, he went into a long lecture explaining his view of God as a philosophical postulate. At the end of his lecture, the simple Jew looked at him and said, "That's very nice, but where is the Master of the Universe in your vision?". According to some versions, Cohen broke down and cried upon hearing this.

This story is often brought as the penultimate evidence in favor of "emunah peshutah" – simple faith. You MO Jews, they say, are like Cohen – sophisticating yourselves to death and riddled with doubts and questions. Surely it is better to be like the simple Jew from the east in this story – the kind of Jew we try to create by isolating him from the world.

The problem with this argument is that the story has a sequel, one with a tragic ending. That "Jew from the east" was likely on their way to a nearby city to make a living. Perhaps he was immigrating to another country. Yet even if he stayed where he was, the result was the same: modernity came and changed everything.

Maybe he held fast, but his children or grandchildren didn't make it. Whether it was the challenges of modern scholarship, the collapse of the kehilah community structure or the difficulties of making a living, they left Orthodoxy. In every country of Europe on the eve of WWII – Poland and Lithuania included - the majority of Jews had long since "opted out" to one extent or another. I don't need to tell you that the situation in the states was even worse. In the space of a century and a half, Jews went from being mostly shomer Torah and Mitzvot to only 10% doing so. That ratio has not changed to this day.

I am not naïve. Many, perhaps most of the losses were probably unavoidable. Jews have turned their backs on God even in times of revelation – witness the Golden Calf incident. It stands to reason that it should be all the more true in a time of mass skepticism and hester panim. But far, far too many of the losses were entirely avoidable, in my opinion.

Too many Jews left because their leaders – especially Rabbis, refused to see what was going on. They refused to answer legitimate questions of faith or invest in providing tools to those who struggled. Too many of them showed little to no sympathy to Jews who violated Shabbat to provide their families with food. Many more "Not So Frum Jews" were edged out as the Austritt-mentality of "you are either with us or against us" and the "all or nothing" attitude to Shmirat Mitzvot increasingly prevailed.

Enter Modern Orthodoxy. Contrary to what you may think, MO is not a single coherent ideology. It is a "family name", a broad category of different strategies for Orthodox Jews to cope with the difficulties of modernity. It is a category that includes TIDE along with TuM, Rav Soloveitchik and Rav Kook pere, all the way to Yeshayahu Leibowitz, the Religious Kibbutz and Ne'emanei Torah Ve'Avodah. Some have a more positive view of Torah and modernity, some less. What they all have in common is a willingness to stand on the "firing line" and help defend Orthodox Jewry against modern challenges.

The simple Jew of the above-mentioned story had no real defenses against the storm of kefira. Today, thanks to the much-despised MO, he has a multitude of options to choose from and keep the faith – both for himself and his children. It is no longer an "either-or" issue – either simple, willingly ignorant faith or complete abandonment.

I know what you're thinking – we've shut them out! Just look at the success and insularity of the Charedi community. Would that that were true, but it isn't. We both know that, at least in Israel, that society is living on borrowed time, time which is increasingly running out. Modernity is still there, with all its dangers, and no matter how much you try to shut it out, it will get in. Just look at how thoroughly the internet has penetrated Charedi homes. This is to say nothing of the masses of Charedi Jews who will have to enter the modern workforce and deal, just like us evil mizrochnikim, with the modern world. Only you'll have to do it without any real defense mechanisms or tools.

This may surprise you, but I don't like the fact that I have to struggle so hard with my faith. I don't like the fact that every day feels like a re-run of Yaacov's indecisive struggle with the angel. I, too, wish we could all live "betemimut" and without difficulty. But I don't get to choose what period I was born into and neither did you. I am happy that I at least have the option of struggling that was denied the simple Jew from the east and his descendants.

MO Jews, especially the ideologues, have been fighting in the trenches for generations to ensure that Orthodoxy is a viable faith option in the modern world. They bravely continue to struggle against all odds. Their motto could very well have been like soldiers in the civil war – "we'll fight them till hell freezes over, and then, we'll fight 'em on the ice".

So, instead of condemning us for our supposed laxity or our lack of ideological purity or consistency, perhaps you can show us some gratitude for fighting milchamta shel Torah.

Yours,

A Proud Mizrochnik

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

The "Yishuv" Model

All this talk of the importance of giving charedim good secular education brings me back to the good ol' days of the British Mandate. Why? You'll see in a moment.

Eretz Israel in the first half of the 20th century attracted much more than its fair share of original, brilliant, independent and often idiosyncratic Rabbinic thinkers. One of the lesser known of these was Rabbi Moshe Avigdor Amiel, Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv from 1936 until his death in 1946. In fact I think that in this department only Rav Kook pere and the Brisker (Rav Velvele) can claim to outclass him. One of these days I intend to discuss the riddle that is Rav Amiel, perhaps even the Brisker (who is woefully understudied in academia…). But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Rav Amiel was a big believer in Jewish education – specifically a "combined" curriculum of religious and secular studies. He established schools (for boys and girls) when he served in Antwerp. His crowning accomplishment, however, came when he settled on these shores. Its name is Yeshivat Hayishuv Hachadash or "Yishuv" as it is known – the first Yeshiva High School in Israel.

"Yishuv" was meant as a place for baalei batim (you know, those subhuman creatures who contribute to yeshivot) no less than for creating talmidei chachamim. Its discipline is legendary, as is its striving for academic excellence. Most "Old Yishuv" style Charedi Rabbis did not like this school to say the least. Efforts were made, both during Rav Amiel's lifetime and afterwards, to isolate it. Rav Amiel, a fiercely independent Rabbi who did not buy into the "Gedolim fiat" concept, refused to yield.

Ironically, the Charedi Yeshiva world benefited (and still benefits) tremendously from this "treif" institution. Many of the most brilliant and dedicated Charedi Rabbis, politicians and jurists rose from the ranks of "Yishuv". It has one of the highest matriculation clearing rates in the country.

Those Charedim that want to break the poverty circle and still maintain there "black hat"-ness could do a lot worse than creating a "grassroots" demand for more "Yishuvs".

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

Rabbi Segal, Hold Your Tongue! (On the IDF Chief Rabbinate)

I often frequent (Orthodox) blogs of people with whom I disagree, within reason. It is an enriching experience and has helped me form and mold the way I look at the Jewish world today. Evanston Jew in particular has helped me in this regard, especially when it comes to the importance of being "empathetic" to (if still strongly disagreeing with) the other side.

Rabbi Shael Segal is another such person. Most of his posts are very enlightening and well-thought out. They are demonstrative of a brilliant and off-the-beaten track type of thinking that I have always liked. Even when I find myself disagreeing with him (and that's a lot of the time), it is a disagreement of principle – not the type of thing that "gets my gander up", so to speak.

This is true except with regard to one issue – his attitude towards the IDF Chief Rabbinate. In many of his posts, Rabbi Segal makes clear his utter contempt for the Israeli Rabbinate, calling them a bunch of little peikidim and wishing the State of Israel had separated "Church and State" from the outset. This is certainly a legit, if minority position (Prof. Leibowitz held to that view from 1953 until his death).

What made me absolutely furious was that in a post on Operation Cast Lead, he extended this contempt to the IDF Chief Rabbinate. I had to study the history of the IDF Rabbinate pretty thoroughly for my thesis (sheyikatev bimehera beyameinu) so what follows is grounded in academic research. But to make a long story short, Rabbi Segal, you're full of it.

This may sound surprising, but in the first years of the state of Israel, the attitude of many religious Zionist Jews to the IDF was deeply ambivalent. On the one hand, they obviously supported serving in the Army and found it a source of pride. But serving as a religious Jew in the IDF was an extremely difficult experience. Kosher food and kosher kitchens were not always available. Almost all the commanders, junior and senior, were secular. Many were indifferent or hostile to religious needs. There were cases (I don't know how many) where Jews were forced to violate Shabbat in conditions that could by no stretch of the imagination be called "Mivtza'i" or involving military necessity. Many old-time Mafdal leaders (you know, those "always compromise, wishy-washy" types) openly called for establishing separate religious units to prevent the mass defection of the younger generation to the secular side.

Enter the first IDF Chief Rabbi of Israel, Rabbi Shlomo Goren (Gornochik). While his predecessor Nathan Gardi (head of the "religious section") helped lay some of the groundwork, it was Goren who succeeded in turning the IDF into a place where Orthodox and traditional (Masorti) Jews could serve proudly while keeping Torah and Mitzvot to whatever degree. He not only ensured that the IDF be a kosher-friendly environment. He was a pioneer of "Army halacha" and through a years-long painstaking effort created the first hands-on corpus of army-specific halachic responsa ever. Religious Jews now had what to work with to maintain the faith and serve their country. More than that, Rav Goren went to the matt many times to ensure that Jews not be forced to violate halacha unnecessarily, working together with Ben-Gurion (of all people!) to ensure that voluntary Shabbat and Holiday observance in the army (i.e. that religious soldiers not be forced to violate them) was mandated in a series of legally binding directives from the IDF Chief of Staff.

Rabbi Goren was a sincere believer in Klal Israel and was against the idea of "separate religious units. He also practiced what he preached – he was not a detached Yeshiva Rav. He participated in combat missions and even took a parachuting course. In addition to the functions of ensuring "dati-friendly" conditions, he also invested in organizing Seders on Pesach and even held series of lectures on the High Holidays. He risked life and limb to ensure the burial of Jewish soldiers who died behind enemy lines – there are reliable stories of how he crossed minefields to be kover metei mitzvah. He also helped be matir many of the agunot of Jewish soldiers, such as the Dakar incident and the dead of Gush Etzion.

Even after Rabbi Goren left, the IDF Rabbinate continued to this day to do important work. In addition to the "little pekidim" (kashrut supervisors, Rabbis) whom Rabbi Segal so despises who ensure that religious and secular Jews can serve together, there are many other functions. The chazanim (many of whom are Charedi!) who officiate at military funerals and help comfort the bereaved. The important work they do towards (non-lunatic) conversion. I could go on, but I think my point has been made.

Rabbi Segal, the IDF Rabbinate has done and continues to do exponentially more work towards Ahavat Israel and Achdut Israel than you can possibly imagine. Shame on you for smearing the work of this wonderful institution and its people.

Statistics don't lie...Read 'em and weep, seriously

Here's a run-down of stats on the Charedi community for 2009-2010 from a study conducted by the Israeli Government:
  • 56% of Charedim are classified as poor. Despite being around 8-9% of the population, they represent 19% of the poor people in Israel.
  • The overall employment rate of Charedim (women and men) is 43.2%, compared to 72% for the secular population. 37% of Charedi men work in a multi-annual cycle, as opposed to 80% for the secular-masorti crowd. Only 49% of Charedi women work, compared to 70% of secular women.
  • Only 8% of businesses employ Charedi Jews, even though 90% of them believe that most Charedim are qualified to work by them. 95% claim the reason for this is the inability to integrate Charedim into a workforce that doesn't segregate men and women. 65% of non-employed Charedim confirm this by saying they are not willing to work in a workplace that doesn't seperate men and women.
  • Male Charedim are woefully uneducated: most study in various "Torah environments", and only 9.5% have a matriculation degree and above. 40% do not know English at all, 41% have medium to low knowledge of English.
  • The opposite is true of Charedi women: 21% don't know English, 49% have a medium to ow knowledge of English and the remainder have a good command of English. 42% have a post-high school degree (mostly in the field of education). 11.5% have an academic degree. The overwhelming majority of Charedi women work in the field of Charedi education.

Not Simple, but Necessary: A Parent's Burden (On Jewish Education)

[I apologize for not following up until now on my earlier posts on Jewish education; work and exhaustion got in the way. – aiwac]

Before I get into the issue of how to teach, I would like to address the more important question: who should teach.

Tons of symposia, lectures and conferences are conducted year in, year out on Jewish schools – both here and abroad. I don't think there's a single aspect of Jewish education that hasn't been scrutinized to the nth degree. Yet in all the fuss, we seem to forget that the primary burden for passing on the Torah lies with the parents. The original mitzvah of chinuch is on the father (the mother is expected to do so naturally).

Too many times in the past, I have heard sob stories of this or that kid who "went off the derech" or who conducted themselves abominably, only to hear - "but they came from a nice Jewish home". But what does that mean? Aside from sending them to Jewish schools and keeping mitzvot at home, what Jewish content was passed on in this home?

What were the divrei Torah 'round the Shabbas table like? Were they meant to inspire the kids and bring them in on the conversation, or were they boring lectures meant to mechanically quote the Godol of the Week? What (Jewish and general) values, if any, did the parents try to inculcate into their children? Come to think of it, what did they do towards their education besides "help with the homework"? When children had questions and dilemmas of faith and problems regarding halacha – did parents listen empathetically and try to help, or did they drive them away or shunt them off to someone else?

Education doesn't just happen in the classroom. It takes place at home as well – through osmosis, mimesis and all the other indirect experiential methods of learning.

If parents really want to help with education, then instead of just constantly intervening with schools, they need to work on themselves – religiously, knowledge-wise and morally. No more outsourcing everything to someone else. It's time for Jewish parents to say to themselves – "the buck stops here".