The question of what is the responsibility of leadership in the American Orthodox community has engaged and fascinated and worried me for a long time. And my conclusion can be summed up by saying that above all else, leadership requires the taking of risks – not only political and financial and social and psychological risks, but also moral risks. There is a remarkable statement by our rabbis which is quoted by Maimonides: “One who is appointed to a position of leadership by the community here below, is regarded as wicked up above.” A similar thought occurs in the Zohar. To the verse, “if a prince (i.e., a leader) sins,” the Zohar adds these words: He most certainly will sin! You cannot be a community leader without being considered an evil-doer or a sinner. What a strange thing to say – and what a deterrent to public service on behalf of the community! Granted, some leaders abuse their positions and others may be neglectful of their duties; but is that a reason to say all leaders are regarded by Heaven as evil or sinful? Do we not bear enough burdens? Is there not enough to discourage us without this added onus placed upon us? What the rabbis meant, I believe, is this: leadership involves making hard decisions – or better – dirty decisions, choosing between alternatives, neither of which is perfect or clean or pure or desirable or even acceptable, but is the least evil and the least harmful. For Israeli leaders, there is no easy way out of the “Who is a Jew” issue. Clean decisions between good and evil, right and wrong, helpful or injurious – these are risk-free decisions and do not require leadership. Any intelligent and reasonable person endowed with a modicum of moral judgment can make such decisions. A leader must be willing to embrace the risk of being an evil-doer in the eyes of heaven, of being less than perfect in the abstract, of being accused of ideological error or moral truancy, if by so doing he carries out his mission of protecting the interests of …

If one sees large numbers of Jews before him, the Talmudic sages taught (Ber. 58a), he should recite a blessing: “Blessed is He who in His wisdom discerns secrets.” What are these “secrets”? The Talmud explains: no two Jews look alike and no two think alike. It is a divine “secret” how such fiercely independent individuals can pull together as one people. I am moved to recite the same blessing, Barukh Hakham ha-Bazim, as I address this distinguished gathering this evening – some two thousand or more Jews and Jewesses who neither look alike nor share identical opinions, and yet labor together, in unison, for the welfare of our people. That certainly deserves a blessing! My theme this evening is both general and specific. I shall try to trace some of our current problems to a conceptual dichotomy that has been latent for centuries. I shall seek, thereby, to identify two constants that are prerequisite for Jewish leadership and for a viable Jewish community as we move into the closing decades of this century. In his The Great Chain of Being, a pioneering work on the history of ideas published almost 50 years ago, Prof. Arthur O. Lovejoy showed how two ideas conjoined in the philosophy of Plato lived side by side peacefully for about two millennia, only to come into violent conflict with each other as their implications were spelled out over the generations. Even in the realm of ideas, friends can become foes. Compatible ideas can break out into open opposition, and apparently differing concepts can later merge into one. I detect a similar process taking place in the thought and experience of the Jewish people. Two great precepts that lived harmoniously with each other have now become sharpened into two antagonistic forces that threaten to rip apart the fabric of our people. Only a deliberate and conscious effort on the part of Jewish leaders and opinion-molders to establish peace between these ideas – to embrace both of them harmoniously – can restore the wholeness of…

When I was first invited to speak at this Convention, I was unsure of what topic to choose. When I asked the conveners what I should speak about, they gave me two concise answers. First, they said, "speak about 30 minutes." Second, they recommended I speak about "The Responsibility of Leadership in the American Orthodox Community." I shall cheerfully make every effort to accomodate both wise suggestions. The truth is that this theme has engaged and fascinated and worried me for a long time. And I have come to a rather surprising yet significant conclusion which can be summed up by saying that, in addition to and above all else, leadership requires the taking of risks – not only political and financial and social and psychological risks, but also moral risks.There is a remarkable statement by חז״ל which is quoted by Maimonides in his פיה"מ לאבות פ"א מ"ט, although our texts do not carry this dictum as he cites it. It reads: כל מי שהציבור ממנה אותו פרנס מלמטה נקרא רשע למעלה. "One who is appointed to a position of leadership by the community here below, is regarded as wicked up above." A similar thought occurs in the Zohar (III, p.24a). On the verse אשר נשיא יחטא, "if a prince (i.e., a king, a leader) sins," the Zohar adds two words, ודאי יחטא, "he most certainly will sin!" You cannot be a פרנס or a נשיא without being considered a רשע or a חוטא.What a strange thing to say--and what a deterrent to public service on behalf of the community! Granted that some leaders abuse their positions and that others may be neglectful of their duties, is that a reason to say that al 1 leaders are regarded by Heaven as רשעים or חוטאים, as evil or sinful? Do we not bear enough burdens, and is there not enough to discourage us without this added onus placed upon us by the Talmud, the Zohar, and the Rambam What the Rabbis meant, I believe, is this: Leadership involves making hard decisions--or better: dirty decisions, choosing between alternatives neither of which is perfect or clean or p…

Rabbi Lamm explores concepts of leadership in Jewish thought.

Rabbi Lamm addresses the challenges confronting rabbinic leadership in North America.

The theme of leadership has long intrigued me both because of its innate character and because I personally wrestle with its problems – often more than I care to. I have spoken and written about it in different forums several times, and I am certain that the subject is far from exhausted. I therefore offer these ruminations in honor of my distinguished colleague and dear friend, Rabbi J.J. Schacter, as he prepares to bid us farewell this coming month in order to accept a challenging leadership position in Boston.I make no pretense to presenting a scientific study of the subject. I leave that to the professionals who have begun to treat leadership as a separate sub-specialty and have written large tomes about it. My remarks are subjective, and they issue from my own experience and mostly from what I think I have found in the traditional sources of Judaism. Hence, let me begin by stressing that I am talking about Jewish leadership, especially but not exclusively rabbinic leadership, and that my point of departure is the wisdom of the Jewish tradition. I therefore preface my remarks by one necessary comment on the distinguishing character of authentic Jewish leadership. Let me illustrate this from the life of Moses.Moses is bogged down in his work as a judge as the people come to him, in his desert tent, to adjudicate their conflicts and answer their questions. Yitro, his pagan father-in-law, warns him, נבל תבל גם אתה ג□ העם הזה אשר עמך כי כבד ממך הדבר לא תוכל עשהו לבדך. "You will wear yourself and your people out; the task is too great, the burden too heavy for you to bear all by yourself." He tells Moses how to organize the judiciary effectively and systematically—appoint others, a hierarchy of judges, and you attend to the most difficult cases, a one-man supreme court. Moses accepts and implements the advice. Yet later (in בהעלותך), Moses complains to God--in almost the identical language that Yitro used—that it's not working: לא אוכל אנכי לבדי !לשאת את כל העם הזה …