1. Review פ”א: Thwng of character – extremes – man – חסד נחכם. Both = דרך ה’ 2. Character Therapy: פ”ג ה”א – medical analogy. Need for “physician of the soul.” Function of teacher פ”ג ה”ב – therapeutic determism. 3. The Exceptions – פ”ג ה”ג a) Birnbaum omits: 1) גאוה, after Moses is ענו מאוז: ולפיכך צוו חכמים מאוד מאוד הוה שפל רוח ועוד אמרו שכל המגביה לבו כפר בעיקר

The perek records the story of Rabbi Yosi ben Kisma, who was accosted by a stranger who asked him, מאיזו עיר אתה? Rabbi Yosi replied, etc., etc. What we have before us is an assertion by Rabbi Yosi that it is better to live among sages than among ignoramuses – among wise men than among fools. Rabbi Yosi disdains all material rewards that might entice him to a spiritually and scholarly less favorable environment. This is, apparently, an unexceptionable teaching. Yet the matter is not quite that simple. Is it really the best policy to pursue in order to assure the dominance of Torah in Israel? If all committed Jews decided to live exclusively in Jewish areas, where kashrut and Torah and tefillah were all assured at the highest level, would this not result in the decimation of our community and in the loss of countless thousands of Jews in the outlying communities? Furthermore, do we not have sufficient examples of great Jews who, by risking an alien environment, succeeded in converting that milieu into great centers of Torah? For instance, we know that Rav left Palestine to go down to Babylon – and almost singlehandedly made that community into a center of Torah for hundreds and hundreds of years to follow. Does Rabbi Yosi ben Kisma then mean to imply that this was wrong? Does he have any alternative solution for the spreading of Torah in Israel? I believe that Rabbi Yosi ben Kisma was not preaching a kind of contemporary retrenchment policy whereby all Orthodox Jews withdraw into one neighborhood and abandon the rest of the community. The stranger who accosted him did not ask, “Where do you live?” He asked him, מאיזו עיר אתה – “From what place are you?” And therein lies the difference. Philo maintained that the pious man is a stranger on earth, for he is intrinsically a citizen of Heaven who is only temporarily here. His real makom is in Heaven. That is, I believe, the meaning of this dialogue between the Tanna and the stranger. What, asked the stranger, is your rea…

This mishnah has a parallel in Chapter IV, where, in the name of R. Elazar HaKappar, we read of three similar qualities that “take a man out of the world” – עין רעה, יצר הרע, ושנאת הבריות. If we accept this parallelism, then “the evil eye” should be understood not in its usual context as a kind of “jinx,” but rather as a sense of begrudging which harms the perpetrator much more than its intended victim. Jealousy – the evil eye – eats away at the innards of the one who is jealous and slowly destroys him, not only psychologically and spiritually, but even physically. יצר הרע and תאווה are obviously related. And the pursuit of honor usually implies a desire to be superior to others – hence שנאת הבריות. But why only these three? And what is the meaning of the strange phrase “take him out of the world”? Should not the mishnah have mentioned three worse crimes – perhaps the three cardinal sins? I believe that the Tanna was aiming specifically at three qualities or dispositions which lend themselves to misinterpretation. The cardinal crimes or the great virtues are simple enough to observe. The blacks and the whites of life are not what make up the “world” – which is for the greatest part comprised of shades of gray. It is rare that, in crisis, we are confronted with clear-cut options: good and evil, right and wrong. Normally, we have to make subtle distinctions; we are faced with paradoxes and ambivalences and are forced to choose amid uncertainty and confusion. This confusion and ambivalence are most oppressive when we deal with ideas and qualities that can serve both the ends of good and of evil, of the right and of the wrong. At such times, not only is there an element of uncertainty as to whether we are using or abusing a certain quality, but there is a tendency for us to submit to rationalization – to abuse a quality and to assume we are doing the proper thing. Since the world is constituted mostly of such uncertainties and such qualities of double nature, when we c…

It goes without saying that it is that common vision of Torah which we call "Centrist Orthodoxy" that unites us here today. But. we ought to bear in mind what Carl Becker, the great American historian, once said. "It is important, every so often, to look at the things that go without saying to be sure that they are still going." I would add the need for intellectual vigilance to this reminder for practical caution by paraphrasing his aphorism: "It is important, every so often, to look at what we are saying about the things that go without saying to make sure we know what we are talking about." In reflecting on some of the foundations of our Weltanschauung, I do not presume to be imparting new information. The task I have set for myself is to summarize and clarify, rather than to innovate. Dr. Johnson once said that it is important not only to instruct people but also to remind them. I shall take his sage advice for this discourse. We seem to be suffering from a terminological identity crisis. We now call ourselves "Centrist Orthodoxy." There was a time, not too long ago, when we referred to ourselves as "Modern Orthodox." Others tell us that we should call ourselves simply "Orthodox," without any qualifiers, and leave it to the other Orthodox groups to conjure up adjectives for themselves. I agree with the last view in principle, but shall defer to the advocates of "Centrist Orthodoxy" for two reasons: First, it is the term that today has greatest currency, and second, it is a waste of intellectual effort and precious time to argue about titles when there are so many truly significant issues that clamor for our attention. In no way should the choice of one adjective over the other be invested with any substantive significance or assumed to be a "signal" of ideological position. We are what we are, and we should neither brag nor be apologetic about it. These days, we do more of the latter than the former, and I find that reprehensible. Let us be open and forthright …

Yeshiva University is exceedingly proud of its alumni, both men and women, in Israel: their idealism, their personal deportment, their families, their professional achievements, and their varied contributions to the State of Israel. I have met our graduates in every part of this country and they are engaged in a dizzying variety of professions and businesses. In all cases, they have given us cause for pride and "nachas."But these accomplishments are, for the most part, personal, the result of individual efforts and successes. What has been missing is the collective voice of the Yeshiva University graduates in the State of Israel.The time has come for Yeshiva University, through its alumni, to become a clear and articulate moral force in this country. Our alumni must become a cohesive group united not only by a common alma mater, but by a comprehensive Torah outlook which, without keeping to any party line, will be idealistic yet realistic, both youthfully energetic and mature, assertive but balanced, and combining enthusiasm with sanity.A wave of extremism is sweeping the world, and America and the American Jewish community have not remained unaffected by it. But the negative results are far more palpable and consequential in Israel for a number of obvious reasons: it is a smaller country; this is a highly politicized and informal society; people here suffer from a low threshold of frustration because of the accumulated military, political, and economic pressures; and the country lacks an established tradition of civility in public discourse.Yet, these are only explanations, not excuses. The situation is too serious to ignore when it sometimes seems, at least to this observer, that the lunatics have taken over the asylum.At times of this sort, we all stand under a holy imperative: do not let the center collapse!What Yeshiva has taught us, both in theory and in practice — the joining of Torah learning and Western culture under the rubric of Torah Umadda; the opennes…

Carl Becker, the great American historian, once said: “It is important, every so often, to look at the things that go without saying to be sure that they are still going.” I would add the need for intellectual vigilance to this reminder for practical caution by paraphrasing his aphorism: “It is important, every so often, to look at what we are saying about the things that go without saying to make sure we know what we are talking about.” In reflecting on some of the foundations of our Weltanschaung, I do not presume to be imparting new information. The task I have set for myself is to summarize and clarify, rather than to innovate. Dr. Johnson once said that it is important not only to instruct people but also to remind them. I shall take his sage advice for this discourse. We seem to be suffering from a terminological identity crisis. We now call ourselves “Centrist Orthodoxy.” There was a time, not too long ago, when we referred to ourselves as “Modern Orthodox.” Others tell us that we should call ourselves simply “Orthodox,” without any qualifiers, and leave it to the other Orthodox groups to conjure up adjectives for themselves. I agree with the last view in principle, but shall defer to the advocates of “Centrist Orthodoxy” for two reasons: First, it is a waste of intellectual effort and precious time to argue about titles when there are so many truly significant issues that clamor for our attention. In no way should the choice of one adjective over the other be invested with any substantive significance or assumed to be a “signal” of ideological position. This article is based upon an address at the Conference of the Educators Council of America at the Homowack Lodge, Spring Glen, N.Y., October 26, 1985. TRADITION, 22(3), Fall 1986 © 1986 Rabbinical Council of America 1 TRADITION: A Journal of Orthodox Thought We are what we are, and we should neither brag nor be apologetic about it. These days, we do more of the latter than the former, and I find that repreh…

Yeshiva University is exceedingly proud of its alumni, both men and women, in Israel: their idealism, their personal deportment, their families, their professional achievements, and their varied contributions to the State of Israel. I have met our graduates in every part of this country and they are engaged in a dizzying variety of professions and businesses. In all cases, they have given us cause for pride and “nachas.”But these accomplishments are, for the most part, personal, the result of individual efforts and successes. What has been missing is the collective voice of the Yeshiva University graduates in the State of Israel.The time has come for Yeshiva University, through its alumni, to become a clear and articulate moral force in this country. Our alumni must become a cohesive group united not only by a common alma mater, but by a comprehensive Torah outlook which, without keeping to any party line, will be idealistic yet realistic, both youthfully energetic and mature, assertive but balanced, and combining enthu­siasm with sanity.A wave of extremism is sweeping the world, and America and the American Jewish com­munity have not remained unaffected by it. But the negative results are far more palpable and consequential in Israel for a number of obvious reasons: it is a smaller country; this is a highly politicized and informal society; people here suffer from a low threshold of frustration because of the accumulated military, political, and economic pressures; and the country lacksan established tradition of civility in public discourse.Yet, these are only explanations, not excuses. The situation is too serious to ignore when it sometimes seems, at least to this observer, that the lunatics have taken over the asylum.At times of this sort, we all stand under a holy imperative: do not let the center collapse!What Yeshiva has taught us, both in theory and in practice—the joining of Torah learning and Western culture under the rubric of Torah U’Mada; openness to …

A wave of extremism is sweeping the world. America and the American Jewish community – to say nothing of the Israeli community – have not remained unaffected by it. Indeed, the pressures of a resurgent extremism affect every facet of our lives – political, social, religious, educational. In this dangerous climate we must ourselves become radicals and reassert our Centrist position with all force and vigor. What Yeshiva University has taught – the joining of Torah learning and Western culture under the rubric of Torah u’Madda; openness to the environing culture; ahavat haTorah plus ahavat Yisrael; the appreciation of tolerance and the abhorrence of bigotry; a critical but loving commitment to the State of Israel – all this is a deliberate philosophy of life, not a compromise foisted upon us. In the language of halakhah, this approach is le-khatḥilah and not be-diʿavad. As a le-khatḥilah we must project ourselves as the standard bearer of moderation in Jewish life. We must stand not only for Torah u’Madda – a broader and more comprehensive vision of Torah as expressed in a particular curricular philosophy – but also for sanity and for moderation; for the conviction that Maimonides’ “middle way” applies not only to personal dispositions and character traits, but also to communal conduct and public policy; for an appreciation that life is filled with ambiguities and complexities and resists black-and-white simplism.We of the Centrist community are often chided that our policy of Centrism and our philosophy of moderation contain implicit hidden dangers. This is true; the study of worldly culture can sometimes lead questioning young people astray. An openness to non-observant Jewish neighbors, or to non-Jews, implies that they are as human as we are, and that can sometimes have a negative effect on our attempt to maintain our traditions. Agreed. But all life is dangerous, and unless one is determined to raise one’s child in a hermetically sealed Skinner box, safe from ge…

The meaning of טוב (“good”) in the early chapters of Genesis – where at the end of every segment of Creation we read וירא אלקים... כי טוב – is tantalizingly obscure. What does “goodness,” a term usually associated with moral acts or psychological satisfaction, have to do with the natural order? If, as some maintain (e.g., Maimonides, Guide 2:30, 3:13), טוב here denotes the production of an entity whose existence conforms to its purpose or the successful execution of the divine will, then why, on the final day of the Six Days of Creation – with the emergence of man (Gen. 1:31) – does God declare that Creation is טוב מאוד, “very good”? Is it even meaningful to speak of greater and lesser degrees of success in the implementation of a divine decision to create?Ask ChatGPT The problem becomes more acute in the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden (Paradise). Before the creation of Eve, we read that Adam's condition was not good: לא טוב היות האדם לבדו, it as not good that man should be alone (2:18). If טוב is a moral or psychological category, the verse is understandable; but then the כי טוב repeated in the creation narrative in chapter 1 presents apparently insurmountable difficulties. And if the טוב of the first chapter refers to the full execution of the divine will, then the phrase לא טוב היות האדם לבדו is problematical, although not insuperably so.The question becomes more acute, however, when we turn to the story of the עץ הדעת טוב ורע (the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil). Man is warned not to eat of this tree, for "on the day that you eat thereof you will surely die" (Gen. 2:17).After the creation of Eve, the serpent ensnares her and persuades her to violate the divine command. But the serpent persists, and informs Eve that "for God knows that on the day you eat thereof your eyes will be opened and you will be like the powerful ones who know good and evil" (Gen.3:5). (Our use of "the powerful ones" follows the Aramaic translator, Onkelos, as opposed to…

The following Citation comes from an article by Judge Learned Hand, published by the Massachusetts Bar Association in 1942.... This much I think I do know — that a society so riven that the spirit of moderation is gone, no court can save; that a society where that spirit flourishes, no court need save; that in a society which evades its responsibility by thrusting upon the courts the nurture of that spirit, that spirit in the end will perish. What is the spirit of moderation? It is a temper which does not press a partisan advantage to its bitter end, which can understand and respect the other side, which feels a unity between all citizens -­real and not the factitious product of propaganda — which recognizes their common fate and their common aspirations -­in a word, which has faith in the sacredness of the individual. If you asked me how such a temper and such a faith are bred and fostered, I cannot answer. They are the last flowers of civilization, delicate and easily overrun by the weeds of our sinful human nature; we may even now be witnessing their uprooting and disappearance until in the progress of the ages their seeds can once more find some friendly soil. But I am satisfied that they must have the vigor within themselves to withstand the winds and weather of an indifferent and ruthless world; and that it is idle to seek shelter for them in a courtroom. Men must take that temper and that faith with them into the field, into the market place, into the factory, into the council-rooms, into their homes; they cannot be imposed; they must be lived.