If you're no longer frum and are interested in taking a short survey elaborating on your journey away from religiosity, please email mali_aune_main@yahoo.com and let her know that you'd like to receive the questionnaire. It's for a project about people who have been raised as Orthodox Jews and as adults no longer practice. The project is only meant to explore the experiences of this little known subculture, not to denigrate Judaism or to admonish those who no longer practice.
Update: A blog has been started to get more info on the survey: http://nolongerfrum.blogspot.com
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
The Torah Response
Since everyone's been chiming in on the latest scandal in the frum community regarding the sexual abuse allegations, I figure I have to say something too, even if only to keep up (and also to clarify being quoted out of context). I have just a few thoughts on the subject, and nothing very innovative.
Firstly, despite my well known feelings of antagonism towards the frum world, I don't for a second think that this problem is something which any normal and decent frum person is not incredibly disturbed by. Any implication that decent frum people, regardless of their affiliation, don't consider such behavior troubling is such a gross distortion of the reality that it's not worth dwelling on. I'd also like to clearly state that I don't recall ever being sexually abused in any manner at any point in my life.
However, despite that acknowledgement, I think that this issue brings to light one more manifestation of the denial and coverup that is so rampant in the frum world. The fact is that there are sexual perverts in the frum community. Whether or not they are more or less common than in general society is uncertain, but I don't see why it really matters for the purpose of this discussion. They exist. But like every other aspect of reality that clashes with their perfect Torah World fantasy, the frum world is (or rather, has been up until recently) in denial about their existence and their effects.
Like spousal abuse. And alcoholism. And drug use. And disaffected youth. Until these problems hit so hard that they can no longer be denied, the frum community continues to react to such disturbing facts by either burying its collective head in the sand, downplaying the severity of the matter, or focusing its efforts on keeping the matter hushed up.
In my opinion, this recent scandal is not and should not be only about the actual abuse that was perpetrated against innocent people. That is a horrific tragedy which can not be minimized and should not be ignored, but there is another problem here, one which is far more prevalent than the aberrant perverts in the frum world.
I don't have any evidence to go on to conclude that abuse of any kind is common in the frum world. I would tend to think that it's quite rare, but I admit that that's probably just a result of my ignorance on the issue. However, aside from my possibly mistaken view about actual abuse, I am very confident that the coverup of such incidents is rife throughout the community. People don't want to hear about it. They deny it. They think it can't be true. They're ashamed about it. And they come up with every excuse in the book not to face the issue. They think it's a Chillul Hashem. They think it's all lies. They think it's lashon hara. They think it's inappropriate to speak of sexual matters. They think it'll ruin the shidduch prospects of their family. Of course, if no one is seriously acknowledging a problem, nothing real is ever going to be done about it. So the problem doesn't go away, and the criminals capitalize on that fact, continuing their atrocities unabated.
The characters in this recent incident have had allegations about them going back decades! I have no doubt that hundreds of students were affected by this person. Certainly, many were shamed into silence, but there were also some who spoke to people about the matter. Either rabbis, family members, therapists, whomever. And yet these people were never removed from their positions of power. How is it possible that so many people's complaints and accusations went unheard? We know how. It's because the frum world would rather bury its head in the sand than acknowledge that their precious Torah communities, their respected Torah rabbis, their prestigious Torah institutions, have such a serious blemish in their midst. Doesn't the Torah say, "U'biarta HaRA Mi'Kirbecha?" Expunge the evil in your midst! Don't cover it up!!!
Gil writes about how he knows of many schools and institutions which are making serious efforts to combat this problem, and I acknowledge that such efforts should be encouraged. But as far as I can tell these efforts are not widely publicized. They are deliberately kept under the radar. And until this attitude of keeping things hush-hush is changed, the problems will not be able to be addressed properly.
As long as the community continues to delude itself into believing that its society is such a wonderful and idyllic place which couldn't ever harbor such despicable monsters, these terrible atrocities will continue to occur, and of course, when inevitably the tragedy they were unwittingly complicit in is brought to light, they will shake their heads in shock and sorrow, asking how such a thing could ever have happened in their holy community.
How indeed?
Firstly, despite my well known feelings of antagonism towards the frum world, I don't for a second think that this problem is something which any normal and decent frum person is not incredibly disturbed by. Any implication that decent frum people, regardless of their affiliation, don't consider such behavior troubling is such a gross distortion of the reality that it's not worth dwelling on. I'd also like to clearly state that I don't recall ever being sexually abused in any manner at any point in my life.
However, despite that acknowledgement, I think that this issue brings to light one more manifestation of the denial and coverup that is so rampant in the frum world. The fact is that there are sexual perverts in the frum community. Whether or not they are more or less common than in general society is uncertain, but I don't see why it really matters for the purpose of this discussion. They exist. But like every other aspect of reality that clashes with their perfect Torah World fantasy, the frum world is (or rather, has been up until recently) in denial about their existence and their effects.
Like spousal abuse. And alcoholism. And drug use. And disaffected youth. Until these problems hit so hard that they can no longer be denied, the frum community continues to react to such disturbing facts by either burying its collective head in the sand, downplaying the severity of the matter, or focusing its efforts on keeping the matter hushed up.
In my opinion, this recent scandal is not and should not be only about the actual abuse that was perpetrated against innocent people. That is a horrific tragedy which can not be minimized and should not be ignored, but there is another problem here, one which is far more prevalent than the aberrant perverts in the frum world.
I don't have any evidence to go on to conclude that abuse of any kind is common in the frum world. I would tend to think that it's quite rare, but I admit that that's probably just a result of my ignorance on the issue. However, aside from my possibly mistaken view about actual abuse, I am very confident that the coverup of such incidents is rife throughout the community. People don't want to hear about it. They deny it. They think it can't be true. They're ashamed about it. And they come up with every excuse in the book not to face the issue. They think it's a Chillul Hashem. They think it's all lies. They think it's lashon hara. They think it's inappropriate to speak of sexual matters. They think it'll ruin the shidduch prospects of their family. Of course, if no one is seriously acknowledging a problem, nothing real is ever going to be done about it. So the problem doesn't go away, and the criminals capitalize on that fact, continuing their atrocities unabated.
The characters in this recent incident have had allegations about them going back decades! I have no doubt that hundreds of students were affected by this person. Certainly, many were shamed into silence, but there were also some who spoke to people about the matter. Either rabbis, family members, therapists, whomever. And yet these people were never removed from their positions of power. How is it possible that so many people's complaints and accusations went unheard? We know how. It's because the frum world would rather bury its head in the sand than acknowledge that their precious Torah communities, their respected Torah rabbis, their prestigious Torah institutions, have such a serious blemish in their midst. Doesn't the Torah say, "U'biarta HaRA Mi'Kirbecha?" Expunge the evil in your midst! Don't cover it up!!!
Gil writes about how he knows of many schools and institutions which are making serious efforts to combat this problem, and I acknowledge that such efforts should be encouraged. But as far as I can tell these efforts are not widely publicized. They are deliberately kept under the radar. And until this attitude of keeping things hush-hush is changed, the problems will not be able to be addressed properly.
As long as the community continues to delude itself into believing that its society is such a wonderful and idyllic place which couldn't ever harbor such despicable monsters, these terrible atrocities will continue to occur, and of course, when inevitably the tragedy they were unwittingly complicit in is brought to light, they will shake their heads in shock and sorrow, asking how such a thing could ever have happened in their holy community.
How indeed?
What It's All About
I was recently informed that I had an honorable mention in Gil's recent presentation at the RCA convention. He spoke about the effect of blogs and how important it is for rabbinic figures to be aware of the issues related to them. You can see a PowerPoint slide here. In line with what I saw Ben Avuya and Godol Hador do, I'd like to give a little introduction to any newcomers to my blog, and explain to you a bit about who I am and what this little endeavor is all about.
I myself am no longer a religious Jew, at least in the traditional meaning of the term (which I consider being a halachically observant person). I grew up in an Orthodox home, not one which would be classified as Chareidi, but also not what would be termed Modern Orthodox (MO). We were strictly halachic, but with connections to all the various frum communities and groups that existed, and I don't recall us subscribing to any practices or views which I considered too extreme. Maybe I was just too young and ignorant to know how we identified ourselves, but that's how I remember it. In any case, after childhood, my formative teen years were spent in black-hat yeshivas, and throughout high school I became increasingly more right-wing in my thinking and practice, which closely paralleled a similar change that was occurring in my overall family. After high school I discovered a more moderate form of Orthodoxy, which greatly appealed to me on certain levels, but which also triggered a serious crisis in my views of what it means to be a frum Jew. That crisis was averted and eventually I adopted that more moderate approach and spent a few years in a yeshiva which helped me integrate that philosophy into my life. I stayed that way for some time even after leaving the yeshiva, but soon after leaving the confines of that closed world, I found myself in a new environment, one consisting of many Jews of a much more MO background. Despite an initial ambivalence, I found myself feeling much more comfortable in their company than my old society. Over time, I gradually shifted to living in that more MO world, and remained there for around 4 years. That period was a very eye-opening experience for me, one which I learned much about things I was never exposed to, and which shattered many stereotypes that I had previously considered to be sacred truths of life and Judaism. Eventually, as a result of a variety of changes that were occurring within myself, my commitment to halacha began to wane, and in due course, different aspects of frumkeit were abandoned. At this point in time, I can no longer honestly consider myself a halachically observant person.
To better understand my motivations here, a more in-depth background of my transition is necessary, but it will take too much time to explore for now. Suffice it to say that over the course of my high school years I became a very committed right-wing/yeshivish/chareidi/black-hat kind of person. I completely and totally subscribed to the views they taught me. On issues of secular studies, modernity, interacting with MOTOS, halacha, the primacy of learning torah, Zionism, Modern Orthodoxy, listening to gedolim, and all the other issues upon which lines have been drawn in the Orthodox community, I had fully adopted their views. I implicitly believed all they taught me as absolute and objective truth. I believed what the gedolim said was da'as torah. I knew that the yeshivish/chareidi view of how one should live their life represented the one true derech of Avodas Hashem, and that everything else that considered itself a version of Orthodoxy was just a compromise at best, and a corrupted distortion at worst. I believed all this fully and wholeheartedly.
That was all many years ago and since that time much has changed for me. Although at one time I firmly believed in the goodness and rightness of all aspects of my chareidi lifestyle, eventually, after much honest deliberation, exploration, self-reflection, meeting many different sort of people, and learning new ways to think about and view the world and Judaism, I became aware of many deficiencies in my life, my thinking, and my self. I discovered how weak many of the pillars of my faith really were. I discovered how poorly my religious upbringing met any of my most important and basic needs. I found gaping intellectual breaches in what I had previously thought were strongholds of logic. I discovered glaring holes in our tradition.
After allowing myself to step onto this alternative path which was so different from the one I had initially been following, I encountered other issues which had nothing to do with me personally, but which sowed further doubt in my mind as to the rightness of that former derech. I was shocked to discover how so many of the foundations of my identity were based on lies. I became aware of how people who were charged with my best interests ignored them to pursue their own agendas. I came to understand how so much of what I thought was a divinely inspired way of life was a combination of half-truths, distortions, cover-ups, deliberately maintained ignorance, normal societal development, and sometimes even outright lies. I found hypocrisy and inconsistency. I came to see just how lacking those who I trusted as paragons of virtue, honesty, and spirituality, really were.
That's what this blog is about. It is my voice and my feelings about how I think the Orthodox life that I came from is inadequate. Many of the ideas I express here are personal and subjective. You will generally not find logical arguments disproving the existence of God, or showing how the Bible was written by man. That's not to say that those issues don't play a part in my transition. They do to some extent. But my focus here is rather on how for certain people, for people such as myself, the Orthodoxy that I was raised with can simply no longer work for me.
When reading my entries you will see that I point to many different factors that contributed to who I am now. Family upbringing, personal experiences, societal difficulties, intellectual arguments, communal issues, and many other factors have all played a part in my development. One day I hope to develop all these disparate ideas into a coherent presentation that can clearly show the buildup and breakdown of how these issues affected me. Another day perhaps.
For now, you're welcome to read my incohernet ramblings in their original and contradictory form. Read about my experiences in yeshiva and how they adversely affected my perceptions of Judaism and Torah (link, link). See the manner in which many of the sacred ideas of my former lifestyle deteriorated (link, link, link). Later on I explore the realization of discovering how inadequate my upbringing was in preparing me for real life (link, link). I discuss my efforts to undo the flawed manner in which my mind was trained to think (link, link, link). I share some of the ways my family deals with my change (link). I explain why I don't like certain yomim tovim (link, link). I speak about my struggle to construct a new way of practicing Judaism that is devoid of the painful relics of my past (link). At times I also focus on certain specific and common issues which plague the frum world (link, link).
This blog was originally intended as a personal project to give myself an outlet. It was never meant to be a soapbox. Despite that, at this point in the process, I feel that I want others to hear the things I have to say. The things I'm writing about are not just about me. The experiences I relate are those of thousands of others who feel the same. The dissatisfaction I express is widespread. The frustrations, resentments, and discontent of those like me is a festering sore that the frum community has ignored for far too long. (Just one more unpleasant fact they prefer to deny and consequently sweep under the carpet.)
For myself, the issues I explore no longer hold such significance. I have left the community and have very little interest in returning to it. But I want you all to hear it because it's about you. You are the ones who are causing all these problems. You are the ones that are forcing scores of youth to grow up unhappy and miserable, feeling they are worthless. You're the ones that believe that your lifestyle is the path to the most happy and fulfilled life that a person can wish for. And you need to hear just how wrong you really are. Judaism might indeed be beautiful, but what you're giving us is damn ugly. It isn't fulfilling, it isn't enjoyable, and it sure isn't something we're going to put up with when we finally have an opportunity to escape it. It isn't the outside world, or the Internet, or movies, or striped shirts, or chalav stam, or Rav Kook, that make us want to get out. It's you. You need to hear that loud and clear. You are what's making us hate Judaism.
Yes, I am biased, and subjective, and at times quite bitter. But I am a product of your society. And I am not an aberration. I'm not alone. There are plenty of people out there who have left just like I have. And there are plenty more who would love to get out if they could find a way. And I believe that there are many more that are not yet at that point, but who are on the inevitable path which will eventually bring them to that sad realization.
Ignore me if you wish. Marginalize me. Reject my ideas as the angry rantings of a cynical and irrational individual. I don't claim to always be entirely objective. But what I do say, absolutely and unequivocally, is that even if my views are subjective, they are worth listening to. Even if they are biased. Because your system is failing. Whether or not it's objectively the best, the most true, the most holy, the most whatever, on a subjective level, it's failing dismally. Objectively or subjectively, the fact of the matter is, it's not working for far too many. Emotions might not be rational, but they are real. And in the calculus of what shapes our commitments and attitudes about our religion, they are as important - if not more so - than cold, hard logical arguments.
I myself am no longer a religious Jew, at least in the traditional meaning of the term (which I consider being a halachically observant person). I grew up in an Orthodox home, not one which would be classified as Chareidi, but also not what would be termed Modern Orthodox (MO). We were strictly halachic, but with connections to all the various frum communities and groups that existed, and I don't recall us subscribing to any practices or views which I considered too extreme. Maybe I was just too young and ignorant to know how we identified ourselves, but that's how I remember it. In any case, after childhood, my formative teen years were spent in black-hat yeshivas, and throughout high school I became increasingly more right-wing in my thinking and practice, which closely paralleled a similar change that was occurring in my overall family. After high school I discovered a more moderate form of Orthodoxy, which greatly appealed to me on certain levels, but which also triggered a serious crisis in my views of what it means to be a frum Jew. That crisis was averted and eventually I adopted that more moderate approach and spent a few years in a yeshiva which helped me integrate that philosophy into my life. I stayed that way for some time even after leaving the yeshiva, but soon after leaving the confines of that closed world, I found myself in a new environment, one consisting of many Jews of a much more MO background. Despite an initial ambivalence, I found myself feeling much more comfortable in their company than my old society. Over time, I gradually shifted to living in that more MO world, and remained there for around 4 years. That period was a very eye-opening experience for me, one which I learned much about things I was never exposed to, and which shattered many stereotypes that I had previously considered to be sacred truths of life and Judaism. Eventually, as a result of a variety of changes that were occurring within myself, my commitment to halacha began to wane, and in due course, different aspects of frumkeit were abandoned. At this point in time, I can no longer honestly consider myself a halachically observant person.
To better understand my motivations here, a more in-depth background of my transition is necessary, but it will take too much time to explore for now. Suffice it to say that over the course of my high school years I became a very committed right-wing/yeshivish/chareidi/black-hat kind of person. I completely and totally subscribed to the views they taught me. On issues of secular studies, modernity, interacting with MOTOS, halacha, the primacy of learning torah, Zionism, Modern Orthodoxy, listening to gedolim, and all the other issues upon which lines have been drawn in the Orthodox community, I had fully adopted their views. I implicitly believed all they taught me as absolute and objective truth. I believed what the gedolim said was da'as torah. I knew that the yeshivish/chareidi view of how one should live their life represented the one true derech of Avodas Hashem, and that everything else that considered itself a version of Orthodoxy was just a compromise at best, and a corrupted distortion at worst. I believed all this fully and wholeheartedly.
That was all many years ago and since that time much has changed for me. Although at one time I firmly believed in the goodness and rightness of all aspects of my chareidi lifestyle, eventually, after much honest deliberation, exploration, self-reflection, meeting many different sort of people, and learning new ways to think about and view the world and Judaism, I became aware of many deficiencies in my life, my thinking, and my self. I discovered how weak many of the pillars of my faith really were. I discovered how poorly my religious upbringing met any of my most important and basic needs. I found gaping intellectual breaches in what I had previously thought were strongholds of logic. I discovered glaring holes in our tradition.
After allowing myself to step onto this alternative path which was so different from the one I had initially been following, I encountered other issues which had nothing to do with me personally, but which sowed further doubt in my mind as to the rightness of that former derech. I was shocked to discover how so many of the foundations of my identity were based on lies. I became aware of how people who were charged with my best interests ignored them to pursue their own agendas. I came to understand how so much of what I thought was a divinely inspired way of life was a combination of half-truths, distortions, cover-ups, deliberately maintained ignorance, normal societal development, and sometimes even outright lies. I found hypocrisy and inconsistency. I came to see just how lacking those who I trusted as paragons of virtue, honesty, and spirituality, really were.
That's what this blog is about. It is my voice and my feelings about how I think the Orthodox life that I came from is inadequate. Many of the ideas I express here are personal and subjective. You will generally not find logical arguments disproving the existence of God, or showing how the Bible was written by man. That's not to say that those issues don't play a part in my transition. They do to some extent. But my focus here is rather on how for certain people, for people such as myself, the Orthodoxy that I was raised with can simply no longer work for me.
When reading my entries you will see that I point to many different factors that contributed to who I am now. Family upbringing, personal experiences, societal difficulties, intellectual arguments, communal issues, and many other factors have all played a part in my development. One day I hope to develop all these disparate ideas into a coherent presentation that can clearly show the buildup and breakdown of how these issues affected me. Another day perhaps.
For now, you're welcome to read my incohernet ramblings in their original and contradictory form. Read about my experiences in yeshiva and how they adversely affected my perceptions of Judaism and Torah (link, link). See the manner in which many of the sacred ideas of my former lifestyle deteriorated (link, link, link). Later on I explore the realization of discovering how inadequate my upbringing was in preparing me for real life (link, link). I discuss my efforts to undo the flawed manner in which my mind was trained to think (link, link, link). I share some of the ways my family deals with my change (link). I explain why I don't like certain yomim tovim (link, link). I speak about my struggle to construct a new way of practicing Judaism that is devoid of the painful relics of my past (link). At times I also focus on certain specific and common issues which plague the frum world (link, link).
This blog was originally intended as a personal project to give myself an outlet. It was never meant to be a soapbox. Despite that, at this point in the process, I feel that I want others to hear the things I have to say. The things I'm writing about are not just about me. The experiences I relate are those of thousands of others who feel the same. The dissatisfaction I express is widespread. The frustrations, resentments, and discontent of those like me is a festering sore that the frum community has ignored for far too long. (Just one more unpleasant fact they prefer to deny and consequently sweep under the carpet.)
For myself, the issues I explore no longer hold such significance. I have left the community and have very little interest in returning to it. But I want you all to hear it because it's about you. You are the ones who are causing all these problems. You are the ones that are forcing scores of youth to grow up unhappy and miserable, feeling they are worthless. You're the ones that believe that your lifestyle is the path to the most happy and fulfilled life that a person can wish for. And you need to hear just how wrong you really are. Judaism might indeed be beautiful, but what you're giving us is damn ugly. It isn't fulfilling, it isn't enjoyable, and it sure isn't something we're going to put up with when we finally have an opportunity to escape it. It isn't the outside world, or the Internet, or movies, or striped shirts, or chalav stam, or Rav Kook, that make us want to get out. It's you. You need to hear that loud and clear. You are what's making us hate Judaism.
Yes, I am biased, and subjective, and at times quite bitter. But I am a product of your society. And I am not an aberration. I'm not alone. There are plenty of people out there who have left just like I have. And there are plenty more who would love to get out if they could find a way. And I believe that there are many more that are not yet at that point, but who are on the inevitable path which will eventually bring them to that sad realization.
Ignore me if you wish. Marginalize me. Reject my ideas as the angry rantings of a cynical and irrational individual. I don't claim to always be entirely objective. But what I do say, absolutely and unequivocally, is that even if my views are subjective, they are worth listening to. Even if they are biased. Because your system is failing. Whether or not it's objectively the best, the most true, the most holy, the most whatever, on a subjective level, it's failing dismally. Objectively or subjectively, the fact of the matter is, it's not working for far too many. Emotions might not be rational, but they are real. And in the calculus of what shapes our commitments and attitudes about our religion, they are as important - if not more so - than cold, hard logical arguments.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Subway Ticket Update
For all those that care to know, I got that annoying subway ticket dismissed. Since I let you view the ticket, I figured I should also let you view the dismissal.
Click for larger image.
Although I got what I wanted, the whole thing was totally not worth it. I had to wait around for almost 3 hours, and shlep down to Fulton St. in Brooklyn. The actual time spent talking to the clerk was maybe 5 minutes. It's most definitely not worth it for somone whose time is more valuable than mine. No doubt, the city takes that into account when handing out these tickets, figuring that most people won't bother disputing them, so why not just freely hand 'em out. Oh well, what the hell, it was a learning experience.
Chag Sameach.
Click for larger image.
Although I got what I wanted, the whole thing was totally not worth it. I had to wait around for almost 3 hours, and shlep down to Fulton St. in Brooklyn. The actual time spent talking to the clerk was maybe 5 minutes. It's most definitely not worth it for somone whose time is more valuable than mine. No doubt, the city takes that into account when handing out these tickets, figuring that most people won't bother disputing them, so why not just freely hand 'em out. Oh well, what the hell, it was a learning experience.
Chag Sameach.
Friday, March 24, 2006
The One True Derech
Recently, on Godol Hador's blog, GH reposted one of my comments as a "guest post". Well, I figure that if he can recycle one of my long-winded rants as a featured blog post, then I can too. So, here it is for your viewing pleasure. My comment there was prompted by GH's post about how so many skeptics are ex-chareidim, and how often these people are a result of the black and white nature of the chareidi mindset. (I've actually written quite a bit about the Black and White Principle (as I like to call it) and his illustration is just one more manifestation of what I've long known to be a sad reality. Link, link, link.) To better understand the context of my post, I suggest you read his original blog posting. What follows below are my thoughts, slightly emended from my original words:
While I don't disagree with GH's general idea as it applies to many people from that society, I'd like to expand on the point in a subtle way. For myself, my right-wing ultra-orthodox background did not cause me difficulty in the way that he describes specifically. For example, (back when I cared more about halacha and torah) when I was first exposed to it, I didn't find it problematic to believe in a billion year old universe and still consider other parts of mesorah well founded. The same with ideas like considering the flood allegorical, and evolution. True, it did adversely affect my overall trust in the veracity of the system, but those revelations did not cause the entire structure to immediately collapse in the way he describes.
However, the much more direct impact of the black and white mode of thinking is that I can not bring myself to seriously accept non-chareidi expressions of Judaism as truly legitimate and authentic. That's how they really screwed me over. The truth is that Modern Orthodoxy actually appeals to me in many ways, and I'd probably be ok living that lifestyle and adopting that approach to viewing the world, and viewing Judaism (hell, actually, I was ok doing that for almost 3 years). However, throughout it all, as much as I admire it and consider it to be a better approach to Judaism than the chareidi one, I can't help feel the persistent tug of my past, reminding me that it is not "the truth"; that it's not the right way to be living as a religious Jew. There is a place inside my heart that can not stop viewing Modern Orthodoxy as a compromise, a corruption, a feeble and inadequate substitute for the supposedly real and proper way to be a religious Jew. This, despite the fact that intellectually I'm more than convinced of it's merits (while also remaining well aware of its failings).
This dismal way of thinking accounts for why every time GH presents an approach that reflects some more moderate, reasoned view of Judaism, I typically react with, "Well, that's not how Orthodox Judaism really is." Because, as much as I like what he's saying (some of the time), I still can't help but view his idea as an illegitimate form of OJ. To my twisted mind, true OJ would never subscribe to such a view.
Similarly, in the opposite vein, it's the hold this idea has on my mind which explains why I particularly enjoy comments from people like Lakewood Yid (one of the regular commenter's at GH) and his ilk (here's an example). Lakewood Yid is a proud member of that society which I was once a part of and which I believed so strongly to be the true heirs to what Torah living and thinking meant. He truly is an embodiment of that persona. When he expresses his simplistic and childish ideas about Judaism, Torah, and the world, and reminds us that he is merely articulating the accepted views of his leaders and his community it helps undermine that fictitious notion that they are in any way a genuine expression of any Divine truth. Seeing that so called "Torah True Judaism" in all it's glaring imbecility is the most effective remedy for what afflicts my mind.
How did this notion come to have such an extreme grip on my psyche? It's hold was formed over many years of repeatedly being taught a fundamental precept of chareidi ideology, spelled out in unambiguous, black and white terms: "Our way (however you want to call it - the life of a chareidi, yeshivish, ben torah person) is the only truly proper way to live as a frum Jew. Everything else, no matter what it is, no matter what they call themselves - Modern Orthodoxy, Zionist Orthodoxy, Torah U'Mada, Torah im Derech Eretz, cultural Judaism, Conservative, Reform, whatever, it's all just a sad and distorted misrepresentation of how God really wants Jews to live - as proper, gemara learning, black hat wearing, kollel studying, da'as torah believing, gadol trusting, chumra seeking, gender separating, badatz eating, college avoiding, Degel voting, chareidi Jews. That's what being a Jew is really about!"
That is what they told me was the way to be a proper Jew. I believed them for many years. I even heeded their advice (to some extent) for a long time, but now, after many years, I have come to know myself that I can not live (nor believe) as a chareidi Jew. One would then think, I should become MO. That would work for me. I agree, it would seem to be a good match (to a certain degree). Yet, because in my mind, I still retain that belief that "Chareidism is the only truly proper way to live as a Jew", I can not adopt such a lifestyle. It appeals to me, yet I can not bring myself to genuinely embrace it. My educators have successfully turned me off to any forms of Judaism which are not theirs, and theirs is altogether objectionable on so many levels. As I see it, I am left with only one course of action in this regard: to completely leave behind the religious life.
This is how chareidi black and white thinking has affected me, how it has turned me off totally. (Well, there are more ways, but this is one very prominent way.) Maybe one day, some time far in the future, when I can expunge from my heart the insidious notion that "Chareidism is the only truly proper way to live as a Jew", and I can bring myself to accept the validity of other forms of Judaism, I may, in some way, be able to assume the lifestyle of a religious Jew once again.
While I don't disagree with GH's general idea as it applies to many people from that society, I'd like to expand on the point in a subtle way. For myself, my right-wing ultra-orthodox background did not cause me difficulty in the way that he describes specifically. For example, (back when I cared more about halacha and torah) when I was first exposed to it, I didn't find it problematic to believe in a billion year old universe and still consider other parts of mesorah well founded. The same with ideas like considering the flood allegorical, and evolution. True, it did adversely affect my overall trust in the veracity of the system, but those revelations did not cause the entire structure to immediately collapse in the way he describes.
However, the much more direct impact of the black and white mode of thinking is that I can not bring myself to seriously accept non-chareidi expressions of Judaism as truly legitimate and authentic. That's how they really screwed me over. The truth is that Modern Orthodoxy actually appeals to me in many ways, and I'd probably be ok living that lifestyle and adopting that approach to viewing the world, and viewing Judaism (hell, actually, I was ok doing that for almost 3 years). However, throughout it all, as much as I admire it and consider it to be a better approach to Judaism than the chareidi one, I can't help feel the persistent tug of my past, reminding me that it is not "the truth"; that it's not the right way to be living as a religious Jew. There is a place inside my heart that can not stop viewing Modern Orthodoxy as a compromise, a corruption, a feeble and inadequate substitute for the supposedly real and proper way to be a religious Jew. This, despite the fact that intellectually I'm more than convinced of it's merits (while also remaining well aware of its failings).
This dismal way of thinking accounts for why every time GH presents an approach that reflects some more moderate, reasoned view of Judaism, I typically react with, "Well, that's not how Orthodox Judaism really is." Because, as much as I like what he's saying (some of the time), I still can't help but view his idea as an illegitimate form of OJ. To my twisted mind, true OJ would never subscribe to such a view.
Similarly, in the opposite vein, it's the hold this idea has on my mind which explains why I particularly enjoy comments from people like Lakewood Yid (one of the regular commenter's at GH) and his ilk (here's an example). Lakewood Yid is a proud member of that society which I was once a part of and which I believed so strongly to be the true heirs to what Torah living and thinking meant. He truly is an embodiment of that persona. When he expresses his simplistic and childish ideas about Judaism, Torah, and the world, and reminds us that he is merely articulating the accepted views of his leaders and his community it helps undermine that fictitious notion that they are in any way a genuine expression of any Divine truth. Seeing that so called "Torah True Judaism" in all it's glaring imbecility is the most effective remedy for what afflicts my mind.
How did this notion come to have such an extreme grip on my psyche? It's hold was formed over many years of repeatedly being taught a fundamental precept of chareidi ideology, spelled out in unambiguous, black and white terms: "Our way (however you want to call it - the life of a chareidi, yeshivish, ben torah person) is the only truly proper way to live as a frum Jew. Everything else, no matter what it is, no matter what they call themselves - Modern Orthodoxy, Zionist Orthodoxy, Torah U'Mada, Torah im Derech Eretz, cultural Judaism, Conservative, Reform, whatever, it's all just a sad and distorted misrepresentation of how God really wants Jews to live - as proper, gemara learning, black hat wearing, kollel studying, da'as torah believing, gadol trusting, chumra seeking, gender separating, badatz eating, college avoiding, Degel voting, chareidi Jews. That's what being a Jew is really about!"
That is what they told me was the way to be a proper Jew. I believed them for many years. I even heeded their advice (to some extent) for a long time, but now, after many years, I have come to know myself that I can not live (nor believe) as a chareidi Jew. One would then think, I should become MO. That would work for me. I agree, it would seem to be a good match (to a certain degree). Yet, because in my mind, I still retain that belief that "Chareidism is the only truly proper way to live as a Jew", I can not adopt such a lifestyle. It appeals to me, yet I can not bring myself to genuinely embrace it. My educators have successfully turned me off to any forms of Judaism which are not theirs, and theirs is altogether objectionable on so many levels. As I see it, I am left with only one course of action in this regard: to completely leave behind the religious life.
This is how chareidi black and white thinking has affected me, how it has turned me off totally. (Well, there are more ways, but this is one very prominent way.) Maybe one day, some time far in the future, when I can expunge from my heart the insidious notion that "Chareidism is the only truly proper way to live as a Jew", and I can bring myself to accept the validity of other forms of Judaism, I may, in some way, be able to assume the lifestyle of a religious Jew once again.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
My Rude Awakening
When I was in high school, I had a rebbe (actually had a few who did this) who would fine the students when they came late to shachris davening (the morning prayer services). 10 minutes late was a 50 cent charge, 20 minutes or more, $1. I suppose that for many students it was an effective deterrent, but many others felt it was a small price to pay to be able to spend a few more minutes under the precious warmth of the blankets, and they willingly ponied up the cash each morning they had overslept. In any case, at that age, we all got our allowances from our parents, so any k'nas (as the fine was called) really was affecting our dear patrons more than ourselves.
That took place in the closed and controlled universe of the yeshiva, where the rabbeim are the supreme rulers who can make up the rules and penalties of their world as they see fit, but I imagine that if our religious authorities would be able to impose penalties on any and all halachic infractions or violations of their religious standards, they would be more than happy to do so. Skipped bentching? $5 fine! Skirt's not long enough? $50! Caught eyeing that cutie from down the block? $100! Eating at an establishment without the proper kashrut certification? $100! Not wearing your hat and jacket when we say you should? $20! (I actually got reprimanded in high school for this - someone had spotted me walking down the street without my H&J, and reported it to my rabbi.)
The truth is that in many religious people's minds, such a system is actually already in place. Many people believe that in addition to the day-to-day affairs of maintaining the universe, one of God's lesser known duties is that of divine scorekeeper. He is closely monitoring every detail of our lives, irrespective of how mundane any detail may seem (which hand did I hold the washing cup in?), and dutifully recording our numerous transgressions, which when we arrive at the pearly gates for our final reckoning, he will hold us accountable for. For those who subscribe to such a view, enforcing a penalty for any breaches of halachic protocol, however minor, is merely an expression of the Divine will, and an entirely appropriate one at that.
Needless to say, I'm quite relieved that I don't live in such a society. In the world I live in, there are rules that must be followed, but these laws are usually of a different sort, and punishments for misconduct are usually only applied when the infraction is of a certain severity. Or so I thought. Last night I was introduced to what life is like when authorities have the power to penalize people for minor and trivial things, far beyond the significance of the offense.
It was late, around 1:30 AM. I was on my way home, taking the subway back from the city. As it usually is at that hour, the subway car was mostly empty, so I grabbed the corner seat, bundled myself up in my coat, and closed my eyes to try to catch a few zzz's. Somewhere along the ride, after I find myself repeatedly tipping over into the adjoining seat, I turn myself sideways, and lift my feet up onto the seat to try to get more comfortable. I'm squished into two seats like a contortionist, but it works. I doze off again.
All of a sudden, I hear a voice nearby. "Sir, can you please come with me?"
Huh? I open my eyes, and see a policeman standing over me. He repeats his demand. "Sir, can you please step out of the train car?"
What the hell is going on? I figure there's some security issue or something going on, so I get up, try to shake off the drowsiness, and step off the train.
"What's the matter, Officer?", I inquire.
"Sir, your feet were up on the bench. You were taking up two seats. That's a violation of subway regulations."
I look at him in amazement. This has got to be some sort of joke. "You're kidding, right? The car is three quarters empty. There's tons of empty seats! I wasn't preventing anyone from sitting down!"
"Sir, that doesn't matter," he insists gravely. "Now, have you ever been arrested?"
Arrested?! Is this guy serious? After assuring him of my pristine record, he asks for identification. I fish out my wallet and give him my drivers license. He hands me a subway flyer with a bunch of rules and regulations and asks me to sit down and read it while he contacts the station to check my ID and record.
While waiting for the station manager to report back to him, he (and another officer who pulled out somebody else) ask us a bunch of questions: Where do you live? Where are you coming from? How do you spell your name? My fellow offender and I look at each other in stunned bewilderment, amazed this is actually happening. Are they actually interrogating us as if we were suspected criminals because we had our feet on a bench?! It was just too outrageous!
Finally, the report comes back from the police station that everything checks out. Then he turns to me, and says in all seriousness, "Ok, now I'm going to have to write you out a ticket. "
Ok, now this joke has gone just a little too far, don't you think? I get that you want people to not dirty up the seats or cause any disruption of any sort, or whatever reason you may have for having such a rule. Ok, I can understand that. So you inconvenience me a bit, intimidate me a bit more, make me regret that I did such a terrible thing, and now I promise never to do it again.
But you're actually going to give me a ticket?!!!
I was just stunned. This whole experience was just surreal. He finishes writing it up, hands me the ticket for $50 and explains that I need to call a number on the back and I'll get details for how to pay it. He then wishes me a good night and goes along his merry way.
It was all just so preposterous I wasn't sure it had actually happened. But it did. I was holding a ticket in my hand proving it.
The entire ordeal was not all that unpleasant. The officers were courteous, although a bit too serious about the whole thing, but even still it was a very awful feeling that I had throughout it all. I felt like I was being treated like a criminal. What did I do to deserve that? I suppose I should be thankful they didn't frisk me and ask to search my bag. It would be one thing to just slap me with a fine, but to make us undergo that questioning was an entirely different experience. Because it was 1:30 AM, the area was deserted, but if it had occurred during normal hours, it would have been most humiliating. I really don't see the justification for such an approach. It did occur to me that this must be what many Arabs feel like in Israel when they are stopped randomly on the street for no other reason than the fact that they appear Arab, and are then forced to undergo an impromptu interrogation from the police. (Not that I think the two situations are the same. But the feeling of resentment it engenders is probably not at all dissimilar.) More significantly, it made me realize how bad my life could really be if the authorities were able to penalize me for every little thing in my life that I've ever been told not to do (or to do). Wouldn't those rabbis be thrilled? I'm sure my mother would've loved it if back in the day she had had a way to enforce my bed being made, the dishes being washed, not letting my shoes be left in the living room, and being home by 11!
I sincerely hope this incident wasn't a sign of the new world order. If it is, we're all in big trouble. (Then again, that's what I was told in yeshiva would happen one day. Such a future is exactly what the world will be like when moshiach comes. I can't wait!)
------------
After researching it a bit online, I came up with some related articles on the issue, listed below for your perusal.
Mayor Turns New York Into the Forbidden Apple
(don't miss the story about the Israeli tourist)
Nickel-and-dimed on the IRT
Transit Authority eyes subway car-hopping fine
Gothamist: Subway House Rules
Official Transit Authority Rules Of Conduct
I'd thought I'd share with you what the ticket looks like. Below is a JPEG of my ticket, so you can see the details of my offense (click it for an enlarged version). Any lawyers want to take up my case and dispute the ticket for me?
Update: I went down to the Transit Court, disputed it, and got the ticket dismissed! See the dismissal here.
That took place in the closed and controlled universe of the yeshiva, where the rabbeim are the supreme rulers who can make up the rules and penalties of their world as they see fit, but I imagine that if our religious authorities would be able to impose penalties on any and all halachic infractions or violations of their religious standards, they would be more than happy to do so. Skipped bentching? $5 fine! Skirt's not long enough? $50! Caught eyeing that cutie from down the block? $100! Eating at an establishment without the proper kashrut certification? $100! Not wearing your hat and jacket when we say you should? $20! (I actually got reprimanded in high school for this - someone had spotted me walking down the street without my H&J, and reported it to my rabbi.)
The truth is that in many religious people's minds, such a system is actually already in place. Many people believe that in addition to the day-to-day affairs of maintaining the universe, one of God's lesser known duties is that of divine scorekeeper. He is closely monitoring every detail of our lives, irrespective of how mundane any detail may seem (which hand did I hold the washing cup in?), and dutifully recording our numerous transgressions, which when we arrive at the pearly gates for our final reckoning, he will hold us accountable for. For those who subscribe to such a view, enforcing a penalty for any breaches of halachic protocol, however minor, is merely an expression of the Divine will, and an entirely appropriate one at that.
Needless to say, I'm quite relieved that I don't live in such a society. In the world I live in, there are rules that must be followed, but these laws are usually of a different sort, and punishments for misconduct are usually only applied when the infraction is of a certain severity. Or so I thought. Last night I was introduced to what life is like when authorities have the power to penalize people for minor and trivial things, far beyond the significance of the offense.
It was late, around 1:30 AM. I was on my way home, taking the subway back from the city. As it usually is at that hour, the subway car was mostly empty, so I grabbed the corner seat, bundled myself up in my coat, and closed my eyes to try to catch a few zzz's. Somewhere along the ride, after I find myself repeatedly tipping over into the adjoining seat, I turn myself sideways, and lift my feet up onto the seat to try to get more comfortable. I'm squished into two seats like a contortionist, but it works. I doze off again.
All of a sudden, I hear a voice nearby. "Sir, can you please come with me?"
Huh? I open my eyes, and see a policeman standing over me. He repeats his demand. "Sir, can you please step out of the train car?"
What the hell is going on? I figure there's some security issue or something going on, so I get up, try to shake off the drowsiness, and step off the train.
"What's the matter, Officer?", I inquire.
"Sir, your feet were up on the bench. You were taking up two seats. That's a violation of subway regulations."
I look at him in amazement. This has got to be some sort of joke. "You're kidding, right? The car is three quarters empty. There's tons of empty seats! I wasn't preventing anyone from sitting down!"
"Sir, that doesn't matter," he insists gravely. "Now, have you ever been arrested?"
Arrested?! Is this guy serious? After assuring him of my pristine record, he asks for identification. I fish out my wallet and give him my drivers license. He hands me a subway flyer with a bunch of rules and regulations and asks me to sit down and read it while he contacts the station to check my ID and record.
While waiting for the station manager to report back to him, he (and another officer who pulled out somebody else) ask us a bunch of questions: Where do you live? Where are you coming from? How do you spell your name? My fellow offender and I look at each other in stunned bewilderment, amazed this is actually happening. Are they actually interrogating us as if we were suspected criminals because we had our feet on a bench?! It was just too outrageous!
Finally, the report comes back from the police station that everything checks out. Then he turns to me, and says in all seriousness, "Ok, now I'm going to have to write you out a ticket. "
Ok, now this joke has gone just a little too far, don't you think? I get that you want people to not dirty up the seats or cause any disruption of any sort, or whatever reason you may have for having such a rule. Ok, I can understand that. So you inconvenience me a bit, intimidate me a bit more, make me regret that I did such a terrible thing, and now I promise never to do it again.
But you're actually going to give me a ticket?!!!
I was just stunned. This whole experience was just surreal. He finishes writing it up, hands me the ticket for $50 and explains that I need to call a number on the back and I'll get details for how to pay it. He then wishes me a good night and goes along his merry way.
It was all just so preposterous I wasn't sure it had actually happened. But it did. I was holding a ticket in my hand proving it.
The entire ordeal was not all that unpleasant. The officers were courteous, although a bit too serious about the whole thing, but even still it was a very awful feeling that I had throughout it all. I felt like I was being treated like a criminal. What did I do to deserve that? I suppose I should be thankful they didn't frisk me and ask to search my bag. It would be one thing to just slap me with a fine, but to make us undergo that questioning was an entirely different experience. Because it was 1:30 AM, the area was deserted, but if it had occurred during normal hours, it would have been most humiliating. I really don't see the justification for such an approach. It did occur to me that this must be what many Arabs feel like in Israel when they are stopped randomly on the street for no other reason than the fact that they appear Arab, and are then forced to undergo an impromptu interrogation from the police. (Not that I think the two situations are the same. But the feeling of resentment it engenders is probably not at all dissimilar.) More significantly, it made me realize how bad my life could really be if the authorities were able to penalize me for every little thing in my life that I've ever been told not to do (or to do). Wouldn't those rabbis be thrilled? I'm sure my mother would've loved it if back in the day she had had a way to enforce my bed being made, the dishes being washed, not letting my shoes be left in the living room, and being home by 11!
I sincerely hope this incident wasn't a sign of the new world order. If it is, we're all in big trouble. (Then again, that's what I was told in yeshiva would happen one day. Such a future is exactly what the world will be like when moshiach comes. I can't wait!)
------------
After researching it a bit online, I came up with some related articles on the issue, listed below for your perusal.
Mayor Turns New York Into the Forbidden Apple
(don't miss the story about the Israeli tourist)
Nickel-and-dimed on the IRT
Transit Authority eyes subway car-hopping fine
Gothamist: Subway House Rules
Official Transit Authority Rules Of Conduct
I'd thought I'd share with you what the ticket looks like. Below is a JPEG of my ticket, so you can see the details of my offense (click it for an enlarged version). Any lawyers want to take up my case and dispute the ticket for me?
Update: I went down to the Transit Court, disputed it, and got the ticket dismissed! See the dismissal here.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Meeting Elijah
Like every other frum kid, I grew up hearing many stories about how Elijah the Prophet periodically comes down from Heaven to perform some important heavenly task, usually while in disguise as a poor beggar. It's not unlike all the magical stories of elves that make their brief appearances every so often to also do some mysterious job (like hiding socks).
Well, yesterday, I was in SOHO, making my way to the Apple Store to buy myself an iPod and I decided to make a quick detour at Starbucks. As I was waiting at the pick-up counter, I glanced around the store a bit checking out the customers, when I noticed that standing right behind me was someone who looked just like Elijah. He also looked a lot like a certain character from Lord Of The Rings. I turned to a fellow standing near me, to confirm if the mystery prophet was who I thought he was, and he nodded in agreement. It was him! Frodo Baggins! AKA Elijah Wood! Holding some wierd Santa lawn ornament (I think it was just like the the one from the french film Amelie). And the most amazing thing was what he was wearing on his head: He had on a classic yeshivish black hat. It was a bit out of date, with a small brim, and probably not a Borsalino, but if I recall correctly, I think my 3rd grade rebbe wore something just like it. He was also talking to an attractive Asian woman, which I do not recall my 3rd grade rebbe doing very often. I was really dying to go over to him and say something, but I so didn't want to be one of those annoying fans who harass actors all the time. Also, unfortunately, I couldn't recall his name at the time, so it would have been a bit awkward. Anyway, I'm not such a LOTR fan anyway, so what would I have said?
But doesn't New York rock?
(This useless (but 100% true) post was specially composed for all my readers that insist on me writing more frequently. I'll try to keep you happy, but I'll have to resort to filler every so often.)
Well, yesterday, I was in SOHO, making my way to the Apple Store to buy myself an iPod and I decided to make a quick detour at Starbucks. As I was waiting at the pick-up counter, I glanced around the store a bit checking out the customers, when I noticed that standing right behind me was someone who looked just like Elijah. He also looked a lot like a certain character from Lord Of The Rings. I turned to a fellow standing near me, to confirm if the mystery prophet was who I thought he was, and he nodded in agreement. It was him! Frodo Baggins! AKA Elijah Wood! Holding some wierd Santa lawn ornament (I think it was just like the the one from the french film Amelie). And the most amazing thing was what he was wearing on his head: He had on a classic yeshivish black hat. It was a bit out of date, with a small brim, and probably not a Borsalino, but if I recall correctly, I think my 3rd grade rebbe wore something just like it. He was also talking to an attractive Asian woman, which I do not recall my 3rd grade rebbe doing very often. I was really dying to go over to him and say something, but I so didn't want to be one of those annoying fans who harass actors all the time. Also, unfortunately, I couldn't recall his name at the time, so it would have been a bit awkward. Anyway, I'm not such a LOTR fan anyway, so what would I have said?
But doesn't New York rock?
(This useless (but 100% true) post was specially composed for all my readers that insist on me writing more frequently. I'll try to keep you happy, but I'll have to resort to filler every so often.)
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Ironies
A while ago I wrote about my dilemma regarding sharing the events and experiences of my life with my family. Not much has changed in that regard, and although I have dropped numerous hints, I haven't come out openly about anything too blatantly. At times, I think they kind of understand how I'm changing, but every once in a while someone will say something to me that indicates that they really have no inkling whatsoever of how far I am from where they believe me to be.* Despite my desire to be open and honest with them, I still feel that they prefer a state of plausible deniability, and therefore I've refrained from revealing any specific details about my secret (and oh, so sordid) life.
It occurred to me that the situation is pretty ironic in a way. In most (or many) situations where a child is drastically changing or behaving in a way that the rest of the family is disapproving of, one often hears the following lament from the parents: "I don't know what's happening to him. He doesn't talk to me at all. I don't know what's going on in his life. Every time I try to reach out to him, he just clams up and doesn't share anything. I wish he would just tell us a little bit what's going on."
However, in my situation it's the absolute opposite. I'm more than willing to share, to explain, to discuss (as evidenced by my discussions with Earnest Yeshiva Guy). But no one (ok, very few people) from my family is interested in hearing anything about my life. They prefer to remain in the dark, blissfully unaware of how I'm changing or why. Kind of funny, no?
Recently, I was talking to a close family friend who told me that one of my family members had called them up distraught, saying they were afraid I was really "going off", and wanted to know what to do about it. The family friend plainly told them there was nothing they really could do, except daven. "He's not a kid anymore. You can't change him. The only thing left for you to do is daven."
Putting aside the dubious efficacy of such a suggestion, what really boggles my mind is how the most obvious and simple course of action escapes them (both the relative and the advisor). It would seem to me that if you want to effect a change in someone's behavior, at the very least, the most basic thing you need to do is know why they have chosen their current route. You need to understand them. To see what's motivating them and effecting them to behave in the way they are. So if this person really wants to do something, why don't they start by taking the most simple and sensible step, and talk to me? To discover why I have chosen this path? I'll admit that I don't think they will achieve their desired goal, but it does seem to be the most appropriate tack to proceed with.
My poor family. I kind of feel sorry for them in a way. They want to help. But they just can't seem to allow themselves to.
----------------
* For example, my brother recently shared with me how he may shortly be joining a promising new kiruv program, and how excited he is about it, to be able to make such an important difference in people's lives. I was listening to him politely, nodding along, making the requisite complimentary remark, and all along thinking to myself, "Is this for real? Does he actually think I care for any of this? Doesn't he have any idea what I really think about the notion of a bunch of kollel drop-out's brainwashing kids into becoming frum?"
Evidently not. Now just keep nodding along. There you go... smile politely...
It occurred to me that the situation is pretty ironic in a way. In most (or many) situations where a child is drastically changing or behaving in a way that the rest of the family is disapproving of, one often hears the following lament from the parents: "I don't know what's happening to him. He doesn't talk to me at all. I don't know what's going on in his life. Every time I try to reach out to him, he just clams up and doesn't share anything. I wish he would just tell us a little bit what's going on."
However, in my situation it's the absolute opposite. I'm more than willing to share, to explain, to discuss (as evidenced by my discussions with Earnest Yeshiva Guy). But no one (ok, very few people) from my family is interested in hearing anything about my life. They prefer to remain in the dark, blissfully unaware of how I'm changing or why. Kind of funny, no?
Recently, I was talking to a close family friend who told me that one of my family members had called them up distraught, saying they were afraid I was really "going off", and wanted to know what to do about it. The family friend plainly told them there was nothing they really could do, except daven. "He's not a kid anymore. You can't change him. The only thing left for you to do is daven."
Putting aside the dubious efficacy of such a suggestion, what really boggles my mind is how the most obvious and simple course of action escapes them (both the relative and the advisor). It would seem to me that if you want to effect a change in someone's behavior, at the very least, the most basic thing you need to do is know why they have chosen their current route. You need to understand them. To see what's motivating them and effecting them to behave in the way they are. So if this person really wants to do something, why don't they start by taking the most simple and sensible step, and talk to me? To discover why I have chosen this path? I'll admit that I don't think they will achieve their desired goal, but it does seem to be the most appropriate tack to proceed with.
My poor family. I kind of feel sorry for them in a way. They want to help. But they just can't seem to allow themselves to.
----------------
* For example, my brother recently shared with me how he may shortly be joining a promising new kiruv program, and how excited he is about it, to be able to make such an important difference in people's lives. I was listening to him politely, nodding along, making the requisite complimentary remark, and all along thinking to myself, "Is this for real? Does he actually think I care for any of this? Doesn't he have any idea what I really think about the notion of a bunch of kollel drop-out's brainwashing kids into becoming frum?"
Evidently not. Now just keep nodding along. There you go... smile politely...
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Understanding Us - A New Model
Due to reading Off The Derech (OTD), and partly because of my general state of affairs, the issue of why a person leaves frumkeit has been on my mind quite a bit lately. I'm not very happy with the standard way people are thinking about the issue. The general approach which people take is that being religious is the status quo (in the current context), and something changes that. Something affects or influences the person to leave the religious path. In the frum world, the typical view of what that "something" is, is usually some sort of negative influence, e.g. the "outside world", a non-religious acquaintance, some sort of temptations, heretical ideas, weakness of character, etc. In her book, Faranak Margolese essentially agrees with this approach, but differs in what she considers the factors that move a person out of that world. She disagrees with the notion of it being outside factors that pull on a person, and instead points to factors within the frum world that push a person out, e.g. pressure to conform, rejection, stifling intellectual conditions, dysfunctional homes, conditional parental love, etc.
However, I think this approach is lacking in sufficiently understanding and analyzing the phenomena. I came to this conclusion as a result of my own experiences: Oftentimes, when I gave a person a reason for why I myself was becoming less and less religious, I was presented with a rebuttal of some kind. For every reason that I put forth, the person would be able to retort with some counter-example demonstrating how that explanation on it's own didn't justify my decision. Putting aside the fact that I know I have no obligation to explain myself to anyone, and that I'm entitled to make my own decisions regardless of if people are satisfied with my answers, it still bothered me that I couldn't properly make my case well enough. Was I really making a proper decision? I don't like feeling that I'm living my life irrationally or impulsively. The challenges got me thinking about the issue a lot more, and eventually, I realized that I had been looking at the matter all wrong. My detractors were actually right. From the traditional perspective of why a person leaves frumkeit (i.e. that something is causing them to leave the status quo) , all my reasons for abandoning Orthodoxy actually were insufficient. But after reexamining the issue and taking a closer look at my motivations, I discovered that (IMHO) that perspective is flawed. I understood this when I took a step back from where I am now, and instead of asking myself, "Why am I leaving?", I asked myself, "Why was I ever there?" And when I properly addressed that question, I realized that the reason I was leaving frumkeit was not because of issues that were driving me to leave, but rather, the reason I was leaving was because all the reasons that had compelled me to be (or to stay) frum in the first place no longer seemed as persuasive and convincing as they had before.
True, I had lots of reasons why I wanted to chuck it all. The intrusive halachic demands. The restrictive and stifling conformity. The overemphasis on torah learning. The obsessive concern about halachic minutia. The lack of any serious opportunities for those not wanting to be learners. The warped priorities and perspectives (see this post and my archives for a more comprehensive and detailed list). But when I took a closer look at my life, I had to admit to myself, none of this was really new. I always had to contend with these issues. (If anything, in my current lifestyle and society, I encounter hardly any of these negative aspects on a regular basis.) So if these issues weren't new, then what was the new ingredient in my life that was giving me that push to get out?
Like I said, I had all those hassles back when I was a fully participating, card-carrying member of the yeshiva world, but somehow back then I managed to tolerate it all. Not only did I tolerate it, but in many ways I even thrived on all the things that now are nuisances to me. This accepting attitude obviously stemmed from how I felt about it all, what I believed then, and how I viewed life, religion, halacha, myself, the world, etc. Looking back on it all from my current vantage point, I can clearly see that even though I might have had to put up with the same hassles that I do now (actually much more of them), the fact that I had certain countervailing positive motivations (and some not positive, but nonetheless forceful and compelling) allowed me to take all those negative aspects in stride, and they therefore did not affect me in the way they are now. (Additionally, my abysmal ignorance and lack of critical thinking skills created a foundation upon which to lay many of the ideas which I took for granted in that world. Sadly, I no longer have the luxury of naiveté.)
After understanding this about myself and my past, I came up with a new response for when people ask me about my religious transition. Now my reply is something along the lines of, "Why am I not religious? Because all the motivations and reasons I once had to keep me there no longer apply."
Essentially, what I'm getting at is that there is some sort of equilibrium that we all maintain within ourselves. We all have a multitude of factors that affect our feelings and our beliefs. In my case, back when I was younger and a bit more naïve, I believed in it all, in the rightness and importance and truths of the frum world, and that knowledge translated into a conviction that was able to withstand all the negativity that I had to endure. But I'm no longer convinced of all that the frum world is trying to sell me, and therefore my negative sentiments are not so easily addressed.
This is the critical difference in how I look at people "going off", as opposed to the way it's usually understood. In my model, there is no status quo that is affected by some new element (or bunch of elements) that suddenly enter into a persons life and affect them to change. There is however, always a constellation of factors that add up to one or another outcome in the person's mind (and heart), and as the constellation changes, so does the result. Even before any new, unexpected element comes into the persons life that may shift their attitude towards religion, there are already factors present that have contributed to the persons feelings and beliefs. New factors might well affect the outcome, but they need to be understood in the context of all that already exists there. Any new element is not just a negative value being applied to the sum total of the person's belief, but rather one more variable in the complex formula that already exists in the person's psyche.
Although this might seem to be only a subtle variation from how the matter is usually understood, it's an important distinction, because with this perspective, an observer that is trying to understand what caused an individual to leave Orthodoxy (or a person trying to understand themselves) can know not to look only at new factors that might have entered their lives in the recent past, but to also examine long held perspectives and beliefs and assess how they may have changed, which would consequently have affected the person's overall sentiments towards the matter.
I think this is also why I was so frustrated with Mrs. Margolese's OTD book. She lists many, many valid and legitimate factors that cause a person to go OTD, and brings examples to prove it, but like I wrote in my review, any knowledgeable person can probably come up with just as many examples to show how some specific issue isn't really a cause, and the approach she advocates (regarding that specific issue) shouldn't be advocated.
But if we apply my model to the issue, we see that all those issues she mentions - while no doubt contributing factors to any person's ultimate decision - are only part of the story, and need to be viewed in light of how they interact with all the other factors and beliefs that are already present within the individual. (To be fair, she does always maintain that it's never one thing that causes a person to go OTD, and that there's almost always a variety of contributing factors. She also does give credence to the idea of how feelings have developed even before the issue manifests itself, but I don't believe she is adopting the holistic approach that I'm advocating here.)
Once I had this new perspective of my situation, I started seeing how things were affecting me so much more clearly. When I honestly examined the true nature of my belief in frumkeit, and began to appreciate the myriad concepts, beliefs, fears, assumptions, trusts, and perspectives that my belief system rested upon, I became acutely aware every time I encountered something which threatened that framework. And every time the challenge was not met successfully, I felt another strut in the foundation of my belief system being violently kicked out. And with every strut that cracked, the staggering weight of all the negativity and doubt bore down even harder on my few remaining supports.
In fact, I think the analogy of supporting struts is apt for so many reasons. When I think about it, I visualize my years in yeshiva as a time when my rabbeim and society were putting up hundreds and hundreds of them, creating a powerful substructure to support my Judaism. Some of those supports were large, central, foundational pillars (like trusting in Gedolim and that everything in the torah is absolutely and literally true), and others were akin to a smaller reinforcement (like the notion that every aspect of chareidi society is rooted in the torah). Over the years, despite the increasing burden placed on them (my negative experiences), they withstood it all, and stood firm throughout. But at some point in my life, I started seeing things a bit differently, reading, being exposed to other approaches, thinking a bit more critically, and on occasion, a support would break. At first, it wasn't a problem. The structure still had more than enough reinforcement to keep it steady. And that rare breach was dealt with easily enough: I discussed the troubling issue with my rabbeim, they showed me the error of my ways, and the strut was back in place. But soon enough, the cracks were appearing more frequently, and not always were they able to be patched sufficiently. I was learning that things I had been taught were inaccurate. That fundamental beliefs were not universally agreed upon. That history was not as it had been presented to me. That all was not goodness and bliss in our community. That leaders were not as smart or as proper or as full of integrity as I thought. That keeping mitzvos isn't a panacea. That not everything that I was told was so terrible really was. That many frum concepts and behaviors were actually rooted in non-Jewish sources. That things didn't always add up the way they were supposed to (but thank God, the gematrias always did).
The structure was collapsing all over.
It has not collapsed entirely. It still stands to some degree. It isn't much recognizable from what it once was, most definitely not like it's original architects envisioned it, but I believe there are some sections still mostly intact. At this time, remnants of the original edifice can be clearly seen and identified, but I really don't know how much longer even those fragments will remain.
We'll see.
However, I think this approach is lacking in sufficiently understanding and analyzing the phenomena. I came to this conclusion as a result of my own experiences: Oftentimes, when I gave a person a reason for why I myself was becoming less and less religious, I was presented with a rebuttal of some kind. For every reason that I put forth, the person would be able to retort with some counter-example demonstrating how that explanation on it's own didn't justify my decision. Putting aside the fact that I know I have no obligation to explain myself to anyone, and that I'm entitled to make my own decisions regardless of if people are satisfied with my answers, it still bothered me that I couldn't properly make my case well enough. Was I really making a proper decision? I don't like feeling that I'm living my life irrationally or impulsively. The challenges got me thinking about the issue a lot more, and eventually, I realized that I had been looking at the matter all wrong. My detractors were actually right. From the traditional perspective of why a person leaves frumkeit (i.e. that something is causing them to leave the status quo) , all my reasons for abandoning Orthodoxy actually were insufficient. But after reexamining the issue and taking a closer look at my motivations, I discovered that (IMHO) that perspective is flawed. I understood this when I took a step back from where I am now, and instead of asking myself, "Why am I leaving?", I asked myself, "Why was I ever there?" And when I properly addressed that question, I realized that the reason I was leaving frumkeit was not because of issues that were driving me to leave, but rather, the reason I was leaving was because all the reasons that had compelled me to be (or to stay) frum in the first place no longer seemed as persuasive and convincing as they had before.
True, I had lots of reasons why I wanted to chuck it all. The intrusive halachic demands. The restrictive and stifling conformity. The overemphasis on torah learning. The obsessive concern about halachic minutia. The lack of any serious opportunities for those not wanting to be learners. The warped priorities and perspectives (see this post and my archives for a more comprehensive and detailed list). But when I took a closer look at my life, I had to admit to myself, none of this was really new. I always had to contend with these issues. (If anything, in my current lifestyle and society, I encounter hardly any of these negative aspects on a regular basis.) So if these issues weren't new, then what was the new ingredient in my life that was giving me that push to get out?
Like I said, I had all those hassles back when I was a fully participating, card-carrying member of the yeshiva world, but somehow back then I managed to tolerate it all. Not only did I tolerate it, but in many ways I even thrived on all the things that now are nuisances to me. This accepting attitude obviously stemmed from how I felt about it all, what I believed then, and how I viewed life, religion, halacha, myself, the world, etc. Looking back on it all from my current vantage point, I can clearly see that even though I might have had to put up with the same hassles that I do now (actually much more of them), the fact that I had certain countervailing positive motivations (and some not positive, but nonetheless forceful and compelling) allowed me to take all those negative aspects in stride, and they therefore did not affect me in the way they are now. (Additionally, my abysmal ignorance and lack of critical thinking skills created a foundation upon which to lay many of the ideas which I took for granted in that world. Sadly, I no longer have the luxury of naiveté.)
After understanding this about myself and my past, I came up with a new response for when people ask me about my religious transition. Now my reply is something along the lines of, "Why am I not religious? Because all the motivations and reasons I once had to keep me there no longer apply."
Essentially, what I'm getting at is that there is some sort of equilibrium that we all maintain within ourselves. We all have a multitude of factors that affect our feelings and our beliefs. In my case, back when I was younger and a bit more naïve, I believed in it all, in the rightness and importance and truths of the frum world, and that knowledge translated into a conviction that was able to withstand all the negativity that I had to endure. But I'm no longer convinced of all that the frum world is trying to sell me, and therefore my negative sentiments are not so easily addressed.
This is the critical difference in how I look at people "going off", as opposed to the way it's usually understood. In my model, there is no status quo that is affected by some new element (or bunch of elements) that suddenly enter into a persons life and affect them to change. There is however, always a constellation of factors that add up to one or another outcome in the person's mind (and heart), and as the constellation changes, so does the result. Even before any new, unexpected element comes into the persons life that may shift their attitude towards religion, there are already factors present that have contributed to the persons feelings and beliefs. New factors might well affect the outcome, but they need to be understood in the context of all that already exists there. Any new element is not just a negative value being applied to the sum total of the person's belief, but rather one more variable in the complex formula that already exists in the person's psyche.
Although this might seem to be only a subtle variation from how the matter is usually understood, it's an important distinction, because with this perspective, an observer that is trying to understand what caused an individual to leave Orthodoxy (or a person trying to understand themselves) can know not to look only at new factors that might have entered their lives in the recent past, but to also examine long held perspectives and beliefs and assess how they may have changed, which would consequently have affected the person's overall sentiments towards the matter.
I think this is also why I was so frustrated with Mrs. Margolese's OTD book. She lists many, many valid and legitimate factors that cause a person to go OTD, and brings examples to prove it, but like I wrote in my review, any knowledgeable person can probably come up with just as many examples to show how some specific issue isn't really a cause, and the approach she advocates (regarding that specific issue) shouldn't be advocated.
But if we apply my model to the issue, we see that all those issues she mentions - while no doubt contributing factors to any person's ultimate decision - are only part of the story, and need to be viewed in light of how they interact with all the other factors and beliefs that are already present within the individual. (To be fair, she does always maintain that it's never one thing that causes a person to go OTD, and that there's almost always a variety of contributing factors. She also does give credence to the idea of how feelings have developed even before the issue manifests itself, but I don't believe she is adopting the holistic approach that I'm advocating here.)
Once I had this new perspective of my situation, I started seeing how things were affecting me so much more clearly. When I honestly examined the true nature of my belief in frumkeit, and began to appreciate the myriad concepts, beliefs, fears, assumptions, trusts, and perspectives that my belief system rested upon, I became acutely aware every time I encountered something which threatened that framework. And every time the challenge was not met successfully, I felt another strut in the foundation of my belief system being violently kicked out. And with every strut that cracked, the staggering weight of all the negativity and doubt bore down even harder on my few remaining supports.
In fact, I think the analogy of supporting struts is apt for so many reasons. When I think about it, I visualize my years in yeshiva as a time when my rabbeim and society were putting up hundreds and hundreds of them, creating a powerful substructure to support my Judaism. Some of those supports were large, central, foundational pillars (like trusting in Gedolim and that everything in the torah is absolutely and literally true), and others were akin to a smaller reinforcement (like the notion that every aspect of chareidi society is rooted in the torah). Over the years, despite the increasing burden placed on them (my negative experiences), they withstood it all, and stood firm throughout. But at some point in my life, I started seeing things a bit differently, reading, being exposed to other approaches, thinking a bit more critically, and on occasion, a support would break. At first, it wasn't a problem. The structure still had more than enough reinforcement to keep it steady. And that rare breach was dealt with easily enough: I discussed the troubling issue with my rabbeim, they showed me the error of my ways, and the strut was back in place. But soon enough, the cracks were appearing more frequently, and not always were they able to be patched sufficiently. I was learning that things I had been taught were inaccurate. That fundamental beliefs were not universally agreed upon. That history was not as it had been presented to me. That all was not goodness and bliss in our community. That leaders were not as smart or as proper or as full of integrity as I thought. That keeping mitzvos isn't a panacea. That not everything that I was told was so terrible really was. That many frum concepts and behaviors were actually rooted in non-Jewish sources. That things didn't always add up the way they were supposed to (but thank God, the gematrias always did).
The structure was collapsing all over.
It has not collapsed entirely. It still stands to some degree. It isn't much recognizable from what it once was, most definitely not like it's original architects envisioned it, but I believe there are some sections still mostly intact. At this time, remnants of the original edifice can be clearly seen and identified, but I really don't know how much longer even those fragments will remain.
We'll see.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Book Review - Off The Derech
I just finished reading the new book, Off The Derech – Why Observant Jews Leave Judaism. Written by Faranak Margolese and published by Devorah Publishing. I had a lot of thoughts and comments on it that I wanted to share, but I neglected to take proper notes as I was reading it, so I don’t have it all organized properly and prepared to present coherently. For now, I’ll just say that I agree with almost all the main points of the author, but at the same time I was very disappointed in how she presented her positions. In my opinion, she was nowhere nearly as persuasive as she should have been. While I almost always found myself agreeing with her points, it bothered me that almost all her arguments were only supported by either anecdotal evidence, cute chassidish-like vertlach, random “chazal’s”, or quotes from rabbis, mechanchim and frum therapists. Even her survey, which while interesting and revealing, she admits is unscientific.
Edit: I don't mean to say that her positions really don't have any substantial support. I believe they do. She says that she has interviewed hundreds of people who have "gone off", and been researching the subject for five years, so that is definitely more than anecdotal. What I meant is that when she writes about the issues and presents her position on any particular factor, she usually doesn't bring any sort of verifiable statistics or recorded reports to back up what she's saying. I trust that she has the data and support for her views, but for the most part it's absent from her presentation. I understand that a complex sociological study like this might be difficult to break down into clear-cut factoids and measurable results, but overall, as I was reading through it, all the quotes, cute divrei torah, and brief recollections actually made me feel like I was reading some advice column from a d'var torah sheet or a chareidi periodical. It didn't feel very academic, scientific or professional.
For those who don’t know, the book is an examination of the trend of people who leave the Orthodox world and pursue a life uncommitted to halacha. (Going “off the derech” is a euphemism for those who have stepped off the path of religious life.) She takes a close look at the issue, exploring it from many angles, detailing countless motivators for the behavior, and clearly outlining the distinct roles various factors (family, education, community, role models, emotions, intellectual difficulties, etc.) have in influencing a person to consider leaving the religious lifestyle.
Unsurprisingly, she advocates an approach of being more tolerant, open, flexible, accepting, respectful, and more positive towards the whole religious experience. She demonstrates the danger of being too restrictive and demanding. She tries to show the importance of allowing a sincere religious motivation to develop rather than forcing Judaism on its adherents. There’s a lot of good stuff in the book, and it’s refreshing to hear someone point out some of the problems that are prevalent in Orthodox societies nowadays. For every issue she examines, she brings numerous stories and quotes to support her views.
However, despite the fact that I’m in almost total agreement with her overall approach, ultimately I was unimpressed with her presentation. In my opinion, although critical of them, she doesn’t convincingly show how truly damaging and destructive so many of the views and attitudes that are common and accepted in today’s religious society really are. Additionally, too often it seems that she’s holding back. At times, the criticism is tempered by sympathetic rationalizations meant to excuse the very problems she disapproves of. On other occasions, she follows up her position with an almost apologetic defense of the more restrictive approach. While I understand her ambivalence to criticize a behavior that may be common among many respected torah figures and religious communities, if she really does feel it’s wrong she should just say it like it is and not soften her criticisms with contrite apologetics.
Overall, I’d say the book is important in how it highlights many damaging attitudes, behaviors, and trends in frum society. But I feel that most people in today’s age probably know about these issues already. So either you agree that the problems are serious, and you don’t need a book like this to tell you what you already know. Or you've heard her arguments in the past, but you also know the counterarguments to them and you've decided to settle on the more restrictive approach to being religious which she is against. Most people who appreciate the book probably already agree with most of her arguments, so for them the book is just a case of preaching to the converted. And for the crowd who disagrees with her, well, they’ll probably just nod along, admitting that what she points out are indeed serious problems, but that they aren’t really relevant to their own situation, and anyway there are also potential risks in her approach and they have rabbonim and chazal’s to back up their approach just like she does. In other words, it won't have any affect on these people whatsoever! After all, isn’t that the reaction people have been having until now? The book is chock full of quotes from well known educators, rabbis and mental health professionals who have been saying these things for ages (much of her material is excerpts from pieces published in chareidi periodicals and books). And no one’s taken their message seriously up until now. So why expect anything different from this latest effort? Although I sincerely hope I’m wrong, I highly doubt too many people are going to dramatically change their approach to chinuch after reading this book.
Some of the positives:
The debate is an old one. And everyone has chosen a side by now. We don’t need a book to simply tell us the benefits of any one perspective. We need a book that can clearly and forcibly show us all how absolutely vital this approach is. And how fundamentally flawed and dangerous the other approach is. Unfortunately, as worthwhile as I feel it is, I don’t think this book is that.
Edit: I don't mean to say that her positions really don't have any substantial support. I believe they do. She says that she has interviewed hundreds of people who have "gone off", and been researching the subject for five years, so that is definitely more than anecdotal. What I meant is that when she writes about the issues and presents her position on any particular factor, she usually doesn't bring any sort of verifiable statistics or recorded reports to back up what she's saying. I trust that she has the data and support for her views, but for the most part it's absent from her presentation. I understand that a complex sociological study like this might be difficult to break down into clear-cut factoids and measurable results, but overall, as I was reading through it, all the quotes, cute divrei torah, and brief recollections actually made me feel like I was reading some advice column from a d'var torah sheet or a chareidi periodical. It didn't feel very academic, scientific or professional.
For those who don’t know, the book is an examination of the trend of people who leave the Orthodox world and pursue a life uncommitted to halacha. (Going “off the derech” is a euphemism for those who have stepped off the path of religious life.) She takes a close look at the issue, exploring it from many angles, detailing countless motivators for the behavior, and clearly outlining the distinct roles various factors (family, education, community, role models, emotions, intellectual difficulties, etc.) have in influencing a person to consider leaving the religious lifestyle.
Unsurprisingly, she advocates an approach of being more tolerant, open, flexible, accepting, respectful, and more positive towards the whole religious experience. She demonstrates the danger of being too restrictive and demanding. She tries to show the importance of allowing a sincere religious motivation to develop rather than forcing Judaism on its adherents. There’s a lot of good stuff in the book, and it’s refreshing to hear someone point out some of the problems that are prevalent in Orthodox societies nowadays. For every issue she examines, she brings numerous stories and quotes to support her views.
However, despite the fact that I’m in almost total agreement with her overall approach, ultimately I was unimpressed with her presentation. In my opinion, although critical of them, she doesn’t convincingly show how truly damaging and destructive so many of the views and attitudes that are common and accepted in today’s religious society really are. Additionally, too often it seems that she’s holding back. At times, the criticism is tempered by sympathetic rationalizations meant to excuse the very problems she disapproves of. On other occasions, she follows up her position with an almost apologetic defense of the more restrictive approach. While I understand her ambivalence to criticize a behavior that may be common among many respected torah figures and religious communities, if she really does feel it’s wrong she should just say it like it is and not soften her criticisms with contrite apologetics.
Overall, I’d say the book is important in how it highlights many damaging attitudes, behaviors, and trends in frum society. But I feel that most people in today’s age probably know about these issues already. So either you agree that the problems are serious, and you don’t need a book like this to tell you what you already know. Or you've heard her arguments in the past, but you also know the counterarguments to them and you've decided to settle on the more restrictive approach to being religious which she is against. Most people who appreciate the book probably already agree with most of her arguments, so for them the book is just a case of preaching to the converted. And for the crowd who disagrees with her, well, they’ll probably just nod along, admitting that what she points out are indeed serious problems, but that they aren’t really relevant to their own situation, and anyway there are also potential risks in her approach and they have rabbonim and chazal’s to back up their approach just like she does. In other words, it won't have any affect on these people whatsoever! After all, isn’t that the reaction people have been having until now? The book is chock full of quotes from well known educators, rabbis and mental health professionals who have been saying these things for ages (much of her material is excerpts from pieces published in chareidi periodicals and books). And no one’s taken their message seriously up until now. So why expect anything different from this latest effort? Although I sincerely hope I’m wrong, I highly doubt too many people are going to dramatically change their approach to chinuch after reading this book.
Some of the positives:
- She unabashedly and courageously places the blame for the problem squarely at the foot of the Jewish community, refusing to buy into the oft-heard excuses and accusations that are trotted out about people who go off the derech.
- She does a masterful job of outlining the different issues that may affect a person towards leaving religiosity, how they interact, and how they build upon one another.
- She draws upon a varied and eclectic range of religious personalities for supporting her positions. There are quotes from Rabbi Berel Wein, Rabbi Adin Steinzaltz, Dennis Prager, Rabbi Joseph Telushkin, Rabbi Natan L. Cordozo, Rabbi Shmuely Boteach, Rabbi Shlomo Wolbe, Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm, Rav A. Y. Kook, The Chazon Ish, various roshei yeshiva and Bais Yakov principals, directors of programs for at-risk kids (for example the founders of Priority One, Project Rejewvenation, Project Chazon, Ohel, Project YES, etc.), and various well known frum therapists.
- Many of the problems she focuses on are things that I have been saying on this blog for months, e.g. emotional factors play a more primary role in a person’s attitude towards frumkeit than intellectual ones, that truth is not enough to motivate someone to be frum, the importance of relevance, how damaging negative religious experiences can be to a person’s growth, the affect it has on the person when the trust in the system is broken, etc. Apparently, I'm onto something.
- It reads like a frummie book. I guess that isn’t really such a bad thing, as it is after all marketed to the frum crowd, but I found it very annoying.
- It’s nice that she’s got so many rabbis backing her up, but the fact that she doesn’t usually have anything more substantial (How about some documented studies or hard data?) really isn’t a good thing. While I agree with most of what she’s saying, I also know that for every rabbi who supports her approach of being more accepting, tolerant, etc. I can find two others who say we have to tighten the reigns to protect other kids. For every shtickel torah about being more understanding and accepting I can bring you just as many to show you how important it is to be demanding and restrictive. It’s all nice what she’s saying, but it’s just not a very solid or persuasive argument for one who knows both sides of the debate.
- Many of the stories that she brings to support her positions – while very illustrative of problems in society - are quite ambiguous and do not necessarily support the specific point she’s trying to make. For example: A rosh yeshiva told a prospective student, “Real bochurim don’t read newspapers.” In my opinion, this could demonstrate any of a bunch of problematic attitudes (all of which she touches on at various points in the book): the trend towards a very narrow definition of orthodoxy, dismissiveness and rejection of those not ascribing to your view, pressure to conform, etc. She uses the story to illustrate negative attitudes towards the outside world. I suppose it could be seen that way, but it does seem to be a bit of a stretch. (Once again, my nitpicking is not to undermine her point. I agree the attitude is potentially harmful, but the story doesn’t support it very strongly, and therefore using it as a support only weakens her argument.)
- She contradicts herself at times. I even found that some of the people she quotes aren't consistent, neither with each other, or even with some of their other quotes she uses in other places. (Which kind of proves my point about the ease of being able to find a rabbi who maintains an opposing view.) She even contradicted something she told me in person (I met her over sukkot) with what she explicitly wrote in the book.
- People aren’t leaving because of the pull of the outside world. They’re leaving because they want to get away from the frum one.
- The wiles of the yetzer hara doesn’t make a person go off the derech. They may make a person stumble, but to completely leave, at root there must be much more serious problem which is undoubtedly a result of bigger things than the occasional (or even frequent) sin.
- While it’s true that religious life can be difficult and challenging, and kids have to absorb that lesson, that kind of lesson has to be the exception, not the rule.
- To truly last in the way it's supposed to be, a person's Judaism must be positive, meaningful, and motivated by a sincere desire to live that life.
The debate is an old one. And everyone has chosen a side by now. We don’t need a book to simply tell us the benefits of any one perspective. We need a book that can clearly and forcibly show us all how absolutely vital this approach is. And how fundamentally flawed and dangerous the other approach is. Unfortunately, as worthwhile as I feel it is, I don’t think this book is that.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Four of Seven
The Wolf tagged me with the silly Seven Meme, so I guess I'll play along. Hope it's ok that I got creative and made up a few of my own categories.
7 Things I Can Do:
PS - Here's the traceroute for the meme (thanks to Steg for tracking the first generations):
Karl » Jen » Z » Mirty » Rav Fleischmann » Steg » Orthomom » Krum » Brooklyn Wolf » Me
7 Things I Can Do:
- At least 3 times a day show how this occurrence or that experience is just like in some episode of Seinfeld or Friends.
- Make a mean potato kugel.
- Perform an impressive juggling-like routine involving 2 sets of nun-chucks and four blazing swinging balls of fire. (It's way cooler than juggling torches.)
- Pretend I know exactly what you're talking about when really I have no clue whatsoever.
- Take beautiful pictures.
- Understand women. Sometimes.
- Write half-decently.
- Understand the stock market, economics, or politics.
- Stay focused on my goals.
- Make music.
- Take notes well.
- Convince frum people that following halacha isn't the most important thing in the world.
- Live my life with a bit of self-discipline.
- Know what to say to people to make them feel better.
- The ability to see the sun rise over Jerusalem every morning.
- The ability to work in my pajamas.
- That my boss and I are good friends.
- That I am able to be paid for doing work that I enjoy immensely.
- That I still have a full head of hair.
- That all my material needs are pretty much met.
- That I am me.
- Rabbi Akiva
- Benjamin Franklin
- The Ba'al Shem Tov
- Leonardo da Vinci
- Rabbi Aryeh Levine
- FDR
- Andy Kaufman
PS - Here's the traceroute for the meme (thanks to Steg for tracking the first generations):
Karl » Jen » Z » Mirty » Rav Fleischmann » Steg » Orthomom » Krum » Brooklyn Wolf » Me
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Flashback
I'm not the same person I was a few years ago. Overall I'm grateful for that, but occasionally, it's a real shame. Because sometimes I hear or read something which I just wish I could have discovered back in the days when I was a trusting, innocent, da'as torah believing yeshiva bochur. Alas, those sweet and unspoiled times are no more. Yet it's just too interesting of an opportunity to pass up. So I'm going to attempt a bit of a time warp. I'm going to try to recapture that bygone era, to return to that pristine state of immaculate faith and imagine what would have gone through my head if the old Me had just read what I did. Here goes:
I just read this letter from R' Nosson Slifkin to R' Moshe Meiselman. I just don't know what to say! I'm angry, and in shock, and very, very upset! (The letter is a response to various objections and comments R' Meiselman made regarding R' Slifkin and the ideas expounded in his books.)
I have to admit that I'm not very knowledgeable in the overall issues or even the specific points that are mentioned in the letter, and so make no claim about the veracity of the overall dispute regarding Science vs. Torah (although I think you might be able to figure which side of the debate I'd side with). But putting all that aside, if R' Slifkin is being honest in his presentation of R' Meiselman's comments, (he does provide specific quotes from recorded sources, which would be pretty easy to verify, and which therefore cause me to believe that he's being truthful), R' Meiselman's assault on R' Slifkin is entirely inexcusable. Seeing how R' Meiselman unfairly disparaged him, distorted his words, lied outright, misrepresented his intentions, and was just overall deplorable in his treatment of R' Slifkin made me sick to my stomach. I felt betrayed and deceived. It was exactly the type of reaction which my inner apikores loves to shove right up into my face as he loudly proclaims, "You see! This is what roshei yeshiva are like!"
But I ask myself why this really matters. After all, to a frum Jew, someone who believes in the importance of halacha, it's irrelevant if even the most prominent gadol hador (which no one claims R' Meisleman is, but he is a well respected rosh yeshiva) was caught red-handed in a great juicy fib. Halacha is meant to be adhered to regardless of how other people behave. Yet for some reason the whole thing grates on me terribly. After pondering the matter for a few brief moments, I think I know why it's troubling me so much.
To so many of us whose knowledge of the deep philosophical and ideological truths of Judaism are quite deficient, the fact of the matter is that our commitment to Judaism is to a large part based on trust. Halacha isn't easy to keep, but we keep it because we know it's the right thing. But how do we know that? Most of us haven't really studied or investigated that claim with any real depth. Yet even while we are aware of our lack of solid intellectual grounding, we still trust that that the belief is true. But why? I think if we were to examine why most of us believe that many of our cherished ideas are true, we'll discover that it's simply because our rabbeim have told us that it is so. They've taught us, and explained to us, and instilled it within us, that this is the right path. And we trust these people. We trust them for all sorts of things, but we also most definitely trust them that they understand torah well, that they are fair minded, honest, and considerate. And that they know best. So even though we ourselves can't know for certain it's the right thing, we rest easy knowing that these great people, who are so much wiser and more knowledgeable than us, must surely have investigated the issues properly, deliberated carefully, and thoroughly considered all the factors before coming to the conclusion that our path is indeed the right one.
But when I see something like the above, when I see a person that is considered a talmid chacham, one who is supposedly fair-minded and reasonable, and who posseses much knowledgeable of torah, one who is looked up to and admired as a bearer of truth, displaying such an utterly reprehensible demonstration of prejudice and untrustworthiness, it shakes me to my very core. And it makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, the trust I put in my rabbis about the torah being right and proper might actually be mistaken too.
---
I just read this letter from R' Nosson Slifkin to R' Moshe Meiselman. I just don't know what to say! I'm angry, and in shock, and very, very upset! (The letter is a response to various objections and comments R' Meiselman made regarding R' Slifkin and the ideas expounded in his books.)
I have to admit that I'm not very knowledgeable in the overall issues or even the specific points that are mentioned in the letter, and so make no claim about the veracity of the overall dispute regarding Science vs. Torah (although I think you might be able to figure which side of the debate I'd side with). But putting all that aside, if R' Slifkin is being honest in his presentation of R' Meiselman's comments, (he does provide specific quotes from recorded sources, which would be pretty easy to verify, and which therefore cause me to believe that he's being truthful), R' Meiselman's assault on R' Slifkin is entirely inexcusable. Seeing how R' Meiselman unfairly disparaged him, distorted his words, lied outright, misrepresented his intentions, and was just overall deplorable in his treatment of R' Slifkin made me sick to my stomach. I felt betrayed and deceived. It was exactly the type of reaction which my inner apikores loves to shove right up into my face as he loudly proclaims, "You see! This is what roshei yeshiva are like!"
But I ask myself why this really matters. After all, to a frum Jew, someone who believes in the importance of halacha, it's irrelevant if even the most prominent gadol hador (which no one claims R' Meisleman is, but he is a well respected rosh yeshiva) was caught red-handed in a great juicy fib. Halacha is meant to be adhered to regardless of how other people behave. Yet for some reason the whole thing grates on me terribly. After pondering the matter for a few brief moments, I think I know why it's troubling me so much.
To so many of us whose knowledge of the deep philosophical and ideological truths of Judaism are quite deficient, the fact of the matter is that our commitment to Judaism is to a large part based on trust. Halacha isn't easy to keep, but we keep it because we know it's the right thing. But how do we know that? Most of us haven't really studied or investigated that claim with any real depth. Yet even while we are aware of our lack of solid intellectual grounding, we still trust that that the belief is true. But why? I think if we were to examine why most of us believe that many of our cherished ideas are true, we'll discover that it's simply because our rabbeim have told us that it is so. They've taught us, and explained to us, and instilled it within us, that this is the right path. And we trust these people. We trust them for all sorts of things, but we also most definitely trust them that they understand torah well, that they are fair minded, honest, and considerate. And that they know best. So even though we ourselves can't know for certain it's the right thing, we rest easy knowing that these great people, who are so much wiser and more knowledgeable than us, must surely have investigated the issues properly, deliberated carefully, and thoroughly considered all the factors before coming to the conclusion that our path is indeed the right one.
But when I see something like the above, when I see a person that is considered a talmid chacham, one who is supposedly fair-minded and reasonable, and who posseses much knowledgeable of torah, one who is looked up to and admired as a bearer of truth, displaying such an utterly reprehensible demonstration of prejudice and untrustworthiness, it shakes me to my very core. And it makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, the trust I put in my rabbis about the torah being right and proper might actually be mistaken too.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
My Truth
I've gotten some nice feedback on my previous posts, and I've discovered, as is frequently the case, much of what I wrote was misunderstood. Many conclusions were drawn that should not have been. This probably happened because my disclaimer at the top was disregarded. I'll repeat it here: It shouldn't be assumed that the quotes I provide from my side of the dialogue fully and accurately reflect my sentiments on the issue being discussed. I made that disclaimer for a reason: Because it's true. In the discussions, I was rarely presenting my own comprehensive views on the issues. It was not meant to be a thorough and exhaustive review of the theological and ideological viewpoints of Da'as Hedyot (I don't think even I know that). Like an attorney who might defend a cause he doesn't fully support, I was just trying to deflect EYG's points, and the manner in which I did so shouldn't be construed as a basis for understanding how I myself feel about the issues. When I challenged his premises, I did so by sometimes positing a well known objection (but not one that I necessarily put much stock in), sometimes throwing out an idea that I think has some merit, but not that I am absolutely convinced of, and at times also occasionally presenting a view that I personally subscribe to.
Many people viewed the exchange as a fierce and fiery debate between a believer and a non-believer, each staking their claim to the truth. I didn't think of it like that at all. It's more just a simple dialogue between two Jews: One, a staunch proponent of black-hat Judaism who never really examined the foundations of his beliefs or the choices he's made, yet feels compelled to impress upon his friend the truths that he holds dear. And on the other side is a guy who just wants to be left alone, but if pressured enough will give his colleague a run for his money, demonstrating that many of his assumptions are at best unfounded, at worst, mistaken, but most of the time simply not as universally agreed upon as he thinks.
A lot of the comments got me thinking about the issues more and motivated me to work on writing up a clearer picture of how I personally feel about them. One particular (anonymous) comment was really very thought provoking and after thinking over the objections he raised, I started responding to the comment, but when I found my (typically wordy) response stretching to two pages, I realized it warranted a post of it's own, which I'm presenting here. Before continuing further, go back for a moment and read this fellow's interesting comment.
(By the way, EYG called back again, but thankfully I wasn't home.)
------
MMT:
Your comments were very interesting and got me thinking quite a bit about what I had written. But some of your objections were quite surprising to me. I wasn't aware that I was professing the things that you were claiming I was. In fact, I had to read over the posts a few times just to make sure I really wasn't. I believe that you raise some really good issues in your comments but after reexamining my words and my thoughts, I think that you've drawn certain conclusions that are simply wrong. One simple explanation for that might be that you didn't see the disclaimer that I put at the beginning of the post. Please go back and read that carefully. Additionally, I think your own biases on the issues are causing you to draw certain unjustified inferences. In fact, hearing the conclusions you jumped to reminded me of some of the same assumptions that EYG made in my discussion with him.
> Should we really just act like animals that do whatever pleases them? Surely, someone has probably told you this before, but what you are espousing is hedonism.
As I understand it, hedonism is a philosophy of gratifying oneself primarily through physical pleasure. Contrary to what you read into my words, I never espoused that (except in the ridiculous idea I threw out as a red herring). What I'm after is not a life of pursuing pleasure. It's a life of genuine meaning and fulfillment. Pursuing pleasure is not synonymous with pursuing fulfillment.
> If you really believe this, I hope you'd have no problem with a serial murderer who tells you that killing people gives him a tremendous sense of fulfillment.
Comparison to murder is obviously ridiculous as what I am doing has no significant bearing on anyone else's life but my own. Even if I was out to just satisfy my physical desires (as you claim, not as I ever did), I'm not harming anyone in my pursuit of that lifestyle. The analogy is way off. Advocating a life of pleasure seeking (which I'm not) does not logically lead one to accepting the legitimacy of a serial murderer who claims to be happier killing people.
For the fun of it, I'd just like to point out that one can make the murderer argument the other way too. If you claim that one should only do what they truly believe is true and right, especially when it is instructed by God, then you have to accept the approach of those who claim a divine mandate to murder. Taking your own words of...
Therefore, realize that if you accept the dogma of "it makes me feel good" you also have to accept the serial killer.
...and applying your position to that statement, changes it just slightly:
Therefore, realize that if you accept the dogma of "you must follow the divine law of God" (as one truly believes it) you also have to accept the Islamic suicide bomber.
> I'm honestly surprised that you're willing to admit to yourself that you live the way you do without regard to the truth.
...and...
> ...to say that truth doesn't matter is, to say the least, astounding....
I was quite surprised when reading this. Do I really not care about the truth? And all this time I thought was an honest guy! I believe you're implying ideas from my statements that I never alleged. I looked over the posts and tried to find what it is I said that could lead you to that conclusion. I found two possible culprits. The first one was when I said, "Caring about the emes is not the issue." It should be obvious that I never claimed here that I don't care about truth. I simply was pointing out that IMHO, objective, intellectual truth is not the deciding factor in why a person ultimately chooses a certain path. Not that it doesn't matter at all or that it doesn't matter to me.
The other possible statement I found was in a comment where I said, "but if all they can prove to me is that the other lifestyle is "more true" than I don't really care too much". I can see how one might conclude from that what you did, but it is mistaken nonetheless.
I care very much about truth. One of the truths I hold dear is that we all are entitled to live a life of genuine fulfillment and goodness. And (barring certain unique circumstances) that no one should be forced to live a life that they find unfulfilling, objectionable, or one which causes them endless misery; that it is cruel and unjust to force a person to adopt a lifestyle and/or values incongruous with who or what they know themselves to be.
When I say "I don't care", I don't mean that I don't care about truth. What I meant is that I don't care about proofs. I say this for a number of reasons. Firstly, I know that many great minds have debated the issues for thousands of years and no one has ever been able to conclusively "prove" anything one way or the other. Additionally, over the years I've had so many people "prove" tons of things to me that later on I discovered were just outright falsities. I simply was not smart enough to see the error of their position. As you might suspect, most of those people were religious figures that were trying to push their particular agenda on me. So when someone comes to me claiming some religious truth I just can't help being a bit skeptical, even if they seem to have the most convincing proofs ever.
But I think the main reason I don't trust proofs is because I don't believe that truth exists in a vacuum. Just because someone can prove an idea in a theological or philosophical test tube does not really prove it as true. Truth also has to be consistent with an inner conviction. I believe that I'm entitled to pursue a life that brings me genuine meaning and happiness. When I say and mean that "I believe", I'm saying that I consider that ideal to be true. If you were to somehow "prove" to me that that's not true, it doesn't matter. That truth is felt deep inside.
I can see that I'm not really explaining myself too well. The best way I can think of to explain my point is to examine why many homosexual people have a problem with halacha. A truly homosexual person knows that this is who they are. But the torah apparently says that this way that they are is wrong, is an abomination (yes, I know that it only speaks about the act, not the person, but the point still stands, there's a part of them that is supposedly immoral according to the torah). They can't accept this. It doesn't matter how "true" the idea is, how "proven" it can be, how black-and-white indisputable the claim is, or how authoritative the source of the idea is, a person can not accept an idea as truth when it is fundamentally objectionable to who they are or what they believe inside.
Ultimately, no matter how incontrovertible the evidence seems to be, the truth has to be consistent with what we feel inside ourselves to be true. The values which we hold dear are truths too. Whether it be the pursuit of justice, or compassion, or human dignity, or equality, or the value of human life, or education, or freedom, or morality - those values are truths too. And intellectual arguments to the contrary will not sway a person who truly believes in those values, no matter how convincing.
(That's not to say that intellectual debates about these issues are not worthwhile. Sometimes an honest discussion will show a person that what they once valued so much is not so supreme anymore. Other times, a confrontation with a convincing opponent will motivate a person to try to intellectually back up their inner convictions. Oftentimes, forcing a person to closely examine their values will reveal that they don't truly believe all that they thought they did. But at the end of the day, if the person truly values the idea as a deeply held inner conviction, I don't think logical arguments are going to change the person's views.)
> And if you really don't care and think Judaism is unimportant or irrelevant...
Another claim that is unfounded. Where did I ever say this? Maybe you drew that conclusion when I said, "I found that observing many parts of the torah did not provide me with any fulfillment or meaning whatsoever. It does nothing for me." If so, please understand that "many parts of the torah" does not mean Judaism as a whole. And "did not provide me with any fulfillment or meaning whatsoever" does not mean unimportant or irrelevant. For example, a person can not want to keep shabbos because it does nothing for them personally, yet still appreciate the contribution that shabbos can have on other people, on families, and on society as a whole. (Also, while I'm at it, I might as well mention that "I'm hungry" doesn't mean I'm about to die of starvation, and "she's pretty" doesn't mean that I want to marry her. Just in case you might misunderstand that too. :)
Thanks for the feedback. I appreciate your insights and welcome any other comments you have on my writings.
----------
For all those of you who really are wondering what I believe or don't believe when it comes to the intellectual issues that were raised......sorry, I'm not going to tell you. And why should I? It really doesn't matter. The stuff I write here is what I want to share, not what other people want to know (unless of course, I want to share what you want to know). I also haven't told you my favorite movies, eateries, about my recent job promotion, how my phone line got turned off, the politician I met at the car wash and so many other varied and sundry aspects of my personal life. This blog is not about those things. And it's not even really about me personally. For those who haven't figured it out yet, when I do write a piece, even when it is presented in the first person, it's not meant to be focusing on me. When I write my views about aspects of Jewish society or thought, it's also about how many other people like myself see things. When I write about how I am a certain way, or feel a certain way, due to experience X or idea Y, it's not meant to be a self-indulgent kvetch, but to show how those parts of Judaism can have consequences that so many don't want to face. The things I share here are not meant to help you get to know me better. They're to help you get to know us better. And your society better. And your Judaism. And maybe even yourselves.
Edit: Um, I just realized that last paragraph isn't entirely accurate. I actually do write about my personal experiences sometimes. But didn't that whole shpiel at the end sound so impressive? My ego sure thinks so! I can't just delete such a fantastic finale! I think I'm just going to overlook that minor detail and leave it all in (after all, as the commenter said, I have no regard for truth!). Your allowing me to indulge my grandiose fantasies is greatly appreciated.
Many people viewed the exchange as a fierce and fiery debate between a believer and a non-believer, each staking their claim to the truth. I didn't think of it like that at all. It's more just a simple dialogue between two Jews: One, a staunch proponent of black-hat Judaism who never really examined the foundations of his beliefs or the choices he's made, yet feels compelled to impress upon his friend the truths that he holds dear. And on the other side is a guy who just wants to be left alone, but if pressured enough will give his colleague a run for his money, demonstrating that many of his assumptions are at best unfounded, at worst, mistaken, but most of the time simply not as universally agreed upon as he thinks.
A lot of the comments got me thinking about the issues more and motivated me to work on writing up a clearer picture of how I personally feel about them. One particular (anonymous) comment was really very thought provoking and after thinking over the objections he raised, I started responding to the comment, but when I found my (typically wordy) response stretching to two pages, I realized it warranted a post of it's own, which I'm presenting here. Before continuing further, go back for a moment and read this fellow's interesting comment.
(By the way, EYG called back again, but thankfully I wasn't home.)
------
MMT:
Your comments were very interesting and got me thinking quite a bit about what I had written. But some of your objections were quite surprising to me. I wasn't aware that I was professing the things that you were claiming I was. In fact, I had to read over the posts a few times just to make sure I really wasn't. I believe that you raise some really good issues in your comments but after reexamining my words and my thoughts, I think that you've drawn certain conclusions that are simply wrong. One simple explanation for that might be that you didn't see the disclaimer that I put at the beginning of the post. Please go back and read that carefully. Additionally, I think your own biases on the issues are causing you to draw certain unjustified inferences. In fact, hearing the conclusions you jumped to reminded me of some of the same assumptions that EYG made in my discussion with him.
> Should we really just act like animals that do whatever pleases them? Surely, someone has probably told you this before, but what you are espousing is hedonism.
As I understand it, hedonism is a philosophy of gratifying oneself primarily through physical pleasure. Contrary to what you read into my words, I never espoused that (except in the ridiculous idea I threw out as a red herring). What I'm after is not a life of pursuing pleasure. It's a life of genuine meaning and fulfillment. Pursuing pleasure is not synonymous with pursuing fulfillment.
> If you really believe this, I hope you'd have no problem with a serial murderer who tells you that killing people gives him a tremendous sense of fulfillment.
Comparison to murder is obviously ridiculous as what I am doing has no significant bearing on anyone else's life but my own. Even if I was out to just satisfy my physical desires (as you claim, not as I ever did), I'm not harming anyone in my pursuit of that lifestyle. The analogy is way off. Advocating a life of pleasure seeking (which I'm not) does not logically lead one to accepting the legitimacy of a serial murderer who claims to be happier killing people.
For the fun of it, I'd just like to point out that one can make the murderer argument the other way too. If you claim that one should only do what they truly believe is true and right, especially when it is instructed by God, then you have to accept the approach of those who claim a divine mandate to murder. Taking your own words of...
Therefore, realize that if you accept the dogma of "it makes me feel good" you also have to accept the serial killer.
...and applying your position to that statement, changes it just slightly:
Therefore, realize that if you accept the dogma of "you must follow the divine law of God" (as one truly believes it) you also have to accept the Islamic suicide bomber.
> I'm honestly surprised that you're willing to admit to yourself that you live the way you do without regard to the truth.
...and...
> ...to say that truth doesn't matter is, to say the least, astounding....
I was quite surprised when reading this. Do I really not care about the truth? And all this time I thought was an honest guy! I believe you're implying ideas from my statements that I never alleged. I looked over the posts and tried to find what it is I said that could lead you to that conclusion. I found two possible culprits. The first one was when I said, "Caring about the emes is not the issue." It should be obvious that I never claimed here that I don't care about truth. I simply was pointing out that IMHO, objective, intellectual truth is not the deciding factor in why a person ultimately chooses a certain path. Not that it doesn't matter at all or that it doesn't matter to me.
The other possible statement I found was in a comment where I said, "but if all they can prove to me is that the other lifestyle is "more true" than I don't really care too much". I can see how one might conclude from that what you did, but it is mistaken nonetheless.
I care very much about truth. One of the truths I hold dear is that we all are entitled to live a life of genuine fulfillment and goodness. And (barring certain unique circumstances) that no one should be forced to live a life that they find unfulfilling, objectionable, or one which causes them endless misery; that it is cruel and unjust to force a person to adopt a lifestyle and/or values incongruous with who or what they know themselves to be.
When I say "I don't care", I don't mean that I don't care about truth. What I meant is that I don't care about proofs. I say this for a number of reasons. Firstly, I know that many great minds have debated the issues for thousands of years and no one has ever been able to conclusively "prove" anything one way or the other. Additionally, over the years I've had so many people "prove" tons of things to me that later on I discovered were just outright falsities. I simply was not smart enough to see the error of their position. As you might suspect, most of those people were religious figures that were trying to push their particular agenda on me. So when someone comes to me claiming some religious truth I just can't help being a bit skeptical, even if they seem to have the most convincing proofs ever.
But I think the main reason I don't trust proofs is because I don't believe that truth exists in a vacuum. Just because someone can prove an idea in a theological or philosophical test tube does not really prove it as true. Truth also has to be consistent with an inner conviction. I believe that I'm entitled to pursue a life that brings me genuine meaning and happiness. When I say and mean that "I believe", I'm saying that I consider that ideal to be true. If you were to somehow "prove" to me that that's not true, it doesn't matter. That truth is felt deep inside.
I can see that I'm not really explaining myself too well. The best way I can think of to explain my point is to examine why many homosexual people have a problem with halacha. A truly homosexual person knows that this is who they are. But the torah apparently says that this way that they are is wrong, is an abomination (yes, I know that it only speaks about the act, not the person, but the point still stands, there's a part of them that is supposedly immoral according to the torah). They can't accept this. It doesn't matter how "true" the idea is, how "proven" it can be, how black-and-white indisputable the claim is, or how authoritative the source of the idea is, a person can not accept an idea as truth when it is fundamentally objectionable to who they are or what they believe inside.
Ultimately, no matter how incontrovertible the evidence seems to be, the truth has to be consistent with what we feel inside ourselves to be true. The values which we hold dear are truths too. Whether it be the pursuit of justice, or compassion, or human dignity, or equality, or the value of human life, or education, or freedom, or morality - those values are truths too. And intellectual arguments to the contrary will not sway a person who truly believes in those values, no matter how convincing.
(That's not to say that intellectual debates about these issues are not worthwhile. Sometimes an honest discussion will show a person that what they once valued so much is not so supreme anymore. Other times, a confrontation with a convincing opponent will motivate a person to try to intellectually back up their inner convictions. Oftentimes, forcing a person to closely examine their values will reveal that they don't truly believe all that they thought they did. But at the end of the day, if the person truly values the idea as a deeply held inner conviction, I don't think logical arguments are going to change the person's views.)
> And if you really don't care and think Judaism is unimportant or irrelevant...
Another claim that is unfounded. Where did I ever say this? Maybe you drew that conclusion when I said, "I found that observing many parts of the torah did not provide me with any fulfillment or meaning whatsoever. It does nothing for me." If so, please understand that "many parts of the torah" does not mean Judaism as a whole. And "did not provide me with any fulfillment or meaning whatsoever" does not mean unimportant or irrelevant. For example, a person can not want to keep shabbos because it does nothing for them personally, yet still appreciate the contribution that shabbos can have on other people, on families, and on society as a whole. (Also, while I'm at it, I might as well mention that "I'm hungry" doesn't mean I'm about to die of starvation, and "she's pretty" doesn't mean that I want to marry her. Just in case you might misunderstand that too. :)
Thanks for the feedback. I appreciate your insights and welcome any other comments you have on my writings.
----------
For all those of you who really are wondering what I believe or don't believe when it comes to the intellectual issues that were raised......sorry, I'm not going to tell you. And why should I? It really doesn't matter. The stuff I write here is what I want to share, not what other people want to know (unless of course, I want to share what you want to know). I also haven't told you my favorite movies, eateries, about my recent job promotion, how my phone line got turned off, the politician I met at the car wash and so many other varied and sundry aspects of my personal life. This blog is not about those things. And it's not even really about me personally. For those who haven't figured it out yet, when I do write a piece, even when it is presented in the first person, it's not meant to be focusing on me. When I write my views about aspects of Jewish society or thought, it's also about how many other people like myself see things. When I write about how I am a certain way, or feel a certain way, due to experience X or idea Y, it's not meant to be a self-indulgent kvetch, but to show how those parts of Judaism can have consequences that so many don't want to face. The things I share here are not meant to help you get to know me better. They're to help you get to know us better. And your society better. And your Judaism. And maybe even yourselves.
Edit: Um, I just realized that last paragraph isn't entirely accurate. I actually do write about my personal experiences sometimes. But didn't that whole shpiel at the end sound so impressive? My ego sure thinks so! I can't just delete such a fantastic finale! I think I'm just going to overlook that minor detail and leave it all in (after all, as the commenter said, I have no regard for truth!). Your allowing me to indulge my grandiose fantasies is greatly appreciated.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Unforgiven
I've recently been granted the dubious honor of having one of Godol Hador's songs named after me. I understand that it's a really big deal, and I should be more appreciative, but I'm actually pretty disappointed. The lyrics are really not that apt for who I am or how I feel.
However, walking along the street the other day, a long forgotten song came on the radio, one which I hadn't heard in years, but which brought back vivid memories of when I was first introduced to it. Even more surprisingly, as I listened to the lyrics, I couldn't help noticing the words moving me in a most powerful and deep way. Much more than GH's Daashedyotian Rhapsody ever did. I figured that I should share this song with you to give a more accurate depiction of what a song that should have my name on it would be like.
I remember that when I had first encountered this song, I had been unsuccessfully attempting to dissuade my friend from making me listen to it. He was insisting it was the most brilliant masterpiece of all time, but from my vantage point the song was from a particularly "unkosher" group and I did not believe it was at all possible for anything they produced to have any sort of redeeming value.
Eventually he prevailed, and I sat down with his discman to hear the wisdom of Metallica. As the song began with it's slow and somber melody I admitted to myself that it was actually quite enjoyable. Had I misjudged it after all? But suddenly I was jarred from my reverie as the delicate notes were replaced with a crash of cymbals and a loud, angry, shouting vocalist. I was right after all! This was crude, unrefined noise, not worthy of being called music!
But as I began to make out the words, I slowly realized that my initial dismissive assessment really was quite premature. This song was expressing something very real, and very painful. The lyrics alternated between anger & accusation and sadness & longing. It was very raw. And I understood well how my friend could feel that the song was all about him. As poetry so often does, it was expressing what was in his heart, better than he could ever hope to.
I never thought much about that song after that. Although I recognized that it spoke meaningfully to a whole group of people who strongly identified with it, I never considered how it related to me.
But hearing it the other day I realized how amazingly powerful and true that song is. I probably dismissed it so easily back then because I was unaware just how relevant it was to me. Or maybe I knew but was afraid to admit it. Either way, now I understood it's meaning and the revelation was bringing tears to my eyes.
The song isn't an entirely accurate portrayal of how I feel about things (both in the past and the present). However, there are parts in it that are so dead-on that it truly is a masterpiece. I just hope you don't get the wrong idea from certain parts. (I'd like to believe that I'm not a bitter old man.) I strongly recommend that you listen to the original song, rather than just read the lyrics, but in the meantime, I present to you, The Unforgiven:
However, walking along the street the other day, a long forgotten song came on the radio, one which I hadn't heard in years, but which brought back vivid memories of when I was first introduced to it. Even more surprisingly, as I listened to the lyrics, I couldn't help noticing the words moving me in a most powerful and deep way. Much more than GH's Daashedyotian Rhapsody ever did. I figured that I should share this song with you to give a more accurate depiction of what a song that should have my name on it would be like.
I remember that when I had first encountered this song, I had been unsuccessfully attempting to dissuade my friend from making me listen to it. He was insisting it was the most brilliant masterpiece of all time, but from my vantage point the song was from a particularly "unkosher" group and I did not believe it was at all possible for anything they produced to have any sort of redeeming value.
Eventually he prevailed, and I sat down with his discman to hear the wisdom of Metallica. As the song began with it's slow and somber melody I admitted to myself that it was actually quite enjoyable. Had I misjudged it after all? But suddenly I was jarred from my reverie as the delicate notes were replaced with a crash of cymbals and a loud, angry, shouting vocalist. I was right after all! This was crude, unrefined noise, not worthy of being called music!
But as I began to make out the words, I slowly realized that my initial dismissive assessment really was quite premature. This song was expressing something very real, and very painful. The lyrics alternated between anger & accusation and sadness & longing. It was very raw. And I understood well how my friend could feel that the song was all about him. As poetry so often does, it was expressing what was in his heart, better than he could ever hope to.
I never thought much about that song after that. Although I recognized that it spoke meaningfully to a whole group of people who strongly identified with it, I never considered how it related to me.
But hearing it the other day I realized how amazingly powerful and true that song is. I probably dismissed it so easily back then because I was unaware just how relevant it was to me. Or maybe I knew but was afraid to admit it. Either way, now I understood it's meaning and the revelation was bringing tears to my eyes.
The song isn't an entirely accurate portrayal of how I feel about things (both in the past and the present). However, there are parts in it that are so dead-on that it truly is a masterpiece. I just hope you don't get the wrong idea from certain parts. (I'd like to believe that I'm not a bitter old man.) I strongly recommend that you listen to the original song, rather than just read the lyrics, but in the meantime, I present to you, The Unforgiven:
New blood joins this earth
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pain disgrace
The young boy learns their rules
With time the child draws in
This whipping boy done wrong
Deprived of all his thoughts
The young man struggles on and on he's known
A vow unto his own
That never from this day
His will they'll take away
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee unforgiven
They dedicate their lives
To running all of his
He tries to please them all
This bitter man he is
Throughout his life the same
He's battled constantly
This fight he cannot win
A tired man they see no longer cares
The old man then prepares
To die regretfully
That old man here is me
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee unforgiven
You labeled me
I'll label you
So I dub thee unforgiven
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pain disgrace
The young boy learns their rules
With time the child draws in
This whipping boy done wrong
Deprived of all his thoughts
The young man struggles on and on he's known
A vow unto his own
That never from this day
His will they'll take away
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee unforgiven
They dedicate their lives
To running all of his
He tries to please them all
This bitter man he is
Throughout his life the same
He's battled constantly
This fight he cannot win
A tired man they see no longer cares
The old man then prepares
To die regretfully
That old man here is me
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been
What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee unforgiven
You labeled me
I'll label you
So I dub thee unforgiven
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Soul Saving - Part II
Part I here.
The conversation with my erstwhile yeshiva friend did not just end that night. He called me up twice more after that. The second time he dived right back in, swinging as hard as he could but sadly, hardly ever making any solid contact.
Not all of his arguments were so terribly weak. Some were ok, but were just so misdirected that even though they made some sense, they really had no bearing on the specific issue being focused on (as best as I could tell). I can't really claim that my defense was so outstanding. For the most part, the assault that I was up against was practically ineffective all on it's own. There were some arguments that I conceded to him, but invariably they were predicated on some presumption that I totally did not agree to. For instance, many of his arguments were preceded by the statement, "Let's say, hypothetically, that you agreed that..."
Very often, when presenting his positions, he would employ a mashal (an analogy) to make his point. On the one hand, I was unsurprised to hear these familiar arguments, as I knew they were standard fare when discussing these topics. On the other hand, this was quite surprising to me, as they were all the same infantile, simplistic analogies that I had heard from rabbeim years ago. Did he really not have anything better to offer than those same tired arguments that were used on us when we were gullible, unthinking high school kids? The very fact that he was utilizing tactics that I knew were straight out of the yeshiva rebbe's playbook made me have even less respect for the ideas he was proposing. (And the fact that I wasn't able to easily squash every one of them made me have even less respect for my own critical thinking abilities.)
I definitely did not mount such a brilliant defense. I didn't perform as impressively as I would have liked. Not that I cared too. I really didn't. I would have liked to, but it didn't really matter that much to me. After all, I hadn't initiated this whole debate. Our dispute did not end with him being overwhelmingly crushed by my dazzling and unassailable logic. I deflected his attacks adequately, but it was by no means a knockout.
All in all, in my opinion, a very sad performance, from all sides involved. Below I share some of the more memorable moments of our sad and pathetic exchange.
(Disclaimer: It shouldn't be assumed that the quotes I provide from my side of the dialogue fully and accurately reflect my sentiments on the issue being discussed. They are just brief snippets of conversation, meant to draw attention to a particular point, and not wholly representative of my full view on the specific issue.)
-------
DH: I don't think that everything in the Torah is false, but some things definitely are.
EYG: How could you say such a thing? The toirah is kulo emes! If you believe parts of it are true, then obviously all of it is true! It can't be both emes and sheker!
(Could I have asked for a better example of The Black & White Principle?)
----
DH: I really don't have time to keep talking about this endlessly. I have to hang up already.
EYG: No, wait! Don't hang up!
DH: I really don't have time for this! You've kept me on the phone for 2 hours already!
EYG: But what if I was offering you a chance to get a million dollars? Wouldn't you give me another 15 minutes for the chance to get a million dollars? Wouldn't you?!
---
At one point I tried taking the offensive a bit:
DH: You know, you keep claiming that I should try out torah and mitzvos again, that I should speak to people that have answers to my questions, that I'm throwing away what's important, etc. Well, I'll tell you what: I'll do that if you do something for me. I want you to speak to people that will show you the problems in your beliefs. People that will clearly demonstrate the falsity of so much of your way of thinking and way of life. Okay? How about it?
EYG: Well, the Rambam says that a person shouldn't discuss certain inyanim unless he's ra'ui (fit) to understand them properly.....
DH: So basically you're saying that you're not interested in discovering truth. You know exactly where the answers lie. But you're only allowed to search them out if you're trusted to end up where they want you to. Is that right? Have you ever heard of intellectual honesty?
EYG: Um, no. But I think I understand what it means.
----
EYG: Do you find yourself happier now than when you were frum?
DH: Yes. I really think so.
EYG: I think the real reason you think you're happier now is because as the gemara says, "Mayim g'nuvim yimtaku." Stolen waters are sweeter.
That one really left me speechless! And I still have no idea how I to counter such a brilliant argument! How does one respond to such stupidity? Where to start?
----
DH: I found that observing many parts of the torah did not provide me with any fulfillment or meaning whatsoever. It does nothing for me. All it contributes to my life is headaches and hassles.
EYG: The toirah promises that following the mitzvos is the best thing for you. If it doesn't seem so good now, that's only because you sometimes have to wait a little before the good part comes. Not all good things come right away. You're only 30 years old! If the richest guy in the world asked you to do a few things for him in exchange for a billion dollars, wouldn't you do it? If he didn't give you the money right away, would you tell him you're not interested in it anymore?! If it got a little difficult at some point, would you just say you don't care anymore?! You'd have to be a meshugene to do that! No?!
-----
Very often when I did give him a point that he didn't know how to answer, he replied with:
EYG: Look, I'm not claiming to be the Godol Hador. (I know that. He is.) I don't have all the answers. But I guarantee you that there are experts out there than can answer your questions. You really should speak to them.
-----
The discussion just kept on going nowhere. He kept coming back to every little point, trying to convince me that my perspective was wrong, that my understanding of torah was wrong, that my questions could be answered, that I was making a mistake, and on and on. Eventually, at the end of our second discussion, I realize that he's not ever going to give up on this. Not until he gets me to admit the error of my ways. So I figure I'll just throw out a ridiculous idea, one which obviously wasn't true but which didn't give any recourse to debate:
DH: You know, you're right. It's not about sfeikos (doubts). I still believe the torah is true. But if I followed the torah then I wouldn't be able to have sex 3 times a day with 15 different women! I'm living the life I am to satisfy my taivos (desires) and give in to my yetzer hara (evil inclination). That's the real truth.
It was quite obvious that I stated this with exaggeration, and it was clearly intended to just send the message of leaving me alone and ending the debate, but the next day, when he calls me up and tries to go at it again, he starts off by telling me that he wants to respond to what I said at the end about the relationships I have.
DH: Huh? (I honestly had no idea what he was talking about.)
EYG: You mentioned about how you have some kind of relationship with certain ladies.....
DH (trying really hard not to laugh): Oh, that! Um, okay. What about it?
(I was really tempted to play dumb and force him to elaborate what he was referring to. It was plainly obvious that the guy was deathly afraid of repeating what I had said and he was probably even uncomfortable with saying the word sex. But I let it go. I'm just too nice.)
And then he goes into this rambling mussar shmuez which sounded something like this:
EYG: I'm not sure if you were serious about what you were saying, but you should know that just because you're oisek in aveirois....you can always do teshuva.....ain tzadik b'aretz asher loi yecheta......everyone gets involved in chatoyim.....hashem is noisein yad lapoyshim.....especially now that it's elul.....yoim kippur is mechaper on all sorts of aveirois.....
It went on for quite a while until I told him he was wasting his time again. But it was really something to hear!
-----
After lamely sparring with each other for over an hour over various intellectual issues which I feel give one a basis for doubting every ikkar of today's accepted frum hashkafa, I finally tell the poor guy that he's just totally barking up the wrong tree. First of all, his arguments are entirely unconvincing. But more importantly, these issues really are not the crux of why I've chosen to live the way that I am. So even if he was somehow effective in his presentation, it wouldn't really matter. The path I've chosen in my life is not (primarily) due to any of these intellectual issues.
DH: Enough already with all these irrelevant and abstract issues! First of all, you've clearly demonstrated to me that you have no freaking idea what you're talking about in any of these areas. So please, please, shut up already. (At this point in the conversation my patience has begun to wear thin and I'm getting kind of snappy.) Secondly, it really doesn't matter to me one way or another.
EYG: What do you mean? Don't you care about the emes?
DH: Caring about the emes is not the issue. People aren't frum because they believe the torah is true. Yes, I know that's why they claim they're frum. But it's not the real reason. You need to understand that the reason people choose to live their lives a certain way is not solely because of logic and truth. It's a combination of factors involving beliefs, community norms, personal values, familial and social expectations, trust in the system, lifestyle choices, education, indoctrination, and other complex factors.
Understandably, this idea offended him a bit. Frum people like himself are fiercely proud of the fact that they are living their lives out of a heartfelt devotion to the truth. He asked me to amend my comment by saying, "For some people, the choice is based on these factors." Fine, I really don't care if he agrees with me or not. I'm trying to help the guy out by giving him a better understanding of why I am the way I am, and he's telling me he doesn't like my perspective. Amazing.
So this drags us into another pointless debate which has him bringing out proofs from rishonim, pesukim, gemaras, all sorts of stuff that I just am totally not interested in. Eventually, I've had enough and tell him he's barking up the wrong tree again.
DH: Look, you obviously have no idea what you're doing here. You don't understand that pesukim, rishonim, the Rambam, gemaras, the Rashba, R' Shach, or whoever it is - they're irrelevant to me. I have no interest in what they have to say. None whatsoever. If you want to convince me of anything it's not going to happen by bringing me proofs from torah sources. I'm living as I am because it works for me. I'm happy. I feel I have more genuine joy, achievement, goodness, meaning and fulfillment in my life this way than what you are proposing to me. If you want me to give this up, you have to show me you're offering me something better. Not something that has proofs that it's true! I'm always interested in improving my life. If you think you have something that can do that for me, I'm willing to hear about it. You need to approach me as someone who knows nothing about torah, does not care what rabbis have to say, and am only motivated by my own enlightened self-interest.
(Basically at this point, I'm giving him advice on how to better present his case to me!)
EYG: I hear what you're saying. I hear you. (...thinks to himself for a little while...) Okay, so can you tell me what you're looking for in life? What is it that you want?
DH: You've got to be kidding me, right?! You're trying to sell me something, claiming that it's so great, will fulfill my greatest desires, and you don't have any idea what my desires are! How can you even believe that torah will give me what I want if you have no idea what it is that I want?
He tried to appeal to me from this angle, but as I suspected would happen, it was an even more dismal case than his intellectual one. The presumption that a frum person obviously has a better life than anyone not frum is so ingrained and so taken for granted by a person with his outlook that he really has no idea how to even broach the subject with someone who disputes it.
---
I tried (unsuccessfully) getting him to realize that I'm a big boy and do not need his help:
DH: Why can't you just leave me alone already? Don't you understand that I'm not a kid? I'm an intelligent, responsible adult that is entitled to make his own decisions about his life. My choices in my life are none of your business.
EYG: Well, imagine if you had a friend who wanted to commit suicide. Wouldn't you want to help him out? What if he really believed it was the right thing for himself? Would you just leave him be to hurt himself like that?
-------
I tried another tactic:
DH: The fact that you know nothing about life outside your constricted world should make you realize that you are not qualified to speak about these things. How can you judge another person's life, or values, or choices if you don't have the slightest inkling or appreciation for what may bring a person to such conclusions?
EYG: Well, what about terrorists? You know about terrorists?
DH: Huh?
EYG: There are terrorists all over the world. Ready to kill other people. To blow themselves up. To hijack airplanes and smash them into the twin towers. To shoot innocent Jews. To go into a restaurant with a bomb strapped to their waist. To teach others hatred. To...
(He keeps going on with his analogy for a few minutes, until I interrupt him and tell him to make his point already.)
EYG: Well, don't you think they're wrong? Can't you think they're wrong even though you don't understand what it is that makes them do what they do? They claim that what they're doing is right, based on their values and understanding, so is it then ok with you?
----
There was so much more. But I think it's finally over. At the end of his third phone call, I think I finally got the message across that nothing he has said to me has had any positive effect whatsoever. In his own words:
EYG: I see that there's no pesach in your mind for discussion...
DH: Huh? Pesach? What does Pesach have to do with anything?
EYG: Not Pesach as in the yontif. A pesicha. An opening. There's no opening in your mind...
I implored him once again to please drop the whole subject, to just stop calling me already and to leave me be. Hopefully, he'll listen to me and finally leave me alone. Even if he does, I know there's still hope for me, because before saying goodbye, he asked me my Jewish name (as in the name to use when davening for me), so when I finally hung up the phone, I did so secure in the knowledge that maybe one day, with enough siyata d'shmaya and heartfelt prayer, my soul may still be saved.
The conversation with my erstwhile yeshiva friend did not just end that night. He called me up twice more after that. The second time he dived right back in, swinging as hard as he could but sadly, hardly ever making any solid contact.
Not all of his arguments were so terribly weak. Some were ok, but were just so misdirected that even though they made some sense, they really had no bearing on the specific issue being focused on (as best as I could tell). I can't really claim that my defense was so outstanding. For the most part, the assault that I was up against was practically ineffective all on it's own. There were some arguments that I conceded to him, but invariably they were predicated on some presumption that I totally did not agree to. For instance, many of his arguments were preceded by the statement, "Let's say, hypothetically, that you agreed that..."
Very often, when presenting his positions, he would employ a mashal (an analogy) to make his point. On the one hand, I was unsurprised to hear these familiar arguments, as I knew they were standard fare when discussing these topics. On the other hand, this was quite surprising to me, as they were all the same infantile, simplistic analogies that I had heard from rabbeim years ago. Did he really not have anything better to offer than those same tired arguments that were used on us when we were gullible, unthinking high school kids? The very fact that he was utilizing tactics that I knew were straight out of the yeshiva rebbe's playbook made me have even less respect for the ideas he was proposing. (And the fact that I wasn't able to easily squash every one of them made me have even less respect for my own critical thinking abilities.)
I definitely did not mount such a brilliant defense. I didn't perform as impressively as I would have liked. Not that I cared too. I really didn't. I would have liked to, but it didn't really matter that much to me. After all, I hadn't initiated this whole debate. Our dispute did not end with him being overwhelmingly crushed by my dazzling and unassailable logic. I deflected his attacks adequately, but it was by no means a knockout.
All in all, in my opinion, a very sad performance, from all sides involved. Below I share some of the more memorable moments of our sad and pathetic exchange.
(Disclaimer: It shouldn't be assumed that the quotes I provide from my side of the dialogue fully and accurately reflect my sentiments on the issue being discussed. They are just brief snippets of conversation, meant to draw attention to a particular point, and not wholly representative of my full view on the specific issue.)
-------
DH: I don't think that everything in the Torah is false, but some things definitely are.
EYG: How could you say such a thing? The toirah is kulo emes! If you believe parts of it are true, then obviously all of it is true! It can't be both emes and sheker!
(Could I have asked for a better example of The Black & White Principle?)
----
DH: I really don't have time to keep talking about this endlessly. I have to hang up already.
EYG: No, wait! Don't hang up!
DH: I really don't have time for this! You've kept me on the phone for 2 hours already!
EYG: But what if I was offering you a chance to get a million dollars? Wouldn't you give me another 15 minutes for the chance to get a million dollars? Wouldn't you?!
---
At one point I tried taking the offensive a bit:
DH: You know, you keep claiming that I should try out torah and mitzvos again, that I should speak to people that have answers to my questions, that I'm throwing away what's important, etc. Well, I'll tell you what: I'll do that if you do something for me. I want you to speak to people that will show you the problems in your beliefs. People that will clearly demonstrate the falsity of so much of your way of thinking and way of life. Okay? How about it?
EYG: Well, the Rambam says that a person shouldn't discuss certain inyanim unless he's ra'ui (fit) to understand them properly.....
DH: So basically you're saying that you're not interested in discovering truth. You know exactly where the answers lie. But you're only allowed to search them out if you're trusted to end up where they want you to. Is that right? Have you ever heard of intellectual honesty?
EYG: Um, no. But I think I understand what it means.
----
EYG: Do you find yourself happier now than when you were frum?
DH: Yes. I really think so.
EYG: I think the real reason you think you're happier now is because as the gemara says, "Mayim g'nuvim yimtaku." Stolen waters are sweeter.
That one really left me speechless! And I still have no idea how I to counter such a brilliant argument! How does one respond to such stupidity? Where to start?
----
DH: I found that observing many parts of the torah did not provide me with any fulfillment or meaning whatsoever. It does nothing for me. All it contributes to my life is headaches and hassles.
EYG: The toirah promises that following the mitzvos is the best thing for you. If it doesn't seem so good now, that's only because you sometimes have to wait a little before the good part comes. Not all good things come right away. You're only 30 years old! If the richest guy in the world asked you to do a few things for him in exchange for a billion dollars, wouldn't you do it? If he didn't give you the money right away, would you tell him you're not interested in it anymore?! If it got a little difficult at some point, would you just say you don't care anymore?! You'd have to be a meshugene to do that! No?!
-----
Very often when I did give him a point that he didn't know how to answer, he replied with:
EYG: Look, I'm not claiming to be the Godol Hador. (I know that. He is.) I don't have all the answers. But I guarantee you that there are experts out there than can answer your questions. You really should speak to them.
-----
The discussion just kept on going nowhere. He kept coming back to every little point, trying to convince me that my perspective was wrong, that my understanding of torah was wrong, that my questions could be answered, that I was making a mistake, and on and on. Eventually, at the end of our second discussion, I realize that he's not ever going to give up on this. Not until he gets me to admit the error of my ways. So I figure I'll just throw out a ridiculous idea, one which obviously wasn't true but which didn't give any recourse to debate:
DH: You know, you're right. It's not about sfeikos (doubts). I still believe the torah is true. But if I followed the torah then I wouldn't be able to have sex 3 times a day with 15 different women! I'm living the life I am to satisfy my taivos (desires) and give in to my yetzer hara (evil inclination). That's the real truth.
It was quite obvious that I stated this with exaggeration, and it was clearly intended to just send the message of leaving me alone and ending the debate, but the next day, when he calls me up and tries to go at it again, he starts off by telling me that he wants to respond to what I said at the end about the relationships I have.
DH: Huh? (I honestly had no idea what he was talking about.)
EYG: You mentioned about how you have some kind of relationship with certain ladies.....
DH (trying really hard not to laugh): Oh, that! Um, okay. What about it?
(I was really tempted to play dumb and force him to elaborate what he was referring to. It was plainly obvious that the guy was deathly afraid of repeating what I had said and he was probably even uncomfortable with saying the word sex. But I let it go. I'm just too nice.)
And then he goes into this rambling mussar shmuez which sounded something like this:
EYG: I'm not sure if you were serious about what you were saying, but you should know that just because you're oisek in aveirois....you can always do teshuva.....ain tzadik b'aretz asher loi yecheta......everyone gets involved in chatoyim.....hashem is noisein yad lapoyshim.....especially now that it's elul.....yoim kippur is mechaper on all sorts of aveirois.....
It went on for quite a while until I told him he was wasting his time again. But it was really something to hear!
-----
After lamely sparring with each other for over an hour over various intellectual issues which I feel give one a basis for doubting every ikkar of today's accepted frum hashkafa, I finally tell the poor guy that he's just totally barking up the wrong tree. First of all, his arguments are entirely unconvincing. But more importantly, these issues really are not the crux of why I've chosen to live the way that I am. So even if he was somehow effective in his presentation, it wouldn't really matter. The path I've chosen in my life is not (primarily) due to any of these intellectual issues.
DH: Enough already with all these irrelevant and abstract issues! First of all, you've clearly demonstrated to me that you have no freaking idea what you're talking about in any of these areas. So please, please, shut up already. (At this point in the conversation my patience has begun to wear thin and I'm getting kind of snappy.) Secondly, it really doesn't matter to me one way or another.
EYG: What do you mean? Don't you care about the emes?
DH: Caring about the emes is not the issue. People aren't frum because they believe the torah is true. Yes, I know that's why they claim they're frum. But it's not the real reason. You need to understand that the reason people choose to live their lives a certain way is not solely because of logic and truth. It's a combination of factors involving beliefs, community norms, personal values, familial and social expectations, trust in the system, lifestyle choices, education, indoctrination, and other complex factors.
Understandably, this idea offended him a bit. Frum people like himself are fiercely proud of the fact that they are living their lives out of a heartfelt devotion to the truth. He asked me to amend my comment by saying, "For some people, the choice is based on these factors." Fine, I really don't care if he agrees with me or not. I'm trying to help the guy out by giving him a better understanding of why I am the way I am, and he's telling me he doesn't like my perspective. Amazing.
So this drags us into another pointless debate which has him bringing out proofs from rishonim, pesukim, gemaras, all sorts of stuff that I just am totally not interested in. Eventually, I've had enough and tell him he's barking up the wrong tree again.
DH: Look, you obviously have no idea what you're doing here. You don't understand that pesukim, rishonim, the Rambam, gemaras, the Rashba, R' Shach, or whoever it is - they're irrelevant to me. I have no interest in what they have to say. None whatsoever. If you want to convince me of anything it's not going to happen by bringing me proofs from torah sources. I'm living as I am because it works for me. I'm happy. I feel I have more genuine joy, achievement, goodness, meaning and fulfillment in my life this way than what you are proposing to me. If you want me to give this up, you have to show me you're offering me something better. Not something that has proofs that it's true! I'm always interested in improving my life. If you think you have something that can do that for me, I'm willing to hear about it. You need to approach me as someone who knows nothing about torah, does not care what rabbis have to say, and am only motivated by my own enlightened self-interest.
(Basically at this point, I'm giving him advice on how to better present his case to me!)
EYG: I hear what you're saying. I hear you. (...thinks to himself for a little while...) Okay, so can you tell me what you're looking for in life? What is it that you want?
DH: You've got to be kidding me, right?! You're trying to sell me something, claiming that it's so great, will fulfill my greatest desires, and you don't have any idea what my desires are! How can you even believe that torah will give me what I want if you have no idea what it is that I want?
He tried to appeal to me from this angle, but as I suspected would happen, it was an even more dismal case than his intellectual one. The presumption that a frum person obviously has a better life than anyone not frum is so ingrained and so taken for granted by a person with his outlook that he really has no idea how to even broach the subject with someone who disputes it.
---
I tried (unsuccessfully) getting him to realize that I'm a big boy and do not need his help:
DH: Why can't you just leave me alone already? Don't you understand that I'm not a kid? I'm an intelligent, responsible adult that is entitled to make his own decisions about his life. My choices in my life are none of your business.
EYG: Well, imagine if you had a friend who wanted to commit suicide. Wouldn't you want to help him out? What if he really believed it was the right thing for himself? Would you just leave him be to hurt himself like that?
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I tried another tactic:
DH: The fact that you know nothing about life outside your constricted world should make you realize that you are not qualified to speak about these things. How can you judge another person's life, or values, or choices if you don't have the slightest inkling or appreciation for what may bring a person to such conclusions?
EYG: Well, what about terrorists? You know about terrorists?
DH: Huh?
EYG: There are terrorists all over the world. Ready to kill other people. To blow themselves up. To hijack airplanes and smash them into the twin towers. To shoot innocent Jews. To go into a restaurant with a bomb strapped to their waist. To teach others hatred. To...
(He keeps going on with his analogy for a few minutes, until I interrupt him and tell him to make his point already.)
EYG: Well, don't you think they're wrong? Can't you think they're wrong even though you don't understand what it is that makes them do what they do? They claim that what they're doing is right, based on their values and understanding, so is it then ok with you?
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There was so much more. But I think it's finally over. At the end of his third phone call, I think I finally got the message across that nothing he has said to me has had any positive effect whatsoever. In his own words:
EYG: I see that there's no pesach in your mind for discussion...
DH: Huh? Pesach? What does Pesach have to do with anything?
EYG: Not Pesach as in the yontif. A pesicha. An opening. There's no opening in your mind...
I implored him once again to please drop the whole subject, to just stop calling me already and to leave me be. Hopefully, he'll listen to me and finally leave me alone. Even if he does, I know there's still hope for me, because before saying goodbye, he asked me my Jewish name (as in the name to use when davening for me), so when I finally hung up the phone, I did so secure in the knowledge that maybe one day, with enough siyata d'shmaya and heartfelt prayer, my soul may still be saved.
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