What Our Community Can Learn from the Asifa

By now, you have likely heard about the Internet Asifa, the large gathering of Orthodox Jews at Citi Field a few weeks ago to address the dangers of the Internet. The gathering included some harsh and strict proclamations, such as it is forbidden to have Internet in the home and it is only permissible to use the web for work purposes.

Announcements of the Asifa were greeted with great skepticism, cynicism and suspicion by those outside of Charedi, right wing circles. Indeed, the Asifa became the subject of many jokes such as, “the Asifa is the only time Citi Field will sell out this season,” or “did you hear about the Amshinover Chassidim, they got to the Asifa in time for the Mets vs. Padres game,” or “the first 10,000 fans to enter the stadium get a free Gadol Ha’Dor bobble-head doll.”

The Asifa also attracted a great deal of criticism, much of it I believe warranted. The organizers called themselves Ichud Ha’Kehillos and claimed that part of the goal of the event was to promote great achdus, unity, among the Jewish people. They emphasized that this event would reflect the great diversity of Torah Jews, but in fact, it only represented a specific slice of Orthodoxy as some groups of Chassidim didn’t join and certainly Yeshiva University’s Roshei Yeshiva and Poskim were not invited to participate.

Furthermore, some were critical of the fact that the entire gathering was designated for men only. If the Internet truly threatens the sanctity of the home, shouldn’t women, the guardians of the home, be in attendance in an event whose purpose is to strengthen our resistance to the Internet’s dangers?

The Satmar Rebbe and Rav Shmuel Kaminetzky, interestingly, shared another concern. The Torah observant community is indeed diverse and reflects different world outlooks, practices, community customs and norms. How could one event possibly speak to or lay down guidelines for a Chasid from Williamsburg, a Yeshiva Bochur from Lakewood, a Businessman from the Upper West Side and a Doctor from Teaneck? Each community needs to adopt it’s own approach to this issue and in the case of the Internet, one size simply does not fit all.

There are many other points of criticism, but I am not writing this column to sling arrows or shoot down the Asifa. Quite the contrary, no matter what you thought of it, there are still so many things to admire and learn from the community that organized and attended it and that is what I would like to share with you.

Firstly, it is simply remarkable how many people attended and that is not disputable. Not only did Citi Field which holds over 40,000 people sell out, the organizers then rented Arthur Ashe Stadium next door which has the capacity for another 22,000 people. I wonder if the leaders of Modern Orthodoxy announced a monumental gathering in NY to rally for Israel, reflect on the dangers of the modern world, or any other purpose, how many people would attend? Would our Modern Orthodox community show up with over 60,000 strong for almost any reason these days?

You may say, it is simple, Chareidim believe in Da’as Torah and the importance of being obedient to the leading Rabbis of the generation. Their Rabbis said to attend and the people responded. The Modern Orthodox community, however, is trained to think for themselves, practice autonomy and be independently minded. While I agree with the explanation, I wonder if perhaps our community would benefit from a little more admiration, respect and deference to the words and advice of our Modern Orthodox community’s greatest leaders and sages.

Secondly, we clearly disagree and reject the Asifa’s conclusion, that the Internet is categorically evil and has no place in our lives unless absolutely necessary for business. I see the Intenet like the telephone or electricity; it has the potential for great harm or for great good. How many divrei Torah have been downloaded, listened to or watched on the web, for example?

Yet, the Asifa is correct in raising the grave dangers an unfiltered and unrestrained use of the Internet presents. There is no doubt that the access to everything and anything that the Internet provides is a great seductive force in the lives of young people and adults alike. We should admire and indeed emulate the Asifa’s goal of encouraging people to struggle with maintaining sanctity in their homes and their lives.

Rejecting the Asifa’s solution should not mean dismissing the undeniable problem the Asifa raises – how to properly adopt technology into our lives in a meaningful, safe and productive way.

I hope that future Asifas will indeed include all segments of Klal Yisroel and will be designed to speak to serious Torah Jews, no matter what community they belong to. In the meantime, we would do a great service to ourselves if rather than cynically reject the Asifa or it’s organizers, we seek to extract that which we can admire from this event and indeed emulate the idea of gathering en masse, to grow and enrich our lives in meaningful ways.

Where are our Young People?

Things are rumored to slow down in South Florida after Pesach, but this past week and a half it certainly didn’t feel like it. Those who attended our annual Yom Ha’Shoah program were moved deeply by the incredible story of German born Dr. Bernd Wollschlaeger. At a young age, he discovered that his father was a Nazi who had received a medal from Hitler himself, and that he had Jewish blood on his hands. Bernd was drawn to learn more about Judaism, ultimately converted, moved to Israel where he served in the IDF and now lives right here in South Florida. If you missed it, I strongly encourage you to listen to his remarks on our website.

On Monday night, BRS hosted a critically important program about anti-Israel and anti-Semitic activities on college campuses, including a briefing about what happened locally at FAU. An impressively large crowd heard from a diverse, but unified array of speakers including Congressman Ted Deutch, a student leader from FAU, Joe Sabag of the ZOA, Scott Brockman of Hillel and our own Matt Weisbaum of jerusalemonlineu.com. The alarming short film “Crossing the Line: Intifada Comes to Campus” was shown and made the undeniably compelling case that we cannot afford to be apathetic or indifferent to the growing anti-Israel/anti-Semitic movement seeking to shape collegiate minds across the country.

While most people would describe these programs as smashing successes, in one regard they were a complete failure to me. Yes, the Rand Sanctuary at Boca Raton Synagogue was full at both events, but who occupied the seats? If you looked around at the Yom Ha’Shoah program and the Campus program you couldn’t help but notice two disturbing trends: Firstly, many attendees came from outside of the Shul. On the one hand, this is an incredible tribute to our reach and impact beyond our small “circle” of influence. However, the fact remains that of our close to 700 families, only a small fraction show up and can be counted at community events such as these. And secondly, of our own members who did attend, there was a terribly poor representation from young people.

On Wednesday, I had the honor of speaking to an audience that was comprised exclusively of young people when I addressed the students of WYHS at their Yom Ha’Zikaron program. I used the opportunity to share the story of Israeli hero, Major Roi Klein. Roi was born in 1975 and attended both elementary school and high school in Ra’anana. He was very involved in Bnei Akiva, first as a participant and later as a Madrich. After High School, Roi attended a Mechina in Eli to learn Torah and prepare for his Army Service. He was drafted into a brand new special unit called Egoz who trained for the unique fighting environment in Southern Lebanon. After his service, he married Sarah Sjalin, moved to Eli and had two sons Gilad and Yoav. Roi graduated from University magna cum laude, while at the same time pursuing his Torah learning for hours each day.

In the summer of 2006, the Israel Defense Forces entered a second Lebanon war in an effort to put a halt to the rocket fire into Northern Israel. Roi and his battalion were called upon given their training specifically in this type of warfare. They had been entrusted with a difficult mission, namely to capture the Hizbullah capital, Bint Jbeil. On the first day of Av, one day before Roi’s Hebrew birthday, at 5:00am, Roi sent an advance platoon to seize a certain house. It turned out that a Hizbullah terrorist was lying in wait and shot the platoon commander. Roi and his men advanced despite being shot at, in order to evacuate their man. As they were removing the injured soldier on a stretcher, Roi suddenly noticed a handed grenade that landed right next to him. There was not enough time to evacuate the area, and it was impossible to throw the grenade far enough to minimize the damage.

In a split second, Roi did something extraordinary. He threw himself on top of the grenade, absorbed the entire explosion and prevented all of his soldiers from being struck. He was mortally wounded and remained alive only for a few moments. He used his final minute to radio his commander to report his own impending death. The final words on his lips were the loud declaration – “Shema Yisroel, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad.”

Roi Klein’s story is extraordinary and one can’t help but hearing it and wondering, what would I have done? But Roi didn’t have the luxury of just wondering and he didn’t have the time to actually make a decision. He didn’t analyze or calculate what to do, time didn’t allow it. He simply acted in a heroic way because that is what his intuition and instinct demanded. He loved the Jewish people, the Jewish homeland and the Jewish Torah with all of his being and when the moment arrived, he didn’t need to think, he just did.

Most of us will never find ourselves in a position like Roi Klein. It is unlikely that we will be asked to make the most supreme sacrifice for our people, giving our very life, leaving our wife a widow or our children as orphans. However, in a much smaller way and on a much smaller scale, every one of us face moments in which we are called upon to show up, be counted, raise our voices and make a difference on behalf of our people.

When we gather to recognize and honor survivors of the Holocaust who have maintained their faith, their joy and rebuilt their lives, it makes a difference if YOU show up. When we gather as a community in response to threatening flyers and hateful words against our homeland and our people, it makes a difference if YOU show up. Not only is the media watching, our enemies are watching, the community at large is watching, and I would argue Hashem is watching to see how much we truly care. We reach out and daven to Hashem with our words, and we daven to Hashem by taking initiative and acting.

Roi Klein made himself count by his willingness to sacrifice his life. In contrast, we are asked to make ourselves count by an infinitely smaller sacrifice, our time and our effort. Is it too much to ask to rearrange our schedule, get a babysitter, or record our must see TV? Do we not find a way to get out on a weeknight for many much less important things?

In a few weeks, on Yom Yerushalayim, our community will come together once again. We have spent 2,000 years davening 3 times a day yearning to return to our Holy City. It is our generation that has merited to see the beginning of the fulfillment of those prayers. Could anything be more important than bringing our families and our community together to say thank you to Hashem and to tell the world that Yerushalayim must always remain the undivided capital of the Jewish people?

When we gather to celebrate Yerushalayim, and when we hold future community events, think of Roi Klein and answer the call by showing up, we need YOU!

Let My People Go!

(This post has been redacted to eliminate the names of the people involved in the story below.)

“Let my people go!” This refrain, introduced by Moshe in Egypt when he appealed to Pharaoh to liberate the Jewish people from bondage, has not only been referenced throughout Jewish history, but has been embraced by multiple peoples and cultures around the world in campaigns against injustice. In our time, I can vividly remember chanting “let my people go!” as a child, together with thousands of others, as we rallied on behalf of Soviet Jewry.

Who would have ever dreamt that today, the year 2012/5772, essentially the only people we need to address with the demand “let my people go,” are a small group of Jews themselves. As we enter the holiday of Pesach, a time characterized by freedom, liberty and emancipation, I implore you to think about a group whom remain shackled and in chains, and on whose behalf we must demand “let my people go!” I am referring to the tragic circumstance of Agunos.

An Agunah is a chained woman whose husband has not given her a Get, a Jewish legal divorce, and therefore she is unable to remarry or move on with her life. In Talmudic times, the tragic status of Agunah was attained when a woman’s husband went off to war or on a faraway business trip and his whereabouts became unknown. More recently, this horrific reality has been cast on women electively by their recalcitrant husbands who use the Get as a weapon and tool to extort, manipulate or just plain torture their wives.

Recently, the case of Tamar Epstein has become very high profile. Tamar’s husband Aharon refuses to give her a get despite their civil divorce being final and the instruction of Beis Din to do so. National media have covered this story because Aharon is a congressional staffer for Congressman Dave Camp from Michigan. Pressure has been placed on the Congressman not to employ a man who violates human dignity and performs an egregious injustice, but unfortunately, the Congressman has thus far refused to get involved.

Much less profile, but a lot closer to home, is the recent case of ——– ——– right here in South Florida. Her husband, ——–, cooperated with the civil divorce which has been finalized for months, but refuses to grant her a get. She took him to the Beth Din of America and ——– was given his day in court to explain his inactions. The Beis Din concluded that ——–‘s excuses were not valid and that he must give a get immediately. He has refused and so the Beis Din issued a Seruv, a proclamation, essentially asking Jewish communities to shun ——– and distance themselves from him until he cooperates.

——– came to me asking for help feeling abandoned by the Jewish community who have expressed no outrage and offered little to no help or support as she suffers in this limbo status and is tortured by a manipulative man. I began by contacting ——– and gently and without judgment, offered to help coordinate the giving of the get as per the Beis Din’s instructions. Suffice it to say my offer, both on voice mail and in email, was not only rejected, but ——– began a campaign to malign and defame me, including emails to our Congressman and others.

I have begun to publicize ——–‘s recalcitrance on Twitter, Facebook and in emails to the Rabbis of South Florida. I have contacted ——–‘s employer to let him know that if ——– does not sign the get by the end of Pesach, we will begin to organize rallies outside the business that employs him. I hope and pray that ——– will do the right thing so that he and ——– can go on with their lives in peace and prosperity. But should he hesitate and delay, it has been made clear to him that the BRS community and I will do everything within the American law and halacha that we can to encourage him to sign a get.

Many are puzzled how the Agunah phenomenon can exist in our modern era. Can’t the Rabbis find a solution? Can’t we simply annul the marriage or give her a get on his behalf without his cooperation? The subject is complex and complicated and unfortunately, solutions are not that simple. Agunah is an example of what the Rav described as a time that we throw our hands in the air and submit our understanding to the will and laws of the Almighty.

But it occurs to me, that while we must submit our understanding and accept Hashem’s laws, we don’t need to be apathetic or indifferent to bringing about the desired result. Why do we get up to open the door for Eliyahu Ha’Navi at the Seder, can’t he just come down through the chimney or walk through walls? I once heard a magnificent explanation: Eliyahu is the harbinger of Moshiach, he heralds the arrival of redemption. If you want redemption, you can’t just sit comfortably in your chair or reclining on your couch. You need to minimally get up out of your seat and do something, even if it is just opening the door.

Hashem cannot want Agunos any more than we do, but their existence provides us with an opportunity to be His partner in bringing salvation. Tragic cases like Tamar Epstein and ——– ——– challenge us to see if we will remain in our seats and on the couch, or get up and do something to bring redemption.

I am confident that when Pesach ends, if rallies must be held, you will answer the call and our community will show up in a tremendous display of support to proclaim to Aharon and ——– – Let my people go!

Chag Sameach

What are You Doing to Heal the Divide?

Eleven Rabbis from across North America gathered in Boca this week for a day and a half of meetings, under the auspices of the Orthodox Union. The Legacy Group, as we have affectionately been titled by OU leadership, convenes twice a year to discuss and compare what is happening in our communities, commiserate over challenges, share best practices and inspire one another to collectively confront some of the ills that plague our people.

A theme that emerged from our conversation was the horrible disunity, discord and divide among the Jewish people from all directions. The left is just as intolerant of the right as the right is of them. Those that define themselves as the center are often dismissive of anyone unlike them. A famous comedian once observed, “Anyone driving slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac.” For many a similar description applies to their religious orientation and practice.

How can we close the gaps that are dividing our people? How can we heal the wounds of marginalization that have hurt so many individuals and communities? How can we restore the feeling of achdus, unity and harmony that characterized the moment of receiving the Torah described in this week’s parsha?

The Legacy Group came to a simple conclusion: One on one interpersonal relationships, friendships and bonds. You see, it is easy to dismiss, demonize and reject whole groups, philosophies or lifestyles. It is much more difficult to speak negatively and critically of someone with whom you share a rapport.

If we are to heal our people, we must get so called “right wing” Roshei Yeshiva to sit and talk with “YU” Roshei Yeshiva. We must reach out to colleagues from Reform, Conservative and Liberal Orthodoxy to build warm, personal relationships around what we share in common. If the leaders at the top can get to know one another and feel a kinship together, we can put a stop to hurtful proclamations and statements that serve to divide, and replace them with encouragement and efforts to unite.

Indeed, it was this motivation that two weeks ago led me to a decision that I am so happy I made. Rabbi Richard Agler, who recently retired as the Sr. Rabbi of Congregation B’nai Israel , a Reform Congregation, suffered a terrible tragedy when a car struck and killed his 27 year old daughter as she was jogging. To be honest, I don’t have a particularly close relationship with the Aglers. In light of his recent retirement, we will unlikely overlap in a professional capacity moving forward. However, despite the reasons to do nothing, I decided that the proper thing to do, if for no other reason than my role in the Orthodox community of Boca, was to pay a shiva call. And so, Rabbi Broide and I went to the Aglers’ home to simply communicate that we care, feel their pain and pray for their comfort.

The time we spent together and the inspiration Rabbi Broide and I received that day, were remarkable. I asked Rabbi Agler how this tragedy impacts his faith in the Almighty? As a Rabbi, he undoubtedly has spoken about bad things happening to good people, but now he has lived it.

His answer blew me away. He said, “My Judaism, my relationship with God and my faith are what empowered me to raise such a wonderful daughter and these values are what gave her life meaning and purpose. Why would I throw away the very things that made her so special, just because she was taken so prematurely and tragically? Faith allowed me to raise a special daughter, and faith will guide me through the tragedy of her death.”

At the end of the time we spent together, Rabbi Agler and I had the same observation. Why did it take a tragedy for us to spend some quality time together? The result of that interaction coupled with the discussion at the OU Legacy meetings is a renewed sense of commitment I feel to reach out to my colleagues in every direction and work to build genuine friendships and warms bonds.

Healing our people is not just the job of Rabbis, it is the responsibility of every caring Jew. Let’s work together to restore that feeling at Sinai, k’ish echad b’lev echad, one people with one heart.

Keep the Money Local

If I had a dollar for every email I received this week reminding me to recite the parshas ha’mann, as a segullah for parnassah, I would no longer need a parnassah. You see in this week’s parsha, the Torah describes the miraculous, supernatural manna that fell each day from heaven, providing the Jewish people their necessary nourishment as they journeyed through the desert. Many believe that if you simply say the words from our parsha describing this phenomenon specifically this week, your livelihood will be guaranteed, your portfolio will rise, that raise you have waited for will finally arrive and all kinds of blessings will flow.

Interestingly, this segullah, this association between saying parshas ha’mann and parnassah is found nowhere in the Talmud. Instead, our great Chazal endorsed a different segullah for earning parnassah. You may have never heard of it and tragically it isn’t nearly as practiced. It is much more difficult than saying words, and it requires personal sacrifice, compromise and generosity. Our Rabbis encouraged us that if we want parnassah, give tzedaka.

Giving tzedaka is not simple. How much? To whom? What are the priorities? The answer to these questions are complicated, complex and too lengthy for this space. So, instead of telling you to whom to give, allow me to share my personal opinion of who to avoid.

One sign the economy is recovering slightly is the recent proliferation of people coming to collect. Some go door to door asking. Some sit outside the shul and accost each person as they go by. And some have signs hung up around the community announcing they are here to consult, give blessings, dispense advice and actually ask you to come to them to have the honor of giving.

In my opinion, our response to them all should be the same – a nominal amount. We have incredible local needs and obligations including feeding 26 families on Tomchei Shabbos, a combined close to 3 million dollars of scholarships our school are giving out, our Mikvah, Eruv, supporting Outreach, and I haven’t even mentioned giving to BRS. Our first obligation and responsibility halachically and ethically is to give locally.

A young man shared with me this week, that when he went to receive a bracha from a visiting Rabbi, he was told at the conclusion of the warm wishes that for them to occur he needs to pledge 5% of his income to this Rabbi’s institutions for the rest of his life. Feeling hopeless and desperate for blessings in his life, he agreed. When I heard, I was outraged and encouraged him to go back to this “Rabbi,” give him a nominal amount and tell him that is all he will be getting.

Preying on vulnerable people, asking for large donations from those that can barely afford to cover their bills is contemptible, disgraceful and outrageous. It is unconscionable to ask people who are not paying their own children’s full tuition or their family’s full membership to the Shul to make a donation to sponsor a child in your yeshiva in Israel.

If we continue to be indiscriminate in whom we allow to solicit from our members, both in the Shul and in private homes, individuals will be hurt and so will the community as a whole. Rather than run for advice, promises and blessings from Rabbis who don’t share our hashkafa, know us, or our community, I strongly encourage you to embrace the bracha that comes from learning Torah from our own outstanding Roshei Yeshiva, Rabbis and guest scholars. Indeed, in my opinion, the greatest blessings flow from those that don’t want their pictures on posters, don’t ask for money in exchange, don’t make promises that only Hashem can guarantee and don’t tell you what to do without even knowing who you are.

This Sunday, we have the privilege of hosting one of the greatest Talmidei Chacham of our time, a Rosh Yeshiva whose guidance, wisdom and halachik input is sought after by thousands around the world, Rabbi Herschel Schachter. Rav Schachter is Rosh Yeshiva and Rosh Kollel of Yeshiva University and Halachik advisor for the OU. He will be speaking at 9:00 am on the topic of “Segullas, Superstition and Ayin Ha’Rah.”

If you are looking for a segullah for parnassah, absolutely say parshas ha’mann and recognize that our livelihood is no less miraculous or from Heaven than the man itself. But, don’t neglect our Rabbi’s advice of giving tzedaka generously and to the right places. Don’t neglect the greatest segullah and the greatest source of blessing known to man, the study of Torah, the performance of mitzvos and the pursuit of justice.

Shabbat Shalom

Opting In When Others Opt Out

I had the privilege of attending three brises this week, but only two of them were open to the public. Mazel tov to the Hilfs and Sugermans on welcoming their new sons into the covenant of Avraham Avinu. It is the third bris, though, the one which was only open to a select few, that I want to tell you about, as to me it was truly remarkable.

Early Wednesday morning, Rabbi Flug, Rabbi Weinstock of YI of Hollywood and I prepared for an unusual bris by donning our scrubs. You see, we are members of the S. Florida Beis Din for Geirus, the Rabbinical Court for Conversion, and we gathered in the operating room to witness the circumcision of a 17 year old boy who is converting to Judaism.

As we stood there, a recurring thought kept entering my mind. The effort, pain and even embarrassment this young man is willing to endure in order to take the totally unnecessary and unrequired step of becoming Jewish, is nothing short of extraordinary. In order to convert, in addition to a complete commitment to an observant life, both men and women must immerse in the mikvah and men require circumcision or if already circumcised, hatafas dam bris. As you can imagine, those that convert have displayed great courage, faith and tenacity.

Among the many conversions that I have participated in, this was the first in which an adult needed a complete circumcision. Though he received spinal anesthesia and pain killers following the procedure, the entire process of having this surgery and doing so in front of three Rabbis required a truly great resolve and conviction to want to be Jewish.

The other thought that struck me is the contrast between the level of desire and willingness to sacrifice to be an observant Jew of this teenager, and the boredom, disinterest and lack of conviction of so many of our “frum from birth” teenagers. This young man can’t imagine living his life and not having Shabbos, kashrus, or being part of the Jewish people and their destiny. And yet, many of our teenagers struggle to find Judaism relevant, compelling or worthy of sacrificing for. He lives in the same world of temptation, distraction, pop culture and alien values as they do. Why is he opting in, while so many of them seem to be standing on the brink of opting out?

This is a very complicated and difficult question and I am not so presumptuous to assume that I know the answer or can articulate it in this short message. But, I will provide one point of information as food for thought. Our teenage convert saw his parents convert. He watched them go through the process of learning, growing, sacrificing and committing. The significance and importance of Judaism has been modeled for him to the degree that he too was willing to endure difficult circumstances in order to have a taste of our Holy religion and people. Every day,when he looks at his parents, he sees two people willing to work hard, give up much and make the effort to live a richly Jewish and spiritual life.

When our teenagers look at us, what do they see? Do we model a willingness to sacrifice, do we exhibit great effort and determination and do we articulate why Judaism is so important to us and how badly we want it in our lives?

Our 17 year old convert is truly a student of Avraham Avinu who also at an advanced age endured a circumcision (without anesthesia and performed on himself) and elected to embrace a spiritual journey and meaningful way of life. Even if we were born Jewish or raised observant, it is never too late for us as well to be of the greatest disciples of Avraham Avinu through our renewed journey to opt in to Judaism and Hashem with great enthusiasm, commitment, courage and faith and thereby be a source of inspiration for the next generation and beyond.

Join Our Community