Wake Up Call

We're now in the times of Sefiras Ha'Omer; post-Pesach and pre-Shavuos. In the past, I've blogged about the always popular topic of "Sefirah Beards." This year I'm going to share a more personal revelation regarding another Sefirah related topic: Music.

Just to preface, I've been an A Capella-only during Sefirah guy for quite a few years now, ever since I learned about the customs of mourning observed during this time period. Recently, however, I had a literal wake up call that really got me thinking.

One morning, I lazily shut off the first of my several alarms required to get me on my feet to head to shul. I also snoozed the next two after that. The last one, which successfully had me up and going, kept repeating for a bit before I managed to find my cell phone and come to my senses.

Only then did I realize that my alarm was a snippet of a TV theme from a show that I happen to be a fan of. Flipping through my other pre-set alarms from earlier that morning, I noticed that they were also TV themes or songs I liked. In case you're already guessing, no, I'm not knocking watching TV (especially in moderation, as ASoG and I do online). What struck me was the fact that my morning alarm was MUSIC.

I remembered when I first returned from Israel, post Shana Aleph, and certainly during my years at YU following Shana Bet, how everything I used to do was very, for lack of a better term "b'kavanna." I used to think about my actions, even the most minute of them, and figure out how they related to my overall sense of religious identity and observance of Torah and mitzvos. I recalled how I specifically and very intentionally would change both my ring tone and my alarms/text sounds to non-musical selections during this time of year, as well as during the 3 Weeks. 

I'm ashamed to admit that I honestly can't recall what I did during the past 3 Weeks period from this past summer. However, since that recent morning,  I really "woke up" to how much my focus has changed since those times, freshly returned from Israel.

Don't get me wrong, I am not in any way advocating flip-out behaviors that many young men and women exhibit upon their return from the Holy Land. I am, as usual, pointing to certain grey areas that are worthwhile and beneficial. I don't advocate strictures or observances that impact negatively on others, but if there are little things that go the "extra mile" to remind you of what's really important, such as having a proper mindset during this time period of national mourning, then I think it's worth it. My wife will certainly not notice whether my alarms going on and off are musical or simply repeating beeps, alarm bells, or roosters crowing (she actually isn't such a fan of the last one, but it wakes me up). 

On a related note, it's about time I do something about needing multiple alarms to get me out of bed. I need to channel that inner lion in me to wake up with vigor and enthusiasm. 

A friend of mine once told me he heard Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl joke that he gets up every day like a lion... a tired lion is a lion, too!

Anyway, I'm sure we all have things we've become a little less conscious about, whether we went to Israel for one or two years - or not at all. In a time where we should be preparing to re-receive the Torah once again, it behooves all of us to do some self-examination and find these little (or not so little) things, become more aware of them, and live more conscious, thoughtful lives.

PS - School has been taking its toll of me as of late, hence the lack of regular postings. I can't promise that things will change, but I hope to be far less absent that I have been in recent weeks. Please bear with me, and I thank all the readers, both the new ones and the regulars, for continuing to visit during my absence.

Are Platonic Friends Possible?

Inspired by an interesting debate she witnessed, Tania over at Thinking Jew Girl asks readers if it is possible to have a close male-female relationship that has no potential for marriage, while both the guy and girl are actively dating other people.

I think the answer is no. That doesn't mean there aren't exceptions. But they are, in fact exceptions rather than the rule.

Case in point, "colloquiallyspeaking" replied that she had had such a guy friend who was beneficial in coaching her while she dated her husband, and now continues her friendship with him alongside her husband. While she concedes that adding physicality to the relationship can make things complicated, she adds that "a good emotional friendship is definitely possible and happens everywhere outside of the religious world."

I beg to differ, based on personal experience in secular academic institutions, as well as this completely objective and pseudo-scientific video that has been making the rounds on Youtube:

I think this video is very telling. As much women seemingly think platonic relationships with the opposite gender is possible, popular opinion from men seems to indicate the exact opposite.

From my own single experience from high school until marriage, I don't think I had female friends for whom I did not possess at least a small measure of attraction - even when the matter was openly discussed and the girl would adamantly say that she had no interest in anything other than a platonic relationship. I would certainly abide by her decision and keep things strictly platonic in terms of our interactions, but I couldn't deny that some residual feelings (or more) continued to dwell within me.

And that's the trap.

Can you honestly say that you could continue to be friends with a guy or girl, knowing they want no further development to that friendship, and successfully grapple with any ongoing feelings or spikes in attraction for him/her? That's very tough, to say the least.

I know I went through several cycles of waxing and waning of these troublesome feelings throughout my time in NCSY, while in Israel, and even at the start of my time at Yeshiva University. When I started dating, I was very aware of this distraction, and was reminded of this conflict by a married female friend (who was one of aforementioned single female friends) that I'd need to knock it off when it came to maintaining and cultivating female friendships while I was dating. And she was right. It made my life that much simpler, gave me greater focus, and allowed me to have success in my dating.

I'm reminded of an interesting observation that Rav Aharon Lichtenstein made during a Q & A session related to us by Rabbi Hayyim Angel. Someone asked Rav Lichtenstein if it was possible to have a platonic relationship, and Rav Lichtenstein, per his usual scholarly nature, went into a discourse explaining the true definition of a platonic friendship, which is actually between two men. I can't recall what Rabbi Angel said about Rav Lichtenstein's answer to the actual question, but I imagine he wasn't so encouraging.

Can anyone give an argument that demonstrates platonic male-female relationships are actually possible on a large scale instead of an exceptional minority?

Things I Don't Understand: Meta-Bathrooms

See this lovely picture on the left? No, it is not a photograph of the bathroom set up in our new apartment. In fact, it is a painting of a bathroom - a nicely decorated and organized bathroom, to be sure.

In fact, this picture, purchased at Homegoods by ASoG, is hanging IN the bathroom of our new apartment.

I don't get it. Why have we, and by we I mean Orthodox Jews, adopted a standard practice of

displaying art of bathrooms IN bathrooms?

I didn't grow up with this practice. My parents never had pictures of any sort hanging up in any of the bathrooms in their home, whether in any of our personal bathrooms or the guest bathrooms. Instead, we always had interesting wall paper which usually featured some sort of intricate design, or little artistic portrayals of scenes of a particular theme.

Since I have become more well-traveled, particularly in the New York area once I began attending YU, I saw art of bathrooms in almost every home I visited. For example, the bathrooms in President Richard Joel's presidential estate feature art of bathrooms in the bathrooms.

In truth, I did see this phenomenon in one place in my hometown - inside the local mikvah which I saw on my pre-Yomim Noraim visits. For some reason, this makes more sense to me than having bathroom paintings in a regular bathroom. But the point still remains:

Why do we do this?

What is the reason why we have this strange obsession with being meta-expressive by having bathrooms in bathrooms? It would be ridiculous if there were pictures of bathrooms in the pictures of bathrooms that we have in our bathrooms.

Per ASoG's insistence - and not that I really object, since I didn't have a better suggestion anyway - we've joined the bathroom art in bathroom club. She couldn't quite explain why this was the most appropriate form of art to display in out bathroom, but it is something that everyone else seems to do. I remain confused.

Can someone explain it to me?

Sarah, You've Got Some 'Splainin' To Do!

The episode of Sarah's laughter at overhearing the prophecy that she and Avraham will have a child in one year's time has always been perplexing. I'm sure many of the readers have heard numerous shiurim or read divrei Torah on the incident. While reviewing the second aliyah of this week's parsha Vayera for Shnaim Mikra v'Echad Targum, I noticed a few more wrinkles that doen't make sense to me.

Here's the scene. HaShem is visiting Avraham, who is recovering from his recent circumcision. Avraham looks up, sees three men, leaves HaShem to go greet them and arrange for food to be prepared for his unexpected guests. They ask him where Sarah his wife is (I guess he told them her name already, or they knew beforehand because Avraham and Sarah were famous), and Avraham replies, "Behold! In the tent!"

The man talking to Avraham informs him that he's going to return again in a year and Sarah will have given birth to a son. The next posuk tells us that Sarah is eavesdropping in on the conversation at the entrance of the tent, which is located behind "him," which I guess means Avraham, who had been going in and out to bring the dishes of food. In a narrative verse, the Torah tells us that Avraham and Sarah were old, Sarah had entered menopause.

Sarah apparently thinks this well-wisher and his blessing are funny, and laughs at herself/within herself/at her insides (depending on the translation) and wonders aloud if it's possible that though she has withered, she'll once again have "smooth skin," or resume menstruating (both per Rashi) and thus be able to conceive and bear a son. She also mentions her husband/lord is old.

Out of nowhere, HaShem, Who had seemingly been "absent" from the ongoing discussion (is G-d ever not there?) joins the conversation and asks Avraham why Sarah laughed, and famously alters what she actually said, omitting her seemingly slightly offensive remark about her husband to "Is it even true that I shall give birth, though I have aged?" HaShem proclaims that nothing is beyond His abilities, and says now that He will return in a year and Sarah will have a son.

Parenthetically, did you notice the sudden change from what the visitor said to HaShem saying the same thing? I think it's at this point that we can infer that the men who happened to stop by are implied to be angels. Though some commentators claim they were normal men - and according to Rashi, perhaps Avraham still thought so too - by combining this interjection by HaShem, along with their foreboding gaze toward Sodom (18:16) and departure for Sodom (18:22) following HaShem's revelation of His plan to Avraham, it seems to be somewhat overtly indicated that they are more than what they appear to be.

Anyway, after HaShem tells Avraham of Sarah's laughter and alters her words for the sake of Shalom Bayis (as Rashi says in 18:13), Sarah appears in the main tent, no longer hiding and denies laughing, which the narrative posuk tells us was because she was afraid.

Finally, the Torah writes, "וַיֹּאמֶר לֹא, כִּי צָחָקְתְּ" - "and he said, 'No, but you laughed'" (18:15).

WHO said that? According to the Artscroll translation, the pronoun "he" from "and he said" is lowercase, implying Avraham (which makes more sense than the speaking male visitor).

Is it just me, or does this whole scene sound like an episode of, l'havdil, "I Love Lucy?" Sarah/Lucy gets caught red handed, so-to-speak as HaShem / l'havdil Fred tells Avraham/Ricky. Avraham/Ricky turns to his wife as she vehemently denies it, knowing that she really did it, despite her denial and affirms that she did, indeed laugh.

Cue the audience laugh-track.

Did Avraham hear Sarah laugh because her laughter was quite loud and unique? Or is he saying that, "Well, if G-d says you laughed, sweetheart, and you deny it, I'm going with G-d on this one"?

It all seems strange to read the flow of the conversation that way,.

The JPS translation has the English version of the posuk written with a capital "He," meaning HaShem addresses Sarah and replies that she did, in fact, laugh. This makes a little more sense to me, since HaShem certainly did "hear" her laugh (how could He not, being G-d and everything?) and had just informed Avraham of that occurrence.

Now back in our crazy sitcom version, HaShem / l'havdil Fred turns to the embarrassed Sarah/Lucy and wags a finger at her saying, "Oh, yes you did!" Again, cue the laugh-track as Sarah/Lucy makes that famous grimace we all know and love.

It all seems a little strange. Even without the Nick-at-Nite references, HaShem "appears" out of nowhere, Sarah gets admonished, and we cut back to Avraham with his guests. Did Sarah just slink away, happy that she will have a baby but a bit embarrassed at the scene that just transpired?

Another thought, somewhat related thought.

At the end of last week's parsha of Lech Lecha, when HaShem first tells Avraham that he will have a child with Sarah, Avraham himself falls on his face laughing. He says "Will a hundred year old have a child? And Sarah, who is ninety, give birth?"

Avraham's response seems very similar to Sarah's. Each wonders with incredulity that he/she could possibly sire/give birth to a child because of their advanced age, and then remarks that his/her wife/husband is elderly. Granted, the terminology is not exactly the same. Avraham just uses their ages, while Sarah mentions her menopausal state and that Avraham is old. But is that really so much more offensive? Especially given HaShem's critique of Sarah, when He proclaims that nothing is beyond His abilities.

The Artscroll Stone Chumash quotes the Kotzker Rebbe who says that though Sarah truly believed her laughter was in good spirit, there was some real subconscious doubt deep within her mind. There's also the vort I heard Rav Goldvicht quote from the a Sefas Emes that viewed Sarah's denial in a better light. However, I can't recall anyone ever saying that Avraham's response was negative in any way.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to besmirch the reputation of our holy forefather, I just don't quite understand the inherent difference regarding the level of laughing disbelief expressed by Avraham and Sarah.

Any thoughts, comments, or suggestions on these parsha musings?

P.S. As many readers know, I am quite fond of Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks and his writings. His "Covenant and Conversation" from last week on Lech Lecha is simply fantastic. His essay the week before that on Noach also discussed a fascinating interpretation of the Tower of Bavel and the languages getting mixed up that I had never heard before.

Commemorating Your "Own" Yartzeit

The experience of looking up on a memorial plaque during davening and noticing your own name, exactly matched in both Hebrew and English, with a little light bulb lit up next to it, along with and engraved date of death can be a little unsettling.

I knew my namesake's yartzeit was coming up soon, but the exact date slipped my mind amid all the busy running around from Yom Tov and delving back into work at grad school. I was genuinely surprised when I noticed the small light bulb glowing this morning after I finished Shemonah Esrei.

It's hard to describe the exact feeling that coursed through me, but chilling may have to do. Though I've heard many stories and learned various bits of information about the concept of gilgulim, or 'reincarnated' souls (for lack of a better term), I'm not 100% sure what I understand or believe. The notion of naming a child for a deceased relative, as is the Ashkenazi practice, seems to incorporate some aspect of gilgul, in addition to the more mundane belief of serving as a merit for the family member who has passed on and a living reminder of their legacy.

My great uncle - my paternal grandfather's older brother - though not a particularly religiously observant man, was a pediatrician, fought in World War II, and was one of the first white doctors in my hometown to treat minorities, often at reduced cost or for free. He was well known in the general community, in addition to the Jewish community, and I have often been "recognized" waiting in line at the pharmacy by an elderly person looked at me with a confused expression and informed me happily that my namesake was their pediatrician back in the day.

I was once at a local hospital signing in for a blood test when the nurse filling in my data suddenly stopped. She reread the information on the screen, turned to me, and asked if I was 90-something years old. I realized that the hospital had never properly declared my great-uncle dead, and quickly explained to her that I was indeed the 20-odd years I looked.

After noticing the lit bulb, I quickly walked over to a family friend, who is of my father's generation, and asked him if he would say kaddish for my great-uncle, who was this man's own pediatrician in his childhood. I figured it would be more meaningful than asking the fellow sitting next to me, who could say kaddish since his parents have passed away, merely out of convenience. The family friend graciously agreed.

I stood nearby whenever he recited the kaddish, and sensed some strange aura of fulfillment answering him. I have no idea, even if the concept of gilgul is readily applicable in our day and age, if there was some aspect of my neshama responding to the kaddish being said for my namesake. It certainly felt something akin to what I just described, but who can know for sure?

I can only hope that my own actions, including my study of Torah and observance of mitzvos, which exceed the level of religious practice of my great-uncle, can serve as an aliyah for his neshama in the Olam HaEmes.

Abolish The Death Sentence? I Think Not.

GREY AREA ALERT

The world has been following the story of Troy Davis, a man convicted and executed for the murder of an off-duty police officer back in 1989. Protests have been going on around the country - and world - in an effort to save his life, but the Supreme Court of the state of Georgia followed the United States Supreme Court denied those requests, and Davis was executed via lethal injection last night.

The world is now up in arms over a the government instituted execution of a man purported to be innocent based on recent retractions and alternate claims that cropped up in the last few years after he was originally convicted. I honestly don't know which side to believe, since both seem to make good points, but I can say that I felt a chill race down my spine as I read his reported final words last night.

"(Davis) made a statement in which he said... 'Despite the situation you're in, (I) was not the one who did it.' He said he was not personally responsible for what happened that night, that he did not have a gun. He said to the family that he was sorry for their loss, but also said that he did not take their son, father, brother.

"He said to them to dig deeper into this case, to find out the truth. He asked his family and friends to keep praying, to keep working, to keep the faith. And then he said to the prison staff, the ones he said 'are going to take my life,'...'May G-d have mercy on your souls,' and his last words to them (were), 'May G-d bless your souls."

Scary, huh? At any rate, it certainly makes one wonder.

The world is outraged and many are calling for the abolishment of the death penalty. They say that no one deserves to suffer such cruel punishment, certainly not a potentially innocent man. But what about criminals who really do deserve to be permanently removed from society, such as this racist from Texas name Laurence Russel Brewer, who was also executed yesterday.

Note the huge disparity between the comments on the two pages about execution.

If execution is unfitting for everyone, then yes, it should be abolished. But if it serves a purpose, as a deterrent to potential violent and fatal crimes, then it should exist and continue to be applied as judicially appropriate. The question for Troy Davis was, did he actually commit the crime he was charged of? Had he been executed when he was originally convicted, I doubt the world would be as stirred up, if at all, as it is now. Would the EU foreign policy chief Catherine Ashton have said "The abolition of that penalty is essential to protect human dignity" about Brewer? Almost all the comments on articles discussing his execution can be summed up as "why didn't this happen sooner?" and "he should have been killed like his victim, chained up and dragged behind a truck!"

As Jews, we can't ignore these sorts of things, since they can, and do affect us as well. Anyone remember the execution of Martin Grossman last February? The charedi response there was ridiculous - a chillul HaShem - as the sister of the ranger Grossman killed basically says in the video interview there. I couldn't find an article on CNN, but all the Jewish websites and blogs covered it quite extensively, and almost all were outraged at the idea of a Jew being killed by a secular government. I still don't understand why a convicted killer deserved such protest, even if he was Jewish and even if he did do teshuva, as some reported.

And what of poor Lieby Kletzky's vicious murderer, Levi Aron? The evidence is there. Should he be put to death? I tend to think he should - as should any other proven murderer. There is capital punishment in the Torah for a reason, as it says in several locations, to "remove evil from our midst." If we, as a world society, decided to abolish the enforcement of the death penalty, our already problematic laundry list of annual violent crimes would increase exponentially, and we'd all be in a lot of trouble.

If a person contemplating killing another person weighs out the options he has within his free will - to kill the person who wronged him, who he hates for whatever reason, or for the mere horrific 'thrill' of doing so, and thus be rid of that person forever, while ending up in a secure facility where he will be fed, clothed, and given TV etc for the rest of his life, all at the expense of the tax payers - or to live the life he does now, with the same person causing trouble or grief for him, a life that may already have other troubles from debt, relationships, unemployment, drugs, whatever (a lot of these things seem to go together) - what would he seriously choose?

If there is no deterrent to such heinous acts, what is there to stop such a person from exacting revenge, spilling blood, and going on to live the out his days in moderate comfort for free? If we decide that no one should die for their crimes, no matter how horrible they are, what reason will there be for anyone to ever not commit such atrocities when the opportunity arises? Throw serious consequences out the window, and let's see what happens...

I'm sure some readers are thinking, as I have, that even in the halachic system it was very hard to properly convict a murderer - which required two witnesses to the act who warned the killer beforehand, saw him acknowledge their warning, and carried out the killing anyway. In my limited experience (I haven't learned Shas after all) of learning Gemara, I've seen discussions where Chazal went out of their way to make sure a potentially innocent man wasn't put to death by intensive questioning of witnesses that often led them to trip up.

But there was also the concept of kipa, discussed on Sanhedrin 81B wherein Beis Din would punish a criminal they were convinced was guilty but lacked the required witnesses. They'd lock the person in a cell, starve him, then feed him barley bread until his stomach burst.

Clearly, Chazal knew that executing a violent criminal, or sinner deserving of capital punishment, was a worthy pursuit. So why does the world at large seem to forget this? Without the threat of punishment, why would anyone consider not committing a murder? With all the news coverage of cases where alleged killers are either exonerated, or at worst, sentenced to life in prison, what's to stop a young person watching the broadcast from getting inspired to attempt a similar act in the future, should the circumstances become valid in their eyes? There are far too many problems with today's youth (of all races) in underserved and overpopulated areas with drugs, pregnancies, theft and other crimes, many of which go unnoticed or unpunished, to provide yet another harmful outlet for their frustration and anger at their lot in life.

What the world needs is effective punishment where criminals do not enjoy the finer things in life, such as free housing, food, cable TV, workout rooms, etc in jail - for those who truly deserve the death penalty. We shouldn't be dragging out such cases for 20+ years before finally deciding to execute a criminal, because that distances the punishment from the crime, and gives people a chance to feel bad for someone who deserves to answer to justice for their wrongful actions.

We humans are often weak when it comes to our emotions. That's why we often give into the urge to sin or hurt others. It is also why we can be manipulated into believing falsehoods as crafty individuals pull our heartstrings, forcing grey into arenas that can be, or were, more starkly defined as white and black.

With all the other negative things going on in this world, including such sad things as horrible conflict within our own people in our own land, and with morality quickly going down the drain in so many different and frightening ways, I hope humanity can get a grip on itself before we sink into moral anarchy.

I've had enough of all this...We need Moshiach now.

The Year(s) In Israel: Good, Bad, Ugly?

Chana’s husband Heshy recently posted a note on Facebook that briefly touches upon an issue I know Chana has already discussed quite thoroughly: the year in Israel. As someone who did not attend a seminary before starting Stern College, and who is firmly rooted in halacha, I have always found Chana’s perspective to be unique and very much worth listening to.

I attended a yeshiva in Israel for two complete years before I entered Yeshiva University. My experience was very positive overall, with a few bumps along the way that I would attribute to either my personal relationships or the often kind of crazy group of guys I ended up going to yeshiva with.

As a ba’al teshuva originally coming from a very traditional, though not entirely halachically observant background, I imagined I would be behind the curve with regard to my learning skills, religious observance, and other areas. I was honestly shocked beyond shocked at the behavior, language, and general demeanor of the majority of guys I encountered when I began Shana Aleph. These young men were products of the major yeshiva high schools (co-ed and not) in North America, which, due to my complete ignorance of such institutions, made me think they’d also be serious about learning and growing, being open minded toward deepening their already firm religious commitments and personal hashkafos.

Boy, was I wrong. As I learned, it turned out that so many of the big-named Jewish high schools out there were very unsuccessful at making sure the guys who went there were truly observant, enjoyed learning, and developed toward adulthood. I’m not pointing fingers at the school as the only factor in the issues that plague teenagers (male and female) across the Modern Orthodox world, but I certainly think these schools are a major factor, along with inattentive/overly lax parents, peer pressure, and the secular media.

Anyway, my intention in this post isn’t to bash Modern Orthodox high school education or the students or parents that are a part of this system. Rather, I want to focus on what I have seen and experienced, while in Israel through my time at YU until the present, that suggests the year in Israel isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, or that it just isn’t obligatory for every single kid out there.

Based on my rather positive experience in Israel, I used to be of the mindset that everyone had to go, or at least should go to Israel for a year (or two) post high school. After seeing a few friends attend my yeshiva after starting off somewhere else, it seemed like everyone had a yeshiva/seminary they could attend, it’s just a matter finding which one is the right fit. Certainly going to the wrong yeshiva can be detrimental, but with the multitude of options out there, there had to be some particular school that fit every personality, right?

As it turns out, it’s not so simple.

I heard Dr. Pelcovitz quote that there is strong evidence from research done on high school students who attend a yeshiva or seminary in Israel that there is a subset of teenagers who should never have gone in the first place. Something like 10-15% if I recall, but don’t quote me on the numbers. These students tend to degrade and become less religious and connected to Judaism because of their experience, basically having the total opposite effect that they and perhaps their parents had intended when sending them on that El Al plane to Ben Gurion.

I never had any real issues or negative encounters with rabbeim, as some people I know (or personally witnessed) did. These students probably fell into this group Dr. Pelcovitz mentioned, and were either in the wrong yeshiva, or perhaps in the wrong country entirely. I personally observed a few individuals who were, by nature, rather inquisitive and not so willing to listen to or accept anything the rabbis told them. I’m not in any way suggesting that this is a fault on their part, because I have no right to judge them or say they have a corrupted mindset that wouldn’t allow them to experience a religiously defining experience. However, they probably shouldn’t have been there in the first place, because their personal netiyah was not of the sort that would benefit from the format of current yeshivas in Israel. I don’t think they necessarily disliked rabbis or Judaism, but I do think that this manner of study and the environment they found themselves in were not the best conditions for their personal growth and investment in what Judaism and being observant of mitzvos really meant to them.

I guess you could say I was one of the “success stories” who came to Israel looking to learn, grow, and further solidify by Jewish identity. I saw other students (few in number) who had similar mindsets, while most of the guys eventually came around and benefitted tremendously from their yeshiva experience did not arrive with those intentions whatsoever. They were happy to be away from their parents, came to Israel because it was the thing to do, and perhaps pondered the notion that they might get something out of it. When the time was right, when their minds and hearts were open, they found their niche and successfully developed it over the course of one or two years in Israel.

Then there are the “flip outs.” Some students go to Israel seeking to flip out for one reason or another, and for some students it happens to just grab them and never let go. In either case, I personally would like to make the distinction between those who honestly discover their true “calling” as it were, and those who devolve into a cult-like relationship with their Judaism and rabbeim.

I firmly believe that there are supposed to be specific individuals (I say individuals, because Chazal have many quotes about these people, and they call them “yechidim”) who should be learning Torah 24/7, and who then become our next generation of teachers, rabbeim, rosh kollels, poskim, and gedolei hador. But, they are few and far between. However those people get to be where they need to be is irrelevant, but hopefully they will catch the opportunity to maximize their potential and fulfill their divinely ordained role in this world for the betterment of all of klal Yisrael.

While this process can often be shocking to their parents, family, and friends, I think (and have seen) that those who are truly honest and level-headed about becoming more “yeshivish” or whatever you want to call it, will find ways to gracefully handle the transformation and how it affects those near and dear to them. As one of my rabbeim told me in a pre-Pesach shiur for guys going back for bein hazmanim, for every chumra out there halacha also has a legitimate kulah that is perfectly acceptable. One should strive to find the proper balance between his personal observances and the needs and sensitivities of those around him, especially parents, and it is far better to be maykil, and know that you are personally fulfilling halacha, than to stick to your guns about a chumra and stir up trouble back home. The cost of losing or estranging a person’s relationship with his parents (in particular), family, and friends isn’t worth the chumra that you’re forcing down their throats.

Realistic, rational people consider this approach and utilize it to the maximum. They are sensitive and caring toward their fellow Jews, aware of how their actions might upset or disturb someone, and do their very best to maintain their higher level of observance while simultaneously continuing to nurture their connections to those who matter most to them. Sure, everyone makes mistakes, and it can take time to show that despite your “change” (which may include appearance, actions, speech, etc) you are serious in your new commitments to Judaism, find great meaning and fulfillment in them, and still truly care about those around you and how your new mode of life can affect them.

These are the types of more right-winged “yeshivish” people I think are worthy of admiration and respect. To them, their new hashkafos and observances are real, which they achieved through self introspection, along with guidance from rabbeim and mentors – but primarily because they chose to want to live this way, not because they were told or forced to.

That leads me into the second category – those who “flip out” because they are under the impression, whether self motivated, or directly told by certain rabbeim, teachers, or mentors, that this is the proper and only way for a Jew to live. That anything else is meaningless, not frum, and anyone who doesn’t live this way can be lumped together with groups like the Reform and Conservative, who have legitimately done far more harm than good for our global Jewish community. These are the people who march triumphantly back to America, and instead of applying their growth in Judaism to real-world situations, flout their previous lives under the banner of being “frum.”

In the process of gallivanting around in their new “frum” trappings, spouting off “Baruch HaShem’s” and “Bli Neders” in an unrestrained and thoughtless fashion – as though it were obligatory to end every sentence with such aphorisms, they begin to distance themselves from their parents and loved ones – either intentionally, or as a result of their behavior. They radiate arrogance, despite the fact that they claim to be humble, righteous and devoted to their religion. They seem to forget that parents, even not-religious, or not-as-religious parents are absolutely worth every notion of respect, and worse, they seem to worship the rabbeim and mentors that got them to make this transformation.

Suddenly, the person you knew, who was once at least individualistic enough to think for him/herself now has to ask their rebbi a shayla about every single thing that happens in their lives – and take their advice (it’s not always about psak) as l’havdil, the word of G-d. Meaningful discussion about the wealth and breadth of Jewish haskhafa and differing viewpoints becomes insignificant next to the power of their rebbe’s/teacher’s words. It becomes a duty to “educate” others to become like they are, and exactly like they are, instead of encouraging others around them to grow on their own and find their hashkafic niche within Torah observant Judaism.

I personally think that these individuals, like the first category Dr. Pelcovitz talked about, should probably never have gone to Israel in the first place. Sometimes these young men and women do need further guidance and the opportunity to grow – and thus attending a yeshiva or seminary, or perhaps pursuing focused Judaic studies with a rebbe or institution in America will be necessary – and I firmly think everyone has to discover their needs in these areas. However, some people, who were fine and had a proper serious approach with their previous religious observance, only become corrupted in this fashion when exposed to more right-wing sentiment, because they aren’t strong enough to resist and think for themselves. Some become convinced on their own while others get caught up in the fervor of a dynamic rebbe who becomes their sole link to “authentic” observant Judaism. In both instances thoughtful logic and tact get thrown out the window in favor of a my-way-or-the-highway mentality, which can only, and does, lead to conflict.

I think that this is the major reason for the “flip out” crisis that faces so many Orthodox families today.

I believe it is wrong to teach someone that there is only one “correct” way to be observant of Torah and Mitzvos within the context of proper halachic observance. Halacha is halacha, but there are chumros and kulos, and there are certainly a plethora of hashkafic fashions in which a person can conduct his/her life within the greater umbrella of halacha, which isn’t more proper or acceptable than any other. I personally find many things to respect in all the hashkafos out there, and I also have critiques of each viewpoint – because none of them are perfect. Each has its own positive, neutral, and negative elements, and it is up to the individual to determine where he or she best fits in after much soul-searching and exploration. This doesn’t mean that someone has to do anything differently from their parents, as long as they find that meaningful, but if there is something spiritually lacking in how they were raised, then it is that person’s prerogative to find out where they need to be to best serve G-d throughout their lives.

This means that every person has his/her own individual levels of Torah study, chesed, tzedaka, leadership, communal involvement, teaching others, etc. As long as they are within the realm of halacha as determined by own established mesora, no one should have a right to look down on anyone for being different from them in nuances of their lives. I remember a pair of shiurim I heard in Israel about Yom Ha’atzma’ut, one given by a more chareidi rabbi and the other by a da’ati leumi rabbi – and the da’ati leumi rabbi emphasized that although they disagree about how to approach Yom Ha’atzma’ut, they agree on the other 99% of halacha (the issue was hallel with a bracha or not). That is how Jews are supposed to be – all different, yet similar to one another in our obligation to halacha.

Teenagers who are otherwise level-headed and observant, but cannot withstand the pressures and influence of right wing teachers should either go to a different yeshiva/seminary, or not go to Israel, just as the students who get totally turned off to Judaism should explore other options that best suit their individual needs. I think it would be far better to remain more stationary in their identity – though certainly maturing through further Jewish education in some form – than become so “religious” that they close their mind to everyone they know and place all their faith in one teacher.

Being so dependent upon a single individual, no matter how great he or she might be, is not what Judaism is about. We don’t believe in infallibility, that’s for Catholics. Yet, I’ve seen too many young men and women voluntarily (seemingly) give up their free-will so that they can be “frum” and will ask a shayla for every little thing in their lives.

This especially applies to marriage and dating, when this sort of cult-like sickness can alienate parents from children who choose to follow a rebbe’s advice against anything their parents say. It’s one thing to want to live a more observant lifestyle than your parents may have initially wanted for you – that will inevitably happen for children who experience a greater quantity and quality of Jewish education than their parents – but that can be handled in a respectful fashion where hurt feelings can be avoided. It’s entirely another thing to disregard the words of the people who gave birth to you, raised you, and know you far better than any rebbe whose shiur you attended for a year or two – despite the religious differences – and only have your best concerns at heart. As much as an influential teacher/rebbe may claim to care or actually care about you, the two are completely incomparable.

Specifically related to how one dates, who one dates, the length of dating/courtship, who one talks to while dating, as well as the length of engagement are all hot-button topics for these sorts of people. Parents often don’t “get” what their kids are doing, and the kids very often don’t give their parents the time of day to properly, methodically, and respectfully explain their beliefs and what their intentions are. Too many resort to subterfuge, telling some details but not the important ones, in an attempt to make their parents feel at ease with the process, which will only shift into crisis mode when they suddenly show up with a young man or lady and tell their parents that they’re getting engaged.

To me, this is the ultimate chutzpah. Perhaps it stems from what I learned while in Yeshiva, that parents are of paramount importance and we, the younger generation, should strive our hardest to go against the trend of modern children who berate and belittle their fathers and mothers. One of the most helpful pieces of advice one of my rabbeim gave me when I talked to him about starting to date when I went back to America was that I should first talk to my parents, tell them that I am ready to start going out with the intention of getting married, hear their perspective, and discuss practical points regarding my future, such as what would happen if I got married in undergrad, who would pay living expenses and for grad school, etc. The point was to find out my parents’ thoughts on the matter, make sure we all understood one another, and to reaffirm that despite our very different levels of religious observance, we are all one family and can live together in peace, with great love and mutual respect.

Granted, there was still a bit of tension along the long journey that led eventually led me to the chupah with ASog because life is never perfect, but we avoided most, if not all major conflicts. Since then, I’ve seen others butt heads quite unnecessarily with their parents because they won’t approach this matter with the proper measure of respect and understanding.

In the end, I have come to recognize that Chana has been right all along, and not every needs to, or even should attend a yeshiva or seminary in Israel. I hope we can all be more understanding of those who, for legitimate reasons, choose not to, spend that year in Israel. I also hope that we can all strive to help those who are hurt by their Israel experiences, who either have become disconnected from Judaism, or who have become so enthralled in harmful zealotry, bringing them back to a more proper shvil zahav.

Canary In The Mine - What Would You Do?

Grey Area Alert!

Life is full of surprises, some good, some not-so-good, perhaps even bad. People face difficult choices throughout their lifetimes, and in some, perhaps many instances people will make mistakes. Hopefully these people will then learn from their actions, and therefore be more cautious when something similar inevitably comes up and they must confront that situation again.

Granted, experience, along with failure, are often the best teachers one can have. The simplest and most commonly cited example is the little kid who doesn't listen to mommy telling him that the stove top is hot, so he goes ahead and touches it, thus burning his cute, little finger and learning a lesson that will hopefully stay with him for the rest of his life.

Sometimes we need to fail in order to learn something about ourselves, about life, about how we can be better and therefore do better. Success is nice and certainly feels good, but someone who simply achieves everything they attempt without really trying, using minimal effort, and still somehow managing to succeed, isn't really learning anything.

But that's not really what I want to talk about in this post.

There is another means through which we can gain insight into life and how things work, and that is through another's example. Take an extreme case: Someone's friend gets killed (Rachmana Latzlan) in an automobile accident because he was texting while driving and thus not paying attention. For all the other youths the same age and especially the friends of the victim, a very harsh lesson should (I say should because not everyone is so sensible) be learned; that one does not text while driving, because you really put yourself at potential mortal risk and could die because of your inattention.

A less intense example could include seeing your friend run himself ragged studying for a test, staying up really late studying, throwing back caffeinated/energy drinks, and watching them go crazy, get no sleep, then fail the test the next day because of a lack of preparation. I don't think this is something that you'd really be willing to try afterward. Granted, you may need to test your own limits a bit, but to not take a step back and think, "Gee, maybe I shouldn't stay up so late before a final. Getting sleep is more important and better for me than running on chemicals to keep my exhausted body awake," would be a lost potential step toward self-improvement.

Then there's dating and marriage.

Everyone makes mistakes in dating. Even the guy who marries the first girl he ever goes out with. For the rest of us, who didn't or won't marry the first person we ever dated, learn from our experiences. Additionally, we go to/listen to shiurim, read books and blogs, talk to our friends, meet with our dating mentors/rabbeim/teachers, attend seminars, and basically do just about everything we can, to learn as much as we can, to supplement our first-hand experiential dating ventures.

There's often a lot to be said by people who have legitimately "been there before" in specific scenarios, and whose advice is worth hearing, and potentially taking into consideration. This does not mean that you need to take everything a particular individual, book, or rabbi says as absolute truth without critically evaluating their imparted wisdom to decide if it merits implementation in your quest for a spouse. Yes, there are also people out there who like to think they know everything, radiate arrogance and false expertise, and try to recruit you as one of their "chassidim" - but I would like to give people the benefit of the doubt that they can think for themselves and filter out these kinds of people.

Yet, what if someone you know isn't doing that? Or seeming can't do that?

What is your responsibility if a friend is doing something that you know is unhealthy for them, in one of a myriad ways, whether emotionally, psychologically, religiously, socially - or whatever? If you know, based on your own experience, or from seeing another person crash and burn by doing what your friend is doing, what is your obligation to intervene on some level? To try and offer advice, though you know they may very well intentionally ignore your helpful intentions, and that the whole attempt could backfire and just make the matter worse.

What do you do if you see someone you know not being themselves, that the happiness they are expressing if forced and marred by tension, to the point where they seem to be playing a part to please someone else, simply because that other person has strong feelings of “liking” them. It’s a psychologically supported notion that a person will respond positively toward another person (particularly in this area) when they know that the other person likes them. As such, it can be very easy to get sucked into an ongoing relationship with the altered mindset that your intentions are completely for the purpose of pleasing the other person, since their admiration feels so good emotionally – even at the cost of ignoring your own needs and wants.

True, in marriage, one is supposed to put the needs and wants of their spouses in a higher tier of consideration than their own. In a healthy spousal relationship, where there is reciprocal giving of this sort, then both husband and wife can focus on the other and still have their personal needs met. You don’t have to be selfishly concerned about getting what you want because you know that the other person loves you and wants to satisfy and fulfill you just as much as you want to do that for him/her.

But, in an unhealthy balance, one person can cling to the other, in essence losing him/herself as they allow their identity to be eclipsed and absorbed by their significant other. This process is usually quite fast, and the strong effects that accompany such an imbalance will firmly take root before one can realize what is transpiring. They lose the ability to take a step back, remove the rosy colored glasses that are blinding them, and consider the situation with a rational perspective.

Though this often happens in abusive relationships, where one person is intentionally trying to manipulate the other – and certainly this is a very unhealthy connection that must be severed – similar one-sidedness can occur where both parties are essentially good people without any abusive tendencies. I have heard from others, and witnessed it myself with a few friends, that this can be a primary cause for a broken engagement or early divorce. The reason for this stems from the enormous reality check that kicks them in the head saying, “What in the world is going on? What am I doing to myself?” after the amount of dependence on the other person becomes too much. Everyone’s threshold for this breaking point is different, and some “wake ups” can occur sooner than others.

Additionally, the healthy reciprocal giving I mentioned above is more primarily suited to marriage. In dating, nothing is certain until the ring is on the girl's finger and even then, real certainty doesn't set in (initially) until that second ring is on her finger after the chupah. Until that point where you've dated long enough, become comfortable enough, know the person well enough to be who you are in their presence, warts and all, and are still received with acceptance, affection and admiration, you can't be absolutely certain that marriage is the proper path for any particular relationship.

So if you see someone mired in this situation, and they cannot step back and meta-analyze their life, what are you supposed to do about it? What can you do when you see someone moving too fast, not thinking clearly enough, making rash decisions that affect the present and future, disrupt well thought out plans for the sake of momentary thrills of being with another person? When their happiness seems more like intoxication rather than the genuine joy you've seen them expressed throughout their life in other areas? When that other person seems to thoroughly brainwashed to a certain perspective, that it feels like your own efforts to get them to think for themselves will have no meaningful impression on them whatsoever?

I am not in any way suggesting that your own perspective on such an issue is the be-all to end all. In Judaism we don’t believe that anyone is infallible, as Rabbi Haim Angel says in shiur. We have no pope, and no one has the authority to tell us what is without having their statements evaluated.

In particular, I fondly recall a source Rabbi Angel always cites during his shiur that introduces his methodology of studying Tanach from Rav Avaham ben HaRambam (this is not an exact translation, but a quotation from in-class notes):

“You have to know that anyone who wishes to hold a certain opinion because of who says it without any critical evaluation at all – this is not emunat chachamim, this is terrible and assur min haTorah – and is also illogical. Uncritical thinking is not good and it’s not intellectually honest. Why is it assur min haTorah? – Because we believe that Torah is Truth because G-d revealed it, so therefore one who blinds himself to intellectual honesty is being dishonest in the pursuit of Truth.”

If this is true when it comes to the pursuit of Torah study, the truest pursuit of the truest wisdom, I think that we can certainly apply this to our everyday lives as well – especially when dating. Yes, one may have a particular rebbe or seminary teacher from their experience in Israel (or at YU, or wherever) that had tremendous impact on you, but why should that respect lead to the exclusion of any other source of potential advice of guidance? And even so, no matter how much you admire someone and what they taught you, they too are not infallible, and even what they say must be examined in a critical fashion to ascertain the truth of their words. If someone is truly genuine, then they will very often check out as worth listening to, and their credibility becomes established – but that doesn’t mean they are any more perfect than the next person out there.

Pirkei Avos 2:8 presents a long list of if-then pairings said by Hillel. Among them is “Marbeh eitzah – marbeh tevuna,” or “The more counsel, the more understanding.” It would stand to reason that while this is useful for every area in life, it is particularly useful for dating and making the decision of who one should marry. Many, many dating/marriage books that I’ve read, as well as shiurim I’ve heard, recommend that a person should introduce a potential significant other to people they respect, such as parents, teachers, rabbeim, family and friends and subsequently get their opinion of the person you’re dating and of the two of you as a couple. The more perspectives you hear, especially those who are unbiased and truly want the best for you, the greater the likelihood that the truth of how well things fit and the potential appropriateness of a relationship will be revealed.

Again, this is not to say that one’s own opinion does not matter. Ultimately, you should be the one choosing who you marry, and not because something looks good on paper and someone you know and trust is pushing you toward the chupah. That’s patently wrong, and people need to be far more aware of when this happens to them – especially post-seminary/yeshiva, when some young men and women never take what they've learned and practically applied it to their real world life.

If well meaning people reach out to you because they are concerned that you’re not doing these sorts of things, it is appropriate to give them the time of day. People can get very taken while dating, and start planning, strategizing, and making up absurd future goals – often at a very rapid pace – without realizing what they’re getting themselves into. The rosy colored glasses go on and are applied with superglue, which means it will probably hurt when those shades come off.

Marriage, even for the most prepared men and women, is a rude awakening to the stark nature of reality. All the fluffy clouds and rainbows that envelop a person’s conscious thoughts (and sub/unconscious thoughts as well) vanish as soon as the responsibilities and trials of marriage kick in. This isn’t to say that marriage is bad or not worthwhile, just that it requires a lot of work, is often stressful, and that the previously unknown can play a large role in the development of the marriage bond. It behooves everyone out there thinking about dating for marriage to seriously contemplate what marriage really is, by talking to as many people as you can, both before you begin, while you are going out, and certainly as you move toward engagement and the wedding itself.

Without proper, multi-faceted, and varied guidance, a person can stumble into the arrogance of either believing they know everything, or that one or two people know everything and that they must abide by their suggestions to the letter if they want to achieve happiness.

Everyone must know him/herself inside and out, in order to truly understand what marriage and responsible adult life (meaning supporting a family, having children, contributing to a community, etc) really means to them. No one wants to wake up one morning to a baby crying and think, “Oh my G-d, what have I done?” We should all do our best to avoid such a tragic circumstance.

In the end, the main thing is to think. To think for oneself, taking into consideration what others tell you because they want to help you not make the same mistakes they have, or that they have seen others make. This includes mentors, siblings, and above all parents, who, if they have a healthy relationship with their children, intrinsically have a deep understanding of what is good for their offspring. Even if there is a hashkafic difference between how you were raised and what you’ve grown into, the people who have known you the longest truly have one of the best understanding of who you are and what you’re about, religious observances aside.

Back to my central point: If you see someone you know and care about not doing this sort of thorough, rational, self-respectful/introspective thinking, what can you do to help them? Can you help them? Should you help them? Or is it better to sit back and let them make their own mistakes, regardless of what the consequences might be?

Well, Now You've Gone And Done It...

Yes, I did it. Perhaps it was time, perhaps it wasn't - and I still don't know the full impact of my decision just yet.

My 2-year Verizon plan concluded and I was up for renewal plus a new phone. After 2 years of frustration with a primitive touch-screen (in place of the "okay/select" and directional buttons), which rarely worked well, and in defiance of ASoG's warnings (she was worried I'd regret getting another touchscreen), I got totally touch screen smart phone instead of another phone which had an actual flip-up QWERTY keyboard.

So while I have now joined the thousands (probably more than that) of people who have these new-fangled devices, the real point of this post is that I also just downloaded the free siddur app. Some nice fellow decided to scan an entire siddur, and made up this fancy-schmancy interface where I can go immediately to Shacharis, Mincha, Ma'ariv, bentsching, brachos, etc.

For the longest time I have held a very negative view of people using their smart phones in the place of siddurim for davening. I think it is a nice convenience to have access to for bentsching, but while saying bikas hamazon takes only a few minutes, any of the three primary tefillos (or Mussaf for Rosh Chodesh and Chol Hamoed) takes a considerable amount of time longer.

Hence, my suspicion is always aroused anytime I see someone using their smart phone in shul/at minyan. True, I should be dan lekaf zechus that they are just using their app instead of a siddur - particularly at Mincha/Ma'ariv in a non-shul location where this would be most helpful - but I can't even begin to count the number of times I've seen people goofing off, checking email, etc during Chazaras Hashatz, or other "downtime."

So why did I download the app, even though I totally agree with ASoG that I don't want to become one of those guys using his smart phone during davening? I view the app as a sort of added insurance fo sorts. I'm sure some instance will come up where it will be easier to use the smart phone or where I won't have my wallet with me and thus my pocket mini benstcher/Mincha-Ma'ariv as well. At the moment, I have three scenarios in my head:

1) The few times I end up davening Ma'ariv in an airport (which happens every now and then) where I will be a little less conspicuous if I'm just standing to the side with my phone instead of clutching my little siddur. I'm not afraid of being seen davening in an airport, or even fielding questions about it afterward, but I'd rather be as inconspicuous as possible.

2) As I have witnessed repeatedly, this app comes in handy at wedding minyanim. There have been more than a handful of instances where I get a ride to a wedding, don't take my wallet since I don't need any money, and later regret not remembering to bring my mini-siddur. I always have my phone on me and now I will have a siddur as well. In fact, I have been saved by several nice fellows who shared their smart phone with me at post chuppa/chosson's tisch minyanim.

3) If I'm in a situation of an impromtu minyan where there are no siddurim provided to the attendees and someone else doesn't have their own siddur. I can simply lend them mine and then use my phone for myself. This is also assuming I can fight off any yetzer hara I may have to check my email over the course of the minyan, which I hope I could.

At any rate, my typical modus operandi will still consist of using my well worn, yeshiva-in-Israel issued mini-siddur, while my new phone will be in my pocket (turned off, of course). Technology is wonderful, and I very much like the idea of having a siddur - or Shas, for example (I've seen a YU BMP rabbi learning off his smart phone on occasion) - but I'm not going to let that positive benefit suck me into a distraction that will ruin my davening experience.

Do We Really Appreciate What We Have?

Judaism is full of rules and regulations. Often enough, we may be confronted with a halacha that we come to view as a stricture, as in "If only I wasn't prohibited to do X, then life would be that much more fun/interesting/care free/insert-other-adjective-here." But do we really appreciate what having some guidelines for life really does for us?

I just read an article about a rapper who converted to Judaism on the New York Times website (thanks to Hirhurim for the link) that is simply inspiring in my mind. Maybe it's just my background as a ba'al teshuva, but I don't think I've ever seen anyone in any of these sorts of articles (which seem become more and more common place - maybe the geulah is coming soon after all J) really talk about how Judaism provides a productive structure for living. Most of the time, the convert talks about find spiritual fulfillment, meaning in general, but not in the fact that Judaism places stringencies on your everyday conduct.

In high school, I saw many good, Jewish kids, who excelled in their Judaic and secular studies at our day school, veer off into paths of indulgence, partying, and involvement in things like underage drinking, smoking, and drugs. Thankfully, none (that I am aware of, though I know of other similar kids who attended my high school after I graduated) degenerated to the level that they needed to spend time in a rehab center or were arrested. One of the key things my parents noticed most about my transformation into a pretty straight-laced ba'al teshuva was that I never got into the trouble that many of my peers did (not that I want to be boastful about my behavior at all, I simply have my then-newfound devotion to learning and observance to thank for keeping me out of trouble). Because I knew being involved in a number of the activities my peers chose to partake of were problematic halachically, I avoided the greater conflicts that were present in doing what they did with their lives.

Anyway, I want to quote a few sections from the article that really emphasize this point, which I think many FFB people simply have no understanding of - not because they intellectually can't, but because their background doesn't provide the framework to wrap their minds around it.

“What are the laws?” he said, explaining his decision to adhere to the Orthodox level of observance. “I want to know the laws. I don’t want to know the leniencies. I never look for the leniencies because of all of the terrible things I’ve done in my life, all of the mistakes I’ve made.”

As one of my rabbeim once told me, we live in a chumra-obsessed society. People want to take on every chumra (stringency) to be frummer than the next guy - it's nothing but a competition lacking the soul. Do people honestly take on chumros for the purpose of having greater order in their life - to prevent the chance of making a mistake, because being lenient might give them, personally, a greater leeway to commit an aveirah?

“What I do get is boundaries,” he said. “Definition and form. And that is what Shabbat is. You can’t just do whatever you want to do. You have to set limits for yourself.

“All these rules, rules, rules,” he said with his hand on an open page of the Talmud. “But you know what you have if you don’t have rules? You end up with a bunch of pills in your stomach. When you don’t know when to say when and no one tells you no, you go off the deep.”

It's so true, so very, very true, at least from what I've seen with friends and acquaintances. Good, decent kids, who lacked a continuing adherance to even the more minimal observance of Judaism which they had pre-high school just go totally off, not off the derech, but off the entire map altogether, ending up who knows where with a boatload of problems. It's very true that a major part of all this was a laxity in parenting that didn't encourage rules in general, but kal v'chomer who didn't encourage their children to continue to find meaning within the bounds of Torah study and mitzvah observance. I know of a few very good kids who have since gone off and intermarried because of this sort of free-for-all with regard to rules.

Everyone, on their own level, needs to come to terms with what it means to live a Torah-observant lifestyle, and find meaning in the "do nots" and "shall nots." Hopefully, it won't take a prison sentence to open our eyes to the Emes of the gift that has been given to us by birth - or the gift we recognized as True and chose to accept - in our Jewishness. If so many people, including those from not-so-great backgrounds, can discover real meaning, not just in the spiritual highs, but the seemingly "monotonous" rules as well - then maybe we can bring the geulah that much closer to fruition.

*As a caveat, I do not necessarily agree with Shyne/Moses Levi's hashkafic views that since there's nothing mentioned in the Chumash about driving fancy cars or living "the lifestyle that I live," that it's okay to be totally extravagant. The second bit may be slightly out of context, considering the article doesn't really depict him as living the gangsta rapper lifestyle anymore. We should still live modestly, comfortably, but not necessarily with total indulgence just because we have boatloads of money. If you're able to live very confortably, why not put the extra money to better uses like philanthropy or visiting Israel? But that's just my short critique.

Additionally, I am not in any way in favor of super-observance to the point of driving kids off the derech. Mindless observance without meaning gets you nowhere good. Finding the depth of meaning, and applying it to our lives is the key.

To Ring Or Not To Ring? That Is The Question.

Should married guys wear rings?

The topic has been hotly debated several times on in the Jewish blog-o-sphere. Many single women decry the inability to distinguish single males from those already taken in wedlock at social events, which creates awkward conversational situation such as:

Looking-to-wed woman approaching seemingly available guy: “My, what a handsome devil you are!”

Man who was hit on unwanted-ly: “Why, thank you, my wife thinks so too!” waves “Hi, honey!”

In preparation for my nuptials, I began taking a mental survey of my recently, and not-so-recently, married friends to determine what percentage of them decided to wear a wedding band. As it turned out, a large number of them actually did sport the token bit of jewelry on their left hand. In fact, it seemed like the majority of them, particularly those who married within the last year or so, had chosen to show off their commitment with a ring.

Styles and metals varied. Many chose a simple, slender, white gold band – seemingly to match their bride’s own wedding band which they had presented under the chuppah. Very few were yellow gold. It seems that the standard gold color has fallen out of favor among those of our younger generation. Upon observing many men in my shul who represent my father’s generation, yellow gold is by far the most popular choice among those who wear wedding bands. Another popular metal was tungsten, a near-indestructible, scratch-proof, very mirror-like material that looks quite attractive. After trying one particular friend’s tungsten ring, I noticed the metal has quite a nice heft to it as well.

One friend also has a titanium ring, primarily because it was quite cheap and manly sounding. He wanted to use a titanium ring to mekadesh his wife under the chuppah as well, but it turns out titanium is so inexpensive, he told me it cost around $70 per ton, which made the value of the ring actually less than a sheva pruta (I’m not working out the math, especially since I’m sure it cost more than that to buy his ring, but it sounded funny anyway).

At any rate, I asked around to see what the current hashkafic trend is regarding wearing a ring. Many said the reason they want to wear a ring is to avoid unwanted advances by women, and a few quoted Rav Mordechai Willig as a source for this idea. One friend reported that Rav Willig was a big fan of wedding bands for guys who are out in the workforce, or in law/medical/dental school and thus could come into contact with women who would otherwise get a little too friendly, if not for the shiny reminder on their ring finger.

After discussing this with another friend, he quoted a different, though humorous Rav Willig story. The issue of men wearing wedding rings had been discussed at a YU event my friend attended wherein Rav Willig served as one of the panelists. After someone quoted the above reasoning, Rav Willig replied that if married men need to wear rings to avoid undesired female attention, then single men should wear them too!

There were definitely a number of friends who remarked that they chose to wear rings because they wanted to have a public symbol of their dedication and fidelity to their wives. I personally like this idea just as much, if not more so than simply using the ring as a charm to ward off preying women-folk, though there is definitely overlap between the two concepts.

I even asked Rabbi Gil Student of Hirhurrim if he could do a post on men wearing rings. Though he was intrigued by the idea, he replied that there really wasn’t much halachic substance to the topic other than not having any sort of double-ring ceremony at the chuppah. Other than that notion of exchanging rings, there was no real issue with men wearing wedding bands.

So, I am proud to say that I have joined the ring wearing crowd of my peers. After viewing an article that compared the various different kinds of men’s wedding bands, I purchased a pretty plain, though very shiny tungsten ring online. The only downside (seemingly) to tungsten is that if dropped/impacted at the right (or is that wrong?) angle, the whole ring could snap in half. But, the good news about is the website I used offers a lifetime warranty, which none of the local/mall-based jewelers could offer, despite their acknowledgement of the rare possibility of breaking the ring.

Of course, having never really warn a ring before in any serious fashion – my senior year ring from high school sits collecting dust in a desk drawer back home, and I don’t think any of the super-hero related rings from my childhood count – I have made some mistakes. Most tend to involve me taking off the ring for some activity, such as washing my hands, taking a shower, preparing food, and simply forgetting to put it back on. Most of the time, the ring is very close in proximity to where I am located, such as tucked into the breast pocket of my button-down shirt, or on the counter next to the sink.

However, I did actually lose my ring once (so far), and bli ayin hara, I won’t lose it ever again!

Upon arriving at the airport security line for our return flight following the last few days of sheva brachos in my hometown, I foolishly (or so I was later told*) took off my ring before going through the metal detector. I placed it within an inside pocket of my jacket, which I then took off and carefully put it into one of those plastic bins. After exiting the scanner, I pulled my jacket on, reached into my pocket, and discovered to my horror that the ring was gone.

After frantically looking through the empty bin and turning the pocket inside out, I discovered that the “pocket” was not a pocket at all, but rather the physical “bag” that composed a pocket that entered from the outside of my jacket. This meant that the bottom edges of the “pocket” were not entirely sewn to the inside of the jacket, and thus there was a large gap between two corners – one that was wide enough to fit two fingers through with ease.

I ran over to the nearby security agents and told them my story. They agreed to help and proceeded to re-view the x-rays of my jacket, look in, around, and under the conveyer belt (one guy even used a little black light flashlight to inspect between the rollers on part of the belt). They even re-scanned all my stuff – but to no avail. The fact that the initial x-ray of the jacket failed to show the ring in the “pocket” meant it had fallen out and rolled who-knows-where before I even went through security. I kept imagining all the trajectories the little thing could have sailed off to – particularly since it is pretty wide (6 mm to be precise) and could have easily built up speed to go quite the distance in almost any direction.

Disheartened that I lost the darn thing so soon after I started wearing it – though my parents told me it was merely tradition, since my own father lost his wedding band during the first year of marriage, too – I gave them a written description along with my contact information, and boarded my plane. The entire day went by without any word from the airport security, so I went ahead (with ASoG’s permission) and ordered a second, identical ring.

Less than an hour later, I get a phone call from a sibling who happened to be travelling with us at the time. It turns out, pilei ployim (to borrow Rav Goldvicht’s signature catchphrase) that the ring somehow ended up in their carryon. I still have no clue how this is even possible, but considering the probabilities that had to line up just right for that to happen – my working theory is that I lifted the jacket over their bins when I picked up my own, causing the ring to fall through the corner hole, into their bin, into a “conveniently” opened zipper or tear (the carryon had one or two such tears), after which it somehow moved into an entirely different compartment of the bag, stayed there as it was schlepped down the terminal, loaded onto the plane, survived the entire flight, the trip through the terminal and airport at our destination, and finally the long cab ride back to their dorm room, all without ever falling out – is utterly mind boggling.

Clearly, HaShem was trying to teach me a lesson with this whole incident.

I will definitely do my best to be far more aware of my ring, and make sure not to take it off unnecessarily – and of course to show it off proudly, advertising my married status.

Sorry ladies, but this young man is taken J

*ASoG told me after we settled into our seats on the plane that there is no need to remove jewelry at all for the metal detectors. I wondered what she did with her rings (engagement and wedding) when she went on our flights together, and had never noticed her taking them off or putting them back on before. I guess it all makes sense now, and I have committed this little factoid to memory.

Money In Yeshivish Shidduchim + 100 Posts!

Rabbi Harry Mayles over at Emes Ve'Emunah posted about "The Best Boy in Lakewood" based on an article written by Rabbi Jonathan Rosenblum called "Avoiding Corruption in Shidduchim," which is a critique of people buying and selling boys who want to learn in kollel within shidduchim.

I don't have much to add to their quite brilliant observations and comments other than this is one of my own problems with the yeshivish/chareidi world and why I prefer to remain safely in my own Grey Area. This whole unfortunate business is definitely not helping the ongoing "shidduch crisis," and people need to "wake up and smell the coffee" already.

Incidentally, my last post was my 100th! Huzza! (to borrow Chana's exclamation) Thanks to all the visitors and keep reading folks!

A Shabbos Of Many Firsts

This past Shabbos was one of many firsts. It was my first Shabbos spent on the YU campus since the school year ended, as well as my first Shabbos spent on campus any summer since I started my academic career at YU. It’s really kind of lonely with so many people gone, leaving a number of married couples that live here and a handful of June zman guys who decided to rough it out and not go home (although there was a KBY Shabbaton this week, which probably encouraged some guys to stay).

Without caf meals to rely upon, I had to figure out what I was going to do for food. A friend of mine living on the other side of the Heights really came through and helped me find a night meal after I successfully received an invite for lunch. Both meals were enjoyable, but of totally opposite character.

The Friday night meal was on the other side of the Heights, and was my first singles-only Shabbos meal. I also davened at Mount Sinai shul, a supposed hotbed of singles activity, for the first time ever. Sure, I had been there once or twice before to attend concerts (notably, Shlomo Katz concerts), but I’ve never had a reason, nor desire to daven there before. I found that the stereotypes are largely true. Throughout davening, there were young men and women congregating in the empty social hall, located right next to the sanctuary (the men have to walk through it to get to their seats) as well as in the adjacent hallway schmoozing it up with one another, and that was just the beginning…

The davening itself was a bit lackluster. The chazzan (I doubt he’s necessarily to blame) started off Lechu Neranena in the Carlebach style, but then didn’t sing much else until Lecha Dodi. He used a few Carlebach endings, oddly enough, while singing mostly by himself. On the whole, I was very underwhelmed by the overall lack of congregational interest in singing/davening together. I must commend them for singing Vayechulu together though, which I don’t see so often. It’s kind of funny, because you’re supposed to say it together with other people, to the point where if you daven Shemonah Esrei too long and miss the congregation’s recitation, that you should grab someone else and have him say it with you. Yet, in most shuls when the chazzan gets to Vayechulu, everyone just starts off belting it out or mumbling it on their own, almost like a race.

It is also true that the men and women basically face one another, with two sections for each along the northern and southern walls, women behind the men with a mechitza made of interlocking metal bars that are somewhat easily seen through. I kept my hat pulled low over my eyes when sitting in my seat, or did my best to direct my gaze strictly forward when standing and facing east. I was basically successful in my attempt to avoid visual distractions during davening, though I imagine many find such an arrangement entertaining or interesting.

Anyway, after Adon Olam, the real ‘fun’ began. I had seen my friend earlier, but quickly lost sight of him as soon as the crowd started flowing into the large, open social hall for the prerequisite post-davening socializing/get-together. A few hundred (I’m bad at guesstimation) young men and women were milling about in small groups chit-chatting with one another. Truth be told, I really couldn’t handle the “scene,” I was definitely overwhelmed by the immensity of it all. I saw old classmates from YU, guys who went to Israel with me, a few married guys I knew, a girl or two I went out with – though I observed most of them from afar, only choosing to actually catch up with a few of the guys I knew. I’m not entirely against social interaction with girls, and if people are utilizing the opportunity to really meet members of the opposite gender, more power to them. It just wasn’t my thing.

I must mention that this started at around 9:40 PM and was going quite strong by the time my friend and I left with our hostess well after 10 PM. I don’t know about all those other young guys and gals, but I was hungry by that point. I guess the desire for social interaction trumps food sometimes (though they often go together).

We proceeded to head over to our hostess’ apartment where I sat down to my first singles’ meal, about twelve men and women in total, split evenly give or take.

Surprisingly, or should I say thankfully, the whole meal wasn’t awkward at all. It was quite fascinating to watch the male-female dynamics of the conversation. The hostess and her apartment-mates did most of the cooking, and guests brought things like the wine, challah, and the dessert (I had offered to bring something, but it was all taken care of by the time I was invited). We reminisced about 90’s TV shows, did an ice breaker or two, and generally talked about all sorts of random stuff.

I also had my first glimpse into this ‘other world’ of singles, which I had never experienced before. While I’m sure that sort of life works for some/many frum singles out there, it’s not something I ever want to be a part of. The whole existence affects the people there, and I could see it in both the guys and girls I ate Shabbos dinner with. I don’t necessarily think it’s a pgam per se, since for many, living in such a community is a necessity for finding a spouse (or so many claim), but it definitely changes a person. I’ve gone out with girls who live over there, and each time the shidduch was very short lived, for reasons I might understand better now.

I think there is a marked difference between the YU side and the Mount Sinai side of the Heights. The YU side, understandably, exists in an atmosphere that is permeated by the yeshiva. The main beis medrish is the center of the community (especially in its new location), and included with that edifice are the many great roshei yeshiva we have. It’s vastly different from having a shul with just one rabbi (as great as Rabbi Schwartz, a YU musmach, is). I honestly feel a greater sense of community around YU than I did at Mount Sinai. Even though you might have singles on both sides (though more women there than here), everything on the Mount Sinai side seemed so disconnected, akin to the social butterflies flitting back and forth during the “scene” following Ma’ariv. Whereas at YU, even those not married still orbit around the yeshiva, with a firm tether that keeps them grounded in a Torah reality. I don’t mean to belittle the men and women at Mount Sinai at all, but their primary focus seemed to be each other and not the davening/shul.

Now that I’ve probably offended any single readers who live over there (and feel free to express your opinions/rants in comment form), I’ll talk about my other “first” experience, which was my lunch meal.

Bad For Shidduchim, Frum' N Flipping, A Blob of Something Different, and other bloggers (mostly of the female variety, to the best of my recollection) have all written posts about their friends moving on, getting married, and already having kids, thus making them feel all the more left out. While I have had a large number of friends who have already gotten married, and a few here and there who have begun having children, I never really encountered the phenomenon in person - until now. For the most part, as many have already observed and discussed to death, married people tend to form their own little social circles, to the exclusion of their still-single friends. I can now report firsthand that being around such friends can be a bit alienating.

It had been a while since the last time I shared a Shabbos meal with this particular friend and his wife, but that was back when they were newlyweds. Now, around a year and a half later, they have a cute baby daughter. The other guests included another married couple, along with their own baby son, and another friend, whose wife is expecting. Conversation centered around the babies on hand, general tips and tricks for raising children, including feeding and nap habits, as well as fun topics such as morning sickness. As the only single person at the meal, I was left utterly without a word to contribute to the discussion half of the time. Despite the fact that I was sitting right there at the same table, eating the same delicious food, it almost seemed like I wasn’t in the room. I can’t blame any of them for unintentionally excluding me, and in the end I did learn some things from simply sitting quietly and listening to all the back-and-forth dialogue.

I was also a slightly overwhelmed by the enormity of what it means to be married, take care of a home, and have/raise kids. I don’t think that many people honestly take these things into consideration so much while dating. As much as I believe I’ve basically reached the limit to my functionality as a single man, I have quite a lot to learn about being a husband and father. True, most of that education is collected from “on-the-job” experience, but I know I could prepare myself more. I have been reading dating books for a long time now (since Shana Bet, in fact), and now the thought occurred to me that maybe I should move onto reading marriage and child-raising books… As I once heard in a shiur, the time to read and absorb dating/marriage books is NOT when you’re already engaged, because it’s too late at that point to effect any major change in any traits you might be lacking. Hence, the right time to head to the bookstore is during the time you’re single or even before you really start dating. I now think the same goes for marriage and child rearing. Though I imagine those books aren’t quite as exciting as ones about dating/how to find your bashert. I may just switch to the marriage books and hold off and the child-rearing titles for now.

Both meal experiences were like glimpses into potential futures. One, wherein I have graduated YU unmarried and still need to find my wife, the other, a bit further along in time, after I’ve gotten married and started my family. While the whole married with kids thing is a definite aspect of my future (please G-d), I’m really not too keen on being one of those social singles hanging out on the other side of the Heights. It really felt like a way station for people who have become “stuck” in life, unable to transition from singlehood to marriage, for whatever reason. I think I can better empathize with those who are unfortunately enduring that existence (some of whom have been there for many years).

One solution to this “crisis,” which I’ve mentioned before, is that people should set others up with those they’ve gone out with before. If your ex-shidduch was an all around decent person, and just didn’t match up with you, why not recommend him/her to a friend who you think would be more appropriate? If we all consciously networked together, I think we could avoid the haphazard socializing that I saw Friday night after shul.

May we all skip (or quickly move beyond) that frustrated, still-single stage in life!

I’ll end with a quote I once heard from Rabbi Orlian, one of the sganei mashgiach here at YU, when he asked me if I was busy and I replied in the affirmative:

“If it’s the right one, may it be quick. If not, may it be quicker!”