A fish in a tree

I recently had the pleasure of a brief email exchange with a Jerusalem blogger whom I’ve been admiring from afar.

I’ve actually been enjoying Rahel’s blog ‘Elms in the Yard’ since around the time of the great Anglo-Israeli blogmeet last September, but since she doesn’t allow comments on her site (and I’d been too lazy and self-absorbed to actually send her an email), I’m sure she had no idea I’d become a big fan.

One of the reasons I love Rahel’s blog is that it has forced me to examine many of my long held convictions about gender roles in Jewish law, Jewish observance and good old-fashioned tradition. She doesn’t always write about women’s issues… in fact such topics are more of a sub-text on her blog. The topics about which she chooses to write are actually quite varied, but have the common theme of trying to advance and illuminate goodness in the world... an important (and seldom assumed) task if ever there was one.

Most long-time readers of treppenwitz are aware that I became more religiously observant in my late teens… an age when most observant Jews are completing their formal religious education, not just setting out. As a result of my many insecurities and lack of extensive textual knowledge, I take great pains to always stay very close to what I perceive to be the more centrist position when choosing among the wide range of ‘minhagim’ (traditions) and interpretations of Halakha (a very broad term encompassing the sum of Jewish Law).

Over the twenty-something years that I have been observant, I have noticed that I tend to become uncomfortable when dealing with people and ideas that ‘push the envelope’ towards either of the extremes of Jewish observance (right or left).

Many people don’t realize that halakha is actually quite elastic, and that it has evolved dramatically throughout the history of the Jewish people. However, to those who view halakha through a lens of months or even a few years, it probably seems quite static and inflexible.

The downside is that those who have been brave (or foolish) enough to place themselves on the cutting edge of Jewish law … pushing for subtle (and not-so-subtle) change based on prevailing conditions and ‘modern norms’… are often viewed during their lifetimes as, at best kooks, and at worst heretics.

Even worse, just because an individual or group attempts to push halakha and observance in a particular direction doesn’t necessarily mean they will be successful. It is only decades, or even centuries later that scholars can look back and discern whether a particular trend became incorporated into ‘normative’ Jewish practice or whether it became an aberration or even a cautionary tale against religious rebellion.

One of the things I’ve realized since I began reading Rahel’s blog is that I have made many of my decisions about my own level of religious observance based on wanting to be in the center (what the Rambam – Maimonides called the ‘golden mean’)… and more specifically not wanting to be perceived as being near one of the extremes.

The best way for me to explain this is to compare Jewish observance to walking through a house with all the lights out. If it’s your house and you are intimately familiar with every nook and cranny, you probably have no problem navigating easily through the rooms, and even the more obscure corners, without bumping into something. But if you are in an unfamiliar house... say an extended stay in a friend’s home… you may not trust your recollection of where the furniture and stairs are located once the lights are turned off.

For me, straying too far from the most widely accepted path of religious observance means risking barking my shins on something hard/sharp. To stretch the analogy to its breaking point, I worry that by not knowing the precise halakhic guidelines for why a controversial practice may be either permissible or problematic, I may transgress and fall down a darkened flight of stairs.

In one of her emails to me, Rahel said:

"I firmly believe that today’s committed Jews need to learn to distinguish between their personal comfort level and what halakha allows. Too many times I’ve heard people say, when confronted with an idea they’re not familiar with such as women reading from the Torah, wearing tallitot (prayer shawls), or the like, some variation of ‘I don’t care if halakha allows it. I don’t like it, so they shouldn’t do it’. In my opinion, that is intellectually dishonest, to say the least."

I get the impression from her blog that Rahel is comfortable in her role as a pioneer in the world of Jewish observance/law. I’ll be the first to admit that many of the ideas she espouses make me uncomfortable. But I will also freely admit that I don’t necessarily think she is wrong. It has taken me over two decades to arrive at a place where I can admit such a thing to myself.

However, for me to embrace all the ideas and practices that Rahel holds dear, would be like sprinting through an unfamiliar house with all the lights off. I’m sure I would eventually make it through… but as an 'Am Ha'aretz' (one who is largely ignorant of Jewish texts and practice), am I brave enough to risk all the bumps and bruises that would surely accompany such a dash in the dark?

In response to my request to publish exerpts from our correspondence, Rahel related some of the hateful and thoughtless things that have been said to her because of her opinions and practices. Apparently many of the people who claim extensive knowledge of the laws dealing with women’s roles in Judaism are somewhat less familiar with the laws of Loshon HaRah (‘guarding one’s tongue’) [my observation, not hers]. That is indeed unfortunate, and I cringe to think that sincere people like Rahel, who are not using Judaism as performance art or to advance a secular feminist agenda, are frequently denigrated and insulted without the opportunity to debate or defend their position in a scholarly environment.

I know from a comment she made in one of her emails that Rahel is not immune to the pain associated with constantly living on the cutting edge. She said that much of the time she felt "like a fish living in a tree." This off-hand remark from such a knowledgeable, deeply committed woman reinforced for me the difficulty of being part of a group struggling to affect change from within. It indicated that she is often excluded from orthodoxy’s warm embrace to which those of us in the center have become accustomed.

The question then is whether I am a traitor to my values (or at very least a coward) for allowing someone else to ‘take the heat’ for doing something that makes me uncomfortable... but which I do not consider objectionable?

Obviously, for women’s roles to continue evolving within the world of observant Judaism, someone has to be the vanguard. However, being part of a vanguard can be painful business. I became observant partly to seek the order and security of well-worn ritual. I’m just not sure I am brave enough to expose myself to the pain of living on the cutting edge... and potentially becoming 'another fish living in a tree'.

[Note: I have a small request to make. Before leaving a comment, please take a moment to note that this is not a discussion of Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist or any other form of Judaism. I have limited myself to that broad area known as Orthodox Judaism (although I intensely dislike the term "orthodox’). I welcome and encourage lively, repectful debate... but I would ask that before bringing up any issues you might have with orthodoxy, you remember that this is not an invitation to compare and contrast orthodoxy’s merits or flaws according to the viewpoints of the other movements, but rather a difficult topic within the orthodox world. Please be sensitive to that distinction. Thank you.]