Gene opens his column with an observation no doubt provoked by Lean In the work by Sheryl Sandberg that keeps the conversation going. 

In the past several months, American women have been engaged in intense, public hand-wringing dialogues with themselves over whether they should “lean in” to be more aggressive careerists; whether it is okay to even mention a woman’s gender when writing about her scientific accomplishments; whether an obituary can discuss the deceased woman’s domestic skills (and in which paragraph such information belongs); whether women at Ivy League schools should seize the opportunity to find husbands among their intellectually equal classmates (or whether this is a deeply regressive anti-feminist impulse); and whether a woman CEO is betraying the sisterhood if she outlaws telecommuting.

He  wonders out loud when will the movement get beyond this type of rumination. Wisely, not trusting his own instincts, he calls a trusty female colleague in another city to enlighten him, and  she immediately demands that he “take off his pants”, which though somewhat abashed, he does. She takes hers off as well and asks him to read the label on the back of his jeans.  ”Levi-Strauss W 34 L 32.” She replies,, “Mine says, “Adriano Goldschmied.” Period.”

The point being that where men find clothing that fits their size, women have to fit into pre-ordained clothing sizes. Men never say I have to get down to a 40 short for my daughter’s wedding, but women will diet to fit into a size eight. My own source of things feminist Dr. Eileen Solomon, mother of one of my very astute students, Hannah Solomon Schwartz, elaborates. “Men will get their suits altered without giving it a thought, but women will feel that they have failed if they don’t fit into the preordained size.” I would say, “Who knew?” But that admission just indicates my high level of male cluelessness. How much do you want to bet that this does not rate a two on  the feminine insight meter?

Van Morrison knew this over forty years ago when he wrote the lyrics to his top forty hit “Wild NIght” on his Tupelo Honey album. 

All the girls walk by dressed up for each other, while the boys do the boogie woogie on the street.”

He indicates that the judgement girls pass on each other submits to an unwritten standard that consciously or sub-consciously they all accept. It’s not so much about us guys, but about them and their relationships with each other.. 

A stroll through the garden of the Israel Museum gives a graphic comment on Talmudic uneasiness when it comes to celebrating beauty. On one side a beautiful example of a Roman mosaic creates a celebration of ancient western art and culture, while close by a crude and inelegant collection of small tiles display the laws of the Sabbatical year. The sages could care less about how it looked, but only what it had to say. Coincidence? I think not.

While Rabbi Yochanan’s beauty was celebrated, it may have been considered anomalous that such a magnificent specimen contained great wisdom. Caesar’s daughter once told Rabbi Yeshohua Ben Hananya,

What magnificent wisdom in such a hideous vessel? He replied, ‘What vessels do you use to keep your wine? She answered, “Vessels made of clay.” He answered, “People as important as yourselves shouldn’t you put the wine in vessels that reflect your stature? She reported this to her father who immediately placed the wine in vessels made of gold and silver. The wine spoiled in a very short time. Caesar asked his daughter who gave her this bad advice? She told him. Caesar summoned Rabbi Yehoshua. whom he asked why did you tell my daughter to do this? Rabbi Yehoshua answered, “What she said to me, I said to her.”

The Gemara continues and challenges this story by commenting that people who are good looking have proved themselves in learning, but the Gemara counters, “If they had been a bit uglier, they would have learned more. (Ta’anit 7a-b)

When Roman soldiers complimented Rabbi Meir’s daughter on the way she walked, she took note and the rabbis took a dim view of their attentions and her response to them. No doubt about it, beauty was no asset and deterred one from more lofty pursuits. As professional schools have become female majorities nowadays, it’s not enough to lean in, they one still must “fit in.” 

And regardless whether one wants to show more skin or as little as possible, there is no avoiding the pressure. Whether one is an aspiring model, or a Beit Ya’akov girl the focus on the body and the pressure people feel are virtually identical.  Both cultures have their share of eating disorders. The rabbis observed that a daughter of Israel should be impervious to Roman catcalls, however complimentary, but being men they, like me, never noticed what happened on the other side of the gender divide.

While leaning in women should spread out and let the clothes fit around them instead of the other way around. Spreading out may be more difficult than breaking the glass ceiling, but infinitely more important. Gina Barecca, Weingarten’s expert offers the following advice:

We need to begin with mandatory quality child care in all places of business. Mandatory flexible hours, offered to everyone, men and women. A system of workplace job assessment and promotion that values quality of work, not the number of hours put in.

This, she says, will fix everything. I admit that I don’t exactly understand how, but I have a new appreciation for the Rabbinic distaste for the Greco-Roman ideal.

A word t Gene, however,, keep your pants on–it’s an image that I don’t need bouncing around in my head.

http://forward.com/articles/175117/in-israel-guns-signal-failure-not-strength/?p=all

Allright. Has anyone ever dreamed of attending ones own funeral? The impulse for that fantasy is to really know what people are going to say about you, but if you really wished to know, you would rather be a fly on the wall of more intimate conversations where the real truth may be told. Eulogies are filtered by design, and the narcissistic urge to know the truth of what people really think is ill served in public ceremonies of any kind. Still, I assume lots of us wouldn’t mind an invisibility cloak to eavesdrop on the true thoughts and feelings of others.

R. Broyde obviously grew impatient for the grim reaper and after being called out for” sock puppeting”, gives a long list of Rabbonim who used pseudonyms to advance ideas. He admits that his major motivation was to duck the slings and arrows of a vituperative comments section that often mercilessly engage in ad hominem attacks. Why he thinks that this is a peculiarly Orthodox behavior is surprising. Obnoxious, uncivil, and even threatening comments are not only the province of Jews in general and certainly not Orthodox Jews in particular. If a blog is not moderated by someone, then many, if not most, of the comments of any blog, or listserv, are not for the thin skinned.

It is of interest that R. Broyde gives a “traditional defense” basically elucidating the practice in which he engaged has some illustrious company. Sages, in fact, who are far greater than he have lauded the practice of a nom de plume. In fact, he says,

Writing on torah matters through a pseudonym is an old practice and done for a variety of reasons. In Halachic matters, the practice is cited approving by the Magen Avraham. Many have done this and I see no need to apologize for it. Professor Marc Shapiro once told me that a list of such figures includes the Ben Ish Chai and many others; all greater than me. He also called my attention to the book Otzar Beduyei Hashem by Shaul Chajes, which is an exhaustive list of individuals who used pen names. Finally, Shapiro informed me that the Aderet published a book anonymously, and included his own haskamah to the book (referring to himself in exalted language). My friends have told me about several contemporary talmidei chachamim who regularly write under pseudonyms. Many secular writers have done such as many can see as well.

If the norms of an organization, or a list require full disclosure of ones identity, he is at least violating the rules of said organization, and operating in bad faith. If, however, anonymous comments are allowed, then I guess the question is what’s the difference between “anonymous”, and a pseudonym? If, in fact, the list was open and had no rules, then one could argue, “What’s the harm?” But if there was an assumption that “sock puppetting” was against the rules, then at the very least he operated in bad faith which he has admitted.

My question is the implicit self justification of his apology. The fact that R. Broyde has been suspended from the Beit Din, and investigated by his University indicates that regardless whether great Sages have written pseudonymous approbations for their own works does not justify his behavior. In fact, it actually casts aspersions on those greater than himself. I like Clinton too, but let God justify his sins.

Certainly one cannot compare this behavior to adultery, but aren’t there Torah prohibitions one can invoke here? Like “One should distance ones self from deceit.” If the norms that have been violated have gained the attention of the general community i.e. the university where he works, could this not be considered a chilul hashem. A rabbi, one who passes judgement on others, is now exposed in what he declares as “inappropriate”, but harmless behavior is now being punished by Jewish and American institutions alike.

His apology acknowledges his behavior, but his implicit “What’s the big deal” defense rings hollow.  The  Gemara in Yoma’s examples of what constitutes a chilul hashem, a profaning of God’s name, are all matters of perception, and not reality. If the public judges one harshly for perceived immoral behavior, then the justifications are irrelevant. So is the fact that sages also engaged in practices that are no longer “appropriate”. Why impugn our all too human predecessors as a defense for having been caught? Are we proud of the fact that the Aderet gave an approbation for his own book under a pseudonym?

Generally, the label center-left describes someone who is concerned about ethics and its contemporary consequences. Not in this case.

Immediately, Hillel, Shammai, and the Talmudic dialectic come to mind. Two dramatically different temperaments that led them to such different truths. Yet, before choosing a cosmic victor, the heavenly voice declared, “These and these are words of the living God!” A feel good aphorism that was proclaimed, nay, abused, but never really understood by the bigoted adherents of diversity. Everybody’s right! Nobody has a monopoly on the truth. Deconstructing meaning until there is none, we self righteously inflate self satisfied pillows with the feathers of broad mindedness.Resting comfortably, we slumber so soundly, all conflict remains, each side brandishing a fragment of truth. Is that really what Hillel and Shammai teach us?

In Pirkei Avot, Beit Hillel and Beit Shammai represent different sides of the argument that will endure. A question not often asked is why do we want disputes to endure? Is not resolution possible? Two sides of the same truth? Heady stuff. Borne out of Hillel and Shammai’s personality, and life experience, two schools of Halachic thought are born, and they are ultimately viewed as heads and tails, two sides of the same coin. One side, however will be selected as more authoritative, while the other will be there pointing out the imperfections of the one favored. Shammai is perceived as more exacting while Hillel is considered more generous.

In Kabbalistic terms Hillel represents the quality of chesed while gevurah
Is the province of Shammai. Beit Hillel understands that they are more in touch with those around them, more realistic regarding what might be a reasonable expectation. Shammai does not see the point in accommodating people when the law’s job is to require obedience. Who’s serving whom, after all? In a perfect world, the Zohar says, Shammai will get his due, but this flawed morass of humanity must suffice with the forbearing nature of Hillel and his minions.

Beit Hillel has the good sense and manners to elucidate their rivals positions before invoking their own. This is not merely good manners, but the embodiment of “These and these are words of the living God”. It is an admission that even if they feel more correct, the entire truth remains evasive. For the coin to be complete, it can’t just be heads. In fact, when both claim that the “Law is with us” no monopoly of the truth is implied, but Beit Hillel’s argument is that our temperament is more compatible with the people because we are connected. Thus the sages comment, “That one’s opinions should always be intermingled with those around them.” The favored ruling should therefore be with the generous spirit, and not the exacting one.

For those who seek no accommodation, but want to embody the strict nature of the law without favor, they are entitled, and even lauded for the commitment. It is only when the spirit of Beit Shammai, the spirit of the stringent, chooses to eradicate the validity of those who seek accommodation where the deference offered by Beit Hillel is scorned and ridiculed as less than adequate, that things become distorted. As if Beit Shammai says unequivocally, that they understand why they deserve such deference, but how on earth can they in good conscience reciprocate. For so long, this imbalance has been accepted by both sides. It stands to reason that the more exacting is more authentic, and so the deference of Beit Hillel, should be expected. But isn’t the model presented by Chazal through these two disputants cautioning us against this assumption?

Both sides are learned, both sides intentions are honorable, both sides share language, and both submit to the Torah’s authority. These contenders agree upon way too much, to dismiss the other.
The Talmud states that they need each other. God lives in both of them.

Why is it now that when one side does not abide by the stringencies of the other it is perceived as less committed and that the shared value system of Hillel and Shammai come into question. Ironically, the sages who are interested in promoting the Torah bear witness to Beit Hillel’s perspective as the one most suitable to the way we live while Beit Shammai is relegated to the future more perfect world.

It is Hillel who understands that the word Machloket does not mean dispute, but two different portions, each one part of the same whole. No matter how different, each is connected by compatible language, commitment, and scholarship.

I marvel at the fact that it is these unique personalities that evolve into schools of thought , and are never fully separate from those origins. That the Sages are aware of this and fully acknowledge that in the end all concepts are never fully objective, but always connected to and limited by the feelings and the behavior of the individual, is profound. Moreover, their bias is for the humble and generous spirit of Hillel.

Just like Hillel, it was Rabbi Froman’s shared commitments that allowed him to remain as the spiritual leader of Tekoa.

To be continued…

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 3,000 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 5 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

Granted that all diners should be insulated from unflattering descriptions while they are patronizing an establishment that should be dedicated to their pleasure and comfort. Granted that the waiter should have at least been suspended if not fired. Granted that instead of offering a twenty-five percent discount, the manager should have comped the bill immediately. I’m just amazed that insulting a customer garnered so much attention.

Was this the first time that she had been made aware that others notice that she was overweight? Or was it the fact that someone had the temerity to bluntly express what he was thinking?

The truth is that intention matters here. If the waiter was harried and was trying to give a defining quality to the table beyond the table number, and did not think that the offending description would be noticed, then his insensitivity might be understandable. If, he was having a laugh at someone else’s expense, then a plague on his house and anyone else who thought it was funny.

It is a reflection of society that “thin” or even “skinny” is never considered pejorative. “Fat” however, as evidenced by this reaction, has become an expletive, and not merely a description. A person can describe himself as fat, but woe to the one who would use this word to define others. “Blondes”, “Old ladies/guys”, would have never elicited such a reaction, but labeling someone fat is the same as calling someone “crippled”. Fat which is so normative in this society, is, somehow, considered abnormal. While labeling someone as drunk would probably not provoke the same response, calling someone fat is crossing the line, It’s not done, it’s offensive, even if it’s accurate.

The worse problem is the society that would judge a person who is overweight as somehow inferior, as someone who is less than the rest of us. So prevalent is this understanding that calling someone “fat” is accepted as name calling, even when it might  have been done without malice, but merely without thinking.

I marvel at the fact that once “Rubenesque” women represented an ideal of beauty, and it was the skinny people who were objects of ridicule. Does anyone remember the Joe Tex song “Skinny legs and all”?

The Talmud is very explicit that we must be vigilant when addressing others, and that we are responsible for ensuring that we do not hurt anyone’s feelings. “If you knew that there had been an execution by hanging in your friend’s family, do not say, ‘Hang this fish on a hook for me’ (Talmud, Bava Metziya 59b) Certainly, if we knew someone was sensitive about her weight, we should avoid the subject altogether, but one has to wonder why something as pervasive as obesity in absolute numbers, has not made a dent in making it more acceptable. 

Does anyone think that this societal obsession will be changing anytime soon?

Fat chance.

So says the Mishna in Ta’anit, after which the renowned Honi HaMa’agel taunts God into making it rain exactly in accord with his request.  Honi does his job so well that people must evacuate their homes because of the flooding. The people plead for him to shut off the faucet. Honi demurs, and from that refusal, a rabbinic edict follows. Pray for rain to come, but don’t pray for it to stop.

When I was traveling with my family cross country in August, I vividly recall the parched corn fields of Illinois and Missouri. After so many weeks of relentless heat, I wonder if the heartlanders would have welcomed a hurricane that brought the promise of thirty-six hours of blessed rain. Rain that would undoubtedly ravage crops, but fill the “cisterns and reservoirs”.  Maybe it takes a drought to see the blessing of wind swept  rain that inspires awe but brings darkness to the city.

For some inexplicable reason, the strong winds have yet to extinguish the electric sparks of hearth and home. We lose power so often here that this welcome reprieve seems more than fortuitous. The wind is loud, and constant. My New Zealand wife scoffs at this weather, and declares that in Wellington this would be considered merely a windy day. No worry for flying debris in NZ, everything that wasn’t nailed down blew away years ago.

Torah is like water. It nurtures, and it runs to the low places where it is received by the modest and humble. The wind never stops, but sometimes it needs to remind us that it is here, and that it matters. Torah can make peace, but often brings fury like a hurricane. It is possible to care too much, and only after everything dies down does one reflect on what may have been destroyed. Such is the price of passion.

It is nearly one o’clock in the morning. The gleeful meteorologists celebrate these storms like Purim savoring the nuances of low pressure systems. I gratefully write accompanied by Edison’s miracle with nature’s fury in the background.

I’m at peace. .

The Kotel and Jerusalem itself have long been conceded to the Ultra-Orthodox. Secular and even Modern Orthodox Jews have been fleeing Jerusalem for the last decade. Over half of first grade children in Jerusalem are haredi, and the numbers are climbing. The tax base of Jerusalem is less than the development town of Ma’alot because of the hundreds of thousands of Kollel students feeding off the public trough.

What does all this mean? Most secular Israelis who are not openly hostile to religion, consider themselves non, or lightly practicing Orthodox Jews and just as they are not breaking down the doors to enter Conservative or Reform synagogues, they are not going to get their knickers in a twist about the praying rights of women at the Kotel. Add to this, the little known statistic that the vast majority of Israelis have never even visited Jerusalem, and you will understand why this issue has gained so little traction in the past two decades. The only thing thing that concerns the Israeli government about the Kotel is whether the paratroopers can have their swearing in ceremony there. Other than that, it’s considered a place of archaeological curiosity. As long as the tourists are allowed to peruse the antiquities, let the dossim have a free hand.

Back in the eighties when “Who Is a Jew” was the hot button issue, Rabbi Alexander Shindler had come from the States to lobby the Knesset, and held a press conference. At the time, I was studying in a yeshiva by day, and working as a stringer for a wire service by night. I also was an unofficial translator for much of the foreign press corps. (Talk about a schizo existence.) Often, members of the foreign press would ask for background concerning religious issues, since I was usually the only observant person they knew. At one time, I wanted to change my name to be “Religious Sources” since that was how my information was often referenced. A correspondent of a Chicago paper was curious about the issue, and couldn’t understand why it hadn’t been resolved after millennia of discussion. He also wondered what the argument was all about, and if Israel was a primarily secular country, where was the public outrage?

Of course, the answer then was that religious parties were essential for a coalition government, and these were relatively easy concessions for the majority party to make. If, however, there were say sixty or seventy thousand non-Orthodox religious Jews who cared enough to give the Labor party three more seats, then the coalition would no longer need the religious parties but until that happens, don’t expect to see much change.

The same is true in this case. Either a bunch of serious Reform and Conservative Jews are going to have to pack their bags and move to Israel, or one hundred thousand Israelis are going to have to find God in pews without a mechitza. I think we have a better chance of seeing the Messiah come before that dream is realized, but given the current US unemployment stats, I could be mistaken.

In a classic micro reading, the Midrash asks: We’ve already been told that the city was great with people, what does “great among the nations” teach us?

It teaches that the people were great in wisdom. Rabbi Huna in the name of Rabbi Yossi said: Whenever a Jerusalemite would travel abroad, they would place him on a throne in order to hear his wisdom.

Once there was an older man who went abroad from Jerusalem. He stayed with  friend there until he became ill. He entrusted his friend with the deeds to all his property and asked him to hold them in trust for his son. If his son demonstrated three acts of wisdom, his son would inherit, but if he didn’t do so, the man was instructed not to transfer the deeds to his son. They made a pact hat no one was to tell the son where this man lived.  The son arrived in Athens, and knew the man’s name, but nothing else. He saw a man selling bundles of kindling, and asked the man if he would deliver the kindling to this man’s house, and then he followed from behind. The woodsman called out to the man and told him to take his wood. The man answered, “Did I order the wood from you?” The woodsman said ,”No, but the man behind me ordered me to deliver the wood to you.” That counts as one act of wisdom.  The man went to greet the son and asked him who he was, and then immediately invited him in for a meal. The man brought his wife, his two sons and his two daughters for a midday meal.  The main course was five cornish hens The man told the son to divide up the food among himself and the family. The son politely said that it was not his place to do so, but the man insisted.

The son gave one hen to the husband and wife. Then he gave one to  the two sons, and one to the two daughters. He then kept the remaining two for himself.  No one said a word.

That evening, the man brought out a large chicken and asked the son to divide it up among everyone. The son politely refused saying that it was not his place to do so, but the man insisted. The son gave the head of the chicken to the man. He gave the innards to his wife. He gave the legs and thighs to the sons. He gave the wings to the daughters, and he kept the carcass for himself.

The man could not control himself and asked “Why have you divided the food in such an unseemly
way?”

The son answered, “Did I not tell you that this food was not mine to split up, but nevertheless I did it appropriately.  The first time, I gave you and your wife one chicken. Together, that numbers three heads.  I gave your two sons one chicken and that’s three heads. I then gave your daughters one chicken and that’s three heads.  Since there is only one of me I needed two chickens to count as three in order to divide them equally.

Once again you brought out a chicken and asked me to split it up, and I declined, but you still insisted. And once again I did it properly. I gave you the head because you are the head of the household. Your wife got the innards, because that’s where her children came from. Your sons got the legs because they are the pillars of the family. And the daughters got the wings because some day they will marry and fly away from here. I took the carcass which is shaped like a boat because I came to Athens on a boat and on a boat I shall leave once you have given me my inheritance. So give it to me, and I’ll be on my way. And so it was. (Eicha Rabba 1:4)

This is the first of many short narratives that have similar themes. They always end with the Jerusalemite using cleverness to his advantage in a way that the unsuspecting Athenian cannot deny. All the stories are funny, and it is stunning to find them as commentary on the saddest book of the Bible! In fact I know of no other place in Rabbinic literature where such an extensive digression of this kind takes place. Why here, of all places? Why are these the examples of the kind of Jewish acumen that was noted among the gentiles?

Eicha Rabba dates back to the fifth century, a time when the impact of he second exile still resonated deeply. At first these stories look like a manifestation of impotent rage–a way to feel superior when all evidence is to the contrary, but  what prompted the editor to tell these stories here? It was the apparent redundancy in the first verse, of reiterating that the city was great. The triumphalism of the midrash is in stark contrast to the bleak mood of Lamentations. This particular expression of Jewish exceptionalism is all too familiar. It is incredible to realize how ancient this self perception is vis-a-vis our non-Jewish neighbors.  It is also not altogether unfamiliar to find this  typical Jewish one up-man-ship amidst the most tragic of circumstances, but to chalk it off to being just an example of the pathos of Jewish humor might be missing the point.

This is a comment on how little such cleverness matters. There are pitfalls to being exceptional in that there is a tendency to believe in ones own public relations. It inspires jealousy, resentment and sometimes retribution. It may be significant to others, but it should mean very little to ourselves. In the end, the great city and her oh so brilliant inhabitants end up desolate and in servitude. The witty repartee that carried us into exile must have been cold comfort.

All that wisdom  has served to make the exile that much more painful. In the end, we have a few funny stories with which to salve our wounds.

Because the Bar Kochba Rebellion (132–136 CE), had such a tragic ending, Jewish civilization retreated into the life of the mind. As in these ancient stories, Jews, by and large, make their mark in using their wits not only in Talmud, but even in ways that the world can appreciate.  We who take pride in Jewish professional athletes know that if we wished, we could easily remember all their names,  but try and name all the Jewish Nobel Prize winners…

Much to the great relief to many and consternation to some, the Jewish army of the State of Israel has brought us back to being a nation that does not only have to rely on its witty rejoinders for solace.  These are the jokes of exile but not of a nation. Nowadays, just when we think that we stand among the nations as equals, the nations of the world remind us that we are tolerated but don’t really belong. The Munich massacre of 1972 was only an assault on Jews, and had nothing to do with the Olympics, and so therefore, there is no reason to devote even a minute to their memory, on this, the fortieth anniversary. This is a private affair, it has nothing to do with the Olympics of 2012.

Even Israel, with her great Jewish army, is finding out that with all the achievements it has made on the world stage, the necessity for a few good jokes has yet to pass.  The more things change…

Lost in the discussion is any interest in what the Halacha might say that would maybe temper the discussion, and guide the way for more orderly, and dare I say, more civil proceedings.  Having witnessed, and unfortunately participated, in such a debacle, it at least aroused in me a need to review halachic literature on how one should go about dealing with a situation when the rabbi’s future is  in question.

As one may expect, the general tendency is to favor the standing rabbi unless he has done something so egregious that his moral authority lacks credibility.  If he has become merely unpopular, or out of touch, these alone are not automatically considered grounds for dismissal or non renewal of his contract. There are other remedies, compromises if you will, suggested in the literature that try to mollify the community such as bringing on an assistant rabbi, or a co-rabbi that would be more to the liking of the community.

There are other opinions that would side with the community if the vast majority were dissatisfied.  In most circumstances, where the community is split, if the rabbi finds such a reality acceptable, and is fulfilling his role responsibly, than he is on pretty firm ground virtually according to everyone. This is usually the backdrop for a breakaway minyan–a time honored tradition in all congregational life.

I was curious to know the textual justification for why the rabbi was afforded these protections–at least by the halacha. What I have found, fascinated me, and for whatever they are worth, I have some insights and comments to make on the sources and how they are understood.

In the Talmudic tractate Brachot 28a, there is the story of an ongoing dispute between Rabban Gamliel, the Nasi, the president of the rabbinic leadership and Rabbi Yehoshua who was known for his brilliance and his propensity to disagree with the president.  When it became known that Rabbi Yehoshua had once again contradicted one of Rabban Gamliel’s decisions, Rabban Gamliel publicly humiliated Rabbi Yeshoshua, and this was not the only time he had done so. The rabbis take umbrage and decide to depose Rabban Gamliel and appoint Rabbi Eliezer Ben Azaryah as the new Nasi.

In the meantime, Rabban Gamliel, realizing his future as the Nasi is in jeopardy, apologizes to Rabbi Yehoshua which puts the rabbis in a quandary. Now that Rabban Gamliel has apologized, the grounds for removing him are no longer valid, but once they offered the position to Rabbi Eliezer Ben Azaryah it cannot be rescinded. Why not? Because of a Talmudic principle that asserts “One can cause an ascent in holiness, but cannot be the cause of its decline.”

In all but one other instance, this principle applies to ritual objects. For instance, when selling a Torah, the proceeds could only be used for objects that were equally or more holy. You couldn’t  buy a Torah breastplate with the proceeds from the sale of a Torah. You could, however, buy a Torah with the proceeds from the sale of a breastplate. The Torah being considered an “upgrade” from the breastplate.

This principle is learned in two different places in the Torah from verses dealing with the Tabernacle in one place and the fringes of a prayer shawl in another. It is also applied when the High Priest, for reason of unexpected impurity, is unable to perform the rituals on Yom Kippur. An appointed  deputy replaces him, but once that has happened the deputy remains in the position of high priest and may not be returned to  his previous  position.

In the story of Rabban Gamliel and Rabbi Yehoshua, however, the principle is applied to rabbinic roles where character flaws are considered grounds for removing Rabban Gamliel, but barring such blatant behavior and this only after it happened repeatedly, Rabban Gamliel’s position as Nasi would have remained secure.

The interesting move of this story is to make the Rabbinic position on par with that of either the High Priest in the  Temple, or somehow on par with the sanctity of sacred objects. The study and teaching of Torah was being promoted as central to Jewish life as were the rituals in the Temple. It is this story that sets the stage for the sanctity of rabbinic authority after the destruction of the Temple. If this had not been established prior to the destruction, one can only wonder what might have transpired.

The story teaches that  the feelings, or the dignity of an individual rabbi is not only an offense against him, but  the Torah itself.  Unlike the Priest, this honor is not a birthright, but is merited by the hard work and recognition of peers that the individual in fact is one who embodies the acumen and qualities of a scholar and  thereby deserves to be objectified in the highest sense of the word. He is, for all intents and purposes, the Torah.

This begs the question of whether the modern rabbi nowadays is presumed to have these qualities, or as is often the case is mostly an officiant who primarily is there to serve the pastoral needs and experiences of the community.  This is particularly problematic in a modern Orthodox setting where prevailing opinions pay lip service to one quality but truly value the officiant who is perceived to be on the same wavelength as the community.

The conflict arises when said rabbi exemplifies the Torah of  Rabbi Yehoshua and Rabban Gamliel  but does not fulfill the expectations of what many in the  community have come to expect, that being, more the modern rabbi, and less the “Rav”.

Maybe if people looked at what the Talmud and poskim (legal decisors), considered criteria for who was considered to be a “Rav”, then  they would come to the conclusion that it is time for them to change and not change what it means to be the “Rav”.