B & B

Judaism, Summer-Fall, 2003 by Arnold Jacob Wolf

I am not the first to link the appearance of remarkable volumes of American Jewish thought and to review them together. Peter Ochs, a trustworthy interpreter of this literature, evaluates Eugene Borowitz's anthology Studies in the Meaning of Judaism and Eliezer Berkovits's Essential Essays on Judaism in tandem. (1) Ochs calls these collections a superb "framework for American Jewish dialogue." (2)

Ochs is right to consider Berkovitz the most useful interpreter of modern Orthodoxy (since "the Rav" is an exception to all rules) who has, like Borowitz from the other shore, been able to "show us a way to bring liberal and orthopractic Jews into theological dialogue." For Ochs, Borowitz is a model of movement, growth, and finally a decisive break-through into post-modern theology. Berkovits has made his own powerful break-through in freeing Orthodoxy from its self-imposed chains and making the old Halakha vividly live again in the modern world.

Berkovits combines traditional faith with an open-minded search:

      That Tora is "from heaven," min hashamayim, so I believe: but I
      cannot help recognizing that the fact that I so believe does not
      make my belief a faith that is itself from heaven. The Tora is
      from heaven, but my faith that it is so is not; neither is my
      interpretation of the meaning and consequences of that faith from
      heaven. If so, how can we deny Conservative and Reform rabbis and
      scholars the right to their interpretation? Of course, we Orthodox
      are the only Jews faithful to the demands of Tora. But no matter
      how much we insist on this, it will, nevertheless, remain our own
      subjective insistence. Could not, then, our non-Orthodox brothers
      and sisters turn to us and say with equal right, since our
      interpretation of Tora and Judaism is mistaken, that we do not
      represent "Tora-true" Judaism and that only theirs is the true
      way? (3)

He holds that there once was a time for caution, but that now is a time for opening up the Jewish legal system in ways already foreshadowed in Rabbinic texts:

      Orthodoxy is, in a sense, halacha in a self-woven straitjacket.
      Having had to transform the Oral Tora into a new written one, we
      have become Karaites of this new Written Tora, forced upon us by
      external circumstances. It was part of the spiritual tragedy of
      the exile that exactly what halacha in its original vitality and
      wisdom intended to protect us from has happened. In a sense, we
      have become Karaites. God can no longer rejoice over his "defeat"
      by his children. It is a condition we have had to accept. It is
      the price we have paid for the preservation of our identity and
      Jewish survival. Today, however, we are faced with unprecedented
      new challenges, problems of a true halachic nature, which require
      solutions in the true halachic spirit. (4)

      The inflexibility of Judaism, as it has been handed down since the
      conclusion of the Talmud, is not of the essence of Judaism. The
      static quality is certainly no religious dogma or article of
      faith. Had it been so, the exigencies of our life would have
      jettisoned such a belief long ago, without endangering the
      essential contents of Judaism. As it is, the rigidity is something
      far more serious, for it is a concrete fact. Judaism has indeed
      lost its flexibility, its strength of development. You may
      override principles; you cannot overlook historic facts. For that
      reason, any attempt to reform or reshape Judaism must fail. Reform
      is only possible where there is flexibility. It is folly to treat
      Judaism today as if it were flexible. Whoever tries to break its
      rigidity is not building anything new; he is only destroying the
      old mold that was useful for so many centuries, and that even
      today is more useful than the shortsighted innovations by which
      reformist bodies are bringing about the dissolution of Judaism.
      Before we can begin to address the predicament of modern Jewry
      with any hope of success, Judaism must regain its original
      capacity for development. Nothing will be achieved, and we shall
      ultimately face disaster, if we fail to understand this. Before
      anything can be done to overcome the dualism of our modern
      existence, we shall have to bring about those conditions in which
      alone may Judaism unfold itself naturally, in the line of previous
      Jewish history. (5)

Diaspora Judaism created the great rules and principles of Judaism. We must always give our long exile its due. But it is, for Berkovits, the new state of Israel that gives us hope for a rediscovered obedience and creativity.

      In exile, halacha is Jewish existence, managed via the Tora, in
      spite of a form of life and culture that is alien to the spirit of
      Judaism. On the defensive, halacha becomes stunted in its creative
      capacity. This has far-reaching consequences for its very nature.
      Halacha as the application of general principles to changing
      particulars, once again to use Albo's formulation, needs the
      challenge of those "particulars," the challenge emanating from the
      situation of the Jewish people at a given time. It needs the
      challenge of a situation that is Jewish, not because it is endured
      by Jews, but because, in its physical and mundane structure, it is
      the work of the Jewish people. That, alone, is the authentic
      challenge to halacha. Only in response to this challenge can
      halacha become creative, formulating the eternal work of the Tora
      for the new hour, the hour of new "particulars." (6)