Author: Eric Fisher and Katie Greenberg
Elliot Dorff, Ethics at the Center: Jewish Theory and Practice for Living a Moral Life. University of Nebraska Press, 2024
In A Theory of Justice (1971), John Rawls introduced the method of reflective equilibrium to describe the process by which we reconcile our individual moral judgments and intuitions with philosophical principles. According to Rawls, arriving at a moral position requires an ongoing negotiation between our considered real-world convictions about morality, on the one hand, and abstract principles, on the other, until we arrive at a place where all these varied considerations fit together into one coherent understanding. For Rawls, the practice of reflective equilibrium helps us navigate the moral missteps that can arise from overreliance on broad ethical formulas and principles, while also correcting for the indeterminacy and bias that comes from an ethics focused excessively on our individual moral intuitions and convictions.
In Ethics at the Center: Jewish Theory and Practice for Living a Moral Life (2024), Elliot Dorff models a similar approach to ethics through a Jewish lens. In varied contexts, Rabbi Dorff shows how “living a moral life” as a Jew requires a willingness to engage deeply with the principles that emerge from Jewish texts and to bring those principles into conversation with our individual and often evolving moral convictions. In this anthology, Rabbi Dorff adapts selections from his wide-ranging articles and responsa on varied topics in Jewish ethics, providing a window into how he, as a leading voice for Conservative Judaism, has wrestled over time with evolving ethical questions through the lens of Jewish texts and his own moral intuitions.
Rabbi Dorff’s chapter on providing aid in dying demonstrates how he views Jewish ethics as an evolving and iterative practice rather than an abstract appeal to unyielding rules and principles. Here he reflects on the factors that caused him to change his own views on this issue. In 1997, he authored a categorical responsum forbidding “assisted suicide.” Revisiting the issue more than two decades later, in 2020, he authored a new responsum that carved out “narrow exceptions to the general prohibition on seeking or offering aid in dying” (p. 59), including extending medical aid to those expected to die soon and suffering uncontrollable pain.”
In the 2020 responsum, Rabbi Dorff discusses how the nomenclature he used in the earlier responsum, “assisted suicide,” was part of what obscured for him the ethical nuances of the issue. The more neutral term, “aid in dying,” as well as developments in US and Canadian law since the 1997 responsum concerning “death with dignity,” helped him to appreciate the ethical stakes with greater complexity and nuance. In contrast to his 1997 responsum, Rabbi Dorff understands his 2020 responsum, which gives greater weight to the interests of those suffering with late-stage disease, to put an emphasis on the notion that “God’s compassion embraces all God’s creations” (Psalm 145:9).
A secular ethicist might understand this evolution in thought as striking a different balance between the sometimes competing values of promoting human life and compassion for individual suffering based upon evolving societal understandings. But as Rabbi Dorff conceptualizes his own life’s project, as a religious Jew, he sees himself as rebalancing values that are all contained within God’s revelation in order to arrive at a truer expression of that revelation. In most of the varied and wide-ranging topics covered in the volume—abortion, war, sexual identity, and more—Rabbi Dorff shows us how he discerns moral principles in the biblical and rabbinic textual traditions and then brings those principles into dialogue with contemporary circumstances and his own moral insight to arrive at a coherent Jewish ethical perspective, if not necessarily a normative pronouncement.
Although Rabbi Dorff asserts that God is the source of moral norms and explores his concept of God in the book’s early chapters, it is not at all clear how much his ethics actually are reliant on any specific metaphysical claims. On topic after topic, he admirably “shows his work,” putting his own positionality and personal intuitions into dialogue with the Jewish tradition. Yet it seems important to him to maintain some deniability around this practice, as he wishes to retain a sense that the source of Jewish ethics lies outside of human agency in an authoritative tradition based on divine revelation.
In this regard, Rabbi Dorff includes in the book an interesting series of exchanges with Eugene Borowitz (1924–2016), a leading liberal theologian and ethicist associated with Reform Judaism, about the extent to which the moral judgments of individual Jews are a basis for ethical decision-making (76-90). Throughout the exchange, Rabbi Dorff resists Dr. Borowitz’s arguments about the importance to be afforded to the ethical reasoning of individual Jews. One senses that Rabbi Dorff is reinforcing a denominational boundary, seeking to draw a sharp distinction between Conservative and Reform Judaism based upon the former’s professed commitment to Jewish law as normative and authoritative. But if the exchange is included in the volume to highlight a distinction between Rabbi Dorff’s approach to Jewish ethics and that of Dr. Borowitz, the reader comes away from the exchange with a sense that the approaches are much more similar than they are different. As Dr. Borowitz explains, both he and Rabbi Dorff acknowledge that “there is a significant human factor in revelation” (p. 83), so they are in much the same situation of using their individual abilities to reason morally in light of the tradition in order to arrive at Jewish responses to ethical issues.
Speaking with admiration for Rabbi Dorff, Dr. Borowitz explains that he finds Rabbi Dorff’s writing about Jewish ethics “persuasive” precisely because of Rabbi Dorff’s qualities as a person. The “self makes itself felt even in legal decision-making. One factor in decision-making is simply who you are as a person and how you act on that individuality. Were you a different person, you would not be the posek (decisor) we know you to be, the author of your shitah (approach)” (84). Readers of this volume will come away with a sense of deep appreciation for Rabbi Dorff’s shitah, which involves epistemological humility and a willingness to work and rework the often conflicting ethical insights of the Jewish tradition until they reach, at least provisionally, reflective equilibrium.
Eric B. Fisher, an attorney practicing in the field of commercial litigation and a rabbinical student at the Academy for Jewish Religion, is passionate about Jewish text study.
Arnold Eisen, Seeking the Hiding God: A Personal Theological Essay. Ben Yehuda Press, 2024
Jews often do not feel comfortable talking about God. We are stereotypically more comfortable talking about history, law, and Jewish texts. Professor Arnold Eisen, in his new book Seeking the Hiding God: A Personal Theological Essay, encourages us to dive into our personal theologies to see what we find. In the beginning of the book, he writes: “Jews rarely pause to take stock of the big questions of life, and almost never discuss them with our children…. I gladly seize the chance to face them” (45). He models this quest for theological answers by tackling many difficult subjects in the book and how he has approached God and religious belief throughout his life.
Professor Eisen writes the book as if the reader were his ḥevruta, study partner. It is meant to be a dialogue and an exchange of ideas. He writes that “nothing truly important in life can be learned alone and nothing significant can be learned without questioning and challenge.” He models this mode of learning by including imaginary letters between himself and different friends about their differing approaches to Judaism and theology. They disagree and challenge each other in the letters with love and respect. It is a different modality to approach theology, one I found to be very engaging.
As a graduate of the rabbinical school of the Jewish Theological Seminary, I have had many opportunities to engage with the scholarly work of Dr. Eisen. He was the chancellor when I was in school, and we read many of his articles and books and got the chance to hear him speak on many occasions. Seeking the Hiding God is the most accessible and personal piece of writing I have encountered. It is not esoteric and full of academic jargon. On the contrary, it is full of Eisen’s embodied lived experience. There is mention of laughter, crying, and feeling unmoored. He shares many deeply personal stories, including the death of his siblings, dancing with overflowing gratitude when his daughter was born, and an ecstatic experience he had while viewing the Webb telescope images. Eisen ends the book with a beautiful love letter to his wife, the scholar Ace Leveen, in which he writes that just as Shabbat has anchored his weeks, she has anchored his life.
A recurring theme in the book is love and how it brings transcendence. He talks about love for his parents, his wife, his kids, and his grandkids. And over and over he talks about his love for God. He writes that “Love is the connective tissue linking us to God—and via God, to one another. One can imagine it as some sort of umbilical cord that has nourished humanity from the infancy of the race and continues to do so ever after” (134). I found the image of God as a mother who has birthed us to be striking and resonant. Eisen rereads the first sentence of the Veʾahavta prayer to read not “love the Lord your God” but “love with the Lord your God.” When we love our neighbor it is because God loves our neighbor and God loves us. It is God’s love that transcends all differences.
I found one of Eisen’s stories particularly moving. When he went to Jerusalem for the first time, he was struck by the fact that the city seemed extremely religious. Yet, at the Western Wall, he did not find himself particularly moved, so he prayed for God to give him a prayer. Seconds later, a piece of a siddur flew toward him with the Ashrei prayer on it, specifically the line “Happy are those who dwell in Your house. They will praise You forever.” He has kept the piece of paper with him ever since. This story seems to resonate with Eisen’s idea of God loving us. Eisen is not sure that the prayer was from God, but one way to read that experience is that God sent him the gift of that prayer. As he writes “some verses, on some days, know me better than I know myself” (177).
Eisen does not shy away from the more complicated and difficult aspects of theology. He writes about yearning for God, who is constantly hiding. Eisen describes this experience as painful and at the same time a creative gift. He also addresses in his epilogue how much harder all these conversations and ideas are in a post–October 7th world. There are days when God feels absent, and it is hard to see how redemption will come from this bloody and horrific time. He writes that the answer is “do as much good as you can, for as long as you live…there will be blessing and not just curse, there will be life fighting death, if we choose life as best as we can” (215). He acknowledges that there are days when this wisdom will seem utterly inadequate and others when it will seem like the ultimate wisdom.
The book is an invitation into a conversation with yourself and those you love around what your theological beliefs are. It is not meant to sit on an academic shelf. It is meant to be used as a catalyst for discussions we do not often have the emotional courage to engage in. Eisen encourages us, through his own lived reality and experiences, to examine our own stories and see what theological nuggets we can find and then share them with others.
Rabbi Katie Greenberg is the Rabbi-Director of Engagement and Programming at CSAIR in Bronx, New York. She was ordained from the Jewish Theological Seminary, where she received a master’s degree in education as well as a certificate in pastoral care.
Introduction
This model of halakhic education was designed at the Seminario Rabínico and is currently being implemented, with full realization expected in 2026. The teaching of Halakhah is central to rabbinical education. At the Seminario Rabínico, we are not simply transmitting rules but are forming rabbis capable of independent judgment, who can address the realities of contemporary Jewish life with creativity and integrity. Students are being trained to “think halakhically”: to approach sources critically, apply them to new circumstances, and guide communities responsibly.
I also wish to acknowledge with gratitude some of my own teachers and mentors in Halakhah, in particular Rabbis Abraham Skorka, Shmuel Glick, David Golinkin, Joel Roth, and Reuven Hammer, whose guidance and scholarship have deeply influenced this work and the vision behind it.
Naturally, every student will ultimately need to know the psak—the final halakhic ruling, the halakhah lema‘aseh—on a given issue. Yet the distinctive emphasis of the Seminario’s pedagogy lies in the process rather than in the outcome alone. By training students to follow the full chain of reasoning—from the identification of a problem through the consultation of sources to the weighing of precedents—the program is cultivating habits of thought that can be applied to new and unforeseen situations. The goal is to form rabbis who are not dependent on pre-formulated answers, but who are developing the intellectual independence to engage the tradition in any context.
A hallmark of this approach is the “text-based case study” method, which combines close reading of classical texts with practical problem-solving. Students are exploring real and hypothetical dilemmas—such as Shabbat observance in technological contexts, kashrut in regions with limited infrastructure, or bioethical questions—and are being guided through the process of consulting sources, weighing precedents, and formulating answers.
To support this process, the broader program is comprising roughly thirty courses across Talmud and Halakhah. Within this structure, the time devoted specifically to Halakhah is being divided into eighteen course-equivalents: twelve focused on textual mastery and six on case-based practice. In parallel, twelve courses in Talmud are equipping students with the analytical skills and sugyot foundations that undergird halakhic reasoning.
Historical Background and Philosophical Foundations
The Seminario is building on two distinct yet complementary legacies. From the classical yeshivot, it inherited the emphasis on mastery of Talmud, codes, and responsa as the indispensable foundation of rabbinic authority. Students are expected to know the sources in depth and to navigate the dialectical reasoning that characterizes traditional halakhic discourse.
At the same time, the Seminario is incorporating the methods of modern academic scholarship, particularly the historical and philological study of Jewish sources. From the beginning, biblical criticism, historical contextualization, and close textual analysis have been informing the way students are being trained to approach tradition. This dual commitment—to the rigor of yeshiva learning and to the tools of academic research—is giving the Seminario its distinctive identity and positioning it within the broader Masorti/Conservative movement.
Philosophically, Halakhah is being taught as an ongoing conversation. Texts are binding, but their application depends on interpretation. Students are learning not to reproduce fixed answers but to engage responsibly with sources in light of community realities. Pluralism is central: multiple legitimate interpretations are being acknowledged, and rabbinic authority is being understood as something earned through knowledge and pastoral sensitivity rather than imposed hierarchically.
This balance—serious textual study, methodological rigor, and openness to real-life challenges—is defining the Seminario’s distinctive contribution as the program moves toward full implementation.
Curriculum
The halakhic curriculum at the Seminario is being structured on two complementary pillars: intensive textual study and systematic case-based learning. Together, the time devoted to Halakhah is being divided into eighteen course-equivalents: twelve focused on textual mastery and six on case-based practice.
Textual Formation (12 courses).
These courses are being implemented in a reverse education model. Students first prepare the material individually, then study it in havruta (paired learning), and finally participate in classroom sessions where faculty deepen, refine, and challenge their understanding. This structure is ensuring that learning is active, student-driven, and oriented toward critical engagement.
The twelve courses are covering the full breadth of halakhic sources and include:
–Two courses on halakhic processes, focused on methodology and the dynamics of decision-making.
–Four courses on the Shulchan Arukh, one for each of its sections (Orach Chayim, Yoreh De’ah, Even HaEzer, Choshen Mishpat), studied with their principal commentaries. These courses are not aimed only at reaching the halakhah lema‘aseh but also at engaging in comparative analysis with other foundational codes such as the Mishneh Torah, the Tur, the Rif, and others.
– Two courses on the poskim, covering medieval through modern authorities.
–Four courses on responsa, divided between classical responsa and modern responsa. The modern track includes responsa of the Masorti/Conservative and Reform movements, as well as Orthodox authorities, in particular the writings of Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef and Rabbi Moshe Feinstein.
Case-Based Formation (6 courses).
In parallel, six course-equivalents are being dedicated to the case study track. These are not traditional lecture courses but laboratories of practice: the faculty are presenting or proposing cases, students are working on them in groups, and then the class is reconvening to deliberate solutions. Over the years, more than one hundred cases have been developed, and new ones are being added annually in dialogue with the students themselves. The six case-study courses are being distributed across the curriculum, providing continuous training that complements and deepens the textual study.
The repertoire of cases is covering a wide spectrum of dilemmas, from Shabbat and kashrut to bioethics, technology, gender, and interfaith family issues. In the current period, particular attention is being given to exploring the implications of artificial intelligence in Jewish life—its role in decision-making, ritual practice, and the ethical challenges it raises for communities. In collaboration with the Universidad Abarbanel, the Seminario is also developing a conversational AI trained to respond to halakhic questions, an innovative project carried out jointly by students and faculty. This initiative is not only offering a laboratory for examining the interface of tradition and technology but is also allowing students to participate directly in shaping new tools for the future of halakhic discourse.
By dividing the time for Halakhah in this way—twelve courses of textual mastery and six of case-based work—the curriculum is ensuring that students are achieving both a comprehensive grasp of the sources and the ability to apply them creatively to real-life challenges.
Faculty and Mentorship
Courses are being taught by a faculty of halakhic specialists, many trained at the Seminario and others in leading institutions abroad. They combine academic rigor with a strong commitment to observance, modeling the integration of learning and practice.
Each student is being assigned a mentor who accompanies them throughout their rabbinical formation. Mentors are helping with personal halakhic questions, guiding methodological development, and fostering reflective habits of decision-making. This combination of expertise and mentorship is ensuring that students are growing not only as scholars but as rabbis with a clear halakhic voice.
An additional layer of the mentoring system is involving the students themselves. Those in advanced stages of their rabbinical studies are being encouraged to serve as mentors for junior students. This peer-to-peer mentorship is reinforcing learning on both sides: senior students consolidate their knowledge by teaching and guiding others, while newer students benefit from the support of colleagues who recently faced similar challenges. In this way, mentorship is becoming a communal process, strengthening the culture of collaborative learning that is accompanying the program’s implementation.
Impact on Rabbinical Identity
This integrated approach is shaping a rabbinical identity that is both authoritative and empathetic. Graduates are being trained to support congregants in their personal journeys of observance, encouraging growth without imposing rigid uniformity.
In diverse Latin American communities, rabbis must meet people where they are. The Seminario is equipping them to listen carefully, apply Halakhah authentically, and adapt responsibly. Authority is being expressed not as control but as guidance, enabling each person to discover their own path within Jewish law.
Such an identity is strengthening Jewish life by fostering communities that are both rooted in tradition and welcoming in practice.
Conclusion
The Seminario Rabínico has designed and is currently implementing a model of halakhic education that is at once rigorous and adaptable, with full implementation expected in 2026. By combining classical study, modern responsa, continuous case work, and personal mentorship, it is ensuring that rabbis are not passive transmitters of law but active interpreters who can guide their communities with wisdom and integrity.
In contexts where resources are limited and diversity is the norm, this model is providing rabbis with the tools to sustain and renew Jewish life. More broadly, it demonstrates that Halakhah remains vital when taught as both a tradition of texts and a practice of living engagement. By forming rabbis who can think halakhically, the Seminario is contributing to the strength of Latin American Jewry and to the ongoing vitality of the Masorti/Conservative movement worldwide.
Ariel Stofenmacher is the Rector of the Seminario Rabínico Latinoamericano and the Abarbanel University, and Head of the Department of Halakhah. He was ordained at the Seminario.
The first time I examined a volume of Talmud, I was not quite twelve years old. Rabbi Harold Bell, of blessed memory, then Director of Connecticut Region, United Synagogue Youth (USY), was spending the weekend with my home congregation in Northampton, Massachusetts. On Shabbat afternoon, he opened a Talmudic tome and showed a group of young students the Aramaic text, demonstrating how to identify the tractate and chapter, and where to find the commentary of Rashi and Tosafot. He explained the Talmud’s characteristic pagination.
He then pointed out small notations, handwritten in pencil, which appeared within the text and around its margins, and he asked us to guess what they might be. I theorized that the notes were his own, personal commentary on the Talmud. Flattered and bemused, Rabbi Bell smiled broadly at my innocent perception. He wistfully expressed hope that someday he would have the scholarly wherewithal to compose such a commentary. “No,” he explained. “Those are translations of words I had to look up in the dictionary.” The humble confession of this master pedagogue was a revelation! Even learned rabbis have more to learn! Jewish study is a lifelong process, challenging even for the accomplished scholar! It was one of the most transformative and freeing moments in my early Jewish education.
I had the profound privilege, over the next six years or so, to learn more from “Reb Tzvi” during my time as a member of Connecticut Region Kadimah and USY. While an undergraduate at the Jewish Theological Seminary (JTS), I reconnected with him when I returned to a USY Summer Encampment as an aide in the Seminary’s Recruitment Department. There I saw him pursuing his familiar, long-standing mission as a Jewish educator, and as an advocate and personal role model for committed halakhic observance in the context of the Conservative Movement.
Not long after our Summer camp reunion, Rabbi Bell left his USY post and joined the faculty of the Charles E. Smith Day School in Rockville, Maryland, one of the largest independent Jewish day schools in North America. There he chaired the rabbinics department and led the Prayer Program. He was also active in the Educators Assembly and a founding member of its Seaboard Region.
Rabbi Bell had earned his B.A. from Yeshiva University, a master’s degree from New York University, and was ordained by JTS, where he later earned his D.H.L. in Jewish Education. His doctoral dissertation was titled “Oral Torah Education.”
Alas, Rabbi Harold Bell, engaged to be married, died suddenly in 2005, at the age of fifty-nine. Both a comprehensive theoretical framework and a practical guide based on his fruitful (albeit too few) years of real-life, front line experience as a teacher of Rabbinics, Rabbi Bell’s “Oral Torah Education” is an invaluable resource in our continuing analysis of “Teaching Halakhah in the Conservative Movement.”
In Rabbi Bell’s 321-page dissertation, he explores a broad array of curricular and pedagogical challenges, too numerous and thoroughly developed for detailed analysis in this essay. These include, inter alia, the need to tailor the content of rabbinics curricula based on students’ personal levels of interest and religious commitment, the study of dinim versus the study of Talmud (“the apodictic versus the argumentative”), the effort to achieve balance in the study of halakhah and aggadah, “the possible counterproductivity of teaching ta’amei ha-mitzvot” (!), justification of rabbinics curricula in terms of theories of human development, the study of Oral Torah as a way of enriching one’s life, and, critically, “Role Models as the Most Significant Influence on Religious Behavior.” This final, essential aspect of “Oral Torah Education” merits careful examination in our current consideration of “Teaching Halakhah in the Conservative Movement.”
Role Models
The teaching of halakhah in a day school setting—or congregation or camp or seminary—is generally not intended to be an entirely academic exercise. Unless one is studying an area of Jewish Law no longer practicable in the twenty-first century (Hilkhot issurei hamizbeaḥ, ʿAvadim, Nezirut, etc.), a defining objective of teaching halakhah is its translation into practice: its willing, principled, and loving adoption by the student as a guide and code for everyday life.
Rabbi Bell warns that formal instruction, even by the most gifted of teachers, is insufficient for achieving this goal.
The classroom study of dinim and of the rationale for halacha and specific areas of halacha will, by themselves, have only a limited effect in encouraging greater religious observance. Indeed, the most significant role of classroom instruction is to reinforce existing behavior patterns, set by role models – e.g., parents, teachers, literary figures (such as rabbis), the school curriculum, peers, historical figures, etc. These role models are also found at school (both in and out of the classroom), at home, at youth group and camp settings, etc. As with any behavior, students are more likely to be inclined to observe halacha if their parents do so. Teachers who serve as accessible role models of observance of halacha can also influence students to do the same (though probably less so than their parents).1
It should be noted that teachers who, as a function of their own religious life and values, do not “serve as accessible role models of observance of halacha” nevertheless do indeed serve as “role models”—reinforcing and seemingly validating the all too common bifurcation between Jewish identity and religious observance.
It is particularly significant and instructive that Rabbi Bell includes among accessible role models the school curriculum itself. He explains:
The school curriculum (both the explicit curriculum and the “hidden” curriculum) also has an effect on a student’s commitment to halacha. The explicit curriculum can have an influence on the student’s attitude toward halacha by giving the study of halacha a prominent place in it…. The hidden curriculum also can influence attitudes. For example, by not allowing other activities during time set aside for t’fila, the school sends the message to the students that daily t’fila is an important value.2
The very act of elevating the place of halakhah in the school curriculum and culture serves the sacred goals of “Teaching Halakhah in the Conservative Movement”—and of influencing individual and communal behavior—even before classroom instruction begins. Analogous to the day school curriculum are the educational and programmatic priorities of the congregation, the culture of a summer camp, and the literary organs, rhetoric, standards, and activities of Conservative Movement affiliate organizations.
Also of special significance among the prospective role models identified by Rabbi Bell are peers. It is the responsibility of rabbis and educators to maximize the influence of peers by elevating their visibility and sense of mission.
Opportunities should be sought whereby students in one grade can serve as role models for younger students. An intergrade havruta program is one way to accomplish this. Through such a program, students in one grade can be prepared to teach rabbinic texts to a small group of students (2–4 students per group) in a lower grade... For example, 9th grade Honors Rabbinics students at the Charles E. Smith Jewish Day School taught G’mara from B’rachot which they had studied in grade 7 to havrutot of the current 7th graders.3
Rabbi Bell testifies to the direct benefits of such an arrangement:
1) The 9th graders, in preparing to teach the material, learned at least as much, if not more, than the 7th graders; 2) the students in both grades seemed to enjoy this interaction; and 3) the 7th graders gained an increased awareness of the commitment of a group of older students to serious study.4
The applications of this approach to camps and supplementary religious schools are obvious. In a congregational setting, cultivation of lay role models requires of the rabbi a measure of tsimtsum (humble self-contraction in action, privilege, and ego) that allows for others among her or his staff and laity to share in the role of teacher of halakhah. “Teaching Halakhah in the Conservative Movement” may, in the congregational setting, be the ultimate responsibility—but surely not the exclusive purview—of the rabbi. Adult as well as youth education efforts lend themselves to this expansive approach to teaching halakhah, as do opportunities for divrei Torah, tiqqun leil Shavuot, board and ritual committee deliberations. Naturally, as suggested above, the expansive nature of such “power sharing” is wisely to be balanced with a prudent and informed (indeed, discriminating) approach to selection of instructors.
Bat/bar mitzvah education is also an area of congregational life in which “The Teaching of Halakhah in the Conservative Movement” might be lent enhanced emphasis, in what Rabbi Bell terms both the “explicit” and the “hidden” curriculum. Student divrei Torah might be focused on the halakhic content of the parashah, the halakhic demands of the season, the halakhic implications of one’s newfound status as bar or bat mitzvah, or, indeed, on a reasoned analysis of the term “bar/bat mitzvah” itself.
“Mitzvah Projects” might not focus exclusively on philanthropy or social justice (as worthy as these causes surely are!), but include enhancing halakhic literacy and observance—by which I mean things like mastery of a body of halakhic literature, familiarization with responsa or the submission of a learned question to a rabbinic authority, examination and repair of congregational tallitot, or a campaign to increase observance of specific ritual mitzvot, whether mezuzah, Shabbat candle-lighting, Havdalah, sukkah, tefillin, daily prayer, or selected berakhot. Directing such bar/bat mitzvah student projects toward younger students (or involving them in the process) would, additionally, be perfectly in keeping with Rabbi Bell’s proposed ḥevruta approach.
The mere fact of including (and encouraging) such possibilities in selecting bar/bat mitzvah projects elevates the visibility, status, and standing of halakhah in the experience and perception of students at a formative moment in their Jewish development, again, even before actually embarking on formal study. Such an arrangement allows us to make of our young educational charges effective role models in their own right: resources that rabbinic and congregational leaders can, in the moment or subsequently, deftly mobilize in pursuing their own religious and educational objectives.
The biblical allusion in this article’s title, “A Bell and a Pomegranate,” is to the vestments of the kohen gadol (see Exodus 28:33-35). In his aptly titled volume, “Lectures to My Students,” celebrated Baptist leader and seminary educator Charles Spurgeon notes that “[t]he priest was to have in his robes bells and pomegranates; the one a figure of sound doctrine, and the other of a fruitful life.”5 The aptly named Rabbi Harold H. Bell, of blessed memory, demonstrated throughout his career that the bell alone, which conveys information through classroom instruction (lecturing our students, campers, and congregants, however sound the doctrine), is insufficient. We must direct our efforts in “The Teaching of Halakhah in the Conservative Movement” toward inspiring fruitful, joyful, willing, eager, thoughtful lives of Jewish piety and commitment. Rabbi Bell repeatedly demonstrates that we can accomplish this only by providing accessible role models and admirable exemplars of that lifestyle.
Rabbi Bell was himself a devoted, principled, and effective role model of traditional halakhic observance in the context of the Conservative Movement. Furthermore, he consistently placed the critical task of cultivating and empowering accessible religious role models at the very core of his leadership in both informal and formal Jewish educational settings.
Of the bells adorning the kohen gadol, Scripture states “its sound (literally, ‘his voice’) shall be heard (vayishama qolo) when he goes into the Holy Place before the Lord and when he comes out” (Exodus 28:35). If we are to take the challenge of “Teaching Halakhah in the Conservative Movement” to heart, we as Jewish professionals would do well to direct our attention to the voice, the sound doctrine of a gifted Bell. May we demand much of ourselves as halakhic role models and exemplars, and gratefully perceive among our colleagues, coworkers, constituents, and students invaluable and cherished partners in that indispensable process, as we occupy that Holy Place.
Years after my early introduction to Talmud at his hands, it was my privilege to participate together with Rabbi Bell in a Rabbinical Assembly convention. In a limmud session he led, we sat and studied halakhic texts together at some length, and discussed the direction of the Conservative Movement. We had become colleagues. But I remain his grateful student still.
Rabbi Joseph H. Prouser is editor of this journal. He has served on both the Rabbinical Assembly’s Committee on Jewish Law and Standards and the Joint Beit Din of the Conservative Movement.
Often when I meet someone and they hear that I am a rabbi, they ask where my pulpit is located. They assume that a rabbi has to have a pulpit and be a congregational rabbi. Nowadays, rabbis are found in many different venues, not only in the congregational pulpit life. I was a pulpit rabbi, in the traditional sense, serving three different synagogue communities for the first eighteen years of my rabbinate. In 2018, I began my dream job as the executive director of Women’s League for Conservative Judaism (WLCJ). The mission statement of the WLCJ reads as follows: “Women’s League for Conservative Judaism engages, enriches, empowers and unites our Conservative/Masorti members. We promote the sense of community, provide opportunities for learning and advocacy, and cultivate leaders. We are committed to Israel and the Torah Fund Campaign.”
Our members are from approximately three hundred different communities, which means that they have over three hundred rabbinic opinions providing them guidance. As the first rabbi to serve as executive director of WLCJ, I am its religious decisor, or mara deʾatra, on the international level. When I make decisions for the organization, I am very cognizant of the fact that our women are members of Sisterhood affiliates and need to follow the rabbis of their local communities as their local mara deʾatra. However, it is very meaningful and humbling to be the mara deʾatra of WLCJ, helping 27,000 women internationally come to halachic decisions.
Two very powerful spiritual decisions that I was able to facilitate both have to do with virtual tefillah, or prayer. Families today do not live near each other. Furthermore, people often do not live in close proximity to a synagogue. In addition, many communities do not have a daily minyan. This poses a dilemma when someone wants to be with their family when they need to say Kaddish and observe a yahrzheit but do not live near them or a synagogue. Such a situation was brought to my attention in the summer of 2019, long before COVID. Members of WLCJ who were sisters by blood were observing the yahrzheit of their mother, and they wanted to be able to say Kaddish together. But there were a number of dilemmas: they did not live near each other, it was Father’s Day, and their local synagogues were not having services. WLCJ always used Zoom for meetings and learning, so I was asked if we could use it to gather people together to say Kaddish. I reread Avram Israel Reisner’s 2001 teshuvah from the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards (CJLS), “Wired to the Kadosh Barukh Hu: Minyan via Internet,” and studied my teacher and colleague’s responsa.
On June 13, 2019 (an auspicious day), I wrote the following email in response to the question about a virtual minyan for my WLCJ sisters:
I have been studying the teshuvah, and I do not agree with how Rabbi Reisner pasqened (decided) in 2001. But that is why I am the mara deʾatra, and can interpret it how I see fit. In 2001, he said ten people had to be together and then one could join them via cyberspace. I think that today, it is more possible than it was in 2001, to have ten people in separate places, and seeing each other totally fine, and feeling together as a qehillah, community, even if ten are not all together, but two may be in one place, four in another, etc., until ten are all together on the screen. That is more practical today. So times have even changed since 2001. Bottom line, ten can be in various places in my opinion, and together on Zoom, to constitute a minyan. Reisner in 2001 said the ten had to be in one place, and then others can be added virtually.
We arranged a Zoom line and sent an email to inform people about our upcoming virtual service. We hoped that at least ten Jewish adults would join the Zoom meeting, with their cameras on, so two sisters could say Kaddish. Once the information was disseminated about when the virtual minyan would be, it was discovered that many women had to say Kaddish that evening. It was truly a lovely service. As the mara deʾatra of WLCJ, I helped our organization, as an international community, be ahead of our time. We put into practice the concept that a community can be defined in many different ways.
In June 2019, when I was asked if we could have virtual minyan so some WLCJ Sisters could be together to say Kaddish, we could not foresee that this would soon become common practice. While searching my thousands of emails, I found an email I wrote on June 18, 2019, to Elliot Dorff, the sitting chair of the CJLS, while contemplating my decision for WLCJ. I wrote, “I want to talk to you and Avi about updating his teshuvah on virtual minyan. I think things have changed since 2001.” At that time, I had the privilege of being a member of the CJLS, so we did talk about virtual minyan, but at that time no one thought it was necessary to write a new teshuvah.
Fast forward to March 2020 and COVID. We closed our offices and began working virtually on Wednesday, March 11, 2020. I met with some of our WLCJ international leadership, and we knew that our women were going to be isolated and would need community. We did not realize how isolated we would all become and for how long. Many of our women needed to say Kaddish, so I began to think about how it is common in some synagogues to recite an extra Psalm and then an additional Mourner’s Kaddish if someone had a yahrzheit. On Sunday, March 15, 2020, with my guidance as the mara deʾatra of the WLCJ, we launched a Zoom program for our sisters, and whoever else wanted to join, that would allow them to recite a Psalm and say Kaddish. We decided that just saying the Psalm was not enough, so we began to also learn what the Psalm meant. As the days progressed, we added the singing of Mishabeirakh, a prayer for healing. We each shared the names of those for whom we were praying, and for whom we were saying Kaddish, and as the list got longer, we began to pause so that we could quietly say the names to ourselves. We came up with an organized way to have people sign up to participate. We streamed our program on Facebook and have always been open to people who are not members of WLCJ.
As the half-hour, Sunday-through-Friday program continued, we realized we needed a name with more depth and significance. When anyone asked a WLCJ sister if she would be on “Psalms,” she knew the reference. Yet, as our virtual sacred space grew, we needed a name for it that would hold special meaning for our WLCJ sisters. The Torah Fund of Women’s League for Conservative Judaism is the designated philanthropy of WLCJ, which helps support programs and student scholarships at the Jewish Theological Seminary (New York), the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies (Los Angeles), the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies (Jerusalem), Seminario Rabinico Latinoamericano (Buenos Aires), and Zacharias Frankel College (Potsdam, now Abraham Joshua Heschel Seminary). Each year there is a different Torah Fund campaign, and the 2020–21 theme was beyaḥad, “together.” When we debated what our virtual prayer community should be called, we tossed around a number of different names and finally decided on Makom B’Yachad, because during the pandemic it was our place to be together. And it continues to be our sacred space. Eventually we moved from meeting six days a week to five, and we continue to meet three days a week. Our Makom B’Yachad participants come from all time zones and all backgrounds.
Makom B’Yachad, our WLCJ virtual sanctuary, is truly a sacred space to share happy times and sad times. We hold shiva minyanim and Yizkor services, we host special programming for Jewish holidays in addition to International Women’s Day, and we recite Hallel together on Rosh Ḥodesh. We have added prayers for Israel and the hostages, and I wrote one compiling the many individual prayers we say as well. We also sing “Hatikvah.” We have often had guest speakers, especially after October 7. After we concluded our study of the entire book of Psalms, we had a siyyum, complete with people sharing their own original psalms.
We needed teachers in addition to me. Occasionally, one of our WLCJ women would teach about the psalm. Eventually, we hired a part-time educator, Rabbi Margie Cella, to join our WLCJ staff to teach as well. Friday is the day that our members lead a lively discussion about parashat hashavuah, the weekly Torah reading. Since March 15, 2020, we have had a siyyum ceremony for everything we have completed learning during Makom B’Yachad, which includes the book of Psalms, Pirkei Avot (Ethics of our Ancestors), the book of Ruth, Song of Songs, the book of Proverbs, and several tractates of the Mishnah, including Rosh Hashanah, Qiddushin, and Middot. At the time of writing this article, Rabbi Cella is teaching texts related to female personalities in Jewish texts, and I am teaching m. Niddah.
How were some of these texts chosen, you might ask? Prior to COVID, WLCJ was engaged in an eighteen-month study of m. Berakhot and was supposed to have a siyyum at our 2020 international convention. We still had the siyyum, but, like the convention, it became virtual. I realized that once we had completed studying Berakhot, Pirkei Avot, and Rosh Hashanah, I decided that we should learn a tractate from every seder, or order, of the Mishnah. It has been a wonderful accomplishment to study all these sacred texts in our holy Makom B’Yachad community. Until our 2023 international convention, many women had never met each other, and it was truly special to meet our Makom sisters. One member even made pins as gifts to the Makom regulars.
As the executive director of the WLCJ, it is an honor and a privilege to be the mara deʾatra on the international level for 27,000 women and help interpret the teshuvot generated by the CJLS. The virtual minyan I helped establish for our women was the path to helping create a truly sacred space of prayer, learning, and friendship—a Makom B’Yachad, or place for our members to be together.
Rabbi Ellen S. Wolintz-Fields has served as the first rabbi in the position of executive director of Women’s League for Conservative Judaism. Prior to 2018, she was the Vice President for Congregational Engagement at Israel Tour Connection and served for eighteen years as a congregational rabbi and educational director in Toms River, New Jersey, as well as Grayslake and Long Grove, Illinois.
(The article presented here is as revised for The Unfolding Tradition: Philosophies of Jewish Law, Elliot N. Dorff, editor, Aviv Press, New York, 2011, pp. 408-422)
We are told that Rembrandt, the famous Dutch painter, used to hide behind his paintings at the art gallery to listen to people’s criticism. Once, a cobbler looked at one of his paintings and remarked: those shoes are all wrong! No one makes shoes like that! After he left, Rembrandt popped out and fixed the shoes. A week later the same cobbler passed by the same painting and said: that face is all wrong! Upon hearing this, Rembrandt jumped out and said: Look here Mr. Cobbler — you have the right to criticize shoes, but who gives you the right to say anything about faces!
In the following article, I shall take Rembrandt’s advice. Since I teach halakhah and write a great deal about halakhah, I shall give a critique of the attitude of Conservative Judaism towards halakhah. In so doing I shall follow in the footsteps of Bernard Lazare, the nineteenth-century French Jewish writer, who said: “I shall have the courage to point out the ulcers of my people and to cure them”. But I shall also bear in mind the warning of Benjamin Disraeli: “It is much easier to be critical than to be correct.” Lastly, I shall follow the advice of Moshe ibn Ezra, the medieval Hebrew poet: “A critic must be like a grinding stone, which sharpens but does not cut.” My intent is to sharpen, not to cut. I would like to point out certain shortcomings in the Conservative approach to halakhah and to suggest corrections and improvements to our approach.
There is a tendency in our movement to restrict our halakhic discussions to three topics:
1) What is our halakhic philosophy and how does it differ from the Orthodox and Reform approaches?
2) How and to what extent is it possible to change halakhah?
3) How can we improve the halakhic status of women and, more recently, of homosexuals in Judaism?
Indeed, I have spoken about these topics on many occasions and have published articles and responsa dealing with these very topics.2 Nevertheless, I will not be discussing these topics despite their significance and interest, because they are not the major challenge facing us today. On the other hand, the Orthodox and ultra-Orthodox attacks on our legitimacy are not the major challenge facing our movement either. I am not afraid of such a challenge. If we are truly committed to a modern halakhic approach, we can withstand any external challenge.
What then is the major challenge facing us today? I believe that the main problem is internal within the Conservative movement, to wit: Are we a halakhic movement at all? Do our members accept upon themselves the authority of the halakhah? Do our members pray three times a day, keep kosher both within the home and without, and keep Shabbat and the Jewish holidays? Do our members pay taxes and refrain from ona’ah (overcharging) as prescribed by Jewish law? Do they observe the laws connected to leshon hara (slander) and keeping far from falsehood? Do they give tzedakah and visit the sick according to Jewish law?
If the answer to all of these questions was in the affirmative, we could discuss one of the three popular topics that I mentioned above. Since that is clearly not the case,3 let us set those questions aside for a moment and seek a solution to the major problem I have outlined above. Stated simply, that problem is: how can we foster the study of halakhah and its observance within the Conservative movement?
Four Things to Avoid or De-emphasize
First of all, I would like to stress four things which we currently do or emphasize which we should avoid doing or de-emphasize since they do not help us foster Conservative Jews who are committed to halakhah. On the contrary, they frequently lead to the opposite result.
1. We should avoid overemphasizing the Conservative approach to halakhah. Every few years we publish another book or pamphlet on this topic.4 In addition, there are numerous symposia and articles in Conservative periodicals such as Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly and Conservative Judaism magazine. These books and articles are very interesting and very important but they are not enough. They have not succeeded and will not succeed in bringing our members closer to the observance of the mitzvot. In order to observe mitzvot, it is not enough to know why we must observe them. In order to observe mitzvot, we must know what the halakhot are and how to observe them. Books and articles on our philosophy of halakhah do not satisfy this need.
2. We must cease talking constantly about the need to change halakhah. This topic has been the obsession of our movement almost since its inception. Most of our publications and our struggle are devoted to this subject simply because many Orthodox rabbis reject the concept of change and development within the halakhah. But this is not our agenda; it is their agenda! We have a much more basic problem. In order to change halakhah, one must first accept ol mitzvot — “the yoke of the commandments”. In other words, before we can attempt to change the tradition we must first accept the authority of that tradition. Perhaps it is possible to change or to reinterpret or even to do away with certain aspects of the halakhah — but such things must be done from within the system. If the halakhah is not binding upon us, what right have we to change it? Mashal l’mah hadavar domeh — to what can such activity be compared? To a person who changes the rules of driving when he himself does not know how to drive. Does he have the right to make such changes?
The preoccupation of some Conservative rabbis with changing halakhah was epitomized in an article published by Rabbi Harold Schulweis in 1993.5 He eloquently argued that the only way to save halakhah and to make it relevant to unaffiliated Jews is to abrogate immoral laws such as those regarding mamzerut and homosexuality. I must confess that his logic escapes me. I readily agree that we must grapple with halakhot that we consider immoral and perhaps even modify some of them. But to say that abrogating such laws will lead Jews back to observance is beyond my comprehension. After all, we have ample proof from the decision of the Law Committee in 1950 to allow Conservative Jews to drive to the synagogue on Shabbat.6 The majority of the committee abrogated or circumvented or ignored a host of biblical and rabbinic prohibitions in order to “revitalize the Sabbath.” Yet the Sabbath was not revitalized. We simply legitimized something that our congregants did in any case and enabled some Conservative rabbis to drive to synagogue on Shabbat — which is , in any case, a direct violation of the lenient responsum from 1950! You don’t revitalize something by abrogating it. To use a modern analogy, you don’t convince consistent speed violators to obey the speed limit by removing the speed limit. You may adjust the speed limit or educate people to observe the speed limit by formal instruction and by personal example. But if you remove the speed limit, what exactly have you revitalized?!
Therefore, I strongly concur with the rebuttals to that article penned by Profs. Ismar Schorsch and Jack Wertheimer. The former states that our laity “want more Judaism, not less. They want higher standards and clearer boundaries... they seek a rabbinic leadership marked by exemplars of piety, learning and love, not halakhic revolutionaries.” The latter says: “There are many Conservative... Jews who respect a Judaism that insists on standing for religious principles — even when such principles conflict with prevailing social mores. Many Conservative Jews may not agree with or even understand all of those religious principles, let alone observe the bulk of mitzvot, but they want to know that Judaism is a normative religious system with a set of obligations, not merely a pick and choose religion that helps Jews feel good. If we wish to compete for these Jews, we must clarify our understanding of the obligations of Judaism, not just the rights of Jews.”7
Nonetheless, Rabbi Schulweiss’s approach has been evident in recent decisions of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards (CJLS) or Conservative publications. Within a few short years, the CJLS has allowed testimony by women which is a biblical prohibition; has declared the laws of mamzerut “inoperative” which is another biblical prohibition; has taken a liberal approach towards homosexuality which is another biblical prohibition; and a booklet about sex has condoned couples living together for long periods of time before marriage or without marriage.8
The trend of these and other recent decisions is clear: Conservative Judaism must accommodate current American or Western cultural norms. To this entire trend in the CJLS and in our movement I reply: “Lo zo haderekh” — this is not the right path! I say this for four reasons:
a) The Talmud (Avodah Zarah 37a) says that a bet din which makes three major heterim (leniencies) is a Bet Din Sharya, a “permissive bet din,” while Yossi Ben Yoezer Ish Zeredah gives testimony about three heterim in Mishnah Eduyot 8:4 and the Mishnah labels him Yosef Sharya, “Joseph the Lenient.” These are not compliments. A Law Committee which issues major heterim every year or two is a Bet Din Sharya. How many major issurim (leniencies) have been issued by the CJLS during the last ten years? A serious legal system and a serious religious movement must rule l’kula and l’humra, leniently and stringently. A legal system which only rules l’kula is not a legal system at all. It is simply a fig leaf to accommodate Judaism to the norms of general society.
b) We are all aware of the many passages which talk about God’s midat hadin and midat harahamim, His Attribute of Justice and Attribute of Mercy, but our Sages also discussed Justice and Mercy in connection with halakhah:
Rabbi Akiva says: ein merahamin badin — one does not apply mercy in court cases (Mishnah Ketubot 9:2-3).
Rabbi Elazar intended to allow maintenance [of daughters] out of the movable property [of their deceased father].
Rabbi Shimon ben Elyakim said before him: “Rabbi, I know you are not using the attribute of Justice, but the attribute of Mercy, but the students might observe this ruling and fix it as a law for future generations!” (Ketubot 50b).
A Law Committee must exercise both justice and mercy, not just mercy.
c) Once the CJLS has made such major changes in Jewish law, then within one generation, it will probably recognize patrilineal descent and allow intermarriage. If our main goal is to justify current values of American society and to make every person feel “OK,” then these steps are inevitable. And if so, the Conservative and Reform movements will eventually merge.
d) Finally, radical leniencies do not make Conservative Jews more halakhic as explained above.
3. We must stop the process of democratization which has penetrated most of our congregations. The halakhic system is indeed democratic but only within a forum of rabbis who have the proficiency to make halakhic decisions. We have reached the point where in many of our congregations halakhah is decided by congregational vote. This practice stands in contradiction to the entire history of halakhah from the Tannaim — the rabbis of the Mishnah — until our day. Laypeople do not decide halakhah, rabbis do; amei ha’aretz, those ignorant of Jewish law, do not decide halakhah but rather the Sages do. When a halakhic problem arises, one must turn to an ordained rabbi for the solution.
Indeed, after I wrote these words I discovered that “there is nothing new under the sun”. The same point was made over ninety years ago by Prof. Louis Ginzberg upon his assumption of the Chairmanship of the Committee on the Interpretation of Jewish Law, the first law committee of the Conservative movement which functioned from 1917-1927. He said:
It is certainly one of the most grievous misfortunes of modern Judaism, that the cobbler will not stick to his last and will imagine himself able to judge all things in heaven and earth. We Jews glory in the fact that we have no privileged class or caste which is the sole possessor of truth... A promise is made in Scripture to Israel that “all children shall be taught of the law so that great shall be the peace” [Isaiah 54:13]. As long, however, as this promise is not fulfilled, we must be guided in questions of law and doctrine by those who know. Judaism never taught that “ignorance is bliss” or that “the majority cannot be wrong.” The conception that in religious matters anyone, however ignorant, can judge for himself, is the direct denial of the old Jewish maxim, “The ignorant cannot be pious” [Avot 2:5]... A majority vote of a Board of Directors of a synagogue, is after all, a negligible quantity when it is in opposition to the vote of historical Judaism with its myriads of Saints and thousands of Sages. We have a vast inheritance but no inventory of our treasures transmitted to us by the past. The sorting, distributing, selecting, harmonizing and completing, can only be done by experienced hands.9
4. In our movement, there is a widespread perception that the halakhah and the mitzvot are primarily a public matter. In public, within the walls of the synagogue or in the four ells of Camp Ramah or USY, a Jew must observe the mitzvot, but at home — to use the biblical phrase — “every person does as he pleases” (Judges 17:6, 21:25). We have reached a situation which brings to mind the famous motto penned by the Hebrew poet Y.L. Gordon: “Heye adam b’tzeitekha vi’yi’hudi b’oholekhah” — “Be a human being in your going out, and a Jew in your home.”10 Many of our members aspire to be Jews in the synagogue and human beings in their going out! But that is not the way Judaism works! Judaism is a way of life, as we read in the Shema every day: “When you sit in your house, when you walk on the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up” (Deut. 6:7).
An ultra-Orthodox Jew once said: “The life of a modern-Orthodox Jew is punctuated by Torah and mitzvot; the life of an ultra-Orthodox Jew is permeated by Torah and mitzvot.” One can certainly argue with this assertion, but I like the imagery. We must set ourselves a goal of allowing the halakhah to permeate every area of our lives. There is hardly any topic which our Sages did not discuss in the Talmud 11 or in our vast halakhic literature.12 The halakhah can guide our steps at home and in the office, at the supermarket and in the stock market, in the hospital and in the lab — if we give it a chance to influence our lives.
To recap, there are four things we should avoid doing if we want to foster the study of the halakhah and its observance within the Conservative movement: we should avoid the overemphasis on our halakhic philosophy; we should avoid the overemphasis on the need to change halakhah; we should stop deciding halakhic issues by congregational vote; and we should stop viewing the halakhah as something to be observed in public rather than as a way of life.
Three Ways to Foster the Observance of Halakhah
Now let us pass from criticism to constructive suggestions. What practical steps can we take to help foster the study of halakhah and its observance within the Conservative movement? I believe that we must concentrate our efforts in three areas:
1. We must study and teach practical halakhah in every branch of the Conservative movement: in congregations, at Camp Ramah, in Solomon Schechter Day Schools, in Hebrew schools, in USY, in Women’s League, and in the Men’s Clubs. And what texts should we study? Needless to say, Rabbi Isaac Klein’s Guide to Jewish Religious Practice is an excellent place to start. Prof. Ismar Schorsch of the Jewish Theological Seminary has called the Guide “one of the most important books ever published by the Seminary”. He continues:
One need not agree with every judgment or detail to appreciate its extraordinary merits — its combination of theology and halakhah, its theological balance, its attention to the work of the Law Committee, not to speak of its sweep, learning, and clarity. It is an educational tool of immense potential for igniting the kind of halakhic discourse which should come to pervade the movement, if we have but the courage and imagination to use it.13
But our study of practical halakhah should not end with the Guide. We should also learn Rambam, Tur, Shulkhan Aruch, Hayyei Adam, Aruch Hashulkhan, Mekor Hayyim and other medieval and modern codes of Jewish law. In addition, we should study the Conservative responsa discussed below.
There is a tendency in our movement to prefer the study of Jewish history, philosophy, midrash, and Talmud over the study of halakhah. There is no question that “Torah lishmah,” “Torah study for its own sake,” is extremely important, as we have learned in the tractate of Ta’anit (7a): “Whoever studies Torah for its own sake, his Torah becomes to him an elixer of life.” However, we must recall the famous discussion in the tractate of Kiddushin (40b):
Rabbi Tarfon and the Sages were reclining in the loft of the house of Natza in Lod. The following question was put to them: which is greater — study or action? Rabbi Tarfon replied: action is greater. Rabbi Akiva replied: study is greater. They all concluded and stated: study is greater because study leads to action.14
A similar point was made by Rabbi Yishmael son of Rabbi Yohanan ben Beroka in Pirkei Avot 4:5:
He who learns in order to teach will be given the opportunity to learn and to teach; but he who learns in order to do will be given the opportunity to learn and to teach, to observe and to do.15
Lastly, the Tosefta (Sanhedrin 7:7, Zuckermandel edition, p. 426) tells us that if the Great Sanhedrin in the Temple was presented with a practical problem and a theoretical problem — they first attended to the practical problem. And if presented with a problem of halakhah and a problem of midrash — they first attended to the halakhah.
So we see that although Torah study is wonderful, it must not be pursued in a vacuum; it must influence our actions and permeate our lives. Therefore, in order to foster Conservative Jews who observe the mitzvot, we must learn practical halakhah for the sake of action.
2. We must increase our output of responsa literature. Our laymen must turn to their local rabbis with their halakhic questions, and the rabbis must turn to the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards and other Conservative poskim (halakhic authorities) with their halakhic questions. On the other hand, our rabbis must learn how to write responsa and how to publish them. Responsa are the best sign of vibrant halakhic life. They show that the questioner cares enough about halakhah to turn to a rabbi to ascertain what the halakhah requires of him, and that the rabbi responding cares enough about the halakhah to have spent the many hours required to research and write a formal teshuvah. With that thought in mind, let us note the following statistics:
Beginning in 1959, the late Rabbi Moshe Feinstein of New York published eight volumes of responsa entitled Igrot Moshe. Between 1945 and 1998 the late Rabbi Eliezer Waldenberg of Jerusalem published 22 volumes of responsa entitled Tzitz Eliezer. Between 1954 and the present, Rabbi Ovadiah Yosef of Jerusalem has published 16 volumes of responsa entitled Yabia Omer and Yehaveh Da’at. Between 1976 and 1998 the late Rabbi Hayyim David Halevi of Tel Aviv published 12 volumes of responsa entitled Aseh Lekha Rav and Mayyim Hayyim. In other words, these four poskim published 58 volumes of responsa and they are only the most notable of the hundreds of volumes of responsa published by Orthodox rabbis in the past 65 years.16
And what about the Reform movement which is considered non-halachic? Between 1954 and 2010, the Reform movement has published 13 volumes of responsa by Rabbi Solomon Freehof, Rabbi Walter Jacobs, and the Responsa Committee of the Central Conference of American Rabbis.17
And what is the situation in the Conservative movement which prides itself on being halachic? It is improving but still not satisfactory. Between 1917 when Prof. Louis Ginzberg founded the Committtee for the Interpretation of Jewish Law until 1972 just two booklets of responsa were published by Conservative rabbis! Since 1972, the situation has improved greatly: 31 volumes of Conservative teshuvot have been published — six by the CJLS, six by the Va’ad Halakhah in Israel, and the rest by individual rabbis such as Isaac Klein, David Novak, David Golinkin, Wayne Allen, Monique Susskind Goldberg, Diana Villa and others. Nevertheless, all published volumes of Conservative reponsa can still be listed in one footnote.18
This is indeed a revolution in the history of the Conservative movement, but it is a revolution which must be expanded and strengthened if the Conservative movement is to be a vibrant halakhic movement.
3. The four Conservative/Masorti Rabbinical Seminaries — JTS, Ziegler, the Seminario and the Schechter Rabbinical Seminary — must give our rabbinical students a thorough grounding in practical halakhah, a thorough grounding in the medieval and modern responsa literature, and teach our rabbis how to write modern, Conservative responsa. The rabbis and professors at our seminaries must emulate the definition of the ideal rabbi as defined by Rabbi Moshe Isserles in his glosses to the Shulhan Arukh from the 16th century:
These days the real rabbi or teacher is not the person who teaches his students pilpul or hairsplitting as is customary in our day; rather he is the person who teaches him pesak halakhah [halakhic decision-making] and the method of arriving at practical halakhah in a truthful and intellectually honest fashion.19
For many years, it was assumed that the Talmud professors at JTS were only interested in Torah Lishmah and Wissenschaft, not in pesak halakhah. We now know that this is not true. Beginning in 1917, there were poskim in every generation of Seminary professors who wrote responsa even though they did not publish most of their responsa.20 This is a tragedy because their published responsa would undoubtedly have had a lasting impact on Conservative halakhah. In addition, practical halakhah and responsa were not emphasized in the rabbinical school curriculum at JTS for many decades.21
There is, of course, a simple solution to this problem: our rabbinical seminaries must put a heavy emphasis on practical halakhah and responsa in their curricula. This was suggested as long ago as 1956 by Rabbi Arthur Neulander, Chairman of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards at that time. He said:
We feel confident that we should be able to enlist the faculty of our Seminary in this enterprise... the Seminary faculty should encourage and urge a greater interest in the study of Jewish law. Unless the Seminary will be able to produce masters of Jewish law, our movement will not be able to make its contribution to the development of Jewish law in the spirit which we should like to promote.22
An additional practical suggestion was made by Rabbi Kassel Abelson in 1983. He said:
How can the movement encourage rabbis to study the Halakhah and to write Responsa? The Seminary is the place to begin. The founder of the Conservative movement, Zechariah Frankel, was among the first to publish a paper describing the Responsa literature as a rich source for the study of Jewish history.23 Surely our Conservative Responsa literature is no less a valuable source for understanding the history of the American Jewish community, and its contemporary trends. Beyond history and sociology, there should be a systematic training in the “Responsa of Modern Judaism”, Conservative, Orthodox, and Reform, with examinations taking the form of writing a Responsum. One result will be graduates experienced in reading contemporary Halakhic literature. A second will be providing a rich source of future members for the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards.24
As far as I know, no one has undertaken a survey of the way that practical halakhah and the responsa literature have been taught at our four rabbinical seminaries throughout the years of their existence. I do know that at the Schechter Rabbinical Seminary in Jerusalem every rabbinical student for many years has taken at least four courses in Jewish law: Introduction to Poskim, a survey of Shulhan Arukh Orah Hayyim and Yoreh Deah, one course in medieval or modern responsa and one workshop in writing responsa. This type of curriculum is the only way in which our movement will produce Conservative halachic authorities who cannot only learn a page of Talmud, but also know how to teach practical halakhah and to write a modern Conservative responsum.
In conclusion, there are three things we should do if we want to foster the study of the halakhah and its observance within the Conservative movement: we should teach practical halakhah in every branch of the movement; we should encourage our laypeople to ask halakhic questions and our rabbis to write responsa and publish them; and our rabbinical seminaries should emphasize practical halakhah and responsa in their curricula and thereby prepare our rabbis to teach practical halakhah and to write responsa.
This then is the halakhic agenda I would like to propose for the Conservative Movement. I hope it will lead to discussion and debate and — most of all — to action.
Notes
1. This article is based on a lecture I delivered in Hebrew at the Third Annual Convention of the Masorti Movement on Rosh Chodesh Kislev 5749 at Kfar Hamakabia in Ramat Gan. A revised version of that lecture was subsequently published in Hebrew in Eit La’asot 2 (Summer 1989), pp. 33-39. An English version was published in Conservative Judaism 46/3 (Spring 1994), pp. 29-39. It has been revised and updated for this volume in 2011 at the request of Rabbi Prof. Elliot Dorff. For an oblique reaction to my article in Conservative Judaism, see Joshua Gutoff, Conservative Judaism 47/3 (Spring 1995), pp. 28-36.
2. Regarding the first two questions, see, for example, my books, Halakhah for Our Time: A Conservative Approach to Jewish Law, New York, 1991 (which has also appeared in Hebrew, Spanish, French and Russian) and Responsa in a Moment, Jerusalem, 2000, pp. 11-21 and my introductions to the Responsa of the Vaad Halakhah of the Rabbinical Assembly of Israel (Hebrew), volumes 3-6. Regarding women in Jewish law, see my book The Status of Women in Jewish Law: Responsa (Hebrew), Jerusalem, 2001, which is now being translated into English.
3. See Charles Liebman, Conservative Judaism 56 (2004), Special Supplement, p. 49; the results of the National Jewish Population Survey vis-à-vis Conservative Judaism at www.ujc.org/njps; and the summary of that survey by Rabbi Joel Meyers in the Rabbinical Assembly Newsletter 64/4 (February 2004), pp. 1-2, 7.
4. I am referring to books such as: Mordechai Waxman, Tradition and Change, New York, 1958; Boaz Cohen, Law and Tradition in Judaism, New York, 1959; Elliot Dorff, Conservative Judaism: Our Ancestors to Our Descendants, New York, 1977; Seymour Siegel and Elliot Gertel, Conservative Judaism and Jewish Law, New York, 1977; Robert Gordis, Understanding Conservative Judaism, New York, 1978; Louis Jacobs, A Tree of Life: Diversity, Flexibility and Creativity in Jewish Law, Oxford, 1984 (second edition, Portland, Oregon, 2000); Joel Roth, The Halakhic Process: A Systemic Analysis, New York, 1986; Emet Ve-emunah: Statement of Principles of Conservative Judaism, New York, 1988; Elliot Dorff, Mitzvah Means Commandment, New York, 1989; Golinkin, Halakhah for Our Time (above, note 2); Elliot Dorff, The Unfolding Tradition: Jewish Law After Sinai, New York, 2005; idem, For the Love God and People: A Philosophy of Jewish Law, Philadelphia, 2007.
There is nothing inherently wrong with these books. But they must be balanced by books of practical halakhah and responsa as I shall explain below. For a similar preference for Conservative responsa over Conservative halakhic philosophy, see Rabbis Aaron Blumenthal and Benjamin Kreitman in Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly 34 (1970), pp. 207-208.
5. Conservative Judaism 45/4 (Summer 1993), pp. 5-13.
6. See Tradition and Change (above, note 4), pp. 351-400; David Golinkin, editor, Proceedings of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards of the Conservative Movement 1927-1970, Jerusalem, 1997, pp. 1109-1190; my responsum in Responsa of the Va’ad Halakhah of the Rabbinical Assembly of Israel 4 (5750-5752), Jerusalem, 5752, pp. 17-30 (Hebrew) which is also available at www.reponsafortoday.com and the symposium in Conservative Judaism 56/3 (Spring 2004), pp. 21-50.
7. Above, note 5, p. 19 and Conservative Judaism 46/2 (Winter 1994), p. 24.
8. Rabbi Susan Grossman, “Edut Nashim K’edut Anashim,” adopted by the CJLS in 2001 and available on the RA website; Rabbi Elie Spitz, “Mamzerut” in: Kassel Abelson and David Fine, eds. Responsa 1991-2000, New York, 2002, pp. 558-586; Rabbis Elliot Dorff, Daniel Nevins and Avrum Reisner, “Homosexuality, Human Dignity and Halakhah,” adopted by the CJLS in 2007 and available on the RA website; Rabbi Elliot Dorff, This is My Beloved, This is My Friend, [New York], 1996, pp. 30-36 = idem, Love Your Neighbor and Yourself, Philadelphia, 2003, pp. 111-119. My point here is not to take issue with a specific ruling but to point out a trend in Conservative halakhah.
9. Louis Ginzberg, “Address of the Acting President,” The United Synagogue of America, Sixth Annual Report, New York, 1919, p. 24 = David Golinkin, editor, The Responsa of Professor Louis Ginzberg, New York and Jerusalem, 1996, p. 44. Also see the remarks of Boaz Cohen in the Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly 11 (1947), pp. 60-61 = Golinkin, Proceedings (above, note 6), pp. 193-194. For a typical example of the democratization of the halakhic process within our movement, see Melvin Dow, Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly 40 (1978), pp. 20-23 along with the critique of David Resnick in Conservative Judaism 42/2 (Winter 1989-90), pp. 50-51.
10. In his poem “Hakitza Ami,” Kitvei Yehudah Leib Gordon: Shirah, Tel Aviv, 5713, p. 17.
11. Sometimes what seems like a totally theoretical question turns out to be based on an actual case. See, for example, the discussion in Menahot 37a regarding tefillin and pidyon haben for a person who has two heads. Five scholars have shown that these questions were not mere klutz kashes. There are many documented cases both ancient and modern of people with two and even three heads. See S.Y. Rapoport, Kerem Hemed 6 (1841), pp. 131-132; Saul Lieberman, “Tana Heikha Kaey,” Kovetz Madaee Lezekher Moshe Shor, New York, 5705, pp. 184-185 = idem, Mehkarim B’torat Eretz Yisrael, Jerusalem, 1991, pp. 111-112; Y.L. Zlotnick, “Anashim Ba’alei Shenei Rashim,” Sinai 19 (5706), pp. 17-25; Daniel Sperber, “Varia Midrashica,” REJ 129 (1970), pp. 87-89; Aharon Ben Zion Shurin, “Vegn a Mentsch mit Zvei Kep,” Forvertz, March 4, 1980, p. 7.
12. For some good examples, see my article “Richard Cohen and the Talmud”, The Washington Post, February 17, 1990, p. A29. For good anthologies of the responsa literature, see Solomon Freehof, The Responsa Literature, Philadelphia, 1955 and idem, A Treasury of Responsa, Philadelphia, 1963.
13. Ismar Schorsch, “Centenary Thoughts: Conservatism Revisited,” Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly 48 (1986), p. 84. For a balanced review of Rabbi Klein’s Guide, see Martin Lokshin, Tradition 18/2 (Summer 1980), pp. 227-230.
14. Cf. Sifrei Devarim, Ekev, Piska 41, Finkelstein edition, p. 85 and the parallels cited there.
15. The passages from Kiddushin and Avot were stressed by Rabbi Yair Hayyim Bachrach in the seventeenth century (Responsa Havot Yair, No. 124) in his outline of the ideal curriculum, which lays a heavy stress on practical halakhah such as Shulhan Arukh Orah Hayyim and Yoreh Deah.
16. Needless to say, quantity does not guarantee quality but it does indicate interest and commitment. For a complete bibliography of the responsa literature from the invention of printing until 2000, see Shmuel Glick, Kuntress Hateshuvot Hehadash, Vols. 1-4, Jerusalem and Ramat Gan, 2006-2010.
17. Eight volumes by Rabbi Solomon Freehof; two volumes by Rabbi Walter Jacob; two volumes by The Responsa Committee; one volume by Rabbi Moshe Zemer (in both Hebrew and English). For evaluations of Reform responsa, see Walter Jacob, editor, Liberal Judaism and Halakhah, Pittsburgh, 1988 and Alan Yuter in Tradition 24/3 (Spring 1989), pp. 87-98.
18. For indices of Conservative responsa, see David Golinkin, An Index of Conservative Responsa and Practical Halakhic Studies 1917-1990, New York, 1992; Summary Index: Committee on Jewish Law and Standards, New York, 1994 and ff.
The volumes of responsa published by Conservative law committees are: Proceedings of the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards, 1927-2000, various editors and titles, 6 volumes, Jerusalem and New York, 1988-2000; Responsa of the Va’ad Halakhah of the Rabbinical Assembly of Israel, Volumes 1-6, 5746-5798 (Hebrew); Tomeikh Kehalakhah: Responsa of the Panel of Halakhic Enquiry, Volume 1, The Union for Traditional Conservative Judaism, Mt. Vernon, New York, 1986 (after which the Union left the Conservative movement).
The volumes of responsa by individual rabbis are (in chronological order): Phillip Sigal, New Dimensions in Judaism, Jericho, New York, 1972; Isaac Klein, Responsa and Halakhic Studies, New York, 1975 (second expanded edition, Jerusalem, 2005); David Novak, Law and Theology in Judaism, 2 volumes, New York, 1974-1976; idem, Halakhah in a Theological Dimension, Chico, California, 1985; David Blumenthal, editor, And Bring Them Closer to Torah: the Life and Work of Rabbi Aaron Blumenthal, Hoboken, New Jersey, 1986; Simon Greenberg, editor, The Ordination of Women as Rabbis, New York, 1988; Byron Sherwin, In Partnership with God: Contemporary Jewish Law and Ethics, Syracuse, New York, 1990; David Lincoln, Mizmor Le-david: Responsa, Studies and Texts, New York, 1991; David Golinkin, editor, The Responsa of Profesor Louis Ginzberg, New York and Jerusalem, 1996; Louis Jacobs, Ask the Rabbi: Questions and Answers on Judaism, Portland, Oregon, 1999; Byron Sherwin, In Partnership With God: Contemporary Jewish Law and Ethics, Syracuse, 2000; Aaron Mackler, editor, Life and Death Responsibilities in Jewish Biomedical Ethics, New York, 2000; David Golinkin, Responsa in a Moment, Jerusalem, 2000; idem, The Status of Women in Jewish Law: Responsa, Jerusalem, 2001 (Hebrew); Wayne Allen, Perspectives on Jewish Law and Contemporary Issues, Jerusalem, 2009; Monique Susskind Goldberg and Diana Villa, Ask the Rabbi: Women Rabbis Respond to Modern Halakhic Questions, Jerusalem, 2010.
Responsa online include the responsa of the CJLS on the RA website; all the responsa of the Va’ad Halakhah at www.responsafortoday.com; David Golinkin, “Responsa in a Moment” at www.schechter.edu; Monique Suskind Goldberg and Diana Villa, “Ask the Rabbi” at www.schechter.edu.
19. Yoreh Deah 242:30. My translation is based on the explanation of Boaz Cohen, “On Rendering Legal Decisions”, Conservative Judaism 3/3 (May 1947), pp. 1-2 = Law and Tradition in Judaism, New York, 1959, p. 121.
20. For the old assumption, see the original version of this article from 1994 (above, note 1), pp. 37-38. For the correct facts, see David Golinkin in The Responsa of Profesor Louis Ginzberg, New York and Jerusalem, 1996, pp. 22-24 and idem, “The Influence of Seminary Professors on Halakha in the Conservative Movement: 1902-1968” in Jack Wertheimer, editor, Tradition Renewed: A History of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, New York, 1997, pp. 443-482.
21. I lamented this fact when I completed Rabbinical School at JTS in 1980 — see David Golinkin, “The Rabbinical School and the Seminary: Some Suggestions for Improvement”, Ikka D’amrei: A Student Journal of the Jewish Theological Seminary of America II/2 (April 1980), pp. 49-50.
22. Arthur Neulander, “Committee on Jewish Law and Standards”, Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly 20 (1956), p. 31.
23. He is referring to Zechariah Frankel‘s pioneering study „Etwurf einer Geschichte der Literatur der nachtalmudischen Responsen“, Jahresbericht des Judisch-Theologischen Seminars, Breslau, 1865, pp. 1-96.
24. Kassel Abelson, “The Rabbinical Assembly and the Development of Halakhah”, Proceedings of the Rabbinical Assembly 45 (1983), p. 81.
Rabbi Prof. David Golinkin is President Emeritus and Professor of Jewish Law at the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem where he also directs the The Institute of Applied Halakhah and the Center for Women in Jewish Law. He chaired the Vaad Halakhah of the Rabbinical Assembly of Israel for twenty years. His latest books are Aseh Lekha Rav: She’elot U’teshuvot, Vol. 2, Jerusalem, 2024, and Responsa in a Moment, Vol. VI, Jerusalem, 2024.