Jewish Life Nov-Dec 1964 by Jewish Action

T H E T O R A H C O M M U N IT Y -F O R M A T F O R TH E CREATIVE J E W IS H LIFE IN A G H A N G IN G W O R L D --A SY M PO SIU M • E P IL O G U E FR O M A S S A F ST R E E T • THE F IR E S O P C H A SIB ISM • H O W IR R E L IG IO U S A R E T H E ISR A E L IS TH E ITALIAN J E W IS H COM M UNITY O P T O D A Y A N D I ITS R IC H V A S T KISLEV-TEVETH 5725 NOYEMBER-DECEMBER 1964

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Vol. XXXII, No. 2/November-December 1964/Kislev-Teveth 5725

rra EDITORIALS BEYOND THE NEW PLATEAU...............................

S aul B ernstein , Editor

ARTICLES

R euben E. G ross R abbi S. J. S harfman L ibby K laperman P aul H . B aris

HOW IRRELIGIOUS ARE THE ISRAELI'S?/Zvi Z in g e r..

EPILOGUE FROM ASSAF STREET/Sylvia H o ro w itz.. 36

Editorial Associates

THE ITALIAN JEWISH COMMUNITY AND ITS RICH PAST/Jacob B e lle r .............. ............................ 41

G abrielle R iback

Editorial Assistant

THE FIRES OF CHASIDISM/Harry Rabinowicz............ 48

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THE TORAH COMMUNITY— FORMAT FOR THE CREATIVE JEWISH LIFE IN A CHANGING WORLD— A Symposium WHO IS THE ORTHODOX JEW?/Ralph P e lc o v itz... 16

Published by U nion of O rthodox Jewish C ongregations of A merica M oses I. FEuerstein

THE TORAH COMMUNITY AS A DEVELOPING FORCE'TODAY/Pinchas T e it z ................................. /T H E JEWISH-CHRISTIAN DIALOGUE: ANOTHER LOOK/Norman Lamm ..............................

President B e n ja m in K o e n ig s b e r g , Nathan K. Gross, Harold M. Jacobs, Joseph Karasick, Harold H. Boxer, Vice Pres idents; J o e l S c h n e ie r s o n , Treasurer; Herzl Rosenson, Secretary; David Politi, Fi nancial Secretary. Dr. Samson R. Weiss Executive Vice President

20 23

COMMENT/Immanuel Jacobovits................................. 33

BOOK REVIEWS CLASSIC JOURNAL OF AN EPIC JOURNEY/ Philip Z im m erm a n ......................................................... 59 CONCEPTS IN CAPSULE/Arnold H e is le r ................... 63

Saul Bernstein, Administrator Second Class Postage paid at New York, N. Y,

November-December, 1964

Born in Poland, ZVI ZINGER studied in yeshivoth in Belgium and England and at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. While in England he served as principal of the Bachad Institute of Jewish Studies and as a leader in the Religious Zionist Youth5movement there. Since moving to Israel in 1950, Mr. Zinger has held posts as Director in the Youth Aliy ah Institute, the Religious Zionist Kibutz movement, and in the Jewish Agency, in whose Informa tion Department he now serves. Mr. Zinger is well known in Israel for his radio lectures on Bible and other Jewish themes, and he is presently engaged in research for a comprehensive work on Judaism in the modern world. JACOB BELLER, the popular journalist who has taken readers on many delightful arm-chair tours through the Jewish communities of Latin American lands, has moved along the Mediterranean coast from Spain (July/August ’64) to provide for us, in this issue, an in triguing description of the modern Ebreos of Italy. J e w is h L i f e

among our contributors

Both scientist and writer, PHILIP ZIMMERMAN, is a musmach of the Rabbi Isaac Elchanon Theological Semi nary and holds M.A. degrees in Chemistry and in Educa tion from Yeshiva University. He is the Chief Chemist for a pharmaceuticals firm, as well as the author of many published articles and of an abridgement of George Eliot’s “Daniel Deronda.” RABBI ARNOLD HEISLER received his Semichah and B.A. from Yeshiva University and is at present a candidate for an M.A. in History at the Bernard Revel Graduate School. Rabbi Heisler, who is Regional Vice President of the Rabbinic Alumni Association and Treasurer of the Rabbinical Council of New Jersey, makes his home in Jersey City where he is Rabbi of Congregation Mount Sinai. A freelance writer, SYLVIA L. HOROWITZ recently re turned to the United States after living abroad for eighteen years, five of which were spent in Israel where her husband was a Director of Malben—J.D.C., an agency which serves the needs of handicapped immigrants. Mrs. Horowitz draws from her experiences in Israel a compelling portrayal of the reactions to the Eichmann trial of several seemingly well-adjusted Concentration Camp survivors. The author of the “Slave Who Saved the City,” ‘‘Jewish Literary Treasures of England and America,” and many other works, RABBI HARRY RABINOWICZ contributes to these pages an account of the colorful figures who made Chasidic history. Dr. Rabinowicz, whose articles have ap peared in previous issues of J e w is h L i f e , is the spiritual leader of the Dollis Hill Synagogue in London.

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Beyond the “New P lateau9 ITH its bold vision of the Torah Community, the repent 66th Anniversary National Biennial Convention of the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations of America brought the renascence of traditional Jewry to a new crest. In its un precedented scale and scope, in the range and caliber of the program, and in the character of its conception and organiza tion, the convention bore impressive testimony to the Orthodox Union’s leadership role. Orthodoxy, this assemblage showed, has developed the ability to bring the world of today into the per spective of Torah thought and to make a positive impact on contemporary society. The convention was not bounded, however, by the premise of contemporary relevance. Underlying the wide gamut of issues which came before the delegates was the great question of ultimate aim and direction. In effect, there was posed the for mulation: We of orthodox Jewry have emerged as a powerful froce; we have built strong new foundations for Torah living; our inner cohesion is ripening; our public status has been revolu tionized; we have reached a “new plateau”—one which, but short years ago, might have seemed beyond the scope of dreams; Settle shall we now settle on this plateau, accommodating goals to or Strike present circumstances, or shall we rather strike out beyond, Forward? carving our own path, towards the full goal— a truly Jewish people? By the unprecedented outpouring of commitment which their presence marked, no less than by their expressed will, the Con vention participants, 2,000 strong, proclaimed fheir response. Representing, as they did, congregations and communities in all parts of the United States and Canada, the delegates who came together in Washington at the five-day assemblage mirrored the full spectrum of Orthodoxy’s diverseness. They reflected all Unity in the varying phases of ideological development and contrasting Diversity outlook which have emerged on the traditional Jewish scene. With focal issues before them and with the intensity of their involvement, it was to be expected that differing viewpoints would give rise to sharp debate. The convention, for all its aura and glow, was no tea-party. Yet this very clashing of minds on the “how” of Orthodoxy’s course demonstrated the more vividly the overriding sense of common identity, the awareness of integral relationship to a totality which is no longer an aggrega tion but a vibrant Whole. This sense of common presence, per-

November-December, 1964

haps the most pregnant factor in orthodox Jewish life today, gave the convention its telling force. N GIVING form and direction to Orthodoxy as an integrated force, as revealed" in fresh light at this great convocation, the decades-long endeavors of the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations of America find high vindication. A key facet of this work has been its decisive contribution to the rise of traditional Jewry’s self-awareness and to the resultant ability of the Torah Jew to define himself and his role in the modern world. Seeking to ascertain his course in pursuance of this definition, the Torah Jew has found himself in an anomalous situation. Applied Forces wedded to concepts of Jewish life irreconcilable with Definition his own have dominated the Jewish scene, particularly on this continent. Out of philosophies false to Jewish essentials have been distilled standards and policies which have governed the Jewish community and which have penetrated, with poisonous effect, its inner parts. The awakening Torah Jew, viewing the vista of entrenched un-Jewishness, has pondered seeming al ternatives: to resign himself to continued subordination, accept ing a tolerated existence on terms dictated by others; or perhaps to develop an entirely self-contained collective existence, thor oughly insulated from the surrounding community. But maturing experience has shown that the one alternative is self-defeating and the other futile. To yield to conditions born of spurious values entails eventual surrender of the life born of true~values. On the other hand, with all of Jewish life exposed to the same winds, no walls can be high enough or thick enough to separate Self-De the destiny of one Jew from another. There then arose yet an termination other approach: for the Torah Jew to so mobilze his resources and marshall his ranks as will enable him to govern his own course within the collective Jewish world. It is this last-cited view which fyas become ascendant in recent years, spurring the creative powers which have given birth to great achievement. And it was this view which formed the underlying premise of the UOJCA convention deliberations. As the convention made evident, however, the thinking of Torah Jewry has not halted at this point. There has emerged a further realization—that fundamentally irreconcilable programs of Jewish being can not lastingly co-exist within the one Jewish people. Ultimately, one or the other must give way and disap One People, pear. It follows, therefore, that if all of Jewish life, every One Com where, is not to be stripped of Torah, Jewry as a whole— and mitment not just a segment of Jewry, and not just a force within the Jewish collectivity—must be re-constituted as the Torah Com monweal. Thus in the most practical terms, as well as by

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virtue of primary Jewish tenets, it becomes mandatory that the program of orthodox Jewry he addressed, deliberately and in full scale, to the impregnation of all vessels of Jewish life with Torah commitment. Placed in this maximum frame of reference, the approach, policies, and undertakings of orthodox Jewry must obviously be re-scaled and re-calculated. Just as Orthodoxy underwent a revolution of self-appraisal during the generation past, so it must now undergo a revolution of vista and strategic direction now. The Orthodox Union’s National Biennial Convention made clear to all that this new revolution is in the making and that in it are being forged tools for the rebuilding of Jewish life as the Torah Commonweal of all Israel.

• W h e n e v e r th e Torah is observed in th e w orld, and when men e n g a g e in its study, th e H o ly O n e , Blessed be H e , rejoices, so to speak, in H is handiw ork, and rejoices over all th e worlds, and th e heaven and e a rth a re firm ly established. Even m ore so, th e H o ly O n e calls to g e th e r th e c elestial hosts and says to th e m : Behold my holy p e o p le on e a rth ! Through them my Law is crow ned in th e ir m idst. Behold th e work o f my hands o f whom ye said: W h a t is m an th a t shouldst be m indfu l o f him . A n d when th e y see th e joy o f th e ir M a s te r in H is p e o p le , th e y open th e ir song: W h o is like unto Thy p e o p le Israel, one nation on ea rth ? W h e n , how ever, Israel neglects th e Torah, th e n , so to speak, H is pow er is w eaken ed . (Z o h a r, Sh’m oth 155b) • W h o e v e r endeavors to keep th e com m andm ents in this w orld w ill have a lam p p re p a re d fo r him in th e o th e r w orld th ro u g h every c o m m a n d m e n t th a t he fulfills, and he who studies th e Torah w ill m e rit th e heavenly lig h t fro m which th e lam p is lit. For a lam p u n lit has no value, and a lig h t w ith o u t a lam p c a n n o t shine, so th e one has need o f th e o th e r. The righteous a c t is necessary to p re p a re th e lam p , and study o f th e Torah is necessary to lig h t th e la m p . Blessed is he who takes it in hand both w ith lam p and lig h t. (Ib id . 166a) — Translated by R abbi D avid S. S hapiro

November-December, 1964

How Irreligious Are the Israelis?

By ZVI ZINGER

OME twenty years ago a leading such a book would be unthinkable. S non-religibus educationist in Er- On the contrary, since 1959 the non etz Israel issued a book of Bible stories for children, and created a furor in the Yishuv. The book was remarkable for the fact that its Bib lical stories contained not a single mention of G-d. The only occasion where G-d was mentioned was the introduction, in which the author ex plained that he had deliberately omit ted from his “educational” Bible stories any mention of the Divinity. Some of the angriest protests came from educationists who had them selves spent years on excising the Divine from the teaching of Judaism. But they were up in arms when a colleague had decided to go the whole way and produced a G-dless Bible. That book was not granted recogni tion by any educational authority, and it soon disappeared from the bookshops. Nevertheless, at first it was given serious consideration by non-religious educationists. The au thor was the principal of a teachers’ college, a respected and influential authority on questions of education. It is a measure of the change of climate that has taken place in the country that today the publication of

religious schools have been running a program of “Jewish consciousness,” which includes the teaching of tradi tional Jewish thought and customs, and the purpose of this program is —in the words of an official direc tive of the Ministry of Education— “not to adopt a historical approach to the subject, but rather to treat Judaism as capable of contributing to contemporary issues.” The spon sors of this program have always been careful to point out that its purpose is not to direct the pupil to an ac tual commitment to the religious way of life. Rather the aim is to make the young generation acquainted with Jewish religious thought, the mitzvoth and the customs, and in gen eral to “develop a sympathetic under standing for the traditional forms of Jewish life.”

l^O N S IS T E N T unbelievers have no difficulty in pointing out the lack of logic and consistency in this ap proach. On the other hand, religious Jews are dissatisfied with a view of Judaism which is as vague as it is flexible. But the fact is that this unJ E W IS H LIFE

certain attitude is representative of ample is particularly significant, since the majority of the so-called non-re in Israel’s state legislation no distinc tion is made between the Sabbath ligious Israelis. There is a tendency to designate and Yom Kippur. It may be hard to as “non-religious” all Israelis who do gauge the religiosity of the Yom Kip not definitively identify themselves pur synagogue-goer, but at least this with the organized religious forces, or much is obvious—that he is commit who are not fully observant of the ted to some Jewish religious faith. mitzvoth maasiyoth in personal life. This view is quite unwarranted. While OWEVER, too much can be in many cases the attitude towards re made of this rather loose onceligion is so ambivalent as to make a-year commitment. It is far more Nt difficult to appraise and determine important to attempt to evaluate the tn^ attitude toward Jewish tradition, extent and depth of religious life ✓ 'tnere is in most instances no valid throughout the year. In such an eval basis for the assumption that these uation we must of course differentiate imputedly “non-religious” Israelis from others that section of Israeli have renounced their personal ties Jewry which is completely observant with traditional Judaism. In fact, the of the religious faith and mitzvoth. closer we observe and analyze the Is In Israel it is undoubtedly correct to raeli scene, the more apparent it be define the specifically religious sec comes that the so-called non-religious tion of the Jewish populace as ortho are in fact neither irreligious nor de dox, since in the whole of the coun void of belief in and observance of try there are only five Reform and the faith into which they were born two Conservative synagogues, all — orthodox Judaism. This is not to small. There are no statistics about deny ,the undoubted existence of con Orthodoxy in Israel, and the field is vinced atheists and opponents of re free for speculation and wishful think ligion. But by no stretch of the im ing. A visiting American Reform agination do these make up more minister told me recently he “knew” than twenty percent of the Jewish pop that only ten percent of the pop ulation in Israel. u la tio n was orthodox. A respectable How irreligious, then, are all those Anglo-Jewish weekly printed some numerous Israelis who are ostensibly time ago an article in which it was non-religious? The answer which lies asserted that only in the Mea Shearim ready to hand is to point—if not to quarter of Jerusalem can one find re the great numbers who attend serv ligious young people. In Israel we ices at Israel’s four thousand syna smile ruefully at these fly-by-night ex gogues every day and every Sabbath, perts. We know that the number of Is these multitudes supposedly not be raelis who are religiously observant ing inclusive of the “non-religious” in daily practice as well as orthodox category—to the overcrowded syna in belief cannot be less than fifteen gogues on the High Holy Days. In percent, for this is the share of the particular, one might remark on the religious parties in the Knesseth complete standstill of all private trav (eighteen out of 120 members). Fur elling on Yom Kippur. This last ex- thermore, it is equally agreed that

November-December, 1964

there are at least as many more who, ^ rs of Reform is probably nearer 200, for various reasoñs, vote for the non with about the same number identified religious parties. I doubt if any seriJ with Conservatism. Israelis at large, ous observers of the Israeli scene of whatever attitude towards religion, would put the proportion of fully Ob associate the Jewish religion only servant, consciously orthodox Jewi in with orthodox Judaism. A large num Israel at less than thirty percent. I ber of the so-called non-orthodox Is myself believe that the proportion raelis observe Kashruth in varying must be at least thirty-five percent. degrees, observe the Sabbath—-again, It is worth noting, in this connec in varying degrees— and attend syna tion, that one-third of Israel’s Jewish gogue services in varying frequencies. children are attending religious ele All of them want their marriages per mentary schools, either the/State reli formed in accordance with the reli gious schools, Mamlachti Dati, or the gious laws and customs, and all want Chinuch Atzmai system. / the State of Israel to be Jewish-tradiIt would appear then, that from tional in one way or another. the point of view of réligious iden They would be hard put to it to tification, Israelis m ay,be considered explain their theological position. as distributed along / the following Despite their ambiguous position in lin es:^ relation to Orthodoxy, they abjure / a ) About one-fi|,th of the Jewish heterodox movements. They are ve hemently opposed to Reform, which population ¿té irreligious. b) At least one-third of \ Israeli appears to them as a non-Jewish and Jews are definitively orthodox in even quasi-Christian religion. (An religious belief, practicó, and American Reform emissary, after hav ing spent a year in Israel in further identification. ance of an attempt to recruit a follow c) About forty-five percent basical ing for Reform, was impelled to ad ly hold traditional religious be mit that: “In the consciousness of the lief but are remiss in observance Israeli Jew, Reform is connected and do not identify themselves with the assimilationism of the nine with Orthodoxy in the ideolog teenth century.”) They believe in ical sense. G-d and they obviously want to have religion in their lives—though there T IS this third element which de is much vagueness and confusion fies definition in the terms which, among them as to what extent and because of the all-encompassing po in what way religion shall play a role litical and ideological pattern of Is in their lives. raeli life, are usually applied. They Significantly, there is today in Is may not be consistently observant ac rael, among wide elements of the pre cording to orthodox standards, but viously non-observant, a remarkable they have an indisputable measure of tendency to practice traditional cus commitment to the religious faith of toms. This is particularly apparent their fathers. There are certainly no among younger Israelis. Some have more than 300 Reform adherents in begun lighting candles on Friday eve the whole of Israel, and in fact the nings and others have proceeded from numerical strength of Israeli follow- this to the reciting of the Sabbath

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Kiddush. Increasingly, young people who are not formally “Datiim” are coming more or less regularly to syn agogue services. Often in daily con tacts one meets people whom one

takes to be not religious, and then one day when you mention this to them they are honestly indignant; “What! I am not religious? But I regularly attend synagogue!”

THE EMERGING TREND F we were to take our cue from the Israeli press we would see the religious scene in Israel in black and white. It frequently appears to be rather stormy, with protests, denun ciations, and anguished cries of “com pulsion!” But behind all the dramatic news there is the daily routine of life in Israel, and this life contains a good deal of traditional Judaism. To the overwhelming majority of Israelis re ligion is something of value. It would be misleading to speak of a movement of t’shuvah, of a widespread return to religion. But there can be no doubt that there is a perceptible change in the attitude to religion. The most striking illustration of this change that I have come across appeared in the Pesach issue of the journal of the Mapai youth organiza tion. This was a story which de scribed four stages in the evolution of a Zionist chalutz. First there was the fully traditional Seder at home. Then came the revolutionary Pesach ceremony in the early days of the kibbutz, which excluded all mention of Egypt, plagues, and the Red Sea. After the establishment of the State of Israel there was the first return to a slightly traditional Hagodah. And finally, in recent years, the Seder ceremony has become practically in distinguishable from the traditional Seder as it was celebrated at home— “We were slaves unto Pharaoh in

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Egypt, and G-d led us forth . . .” The traditional Seder had come full circle. The small minority of convinced and consistent irreligious Israelis has been loud in complaining of what it calls “the religious fashion.” The Mapam newspaper, A l Hamishmar, has published some articles which were critical of the growing trend among supposedly non-orthodox Is raelis to adopt religious observances. But it is significant that in recent years there have been comparatively few writings against religion per se. Even the rabidly anti-religious “League against Religious Coercion” is always careful in its public an nouncements to emphasize that its propaganda is directed only against what it calls “religious coercion.” One rarely hears these days in Israel an old-fashioned argument about religion. All the talk is about religious legis lation, compulsion, or the authority of the rabbinical courts. And speak ers always take care to point out that they do not intend to criticize reli gion. Sometimes this assertion is not made in all honesty. But the very fact that politicians are persuaded that they ought to declare their sym pathy for religion points up the atti tude of the purportedly non-orthodox segment of the population. r | ^HE question of the sincerity of JL non-orthodox politicians with re-

gard to religion is frequently raised. From a sociological point of view the question is meaningless. For if it is argued that a political party adopts a particular policy, not as a result of its sincere belief in this policy, but out of deference to the electorate, then the argument amounts to an ad mission that the electorate wants this particular policy. However, in Israel it has sometimes been suggested that all religious legislation has been passed only because Mapai needed the coalition votes of the National Religious Party. It is difficult to sus tain this proposition in view of the fact that in the course of sixteen years there have been times when the National Religious Party was in op position and there have been numer ous occasions when purely political considerations could have easily changed the constitution of the co alition. But apart from political cal culations, the present legislation on religious issues undoubtedly reflects by and large the wishes of the ma jority of the population. This has re cently been borne out by none other than the Liberal Party of Israel. This party has a long record of opposi tion to religious legislation, usually on the grounds of preserving liberty against the encroachments of religious coercion. And yet last July the Lib eral Party became the first Israeli non-religious party to pass what it called a “Charter for Religion.” On all counts there had been no apparent po litical reason for the adoption of a “charter” which committed the Lib

eral Party to oppose the separation of religion from the State. Only two possible reasons could be accepted for the adoption of this charter: a) The affirmative reason—that the leadership of the Liberal ■Party un derwent a change of heaft and be came convinced of the value of the Jewish religion and tradition in the life and legislation of thd State of Israel. b) The cynical reason-—that the leadership of the Liberal Party ar rived at the conclusion that during the coming election-year iC would be good policy for the party td come out publicly in favor of a dole link be tween religion and the Statl of Israel. From my observation of the reli gious situation and political affairs I am inclined to think that! both rea sons have a decisive, if not equal, share in the adoption of the Liberal “Charter for Religion.” Hjbwever, as far as our present argument is con cerned, either of the reasbns would point to the strength of thfe religious factor in the life of Israel. No one in his political sense could have dreamt that the “charter” would bring any of the votes of the religidus parties over to the Liberals. The^ “charter” was obviously drawn up to attract people who heretofore have not voted for the religious parties. The text of the “charter” has a passhge which emphasizes the value of religion even for persons “who do not belong to any of the religious trends or who are not at all religious.”

THE NEW MO O D HERE is a new mood in Israel, But a mood is elusive. One can-

T 10

not grasp it and pin it down. Perhaps the following anecdote can help J E W IS H LIFE

explain the novelty of the mood and its significance. I was walking in a Jerusalem street on a Sabbath morning, on my way home from the synagogue serv ice, with my talith bag under my arm. And then I met a fellow synagoguegoer, an old Jerusalemite who had come to the country some forty years ago. I did not know him well, but we had spoken several times on our way to and from synagogue. I knew he was a veteran of the old pioneer ing days. This particular Sabbath morning I noticed he was somewhat uneasy and tense. I could see that this quiet old man, usually shy and unassuming, was bursting to speak. He pointed at my talith bag. “You know, this is something quite new,” he said. “What is new?” I asked. “What I mean is that it’s new to me to see anybody walking in the street with a talith bag under his arm.” ‘.‘You mean that abroad, amongst the Gentiles, one did not carry the talith openly?” “No, I did not mean abroad, and I wasn’t thinking of goyim.” And then he stopped in his tracks. “I want to try to explain to you some thing that you may find hard to bebelieve. Its like this.” He was now speaking emphatically, standing next to me and gripping my talith bag. “When I came to Eretz Israel forty years ago, it was not fashionable among our sort to be re ligious, to go to the beth hakneseth, and when one of us went to syna gogue he would wrap his talith in a newspaper in order not to show that he carried a talith.” The old man walked on, then

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stopped and continued to speak: “We were chalutzim, pioneers. We wanted to be new people, different from our fathers and grandfathers, and so we threw out all traditions. No one dared in those days to declare in favor of ‘old fashioned’ and ‘reac tionary’ tradition. . . . Yes, things have changed.” He went on to tell of his friends who used to scorn re ligion, but now went to synagogue at least on Yomim Tovim, and none would miss the synagogue services on Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur. I realized the old man was telling me his own life story, but I joined in his manner of speaking about his friends, the old chalutzim who were turning to religion. “What happened to them? Why this return to religion and synagogue?” “Well, I suppose as one gets older one becomes wiser,” he said with an embarrassed smile. And then he did not want to talk any more. Perhaps he was not quite sure himself as to why he had returned. He was no philosopher, this old man. Having lost religion once he was now grop ing for it, knowing that it was right to do so without being able to analyze the reasons that led him to t’shuvah. This old man is by no means ex ceptional in Israel. And it is sig nificant that it does not affect only old people. Even among the “non religious” twenty percent of the Is raeli Jewish populace, only a minor ity is in fact thoroughly and con sistently irreligious. Most of the non orthodox Israelis have adopted vary ing degrees of personal commitment to religion. They are not prepared to accept all the implications of the religious requirements of Judaism,

but they want to conduct their liyes on the assumption that religion is important. They prefer to be illog ical rather than break completely with Judaism.

State of Israel’s laws are essentially secular. As the court explained its ruling, the core of The legal issue affecting Brother Daniel’s Jewishness was what the Israeli Law of Return (Chok HasKvuth) meant by the term “Jew.” Since this was a secular law, argued the court, the term “Jew” had to be defined as commonly under stood by the Jewish people. And since in the popular view an apostate is not a Jew, Brother Daniel was ex cluded under the terms of the Law of Return.

f | ^HIS ambivalence and lack of JL consistency was illustrated in the famous case of the meshumad, Brother Daniel, alias Oswald of Rufeisen, who wanted to be registered in Israel as being of “Christian reli gion and Jewish nationality.” In 1962 the Israeli High Court ruled that Brother Daniel was not ERE we to follow through to be registered as a Jew. One of the logically the opinion that it is justices argued that in modern so ciety the definition of Jewishness was precisely the secular law which ex purely national in the secular sense, cludes the apostate from Jewish so and a Catholic monk could there ciety, we would come up with the fore be a Jew. But this view remain view that the secular law is really ed a minority opinion — and this religious. After all, one is bound to clearly reflects the strength of this ask, why on earth should a secular view amongst non-religious Jews in law discriminate against a man who Israel. The majority wants to have differs from other Jews only in re no truck with the thoroughgoing spect of religion? If the answer secularization of Judaism. And the should be that this is how the Jew High Court presented this attitude ish community feels, we still ought in a moving passage: “What Brother to ask why a so-called secular so Daniel asks us is that we draw a line ciety happens to feel this way. over the sanctified historical mean Sooner or later we shall have to ing of being a Jew, and deny all the come up with the pbvious explana spiritual values for which we were tion that this so-called secular feel daily persecuted throughout our ing has its roots in religion. If a man long exile. The glory of our martyrs is ostracized because of his religion, of the Middle Ages would accord then the cause for the ostracism is ingly pale and vanish and our history anything but secular. The fact of the would lose its continuity. No one has matter is that if the Jewish society the right to demand such a sacrifice excludes the apostate it is precisely because the latter has changed his of us.” The actual view of the High religion. The case of Brother Daniel is Court Justices was not as clear-cut as the above passage would indicate. symptomatic of the perennial debate The significant aspect of the Court’s on the question “Who is a Jew?” The question is annoying to both relis decision was that its religious thesis was based upon the view that the gious and non-religious Jews, but in

J E W IS H LIFE

the present situation it cannot be avoided. And the inconsistency of the non-religious attitude to the problem is indicative of the religious roots of the “non-religious” Israelis. Some Israelis talk of the “search for the Sabbath.” What they mean by this is the old tradition that on the day of the Sabbath each Jew im bibes a neshomah yetherah, an ad ditional soul which assumes a height ened and intensified spiritual glow. Without some kind of religious con tent life is a long and unrelieved weekday. Traditional Judaism can provide, then, the real Sabbath of the

neshomah yetherah. On another level there are some who talk of “roots.” There are the roots of Jewish history and the roots of the Jewish land of Israel. These twin roots make up the old mystic action of the physical Eretz Israel and the spiritual Eretz Israel. Jew ish tradition forges a bond; which causes the earthly Eretz Israel to reach out and ascend to the heavenly Eretz Israel. It is probably not sur prising that ostensibly non-religious people take refuge in mystic notions in order to describe an impalpable mood.

NEEDED: THE PERSONAL APPROACH r r tH E new mood presents a great JL challenge to religious Jews both in Israel and outside. There are re ligious Israelis who are fighting in 1964 the religious battles of the twenties when the term chalutz was synonymous with opposition to reli gion. Worse still, the religious parties have become so ensnared by their successes in religious legisla tion that they tend to ignore the dangers inherent in overemphasizing the public and legislative aspects of religion. Here in Israel there is much talk of laws and political struggles about religion and very little of the essential message of religious faith and mitzvoth. In recent years reli gion has been exclusively a challenge to the non-religious parties, but very little had been done to present the personal challenge of religion to the non-religious Israeli. * This shift in emphasis is a matter of serious concern. It has caused re-

November-December, 1964

ligion to be thought of in terms of Knesseth instead of Beth Hakneseth. It has diverted public interest in religion from religious behavior to religious legislation. It has distorted the image of religion—turning a way of life into an object of political struggle. This is not an argument against the existence of religious parties, I am convinced that in the present circum stances there is no way of safeguard ing the Jewish character of the State of Israel without the political and leg islative work of the religious parties. But it is one thing to approve of the work of the religious parties for cer tain aims and purposes; it is quite an other to condone the reduction of re ligious public life almost exclusively to political and legislative activities. This, then, is not a plea for the aboli tion of religious parties but for the rise of a movement to present in pub lic the essential message of religion.

SRAEL’S religious forces have per mitted themselves to be saddled with a “minority” complex; they have viewed their constituency not as the eighty percent of Israelis who adhere —in such widely varying degrees of belief and practice—to the historic Jewish religion, but as the thirty-five percent who fully observe and are con sciously orthodox. In the ultimate sense, as distinguished from the ideo logical, the great majority of Israelis are orthodox Jews, but all too many of them are left to flounder in a

spiritual half-world. Religious leader ship would be well advised to think in terms of this broader constituency and to address itself with new pur pose and new approach to that great segment of Israeli Jewry which awaits understanding, guidance, and direc tion. The new situation in Israel presents a historic challenge to religious Jews in Israel and the D iaspora Let us hope we shall have the courage and vision to meet this challenge.

J E W IS H LIFE

A Symposium

TheTorah C om m unityFormat fo r the Creative Jewish Life in a Changing W orld The following four-fold feature is adapted from papers originally presented at a symposium on the above topic which took place at the 66th Anniversary National Biennial Convention of the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations of America (Washington, D.C., November 25—29). Each of the panel presenta tions treated of an individual aspect of the collective theme. The symposium evoked exceptional attention and comment, giving rise to many requests for its publication. In responding to these requests upon invitation of J e w is h L i f e , the participants have revised their presentations in some measure, with view to the change from platform to publication format, and have addressed to the reader audience the central facets of their respective theses. RABBI RALPH PELCOYITZ is spiritual leader of Congregation Knesseth Israel in Far Rockaway, New York. He is the former president of the Rabbinical Alliance of America and has served as Editor of its magazine “Perspective.” Articles by Rabbi Pelcovitz have appeared in previous issues of J e w is h L i f e , and in other periodicals. •

RABBI PINCHAS TEITZ, a member of the Presidium of the Union of Ortho dox Rabbis of the United States and Canada, established the Yeshivah Mesivta and the Bruriah High School for Girls in Elizabeth, New Jersey. He is the founder of the weekly Talmud Seminar, “Daf HaShovuah,” now celebrating its Bar Mitzvah year of broadcasting from WEVD in New York and from various sub-stations across the country; and of the National Bas Kol Talmudic Associa tion, an organization through which members around the world receive a series of lp recordings of Talmud Shiurim in Yiddish accompanied by English translations. RABBI NORMAN LAMM, who has travelled through several lands lecturing on topics of contemporary Jewish significance, is the Associate Rabbi of the Jewish Center in New York and teaches Jewish Philosophy at the Teacher’s Institute of Yeshiva University. Rabbi Lamm is the founder and first Editor of “Tradition,” the journal sponsored by the Rabbinical Council of America. •

RABBI IMMANUEL JAKOBOYITS, formerly the Chief Rabbi of Ireland, has served the Fifth Avenue Synagogue in New York since 1958. A frequent con tributor to both popular and scholarly journals here and abroad, Dr. Jakobovits is an acknowledged expert in the specialized field of medicine in Jewish law, and is the author of the noted work, “Jewish Medical Ethics.”

November-December, 1964

RALPH PELCOVITZ ____

W h o Is the O rth o d o x Jew? „.speaking, in our Jewish commuhities of the United States and Canada the designation^‘orthodox Jew’ is not neces sarily applied only to those whose lives are built on observance of Jewish tenets. Certainly this designation is ap plicable essentially to trie Shomer Mitzvoth afc^ this orthpdox Jew is, in number arid -capacity, the sub stantive element of the traditional Jewish world. Yet we must also in clude in the category of orthodox Jew the one who, while of lesser or even negligible observance in personal life, nevertheless retains spiritual al legiance to traditional Judaism. He is not a practicing orthodox Jew but rather a preferring one. He prefers to identify with the faith of his fathers and, in terms of formal affiliation, with the orthodox Synagogue and community. In his case, it is a state not of being, but of believing— and yet loyalty, preference, and affiliation are the bearers of hope and promise, and the forerunners of the Mitzvahdedicated life. The Jew who violates basic principles of faith but who cares about these principles, whose trans gression is coupled with concern, is indeed entitled to be considered as an orthodox Jew within the framework of modern-day Jewish society. Today, more so than in past de cades, the Shomrey Mitzvoth flourish in number and proportion, and play

e a l is t ic a l l y

an important role on the overall Jew ish scene. Yet along with thè Shomer Mitzvoth is to be found, everywhere, that other, non-observant category of orthodox Jew. This category may well represent today a substantial seg ment of those designated “orthodox Jews.” The type is not unique; in many communities it is the characteristic one. Out of its ranks, however,. Las emerged in recent years, and con tinues to emerge with increasing pace, yet another type of orthodox Jew. This one represents, if not yet the ideal, certainly a purposeful movement in the proper direction, aiming for the proper goal—belief translated into practice, observance based upon com mitment, rather than nostalgia or sen timent. In this age of choice, of option and opportunity, and yet an age marked by forces of conformity and assimila tion with the prevalent culture, there have emerged varieties of orthodox Jews. We find the Jew whose ortho doxy is one of unbroken familial con tinuity in belief and practice: the Jew whose orthodoxy is as yet one of mere preference and affiliation: and the Jew —often from non-orthodox back ground—whose orthodoxy is one of voluntary, personal choice and com mitment, born of his own spiritual searchings. This last-named, as the first-named, orthodox Jew, might be described in J E W IS H LIFE

capsule as one to whom Torah is not merely relevant to life but rather that which gives life relevance. Judaism, to him, is the fulfillment of the Teach ings revealed by G-d to Israel at Sinai, timeless, all-encompassing, by which every area of life, every aspect of human endeavor, is to be directed and shaped. Indeed, that other orthodox Jew, the one of unfulfilled preference, also senses this truth and clings to it.

IN TW O WORLDS fT lH E orthodox Jew today, living as -I- he does in an open society, but tressed though he be by his profound commitment to Torah Judaism, is con fronted with problems basic to his dis tinctive situation: How shall he mani fest his individual character? How shall he relate to the world and its manifold problems? How shall the collective character of the total ortho dox Jewish community be manifested? Foremost in his thinking is the realization that he must retain his identity as a committed Torah Jew while identifying himself with the general community. He must do this in a time marked by change, chal lenge, and persistent problems. In his Judaism he must be strong but never arrogant, tolerant without com promising his principles, reasoning while never rationalizing his beliefs. Today’s orthodox Jew must per force live and function in two worlds. One is the world of Torah, the other society at large. In his relationship to society there must be awareness and concern; he cannot isolate himself from his surroundings. Yet his involve ment must be measured and tempered by his special sense of values. He must ever judge, evaluate, and differentiate between the important demands of life

November-December, 1964

and the lesser ones, the basic and the trivial. He must ever determine for what shall he sacrifice and what he shall relinquish. “What do I cherish as opposed to what do I admireV9 What do I need as opposed to what do I want! These are the ever-re curring questions which pose them selves to the orthodox Jew living in a free, open society. To answer these questions he must establish a sense and a scale of values. He must understand and accept that the Torah shall fashion his values, his standards. The culture of the world may polish him, grant him sophistica tion, and give him tools and skills, yet it must never capture his soul or con quer his heart. It is a difficult and precarious balance that he must live with, but he must learn the lesson that an orthodox Jew may at times yield but never surrender. The Torah Jew immerses himself, his thinking, his attitudes, and his perspective, in the sea of Torah, but somehow can never plunge in with abandon into the ocean of ideas and values which the world around him offers. This does not mean that the Torah Jew is unmindful of social challenges and worldly problems. On the con trary, he is most sensitive to them. He feels, however, that he must bring to these problems the Torah perspec tive, be it on civil rights, nuclear force, automation, or space conquest. The Torah-oriented approach and answer is for him correct and effective, for it flows from the source of the au thentic Jewish spirit. The relevance of Torah to every area of human en deavor is to him a reality and most logical for it represents G-d’s teach ings and is appropriate for all time. The two worlds in which the or thodox Jew lives represent constancy

on the one hand and change on the other. Constancy represented in the eternal teachings and values of Torah, change in an environment that is rev olutionized unceasingly by technologi cal progress. Above all there is change in the shifting scale of values and standards modern society. The vessels change, the Tor afi"Tew must adapt, he must learn to use new tools and vehicles— all this mindful of a goal that is constant and unchanging. He must live in a world of alien values and retain his identity. He must cherish the substance of Torah while the style and standards of society are in radical contrast to the dictates of Torah. He must reject isolation and detachment and yet not resign him self to total involvement. To walk this tightrope with balance, grace, and style is the challenge presented to the orthodox Jew in our century. f I THE individual identity of the orJL thodox Jew, manifested by means which we have described, •must be matched by the manifestation of Or thodoxy’s collective identity. Just as an individual has a character and a soul so does a grouping, a community, a people have a collective soul and character. There must be a sense of purpose, experienced by a group, just as an individual realizes his need for a purpose and goal in life. To this end it is imperative that the voice and image of Orthodoxy be projected with clarity, vigor, and imagination. We mu§t be recognized by our sense of priqrity and by our scale of values. Our sensitivity and concern in areas such as Jewish education, communal responsibilities, philantrhopy, Israel, and indeed every area of Jewish civic endeavor must be uniquely marked by the Torah spirit. The refinement 18

of spirit and maturity of mind which Torah values implant in Torah Jews must be reflected in our every pro nouncement and certainly in our poli cies. Here again our reverance for Torah manifests itself in making the Torah perspective relevant and mean ingful at all times. Nothing in this world is alien or unimportant. The voice of Orthodoxy must be recog nized not because it is strident but because it is sincere and unequivocal. In all frankness we must confess that our collective voice has often been muted and the collective identity of orthodox Jewry quite blurred. The future, however, may be a bit brighter if we appreciate our great potential and the strength that is ours. “The influential” is the key phrase which will determine the destiny of Judaism in this country. Orthodox Jewry possesses within its ranks the “influentials.” Our American culture, with its stress upon mass production, mass transportation, and mass media, has obscured the importance of the highly educated, the specialist, the ex pert, who, though a small minority, exert a great influence in the forma tion of public policy and opinion. Perceptive political observers ap preciate the impact of the intellectual upon society, subtle though it may be. The wise student of history realizes the power of the elite—quality which transcends quantity, calibre which sur passes cant and conformity. Sheer numbers may triumph for a time, but ultimately, it is the knowing, com mitted, and courageous carriers of ideas and ideals who prevail.

QUANTITY AND QUALITY

N the Jewish community, obsession with enrolled numbers, the yardJ E W IS H LIFE

stick of quantity and the measure of importance by size, has also been dominant in recent years, reflecting the values of society at large. This too has obscured a vital truth. The strength, the power of growth, indeed the means of survival of Judaism and Jews in this country have not been manifested in forces and movements with the greatest organized numbers. The sad failure of major Jewish or ganizations—religious and secular— to stem the tide of assimilation, in termarriage, and increasing loss of Jewish identity, is directly responsible for the so-called “vanishing Jew.” When authentic Judaism vanishes the Jew becomes invisible as well. The tenuous tics to Jewishness of a new generation, the blurred lines of demar cation between Jew and non-Jew, tes tify to the bankruptcy of groupings and organizations on the American Jewish scene which have centered on multiplication of number. This obses sion with numbers has led, paradoxi cally to an alarming decrease in num bers. Orthodoxy has demonstrated in the past decade that only total commit ment to Torah Judaism can increase the quality and caliber of those whose latent loyalties are awakened. The rev olutionary change wrought in the or thodox camp has been the increasing observance among younger people of Jewishness and Jewish practice* rooted in conviction rather than coercion, in deep belief rather than superficial sen timentality, in understanding rather than conformity. This elite, educated, qualitative force within Jewry, though not in mass number, must have its effect upon the complexion of com munities. Their influence is already felt in many areas and will increas ingly be sensed as the products of the

November-December, 1964

day schools and yeshivoth take their rightful places in the American Jewish community. Responsible Jewish lead ers are beginning to recognize this new breed of “influentials”—the intelligent, sophisticated, articulate, committed orthodox Jew. What is of equal importance is that important elements of the non-Jewish community, especially its religious leaders, are beginning to realize that they may have been conducting their dialogue with Jewish leaders who rep resent, for the most part, the vanish ing Jew. The next few years may well witness full recognition on the part of the general community, that the authentic Jewish spokesmen and lead ers are those who speak on behalf of and represent authentic Judaism*— namely, orthodox Judaism. $

sfc

%W7~E see then that the orthodox ▼▼ Jew, evolving from the affiliated to the committed, from preference to practice, must perforce function in two worlds. His values must be drawn from Torah while his skills and tools come from the halls of universities and his tastes and style are influenced by his environment. The world is very much with him, but he attempts to transcend it while remaining in it. As for the orthodox Jewish com munity, its strength lies in its quality, its total commitment to functional Jewishness in depth as opposed to nostalgic and superficial cultism. Van ishing Jews are the direct result of vanishing Judaism. Orthodox Jews are ever-enduring ones for they are linked to eternal ideas and ideals. Not by numbers or “nisim,” but by con stancy and courage will they prevail. A comment recently made by a

political analyst may well be adapted to our theme. Discussing the difficul ties presented to the western alliance by General DeGaulle and his intrans igent policies, the analyst observed that the trouble with the good general was that one half of him is in the nineteenth century while the other is in the twenty-first century. The per ceptive, positive orthodox Jew finds himself in this same dilemma. He is rooted in the traditions of the past while ever preparing for the future. He is attached to the past while seeing much more clearly than others what the future holds in store. His perspec tive is colored by the Sinai experience while his grasp and vision propel him far beyond the immediate tomorrow

to the historic tomorrow of the Jewish people. Jefferson once said: “Liberty is a boisterous sea. Timid men prefer the calm of despotism.” Orthodoxy is also a boisterous sea, difficult, chal lenging, and exhilarating. Timid Jewish souls may prefer the convenient, the comfortable, the dull conformity of a safe, undemanding religion. It is our lot and historic destiny to be the guardians of the heritage which was entrusted to us. This is our destiny, especially in our day, not by virtue of self-designation but by virtue of our loyalty, our faith, by adherence and continuity. History will record whether we have the stamina and courage to sail this boisterous sea.

PINCHAS M. TEITZ

The Torah Com m unity as a D eveloping Force T o d a y Y¥ 7 HOEVER possesses a sense of ▼▼ history realizes that world Jewry today, be it in Israel, America, or Europe, is experiencing a great change and is beginning to move in a direc tion vastly different from the one pur sued during the first half of this cen tury. This change, this new direction, is most markedly exemplified in the aspirations of Jewish youth throughout the world. A new image of an edu cated, modern, learned, and observ ant person has appeared on the Jew ish scene and has become the ideal that young men and women strive to emulate. We may well ask ourselves: 20

What exactly caused this great change? In just what direction is world Jewry moving? For this change is not mere ly a religious revival but a Torah renaissance* or to use a current term, a Torah “explosion.” The magnitude of the change is evident when we compare what was associated with Yiddishkeit years ago with what is associated with it now. Jewish living used to be synonymous with European ways, first-generation immigrants, a passing generation whose customs and ideals would die when it died. Today, Yiddishkeit is synonymous with intellectually-aware J E W IS H LIFE

ish way of life. Our generation was originally of neither kind; it did not possess knowledge of Torah nor did it inherit from the previous generations a loyalty and devotion to Jewish ob servance. How did our generation acquire a desire for Torah? What brought about the present change in our people’s thinking and way of life? We can perceive a cause of this change in examining Pirkey Ovoth V, 17. Here, in describing the character istics of those who attend the Beth Hamidrash, the house of study, four types are enumerated: the one who attends but does not practice; the one who practices but does not attend; the one who both attends and prac tices; and the one who neither attends nor practices. We immediately question the inclusion of the fourth type: How can a man who neither attends the Beth Hamidrash nor observes be clas sified as an adherent of the Beth Hamidrash? What is his connection? He denies any association with it or its teaching. One answer is that the man who neither observes nor attends is the greatest inspiration for other men to go to the Beth Hamidrash. Others who observe his life will per ceive how empty it is of purpose, how void of meaning, and will recognize the necessity of both attending the Beth Hamidrash and practicing Torah learning in order that their lives may N Jewish history we have had not be a nullity, but will instead be periods called dor deah, a genera rich in meaning. Similarly, the previ tion of Torah knowledge, when this ous generation was one eyno holech knowledge was the possession of the Veyno oseh — neither attending nor many, not only of the few. We have practicing. Precisely because that gen had other periods which may be eration was of that character, a reac characterized as a dor emunim, a gen tion was produced in its children. The eration that was loyal to the traditions children realized how empty their of our people. Although this group parents’ lives had been and deter did not inherit Torah learning, it did mined not to make the same mistake. inherit a love and respect for the Jew- They recognized the evanescent na-

young men and women who look forward to carrying on the ageless customs and traditions of Torah. Fifty years ago instances could already be found of Kashruth being observed not because the given person cared to but out of deference to European parents. Today you may find European-born parents and grand parents who observe Kashruth because their American children or grandchildren desire a kosher home. A quarter of a century ago, when you entered a house where a grandfather, father and son lived, you could be certain that any religious books you might find there belonged to the grandfather. Today, when you see a Shulchon Oruch, a Shas, a Rambam in such a house, you can be almost as sure that these books do not belong to the grandfather or the father but to the son; perhaps some of them belong to a daughter. Formerly, when synagogues were built, only the European generation would take care that Halachic standards be observed; the American generation accepted whatever was presented to it first— orthodox, Conservative, or Reform, as the case might be. Today the younger generation is more likely to insist that the synagogue be built in accordance with the Shulchon Oruch while the older generation might thoughtlessly relinquish a part of its heritage.

November-December, 1964

ture of their parents’ beliefs and chose our permanent tradition for them selves. In America, where we are so con scious of compressing a philosophy in to a slogan, the attitude of the previ ous era could be contained in the phrase: “Forget your Jewishness; be modern;” the outlook of the current era should be expressed: “Be modern, be orthodox.” \ X T E can understand the adoption ▼V of this new attitude by the young generation through a Talmudic saying as well: “He who fully denies idolatry is considered as one who ac cepts the Torah in its entirety.” The f‘idolatry” of our people lay in the foreign ideas and ideals that pene trated Jewish life in the early part of this, century. The foundation for these foreign beliefs was shattered by the events in our history during the last tweniy-five years; it is no longer pos sible to have faith in them. Our own generation was inspired to look for something true, for the belief that had always sustained our people, for values and ideals that would not atrophy as had those of the generation before us. By coming in contact with even the bit of genuine Torah that did exist, our generation sensed Yiddishkeit, began to hunger for Yiddishkeit, to nurture it, to encourage its growth. We realized that genuine Jewish values consist entirely in Torah, for Judaism has but one definition and that defini tion is Torah. Jewish life rises to great heights or may decline, G-d forbid, depending on the standard of Torahlearning and Torah living that prevails. The greatest danger to Jewish life is therefore not anything external but am-hoaratzuth, ignorance of Torah. In America Am-aratzuth assumed a na 22

ture different from that which it had possessed at any previous time. In our recent history Am-aratzuth was not a passive factor,- a mere lack of Jewish knowledge, but unfortunately, an active force. It was elevated to the status of a cult. A whole philosophy was developed. Huge national move ments dedicated themselves to Amaratzuth. Schools were built which bestowed diplomas: “Doctor AmHooretz;” ‘'Professor Am-Hooretz;” even “Rabbi Am-Hooretz.” Millions of dollars were spent to educate Ame rican Jewry in Am-aratzuth and to maintain them in that state, for these movements can exist and prosper* on ly so long as the state of Am-aratzuth prevails. UT every Jew has a soul which B was present at Mount Sinai and cannot be satisfied with anything but genuine Torah, genuine Yiddishkeit. The unfortunate men and women who still belong to other movements are actually searching for genuine Yiddish keit but do not know how and where to find it. The human race, with all its advances in innumerable fields, does not yet fully understand Torah. Our generation now yearns for Torah. The Torah does not speak in the language of yesteryear but in the language of tomorrow. I feel therefore that it is the Torah community which will determine the future of the Jewish people. Our efforts must be concen trated on learning Torah, on teaching Torah, on making our generation into one of Torah. Our yeshivoth have exerted an enor mous force in bringing Torah to our children. Now we must bring Torah to the older generation as well. What can we do so that Torah will become the possession of every Jew? J E W IS H LIFE

Let us institute a program whereby every Jew will not permit a day to go by without spending at least eighteen minutes to one hour in learning Torah. This studying can be done in any language, in any poriton of the Torah. Let no one be discouraged by the in itial difficulty of setting aside time each day. As our Sages say: One can acquire his world in but one hour. There is not a man who does not own at least one hour. We must recognize the difference between our philosophy of life and that of our neighbors. Where others say “live and learn” Judaism maintains “learn and live.” Where the foundation of a secular education is summarized in the three r’s, ours should be based on the three 1’s:

Learning Torah Loving Torah Living Torah. A T this moment we have small iV streams of Torah scattered throughout the world. We are aware of the troubled waters of ignorance and confusion which disturb and de flect many of our people from their rightful course. Let us unite the iso lated streams of Torah into one mighty stream that will cleanse Jewish life of idolatry, that will restore all to its original purity. Then we will see a generation of learned parents and children, of observant parents and children. Then a united Jewry, in spired by the eternal Torah ideals, will find the course leading to a full spiritual redemption.

NORMAN LAMM

The Jewish-Christian Dialogue: A n o th er Look NEW attitude seems to have crystallized in American Jewish leadership which reflects the funda mental position of Orthodoxy. De spite some protests—such as that of a writer in the American Jewish Committee’s magazine who down graded what he called our “ramparts psychology” and the “outbreak of Jewish self-respect”-—there has been,

Since my article on “The Jews and the Ecu menical Council” appeared in the NovemberDecember 1963 of Jewish L ife , a number of significant events have taken place that deserve comment on these pages. I appreciate, therefore, the editor’s invitation to set down some of the observations made in my symposium address.— Norman Lamm.

November-December, 1964

largely, a disengagement from direct contact with Vatican officials, from pleading with them for a “good” Jewish statement. The pilgrimages to Rome have noticeably decreased-—to the consternation of the travel agents and the relief of traditional Jews who possessed self-respect even before the “outbreak.” There is evident a new awareness of the basic evangelical overtones and presuppositions of the draft schema on the Jews. What cleared the air was the in tervention of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, whose immense learning and undisputed Halachic authority lent

cogency to his position, which was brilliantly conceived and articulately expounded in the last issue of “Tra dition.” Stripped of its philosophical prologomenon and exegetical epilogue (superb reading in their own right!) the essence of his article is a formu lation of elegant simplicity: Theo logical dialogue with Christianity is an absurdity, religiously unsound and spiritually untenable; and cooperation on the socio-cultural or secular level is clearly a desideratum. While Rab bi Soloveitchik cannot in any way be held responsible for any faults the reader may find with the present ex position, these lines ought to be read in the nature of footnotes to his the sis. T should be understood that “dia logue” is more than polite conver sation, even more than a scholarly colloquim. It involves the logos, the fundamental commitment of faith. It is a profound confrontation in which everything is risked, in which the re sults always remain unforeseen, and from which the two partners in dia logue rarely emerge unchanged. It is because of the unique and intimate nature of the logos, the incommensur ability of one faith commitment with another, that we hold theological dia logue to be an absurdity. Further more, the relation of Judaism to Christianity is not the same as the re lation of Christianity to Judaism. His torically, Christianity arose from with in the matrix of Judaism; historically again, Judaism of today stands in a di rect and unbroken line of descent from the Judaism that flourished long be fore the Christian era. In other words, no matter what our worldly historical involvements have been, Christianity is theologically irrelevant for the Jew,

whereas the Christian must take a doctrinal stand, one way or the other* on Judaism and its role in the world. Accordingly, when, for example, a distinguished Christian theologian like Professor W. D. Davis pleads for a di alogue with’ Judaism because he de sires a re-emphasis on some of the Semitic and Judaic elements of Chris tianity at the expense of its Hellenistic and Roman roots, our answer must be a respectful declination. Our re corded history and the literary sources of our religion are open for investi gation by any scholar. The Christian thinker may search them to his heart’s content, in an attempt to define him self better in terms of Judaism as the origin of his own faith. But the re verse cannot take place. We have no special theological relationship to Christianity, nor can we have one. Our faith derives from sources and times which long antedate the advent of Christianity. One further factor contributes sig nificantly to this attitude towards Jewish-Christian theological dialogue. That is, the near-inevitability of an evangelical or missionary purpose on the part of the Christian partner in such a conversation. It is clear that no matter how elegantly or inoffen sively such ideas are stated, they are very real, for to the Christian the function of “witness” is an integral part of his faith. With the exception of thinkers such as Niebuhr and Til lich, the overwhelming majority of Christian leaders, no matter how friendly to Jews, refuse to abandon their proselytizing efforts. * I ^HIS does not in any way mini-. - I mize the achievements of the Vatican Council, nor does it imply lack of appreciation for the courageJ E W IS H LIFE

ous humaneness of liberal Catholic churchmen. Anyone who is acquaint ed with the bitter experience^ of Jews throughout the ages at the hands of Christians who were convinced that all Jews bear the guilt of the cruci fixion, will acknowledge that it re quired a great deal of m<iral strength in order to overcome 2,000 years of sanctified bigotry. Nevertheless it would be wrong of us to assume that this new liberal tendency implies a decision by the Church to forego its efforts to convert the Jews to Christianity. It is perhaps more than an accident, and more thah a result of inner poltical \ntrigue in the Vatican Council, that the draft on the Jews was approved while the draft on religious liberty failed. In other words, we are being “exoner ated” from the charge of killing Jesus, but, as a religious community we have not yet been accorded our full right to an independent existence! Anyone, therefore/w ho imagines that Christianity, and especially the Roman Catholic Church, are ready to accept Judaism as an autonomous faith with complete rights to its fu ture existence, is living in a dream world. Interestingly, of the three draft statements on the Jews so far, the first contained nothing overt that might indicate a missionary motive. The second draft revealed the heavy hand of the Curia in making an ex plicit plea for conversion, in addi tion to restricting forgiveness for the crucifixion to modern days only. This was greeted by a bitter outcry among American Jews, who should have known better, but who in their naive te assumed the absence of the evan gelical element as long as it was not openly mentioned. One recalls the al leged comment of one Protestant ob-

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server at the Council to another— “After all, you know, the Pope is a Catholic!” The third draft proposal strikes a compromise between the two previous ones. In other words, it con tains the missionary element but in covert, disguised form.

EVANGELICAL COMMITMENT i^E R T A IN L Y , when—as the most ^ recent draft schema states—“the Church awaits that day . . . on which all people will address the Lord in single voice and serve him shoulder to shoulder,” despite the fact that the statement comes from our Scriptures (Zephaniah), it is not meant to be un derstood in terms of Jewish escha tology. Our vision of the “end of days” is one in which all the world will abandon idolatry and turn to the One G-d, but each people according to its own idiom and its own inner na ture. When the Christian repeats the above quotation from Zephaniah, he refers exclusively to an affirmation of Christian witness by all mankind: to him “the Lord” does not bear the same meaning as it does for us. In this the Catholic, or Christian of whatever denomination, is completely within his rights. Jews can have no quarrel with such efforts—provided they are open, undisguised, and ac cord with the methods of a free so ciety. But we, in our turn, must re fuse to engage in any conversation, whether or not we dignify it with the more fashionable term “dialogue,” in which our own religious existence and rights are not axiomatically accepted as non-negotiable. That the Christian partner in “dia logue” is, with the very few exceptions mentioned above, unconditionally committed to proselytizing the Jew-

ish partner, is evident from the many sources at our disposal. The reader may be interested in a reaction to my previous article on this theme in J e w is h L i f e , in which I singled out this evangelical element as one of the probable causes of the Ecumenical Council’s statement on the Jews. In the May-June, 1964 issue of the bi monthly periodical “Dialogue,” pub lished by the Sisters of Notre Dame de Sion in Canada, there appears an eminently fair summary of my J e w is h L i f e article. At the end of this summary, which tries to explain my position despite the fact that “some people have been surprised and a little indignant” over such Jewish reactions, appears the following statement: With these considerations in view we must be prepared for articles like that of Rabbi Lamm, and should realize that though we may not like that attitude, it is, in the circum stances, an understandable one, even if it is not very conducive to dia logue. We should also try to show that our desire .for better understand ing is a sincere one, and not a subtle cloak for sinister activitiesas is be lieved by some non-Christians. (Last italics mine.) Now, I do not doubt that the writer’s desire for better understand ing is a sincere one. But I respectfully question whether there is not an equal ly sincere desire for converting Jews. It so happens that the religious order which publishes this periodical was founded in the 1840’s by a FrenchJewish convert to Catholicism, MarieTheodore Ratisbonne, who established this particular order in thanksgiving for the conversion of his brother, Alphonse-Marie. The two brothers to gether tried to convert the Jews of Strasbourg and clearly intended the

order they founded to be a mission to the Jews. We find a more commendable frankness in the words of Pope Paul when he announces that the purpose of dialogue is an “apostolic” endeavor. . . . “Even before converting the world, nay, in order to convert it, we must meet with the world and talk with it.” In the same spirit, a leading Catholic layman implores his “Jew ish brothers” not to take offense at his allusion to conversion. “My sole point is to stress here that the Church, not tolerating the notion of an ex clusion of the Jews, accords them a place of honor, longs to share with them its very household.” (“Encoun ter” [Kansas City, 1965] p. 10.) In other words, the Catholic’s love for the Jew is so overwhelming that he cannot rest until he has convinced the Jew to share his Catholic faith. T should not be thought that this evangelical motivation is peculiar to the Catholic world. It is shared, and perhaps more pronouncedly so, by the Protestant world. Thus, a Lutheran theologian pleads for a con tinuation of Protestant missionary ef forts towards the Jews not, in this instance, out of love for the Jews who so sorely need conversion, but out of concern for the Christian, who needs the very act of missionizing in order to define himself better:

[The] mission to the Jews is today —and perhaps has always been— of greater and more fundamental sig nificance for the Church and her self understanding, rightly understood, but also for the preservation of her Christianness in the literal sense of the word, than for the Jews them selves. It can only be hoped that the intellectual leaders of Judaism can J E W IS H LIFE

be won over to seeing and under standing this, the more so since it cannot remain hidden from them what the consequences would be for Judaism if the basic messianic struc ture of Christianity were to be lost. (“Lutheran World,” July, 1964 p. 295). The same writer, in the same ar ticle, is quite frank in stating that a “dialogue” in which the Christian partner is forbidden to witness to his faith is a conversation which at the outset disadvantages the Christian, {ibid. p. 294). And another Lutheran theologian certainly has this writer’s sympathy when he argues against the obfuscation of the missionary intent of conversation with Jews by the use of semantically more elegant but de ceptive terms such as “dialogue” : That the “approach to the Jews” takes place in : “cooperation” and “dialog” and not in “mission,” can in no way diminish the importance of the apostolate in the Church. . . . When exchanging “modern” words for more modern words, the neces sary and elementary words like ¿ ‘proclamation,” “concessions,” “wit ness” must be kept as expressions of the decisive fact that the Church al ways meets Jews and gentiles with a specific mandate, as well as with a specific promise, {ibid., p. 278). Now, Christians are completely within their democratic rights in pur suing their evangelical missions, pro vided their methods are not coercive or deceptive. But certainly, by no standards . „can any self-respecting Jew be expected to engagé in this kind of “dialogue.”

JEWISH REACTIONS

IVEN this kind of information, which ought to be available to

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Jewish leaders who presume to speak in the name of our community and our faith, it is pertinent to inquire how these Jewish leaders have reacted to the overtures by various Christian Churches. Many, as has been stated, have evinced a new restraint and an increased awareness of the dangers of theological dialogue. But in some cases, unfortunately, the exact reverse has been true. It is painful to have to subject to public criticism fellow Jews who, in our opinion, have failed in such a highly sensitive and conse quential area. But it is precisely for this reason that such exposure be comes Jewishly and morally obliga tory. Perhaps the most outrageous of all Jewish reactions to the first draft schema of the Ecumenical Council was the public announcement, widely publicized in the press, by the presi dent of the national Reform congre gational organization, who offered to reward the Vatican for its “absolu tion” of the Jews from the crime of deicide by, in turn, accepting Jesus as a historic figure in the tradition of Jewish prophecy. Even large seg ments of the non-orthodox Jewish world were scandalized by the sUrnad implied in this statement,- anci by the theological shallowness and religious vacuity in offering. to trade dogmas and doctrines. v The author of this announcement, clearly hurt by the public outcry, has since -published a book . presumably designed to clear his name. In it, however, instead of an apology or re traction, we find injury compounded by insult. While the Reform leader unambiguously asserts, in this book, that he did not have in mind any ac ceptance of Jesus in a theological sense, he yef pursues even more rad-

ically his theme of ’accepting the his torical person of Jesus as an authentic Jewish figure. The reader will please excuse me for burdening him with the following passage which will no doubt prove offensive to his sen sitivity; but it is necessary to read it in order to understand the incredible assimilation of all facets of Christian ity, short of theological commitment, to which certain Reform leaders are subject:

dramatic visualization of the true Jesus, both as a positive example ot moral rectitude and as an antidote to the fictitious one imbibed with the jibe of “Christ Killer.” Thus, I would call a halt to those who shrink in terror or smile superciliously at the mention of his name. (Maurice N. Eisendrath, “Can Faith Survive?”, p. 202). Our Sages would have coriimented: afra b’fumey d'hahu gavra! ,

For while, admittedly, there is no lack in Israel of prophets true and brave “who preached righteousness in the congregation,” still there are aspects of Jesus’ character and career which, in the words of [Reform] Rabbi Hyman Enelow, were “unequalled in human history.” What conceivable ob jection could there be—other than long-smouldering prejudice, however justified it may have been—to includ ing the majestic sentences of the Ser mon on the Mount among the other post-Biblical readings in our syna gogues? Are not some of the down-toearth, homely parables of Jesus of in estimable value as moral instruction for our children and youth? Why— because of all the aforementioned desecration of the life of Jesus by virtue of the libel concerning his death—must we put ethical and spiritual blinkers on our religiousschool children by depriving them of the exalted teachings contained in the tale of the Good Samaritan, which we so scrupulously excise from our curriculum and Jewish heritage? I would teach such moving stories and utterances diligently un to our children along with those of Moses and Hillel. I would even dare to show non-Christological pictures of Jesus’ life and martyrdom in our religious schools, as we have made exciting filmstrips of other heroic Jewish figures. I would use similar techniques to give our own children

NOTHER Reform figure, a pro fessional in Jewish-Christian re lations, in an address to the Lutheran World Federation in Denmark last May, is inevitably led to a position which borders on relativism and indifferentism. He thus glibly applies to the differences between Judaism and Christianity the words of the Rabbis which seek to contain both the opin ion of the schools of Hillel and Shamai within the context of Halachic Judaism: “Both schools are the words of the living G-d,” (Arthur Gilbert, “The Mission of the Jewish People in History and in the Modern World,” p. 27). The same writer, despite all his attempts at countering the Christian motif of proselytization in dialogue, falls prey to it and himself assumes a Christian idiom in his dialogue: Jews teach a complacent church, too concerned with its institutional welfare, that the crucified Christ can not be confined to the church. Rather He ($/c!) is with all those who suffer because of the sins of mankind. Jews have borne the pen alties of Christian apostasy from their Christ. The prototype of the suffering servant in contemporary history has been the Jewish people. (ibid, p. 30). It is particularly this type of uncon scious assimilation of Christian ter-

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minology and insidious absorption of Christian forms of thought against which Rabbi Soloveitchik warned when he wrote, “However, if the de bate should revolve around matters of faith, then one of the confronters will be ijnpelled to avail himself of the language of his opponent. This in itself would mean ^surrender of in dividuality and distinctiveness.” (“Tra dition,” loc. cit. p. 25). Even more recently, the new fad of “dialogue” has attracted hangerson who Have succeeded in making a tragi-comedy of the entire enterprise, thereby bringing the whole notion of dialogue into disrepute. Press reports of this past November 23rd tell of “a number of programs being initi ated by the Union of American He brew Congregations Department of Interfaith Activities to follow up the adoption of the Catholic Church’s Ecumenical Council of a declaration absolving the Jewish people of deicide and condemning anti-Semitism.” We are further told that under the guid ance of the director of the depart ment “a number of person-to-person dialogues have been arranged be tween Christians and Jews. . ... . In Long Island, representatives of Re form congregations and of the Epis copal Church are discussing the theme of worship and goals and meth ods in the respective Reform and Episcopal liturgies. Other confronta tions have been scheduled with Prot estants and Catholics in Chicago, Boston, Philadelphia, and in the southeastern section of the United States.” How can any serious thinker or sincere believer of any faith even contemplate such a horrendous cari cature of religion? One can only be embarrassed by such undignified gim-

November-December, 1964

mickism, reducing the sublime to the ridiculous and the cosmic to the com ic. Here the whole idea of dialogue has been reduced to its ultimate ab surdity: a pretentious conversation in which we exchange what we do not know for what we cannot believe.

SOCIO-CULTURAL DIALOGUE O, in matters of faith and ultimate N commitment the only authentic dialogue is that between G-d and man. Conversation on such matters between members of faith communi ties as disparate as Judaism and Chris tianity represents a distraction from and not a contribution to the great dialogue. However, having denied the possi bility of any theological dialogue be tween Judaism and any other faith, we must now emphasize the converse: The very real need for a socio-cultural dialogue with Americans of other creeds. It is essential to realize that we live in the kind of country where vital interests overlap. The legitimate concerns of the Jewish community and of other faith com munities are accordingly so juxta posed that it is necessary to discuss their relationships on a secular or so cial or political level. We orthodox Jews have usually left such activi ties to the Reform or secular groups. Suddenly, however, the problems of a world in crisis and ferment have overwhelmed us, and the complex is sues of the surrounding world are thrust upon us. But while we have been delinquent in the past in press ing our case and offering our coopera tion with other faiths in the larger context of American public life, we no longer may sit aside and introvertedly ignore the great world out-

side us. It is about time that we got into the stream of world affairs; the waves are rough, the water is cold, and the currents are powerful, but it is bracing, and we must take the plunge. This dialogue, this two-way con versation, requires, above all, com plete honesty, a “radical frankness.” Sometimes such conversation will hurt; but good health sometimes re quires a bitter pill. I believe it is important to men tion examples of this exchange in both directions: from the Jew to the non-Jew, and from the non-Jew to the Jew. IRST, as part of the ongoing socio-cultiiral dialogue with the Roman Catholic world, I would press the Catholic Church to explain its stand on the State of Israel. One need not be a political Zionist to see in the State of Israel an act unprece dented in Jewish history, and a con solation, however, inadequate, for the frightful losses which our people sustained in World War II. Jews throughout the world bear the scars of two thousand years of Christian civilization, and we cannot accept with equanimity the negative attitude of the Church towards Israel. We must say it openly. It is not enough to “absolve’1; Jews from the crucifixion. In the name of that act, millions of Jews have suffered not only cruci fixion but every form of death that the evil genius of man can devise. I do not believe that it is too much for us to expect from the Catholic .Church not only “absolution” but also contrition. The Lutheran Church was moved to express precisely htat sentiment. At the meeting of the Lu theran World Federation this past

May in Logumkloster, Denmark, that Church issued a document in which, among other things, it stated: “Christian” anti-semitism is spiritu al suicide. . . . No Christian can exempt himself from involvement in this guilt. As Lutherans, we confess our own peculiar guilt, and we la ment with shame the responsibilities which our Church and her people bear for this sin. We can only ask G-d’s pardon and that of the Jewish people. (“Lutheran World,” July 1964, p. 267; italics mine.) I do not believe that any Jew alive today has the moral right to extend pardon to anyone in the world for what has been done to our people. But at least we may expect that the pardon be asked. One might have hoped, especially in light of the reve lations of the unhappy role played by the Vatican during the War years, and, even more, in view of the pres ent Pope’s profound resentment of the criticism of his predecessor who was Pontiff during that period, that such an attitude would be forthcom ing from Rome. Instead, the State of Israel is to day recognized by all the West, by most Communist governments, and even by some Moslem countries— but not by the Vatican. F COURSE we recognize the Church’s concern for the Cath olics living in Moslem countries. We are aware of many delicate political considerations. We are even aware of the fact that the Vatican, in its inner deliberations about the “Jewish prob lem,” has pondered less worthy con siderations, such as the Vatican in vestments and Italian foreign markets (for more on this see Michael Serafi-

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an’s “The Pilgrim,” pp. 90, 127, 199200, and 213). We may be aware of these things; but can we morally accept them? This, let us remember, is a postAuschwitz era. We live in an age when Hochhuth in his “The Deputy,” and a number of careful historians since, have exposed the moral bank ruptcy of a church giving undue weight to such items in the face of high moral demands. We can no longer accept such excuses. Israel is a land to which fled the refugees from German fury and Christian silence. As an act of historic justice, Israel must be recognized by the Church. And, as an act of contrition, Israel must not only be recognized but helped and encouraged. UT the socio-cultural dialogue cuts the other way too. The B American Jewish community must learn not only to give criticism, but to accept it as well. It must learn that the non-Jewish world has every right to question our underlying ax ioms and purposes. That we are not yet ready for this encounter became evident during the great national debate before, during, and after the Supreme Court decision concerning prayer in the public schools. At that time, the respected Jesuit journal “America” issued a bold challenge to the Jewish com munity which seemed to enrage ev ery element of American Jewry. The wording of the editorial, it is true, was extravagant and unkind. The im plied threat, if such it was, was unworthy; disgraceful. But the re sentment it incurred was far in ex cess of what it deserved. Essentially the editorial stated a very real and

November-December, 1964

fundamental question: Who are you Jews? What do you represent? Are you a religious community, or are you merely a group of people, eth nically united, who mouth the usual stereotyped liberal sentiments charac teristic of your class? What has hap pened to your much celebrated uniqueness? That was a legitimate question. One may, to this day, be in favor of or against the recital of prayers in the public schools. That is irrelevant to our discussion. What is germane is the fact that the challenge was a rea sonable part of the dialogue, but our response was not. Indeed, it seems that very few of the majority deci sions of the American Jewish com munity today are predicated upon Jewish principles or derived from genuinely Jewish sources. One need not expect every public position of American Jewry to sound like a t’shuvah to a Halachic query. Yet certainly we ought occasionally to sound like people with at least gen eral religious concerns, if not those of a unique covenanted community. In essence, therefore, the major bur den of the Christian statement to the Jews in dialogue is: By what right do you speak as Jews, in what way are you Jewish, and in what manner may we regard you as a “faith com munity?,” to use Rabbi Soloveitchik’s felicitous term.

JEWISH SPOKESMANSHIP HIS is, I submit, a valid criticism to which we are exposed. We have suddenly become a community of experts in constitutional law. We have put our faith much more in the courts than we have in our reli-

gious traditions.* I subscribe as well, therefore, to the following passage from an address by a prominent Catholic layman to which reference has been made earlier:

and the entire Jewish community in the confrontation with the non-Jew ish community.

f | ^HIS does, I fully realize, present JL a point of departure from usual orthodox policy in this country. Some orthodox figures, steeped in the A ustritts tradition of Frankfurt Jewry, have already declared against this so cio-political confrontation. But it is called for, I believe, both by thé times in which we live as well as by the great Torah tradition to which we are totally committed. Of course, it should not be thought that “dialogue,” in the social and political sense, necessarily means an exchanging of challenges or demands. The illustrations I have chosen are of this nature simply because they It is true that the dividing line are examples of some of the great between what we have called theo problems that confront us, and which logical dialogue and socio-cultural dia demand treatment in good will and logue is sometimes ill-defined and honesty. But there are many other quite vague. It is precisely for this rea areas in which religious communi son that I would encourage knowl ties can meaningfully cooperate, to edgeable Jewish leaders, steeped in their mutual benefit, within the con Jewish life and learning, to be the text of American cultural pluralism. In order, therefore, both to re moving spirits in the socio-cultural dialogue. Too many of the unin strain our fellow Jews from the peril formed and under-committed have ous theological dialogue in which heretofore presumed to speak on some of them are engaged and to en behalf of Jews and Jewry. If we courage an open -and frank socio orthodox Jews are going to live with cultural dialogue with the non-Jew in history, if we are going to parti ish communities, orthodox Jewish cipate fully in the fate and destiny of leaders must become active as never the United States, and at the same before in general and in Jewish com time protect our most vital interest munal life. by refusing to engage in a fruitless We must no longer by default leave and meaningless and dangerous the the area of inter-group relations to ological dialogue, then it must be our those least committed to Torah and best leaders who will represent us the Jewish tradition. One cannot blame you for con stantly glancing over your shoulder at history and the terrors it has held for you. . . . And no citizen, with a regard to his own rights, should ever suggest that you do not have the right to resort to the courts. But too many free books, too many brotherhood placques, and too many litigations aimed not at broad pro tection but at the scintilla of offense, the improbable potential of disturb ance, the full dotting of the partial ly dotted “i” of the law, will only operate to diminish good will and to destroy opportunity. Protection ism and perfectionism are often very different things. (“Encounter,” p. 16).

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IMMANUEL JAKOBOVITS

Com m ent HE three excellent contributions to this stimulating Symposium, though dealing with three quite dis tinct areas, were linked by one com mon denominator which I consider of surpassing significance. The pres entations illuminated the newly won place of the orthodox Jewish com munity in, respectively, the fields of Jewish identity, of Jewish education, and of Jewish-Christian relations. They demonstrated impressively that Orthodoxy in America has at last come of age, that it is no longer the underprivileged “minor” of American Jewry. For the first time in American Jewish history, the orthodox commu nity is now in possession of keys to areas hitherto inaccessibly locked to observant Jews. In the past the major key-positions of national leadership and the principal trends in the com munity had been almost exclusively under the control of secularists and non-traditional elements. Orthodox Jews contributed little to characteriz ing the identity and image of the American Jew, not much more to influencing the overall direction of Jewish education, and next to noth ing to inter-faith relationships. All this is now beginning to change quite radically. This change is in spectacular con trast with the situation of former

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times, when laughter and sneers would greet any suggêstion that the religious folks who immigrated to this country would one day produce a new young generation in their im age, that Orthodoxy would strike root in the free soil of America. “Or thodoxy in Judaism is something like snakes in Ireland [they were banished by St. Patrick, according to legend],” proclaimed a Reform journal forty years ago (CCAR Year Book, 1924, p. 238). Even orthodox Jews them selves sometimes laughêd in disbelief and resignation at thé prospect of Torah Judaism ever prospering in this “treiphene medinèh.” and yet the miracle has happened, as the fore going presentations havtè so eloquent ly attested. A new generation of ded icated Jews was born to become heirs to our sacred traditions and to as* sume positions of leadership. The tables are turned on dur detractors and scoffers. N fact, I believe each of the pres entations left one crucial part un said. Rabbi Pelcovitz dealt with the now notorious “Vanishing American Jew.” He showed how in this vast disintegrating and indifferent mass of American Jewry only the orthodox Jew retained his true Jewish iden tity. But I think even ftiore striking is the complete reversal of positions

that has occurred. Orthodox Jews— not so long ago the “vanishing tribe” in America;—are now the only seg ment of the American Jewish com munity not to vanish. While it is es timated that American Jews in gen eral will decrease thqir proportion among the population from the pres ent 2.9% to l.b% by the turn of the century through the abnormally low birth-rate and the high rate of defection—by intermarriage and as similation— of the non-orthodox, or thodox Jews are now gaining at both ends— enjoying an appreciably high er birth-rate and a far smaller num ber of casualties by losses of Jewish identity. As a result, the orthodox net gain, I surmise, may be as much as four or five times greater than among the non-orthodqx. Indeed, if the present demographic indications are maintained, there may well be orthodox Jews only left in America in fifty years’ time, and a high pro portion of these may be Chasidim! Rabbi Teitz rightly emphasized the extraordinary strides recently made by the burgeoning Yeshivah move ment and its indispensable contribu tion to the creation of a stable Torah community. With 60,000 children fiow attending Jewish day schools and yeshivoth, traditional Judaism will enjoy an altogether new image and security in America. But again, the most far-reaching consequences of this epoch-making development, in terms of Orthodoxy’s place within the Jewish community at large, are particularly noteworthy. In the light of the progressing weakening of com mitment to the Jewish community among the non-orthodox and the con stant intensification, qualitatively and quantitatively, of those dedicated to serving Jewish ideals in the orthodox

ranks, the reins of leadership-on the national, communal, social, and any other level—are bound eventually to pass into orthodox hands, provided the yeshivoth will adjust their outlook to these unprecedented opportunities and consciously train and encourage their charges in this direction. The Torah community must become aware of its own strength and give up its defensive insularity, for its claim to strategic positions in the wider community will soon be un contested through the default of any competitors sufficiently consecrated and committed to assume the bur dens of communal responsibility. OWEVER, the promotion of H this objective, now potentially quite feasible, will also require a mas sive organizational and financial ef fort. The stabilization and continued growth of the day* school movement is at present impeded only by lack of funds. If major new material re sources became available, the enroll ment could easily be doubled or trebled within a few years, with a corresponding rise in academic standards by attracting the most com petent faculties. True, the religious community already pours enormous sums into its school network—sums which would have been beyond its wildest dreams only a decade or two ago. In New York City alone, ortho dox Jews now raise well over $20,000,000 annually to pay for the day schools—an amount exceeding the total budget of New York’s Federa tion of Jewish Philanthropies with its 116 agencies, itself by far the most colossal charitable enterprise of any Jewish community in history. But this sum comes from relatively only a handful of public-spirited philanJ E W IS H LIFE

thropists, plain idealists, and parents, cance of this novelty lies not merely and it represents less than half of in the extension of orthodox Jewish what is needed to supply an adequate interest and activity to a new and im number and quality of schools. portant area affecting Jewish life. It There is only one way open at this lies, rather, in the success with which time to solve this strangling problem: this intervention has been crowned a bold decision by all orthodox syna and in the resultant impact of ortho gogues to include an “education levy” dox opinion on the Jewish community in all membership dues. This will, in at large. For, what is truly remark cidentally, also insure that members able is that in the public Jewish re belong not only to a synagogue but action to the overtures from Rome to a community, discharging their it was, despite many arguments and communal responsibilities no less than conflicting views, the position of their congregational duties. After all, Orthodoxy which finally prevailed in why should such membership simply principle, serving as the basis for a provide for the salaries of rabbis and joint statement by all major national of such officials as cantors and sextons American Jewish organizations. This and not equally supply the needs of orthodox triumph surely represents teachers — communal officials of at a quite unusual record on the Amer lease comparable importance. ican scene. It is impracticable to expect such a program to be initiated by individu T is now up to religious Jewry to al synagogues on their own. This is reassert its rightful place of lead a task the Orthodox Union must set ership in guiding the destinies of our itself as a high priority in a supreme people. On the shambles of two gen effort to consolidate and expand the erations of religious decline and in gains already won by orthodox Jew difference there is now ample room ry, for such an education tax may to rebuild a viable community struc prove the vital first step towards end ture of immense proportions and ing the wasteful fragmentation of the strength. We command the spiritual, Torah Community. human, and even financial resources Finally, Rabbi Lamm pointed up to sustain such an endeavor. What — and welcomed—the recent emer we now require is the organizational gence of orthodox Jewry’s views in talent, the will to sink our differences the arena of inter-faith relations, a in a united effort, and the vision to department of communal concern see the overall goals of Jewish exist previously surrendered completely to ence in the light of our unparalleled non-orthodox spokesmen. But here opportunities and inescapable obliga once more, I think, the real signifi tions.

Novèmber-December, 1964

Epilogue from A ssaf Street By SYLVIA L. HORWITZ

Among themselves they always spoke

EFORE the Eichmann trial began B it had seldom occurred to me to Hebrew, but their British-accented wonder who, among the scores of English was without exception fluent,

people we knew in Israel, was a sur and most of them were equally at vivor of the concentration camps. No home in French and German. I soon noticed, ps the trial prog body ever talked about such things. But from the moment the trial started, ressed, that they became more and I could hardly greet any friend or more reluctant to speak other lan acquaintance without speculating about guages, even with us. They really pre ferred Hebrew. The children, of course his past. I was fairly certain that few among — all of them native-born Israelis— our immediate neighbors had been in had always spoken Hebrew exclusive the camps. Surely I would have known. ly, and continually laughed, as chil My husband and I had been living on dren will, at my faltering efforts to Assaf Street for about three years by speak their language. Now their par then, in what is considered the “old” ents, too (unconsciously, perhaps) part of Tel Aviv. Assaf is a short, seemed to draw the tongue of the land dead-end street, pretty, tree-lined, with around them as a cloak of identity only twenty families in all living on against the indignities of the past. it, each in a small semi-attached, twoROM the moment the trial opened story house fronted by a tiny lawn. until it ended, months later, the Except for ourselves and one other American family, I thought of most proceedings were broadcast in full de of my neighbors, before the trial, as tail over Kol Yisrael. Day after day “old-timers” in Israel, intellectuals, the radio spewed out the horrors, in professional people. One was a judge, homes, on the streets, in the super another a highrranking officer in the market, at the gas station, in hospitals, Police Department. We were flanked on buses. Relentlessly, the slime was by a doctor and an engineer. Across dredged up. Deeper and deeper the the street lived an architect. They were courtroom excavated; the past was good neighbors, hospitable as all Is turned over, the skeletons brought to raelis are, warm and friendly and the surface. It was as though sociolo eager to have us participate in neigh gists had borrowed the techniques of archaeology to lay bare the mind of borhood activities.

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We all called him Professor, al primitive man. Their findings were an intolerable reminder of a past not dis though we knew he hated titles, be tant, but only yesterday. cause he was a professor and looked I suppose I had sensed, even before like one, but mostly out of sheer af the trial, that Rachel had been in a fection. Josef taught in the humanities concentration camp. She lived next department of Tel Aviv University* door to us and we were friendly He was a handsome, gentle, cultivated enough, but we had never talked about man who spoke eight or nine lan her life before Israel, nor did she have guages, and was always impeccably a number tattooed on her forearm. dressed (he wore a tie and jacket even (She told me later that she had had it during an Israeli August). He had a removed by plastic surgery, as many warm word for everyone and was wise have done.) Rachel was a very tense, and considerate. He helped the chil nervous woman, restless, with a sud dren with their homework. He lent den, explosive, I thought even raucous, us all books from his enormous lib laugh; an ambitious woman, proud of rary. His record collection was one her doctor husband and three blonde of the finest in the country. Of a warm Sabra children; a pitifully vulnerable summer’s evening we would gather in woman. With every word broadcast his garden for hours of good conversa from the courtroom in Jerusalem she tion, ranging the world over, spiked became visibly more high-strung, yet with humorous jabs and philosophic she listened obsessively and carried a lunges. Josef, a survivor of Dachau? transistor-radio with her wherever she went. I would be talking to her in the A SSAF STREET was curiously garden, or run into her in the super ± \ . quiet on the day when Josef market, or meet her at the bus-stop, testified in court. None of the children and she would suddenly switch on the came out to play. The younger ones, radio, saying. “Do you mind? I just of course, the toddlers, knew nothing1 want to get the latest news.” She would of what was going on in Jerusalem, listen for a few minutes, intent and although Rachel’s three, I am certain, far-away, then turn it off with an must have suffered indirectly from apologetic, “Well, it’s still going on.” their mother’s quivering nerves. But It was through Rachel that I first the older ones, (most of the young learned that bne of our neighbors was sters on our street ranged from twelve scheduled to testify at the Eichmann to Army age, eighteen), had from the trial on the following day. very beginning followed the trial with intense, even morbid interest. After I T the end of every broadcast from their first naive but understandable A the courtroom, and in all of the reaction (“Where was the Israeli Army newspapers, an announcement was in all this?”), they fell more and more made each day of the following day’s silent. I was never really sure how witnesses. I would have seen it in the they felt. The only one I could con English-language daily, and it would verse with on a half-way adult level have come as no less a shock, but was Dani, the son of the architect when Rachel almost screamed the who lived directly across the street news as we stood waiting for the bus, from us. Dani was seventeen, just one year away from his Army service, and I felt suddenly ill. Physically ill.

Noverhber-December, 1964

ing to myself, as we waited for the conductor to appear, just how many of these civilized people had been be hind barbed wire not so many years ago. I remember the celebration of a twenty-fifth w e d d i n g anniversary, where, as we raised our glasses to toast the couple, one of the guests burst into tears. The air seemed heavy with guilt—guilt for just being alive* Everybody shared the guilt and there was enough to go around. Those of us who hadn’t been in the camps writhed inwardly in empathetic shame and suffering. Those who had survived were forced to relive daily the inhuma nities. This time no one escaped, for the evils were not perpetrated behind barbed wire in a conspiracy of silence, but were broadcast unadorned to a whole country, and such is the fascina tion of evil that no one could escape its telling.. Rachel’s were not the only nerves visibly frayed. Taxi-drivers became more and more curt, the milkman forgot his cheery “Shalom” as he made his rounds, and even the children ap peared to quarrel more often among OR a few days after Josef’s return themselves, and to play violent games. Only Josef seemed unchanged. One from Jerusalem all of us on Assaf evening I was out watering the lawn Street, or so. it seemed to me, were a little embarassed, ill at ease, the way when he happened to pass by on his one is sometimes when visiting a very Way home from the; University. He sick person in the hospital. We m ade: stopped to greet me and then said, small talk when we met one another “How about dropping over tonight for:; and tried consciously to avoid speak a cup of coffee? Hannah baked a ing of the trial But it was not possible, beautiful coffee cake today and we during those agonizing months in ought to finish it up while it’s stilt Israel, to* stay away for very long from fresh. Just give us time to get the kids the subject of Eichmann and the hor in bed. About eight-thirty?” rors. No matter where one went, for whatever purpose, either one’s con Y fT H E N we arrived we found sev▼V eral of our other neighbors al versation or one’s thoughts would sooner or later end up in the court ready there. To my surprise, Josef was room. I remember going to a concert not wearing a jacket; it was the first jn the Mann Auditorium and wonder time in three years I had ever seen

because he was older than the Qthers he was more tolerant of my Hebrew. He also had the best command of English (a compulsory second lan guage in most Israeli schools), so that with a smattering of both languages, we managed to communicate on sub jects other than the weather. I didn’t see Dani until several days after Josef had returned from Jeru salem. Then I met him by chance as he was returning from school and walked the rest of the way home with him. He was very sober, troubled, withdrawn, and I guessed it was be cause of the Professor. It seemed best to tackle the question head-on. “You’re upset about Josef, aren’t you, Dani?” ;“ ‘Upset’ is hardly the word. I’m so furious I’d like to kill someone! Can you tell me how such things could have happened to a man like Josef? I simply don’t understand, I tell you. I don’t understand.” There was no way I could help him to understand. We walked on together in silence.

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him without one. His shirtsleeves were rolled up because it was hot, and there, on his left forearm, was the tattooed number. He was busy pour ing out cold drinks and I could hear Hannah upstairs trying to quiet their youngest, who had evidently been awakened by the doorbell. There was quiet talk going on—about the un seasonably hot weather, next week’s soccer match, the latest world crisis. It was Josef himself who brought up the subject of the trial. He was speaking to Rachel, but the rest of us couldn’t help overhearing their con versation and gradually, one by one, we stopped talking and listened. V ‘No, Rachel,’’ Josef was saying, “I don’t agree with you. I think that in the long run we will all feel the trial was a good thing. I know it’s painful now to reopen the old wounds, but maybe exposing them once and for all will help us to develop scar tissues.” “I hope you’re right, Josef.” Rachel was shaking her head slowly from side to side. “All I know is that right now I have nightmares every night. One reason I scream at Leo and the chil dren is that I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in months. If only they’d stop! It goes on and on and on . . . I sometimes think that if it goes on much longer I’ll end up in the psy chiatric ward.” “Rachel, darling, please—” “No, Leo, let me talk. If Josef thinks it’s such a good thing to talk about it, then I will. Do you want to know how crazy this trial is making me? Yesterday a man came to the door selling linen doilies. Some of you must have seen him, he went from house to house; the poor fellow was probab ly a refugee himself. But he suddenly reminded me of the brute who was in charge of our barracks, don’t ask me

November-December, 1964

why . . . maybe it was because he was the same build, or his hair was the same color, or because he was wearing an old army jacket. All I know is, I screamed my head off, slammed the door in his face, and ran upstairs to hide. Poor little Aviva was so frightened, she ran into the street crying. I’m sure you heard her. How could I explain it to her? How could I explain it to anyone? Half the time I don’t know whether I’m on Assaf Street or back in Buchenwald.” She was getting more and more worked up. Josef broke in, with his quiet voice, saying, “Rachel, my dear, I can only tell you what I tell myself. If I could survive a concentration camp, I can survive this, too. And I’m honestly convinced that it is im portant for the whole world to know what happened, horrible though the facts are.” “Here I am the one to disagree with you, Josef,” said Dani’s father, David. “I’m not at all sure it’s a good thing, especially for the youngsters, to be told that maybe the Jews didn’t fight back enough, that they could have done more in their own selfdefense.” “All I can say to that,” answered Josef, “is that once again only the facts, the truth, the whole terrible truth about the monstrous machine, will answer such questions. I know you’re referring to Dani, because he asked me about it, too. And I’ll tell you exactly what I told him, that I can’t believe that any decent person in all this world will try to pass judg ment on the victims. If the victims were guilty of anything, then it was simply that they had too much faith in human beings. None of us could believe that any man could do such things to any other man. And such

faith is not a crime. It may be naive, but it’s nothing to feel guilt about. I, for one, could not continue to live without it.” ‘‘Josef!” Rachel shouted. “Are you trying to tell me that you still believe in people, after all that happened to you? Are you? Because if you are, then you’re not only naive, you’re just plain stupid!” We all gasped. No one, surely, had ever called the Professor stupid, not in anger, not even in hysteria. For tunately, at that moment Hannah came downstairs and after greeting us all, asked who wanted coffee and who wanted tea. Some of us women went into the kitchen to help her and the conversation turned to other subjects. But not for long. The past intruded insidiously upon the present and soon Rachel was at it again. “Forgive me, Josef, I didn’t mean to call you stupid. It’s just that I’m ter ribly upset these days. Half the time I don’t know what I’ni saying.” “Don’t worry about it, Rachel. You know I understand. Look, I think it’s remarkable that all of us are as normal

as we are. Ask any psychiatrist what he would expect of people who un derwent such experiences and he’d probably tell you they would be emo tional cripples for life. But are we? Not in the least! Oh, a bit more volatile than some people, perhaps, a little more excitable . . . but we’re running a country, raising families, growing food, building factories . . “Which reminds me,” Leo inter rupted, “tomorrow’s another day. Do you good people realize what time it is?” T was very late, indeed, way past midnight. We had been at it, off and on, since eight-thirty. That’s the way it was in Israel, during the Eichmann trial. No matter where you were, what you were doing, what you had started out to do, you ended up in the courtroom. Millions of words were spoken, not too different, I suppose, from the millions of words being said by other people in other countries. But it was different, there, where words turned into echoes and echoes into images, nightmares, ghosts.

J E W IS H LIFE

The Italian Jewish Community of Today and Its Rich Past By JACOB BELLER

H T H E Via Victoria in Rome, the . . . The words greet you and extend JL promenade of the Italian capital, their message with a smile. with its magnificent buildings and gal leries, its old-new monuments with A ND here I am with a group of their mingling of architectural styles ■¿a- tourists from Israel, America, —these are the main attractions for South Africa, and far-off Australia. the tourist in the Eternal City. The We are all standing in front of the whiteness of the massive buildings, Arch of Triumph of Titus which tells with their domes mirroring themselves about his great victory for the Ro in the sun, catch the eye of the mans over the Jewish nation two thou stranger. Here in the summer months sand years ago. I read the inscription: you meet people from all corners of From the Senate and the People of the earth; a dozen languages greet Rome to the Emperor Titus who fol your ear and among them the hearty lowed the order of his father Ves Yiddish-English or English-Yiddish pasian, and defeated the Jewish peo tones of Brooklyn, Chicago, and the ple and the city of Jerusalem. Carved Bronx. You can scarcely find a place images depict the captive march of at a cafe-table and it is difficult to the vanquished Jews: the goddess of push your way through the mobs of Victory putting a crown on Titus’ tourists besieging the tastefully laid head, another deity holding the reins out windows of the shops and ba of the horses who pull the chariot. zaars which tempt the appetite of the After them follow the Jewish cap tourists with their dazzling bargains. tives bearing the ritual objects of their There is, however, a class of tour destroyed Temple: the golden table, ists who are not tempted by the ba the menorah, the trumpets, and the zaars nor by the artistically designed harps. The viewer is saddened but restaurants. These are for the most immediately comforted—Jerusalem part Jewish tourists, among whom lives again, but nothing remains of you now find a substantial number ancient Rome but fallen ruins. Only of Israelis. The experienced guides, through the glasses of its present ruins who assess each visitor wtih a sharp can you see the grandeur of the city eye, know how to approach every which once destroyed Jerusalem. type of visitor. They know a few He Now I am at the Colosseum. Here brew or even Yiddish words: Titus Jewish slaves once wrestled in the Square? . . . Ghetto?^. . . Synagogue? arena with the lions, and thousands

November-December, 1964

synagogue, the Temple Israelita, and remarkably enough—directly across from the synagogue is a church with an inscription from the Christian New Testament, in Hebrew, reading as follows: “I have stretched out my hand against a rebellious people who go in an evil way, a people who anger me.” Apparently the missionaries had spread their net immediately opposite the most widely visited synagogue in Rome, hoping to trap some souls this way. On a wall in the synagogue is a memorial tablet to the 2,000 Jews of Rome killed by the Nazis. Two thou sand Italian Jews were assembled on the Piazza Patricia Ostava, on the 16th of October, twenty years ago, and were led to the gas chambers. Every year a memorial service is held in memory of these martyrs. Last year’s ceremony was attended by the Italian Minister of War, vari ous high-ranking government officials, Members of Parliament, and repre sentatives of the army. The president of the Association of Jewish Com munities of Italy, Judge Sergio Piperno, pointed out that more than 2,000 Jews fought with the Italian partisans against the Nazis, and among these were seven winners of gold medal awards. Among these, in turn* was a 13-year old boy, Franco Cosano, who was given the rank of IT H .a feeling of pride and ex- captain. Of the more than 8,000 | altation I approached the old Jews slain by the Nazis 1,400 were Jewish quarter in Rome known to children. The synagogue contains replicas of this day as the Ghetto. The closer I came to the Ghetto on the banks of the ritual objects of the ancient syn the Tiber, the clearer and more agogue recently unearthed in Ostia, striking was the sharp contrast be the port of ancient Rome. Archeolo tween it and the spacious avenues gists state that the Ostia synagogue was erected more than 2,000 years and boulevards of the central city. At the entrance of the Ghetto is a ago and that it served a Jewish com-

of bloodthirsty Romans shouted with joy when the lions tore the Jewish captives to shreds and their blood ran freely. . . . No\v you see the ruined remains of the arena and the cages of the animals which look like huge skeletons. And here are the gal leries of the amphitheatre erected by Vespasian, and you are suddenly seized with a feeling of pride—they may have tortured the Jewish body but the Jewish spirit was unconquer able. This is our history: “b’chol dor v’dor—in each generation someone arises to destroy us but the Holy One Blessed be He, saves us from their hands.” And we arise restored from the ruins, stronger than before. The historian Grego Ravins sym bolized Jerusalem’s victory over Rome this way: “The Jewish community in Rome,” he writes, “can be considered as a symbol of that Judaism from whence Christianity sprang. The com munity of Jews in Rome remained intact and unassimilated for scores of generations. It survived the ancient Empire of Rome, its conquerors, the destruction of the Caesars and Em perors, right to the time of the Pa pacy. The entire cult and culture of ancient. Rome was erased and van ished with the dust, but the Jews re mained with their spirit, serving their G-d of old.”

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munity that was in existence before ternal appearance of the synagogue the fall of Jerusalem. Its main sanc makes an imposing impression with tuary was built to face Jerusalem. its massive candelabra, its artfully There are plaster casts of the shofor, carved holy ark, and its massive cen menorah, lulov, and ethrog. The pxy tral bimah.

THE C O M M U N A L PATTERN F the more than 70,000 Jews of and Egypt and quite a number from O pre-World War II Italy over eastern Europe. Many of these are 10,000 were destroyed by the Nazis; from Galicia—in the days when it 20,000 emigrated to Israel, the United States, Canada, and the Latin Amer ican countries. Of the 30,000 who remained, 15,000 are today in the capital city, about 7,000 in Milan, about 2,000 in Venice and Trieste; the balance are scattered in small centers throughout the peninsula. The Jews are organized in an as sociation of communities with which all the Kehilloth are affiliated. This organization has a publication called Israel, edited by Carlo Vitorbi. The Milan community has its own organ in the form of a community bulletin. The Chief Rabbi of the country is Rabbi Elias Toaff, a distinguished Talmudic scholar. His father, who died recently, had served for many years as Rabbi of Livorno. A brother is a. doctor at the Hadassah hospital in Jerusalem. Rabbi Toaff was .in the shadow of death when the Nazis seized him among several hundred Jews in Livorno (Leghorn), carried them to the outskirts and ordered them..to dig their* own graves. At the last minute the commandant, a Vien na professor, took pity on a fellowscholar and bade him return home. The Ghetto of Rome resembles in atmosphere the former Jewish quar ters of the East European countries. Many languages are spoken: there are Jewish refugees from Morocco

November-December, 1964

was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, they moved to Trieste and from there to Rome. With their mo bility and emotional stir they have stimulated and re-activized Italian Jewry, which had become somewhat static and congealed. They have felt most familiar in the Jewish district; in its kosher restaurant are served Wiener schnitzel, gefillte fish, and knishes. Jewry, as it was until the Ito TALIAN last war, bore many similarities German Jewry. We mean, of course, the long-settled “aristocracy” who composed the largest sector. Jews in Italy occupied and still oc cupy an important position in its com merce and finance, and also in its in tellectual circles—no smaller, propor tional to its size, than that of the. Jews in pre-Hitler Germany. They share the same mentality in their at titude to world Jewry as had charac terized the parallel element of Ger man Jews...Just as the. latter termed themselves ..Germans of the Mosaic persuasion, so the Italian Ebreo calls himself an Italian of the Jewish faith. It is a fact that the Jews of Italy occupied high government posts un der the Fascist regime of Mussolini. There was a Jewish Finance Minister named Judah Guido who was dropped

from his post after Hitler and Musso lini signed their friendship pact. For many years the mayor of Rome was a Jew named Paul Nathan. There were other senior functionaries and there were even Jewish officers in the army in the early years of Fas cism. In the place of the high-sounding titles that the Jews of Germany used to appropriate in the days of the Im perial regime, such as Justizrat, Hofs rat, Kommerzienrat, Kaiserlicher Hofliferant—Herr Professor and Herr Doctor were quite common in con trast—the Italian Jews are satisfied with the titles of Doctor and Profes sor. However, these are more than mere honorifics but are applied to ac tual practitioners in many cases. All rabbis are called Professor, but each of them generally does hold a univer sity post and is a man of advanced academic education. Antisemitism is hardly noticeable in Italy. From time to time there is a minor demonstration of the die hard Fascists but this is quickly sup pressed by the government and con demned by the Italian press. Just a little while ago when a few Fascist hooligans smeared a synagogue with swastikas they were sentenced to ten months imprisonment, the judge spe

cifically mentioning that the offense was “insulting Judaism’^ (insulting a religion is an offense in Italian law but this was the first case in which it was applied to Judaism). The influx of refugees into Rome and Milan has created a problem for the community. The synagogues are too small for the numbers of new comers, and the Kehillah is now building a new synagogue to accom modate them. With the advent of the newcomers old vocations, such as leather work, have been revived. On the streets near the synagogues are sold mezuzoth, prayer-books, Yortzeit lamps from Israel, and skull-caps. The peddlers of these Jewish goods do a brisk sale at times. Jews in Italy are represented in all parties, and their status in this respect is comparable to that of the Jews in the U.S.Á. This does not refer to Jew ish political influence but to the ab sence of a Jewish voting bloc. There are Jewish deputies to the Italian Parliament sitting for each of the various parties, more noticeably per haps for the Socialist and even Com munist parties than the others. This is traceable to the fact that both these parties were consistent oppo nents of the Fascists and are strong in the capital city.

MILAN, FLORENCE, VENICE ILAN, which has the second consists of about 8,000 Jews and is largest Jewish community in accounted one of the country’s rich M Italy, is today the heart of thé coun est communities. The community of try’s industry. The present Pope, Paul VI, was the Cardinal-Bishop of Milan until his elevation to the Pa pacy, and at the time of Hitler’s in vasion saved many Jews from a certain death. The Milan community

fice, which is located in the syna gogue on Via Guastalia, was bombdamaged in the war and later was restored with government aid. Today there is a well-organized community which has established a handsome J E W IS H LIFE

school with an enrollment of 900 children, extending from kindergarten to high school, and even with a bus service on the North American style for those children living far away. In Milan, too, Jews can be met from a dozen lands—Syria, Egypt, Moroc co, Persia, and again—Galicia. Milan, which is an hour away from the port of Genoa, played an important role in the post-Hitler period in the rescue of thousands of surviving Jews from the camps who took the illegal route to Mandated Palestine via Italy. There were two large transit camps there—Via Uniona, to which the B’rechah, movement daily brought refugees from various camps and con centrated them for the illegal immi gration. Both the Italian government and people received the refugees very hospitably and provided them with whatever they needed. In the black of night ships full of illegal olim would steal out of the Italian ports under the very eyes of the law-enforcement officers. The ships would be loaded not only with illegal immigrants but with illegal baggage which the law-officers would also overlook. It was on one of these dark nights in 1947, a year before the Jewish State was proclaimed, that the writer of these lines stood in a pouring rain in the port of Genoa seeing how scores of young people with odd bundles on their shoulders crept to the port and on to the ship moments before it left the harbor. Quite suddenly, on a secret order, a blue and white flag was unfurled and the courageous, exalted faces of the youths who stood lined up in military rows lit up as they sang out the Hatikvah. The Italian immigration officials stood at the port and saluted

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those on the boat as they sang. Italy’s third kehillah, today, is Flor ence, the mecca of artists and artlovers the world over. The city is full of historic monuments, palaces, museums, and temples of art. Its Jewish community once consisted of 4,000 persons; now only 1,500 re main. Florence has the most beauti ful synagogue in Europe, planned by famous architects and in an eye catching Moorish style. Its massive lamps were brought from Spain in the fifteenth century. Still plainly visible on the oron hakodesh is the mark made by a German bayonet; the Nazis used the synagogue as a garage for trucks, and when they had to de part they laid dynamite to blow it up. The government later assisted in the restoration of the building. In the courtyard is a tablet listing the names of three hundred Jews of the city who were shot on that spot by the Germans. The community con ducts a Jewish school for more than sixty children, a home for the aged, and other communal institutions. "17ENICE, Italy’s most beautiful ▼city, has been called an earthly paradise. This city, whose praises have been so often sung by poets of all countries, is surely the most romantic city not merely of Italy but of the world. The city is composed of hun dreds of islands and gliding on a gondola, you cut through the canals to reach the various parts of the city. It did not take long to enquire for the city’s Ghetto. It is across a canal linked by a bridge, not far from the main railway station. The community secretary, whose office is in one of the city’s four synagogues, gave me some details on the community. The

number of Jews is not large. The four synagogues are a heritage of the city’s rich and varied past which goes back 2,Q00 years. Not far from this synagogue is a second one, used as a museum, which tells of Venice’s Jewish history. The road to it leads through narrow little streets threading their way, one into another, over bridges and through canals to the Museo Ebreo. The sex ton led me through the hall which was filled with historic treasures. At the head of the collection is a Torah scroll wrapped in a cloth cover with rare embroideries and hung with or nately carved silver Torah crowns. Here are wedding canopies which Jews used to use, not ordinary chuppoth, but bearing fascinating decora tive designs. Also displayed are a collection of besomim boxes of the fourth century, each one more inter esting than the other; old Torah-curtains brocaded with gold and silver; mizrach wall of the sixth century; a collection of Haggodahs with illus trations picturing each chapter of the Exodus from Egypt. And in addition to all this, a series of valuable manu scripts, some written on parchment in Greek, Hebrew, Spanish, and Ital ian, and also printed books of cen turies ago in glass cases. Venice is one of Italy’s oldest Jewish centers. Many renowned Tal mud scholars lived there, and a noted yeshivah was established there in the 16th century-the golden age of Ital ian Jewry. Among the prominent rab bis associated with this was Simchah Luzzatto, a noted Talmudist and a scholar in secular knowledge as well. He was the author of numerous books in Hebrew and Italian and was a member of the Italian Academy. In

the fItalian scientific and scholarly world he was known as Simone. Today in Venice there remain, in addition to the Templo Italiano, which I visited, four other houses of wor ship: the Spanish Synagogue (Tem plo Espagnolo), the Canton Syna gogue (Schola Canton), the German Synagogue (Templo Grande Tedesca) —this was where Moses Simchah Luzzatti used to pray—and the Levantic Synagogue (Templo Levantino). These are reminders of a once thriving community; now they barely manage to gather a minyon through out the week though they are fairly well visited on the Sabbath. One of the most remarkable sights in Venice is the “Shylock House.” The guide assures you that this is the actual house where Shylock, the mon ey-lender of Shakespeare’s “Merchant of Venice,*’ lived. With his gondola the guide will lead you by imposing villas and houses perched on hills. He stops at an old-fashioned house and announces, “this is the house where Shylock lived.” We step out of the gondola and, strangely enough, it is occupied by an Egyptian Jew who carries on the same trade as Shylock! He deals in coins, pearls, and various kinds of silver work, and even loans money on interest. His name is Nissim Bazzini and he assures you that his house used to be that of the Shy lock who was so harshly immortal ized by William Shakespeare. How ever, the Jews of Venice say other wise. They argue that there is a wellestablished opinion among them, passed down through the generations, that Shylock as an historic person never existed, and that what is in volved here is a story by an Italian J E W IS H LIFE

writer who told of a true situation between two Italians but, not wishing to paint a fellow-countryman in such

colors, he attributed it to a Jew, and it is from this tale that Shakespeare borrowed his plot.

IN HISTORICAL PERSPECTIVE HE Jewish community of Italy is Lucca, Abraham Hakalir, Shabbethai T one of the world’s oldest outside ben Avraham, Rabbenu Isaiah di of Israel, going back two hundred Liranni and his similarly named years before the Christian era to the time of the Second Temple. A story has it that Yehudah Maccabee sent emissaries to Rome to gain allies against his enemy Antiochus, and these emissaries already found Jews there leading their own Jewish life. The synagogue recently excavated in Ostia near Rome has verified this. When Saul of Tarshish (St. Paul) came to Italy in the year 63 C.E. to preach the gospel of Christianity, he found a Jewish community there. When Titus brought his Jewish cap tives to Rome some of them managed to free themselves and became part of the now expanded community. According to the historian Cecil Roth, the Jews of Palestine, in the years 95-96 C.E., sent envoys to Rome among whom were Rabbi Gamliel II, Rabbi Akiba, and Rabbi Josiah ben Eliezer, to try to persuade the Romans to lighten the restrictions on the Jews. Some time afterwards Rabbi Mattathias ben Harash was sent to Rome to help organize its Jewish life. Monuments and tomb stones in various sections of Italy show that by the third century the Jews were well-established. A whole series of yeshivoth and Talmud scholars thrived in Italy, and there were scholars and savants known the world over. The golden age of Italy’s Jewry produced such names as Moses ben Kalonymos of

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grandson; Rabbi Zedekiah Abraham of Rome, Moses Ben Yekuthiel Ha-Romi, Rabbi Recanati, Rabbi Hillel ben Samuel, Rabbi Moses ben Shlomo of Salerno, and many others. Besides the yeshivah in Venice there were yeshi voth in Verona, Sifanto, and Bari. In those years the Bari yeshivah was so famous that there was a saying “the Torah will come from Bari and the word of G-d from Ascanto.” Whole generations of scholars and savants lived and enriched Jewish learning with their contributions. The name of Italian Jewry rang so well in the Jewish world that Ibn Ezra of Toledo came to spend some years in Italy. After the Spanish Inquisition many Spanish Jews found refuge there and served to increase the Italian Jewish yishuv. The Italian communities con tinued to flourish through the suc ceeding generations, but in modern times the new forces at play brought a steady decline. Finally, there came the war-time occupation of Italy by Nazi Germany and with it ruthless persecution of Italy’s Jews, thousands of whom were sent to the death camps. Today, Italian Jewry, a shadow of its one-time self, is slowly recovering from its wounds. With the influx of Jews from other lands bringing much needed strength, new promise can be seen for the future of this Jewry which has spanned the ages from early Ro man times to the present day.

4 /L a

The Fires of Chasidism By HARRY RABINOWICZ

r p H E greatest revivalist movement jL in the history of the Jewish peo ple was born in Eastern Europe in the eighteenth century. This was Ghasidism, the powerful force that focused on the sublimely simple tenets of Judaism that place stress upon joy, enthusiasm, and sincerity, qualities that the common people possessed in full measure. Thus mystically, almost miraculously, Chasidism brought comfort, courage, and a form of other-worldly ecstasy to the impover ished, persecuted, haunted Jews of Poland, the suffering step-children of humanity. Like drowning men, the Jews of Eastern Europe clutched at Chasid ism. From the Ukraine the movement spread across the border, and a high proportion of New Poland’s Jews “converted” to Chasidism. In a sub sequent era, when the lights of Jew ish life were extinguished in the Soviet Union, sparks began to fly and the flames began to burn with a new brilliance in the gnawing Polish gloom. Captain Peter Wright, a mem ber of Sir Samuel Stuart’s Mission in 1919, estimated that Chasidism com manded the allegiance of half the Jewish population of Poland. In a changing and challenging world they upheld traditional Judaism against the onslaught of secularism, assimilation

and Bundism. The futile feuds with their extreme opponents the Mithnagedim were forgotten and the Chofetz Chayim, that greatest Halachic lumi nary, conceded that the Chasidim were “a pillar of fire to Jewry.” URING the crucial inter-war D years the power of the Chasidim increased. This was a period of poli tical awakening. No longer confined to the Shtiebel, they began to exert their considerable influence on every phase of Jewish life. Almost every town, al most every village, had its own Chasidic Court. It is a fact that many a tiny far-flung Polish hamlet owes its immortality to the Chasidic Rebbe who lived there and adopted its name as his title. So it was with Belz, Ger, Alexander, Bobov, Biala, Novominsk, Ozarow, and countless others. Luminous personalities arose, men of vision and vitality who moulded and remade the lives of men. Many of the Tzadikim, as the Chasidic luminaries were called, maintained huge households, receiving and enter taining hundreds of visitors. For the role of the Tzadik was many-faceted. He was the advocate (Melitz Yosher) who pleaded for his followers before the august assembly of the Heavenly court: he was the Guter Yidy the friendly father-figure to whom his J E W IS H LIFE

children could pour out their hearts. sian Jewry, and their support was Whether they needed spiritual solicited for the Polish Government’s strengthening or gezunt un parnossa National Defence Loans. (“health and sustenance”), the RebContrary to popular misconception, be’s blessing and his assurance that women played a major role in Cha the “Almighty would help” fell like sidic life. Before the establishment of manna on the parched lips of the the Beth Jacob schools, many Chasi suffering Jews, sunk in the deep val dic daughters received a sound secular leys of despair. education. Ladies in the latest Paris The Chasidim lived in a world of models were often seen walking along their own. They were known by the side (or a few paces behind) husbands dress they wore, by the way they in eighteenth-century garb. Yet these spoke, by the melodies they hummed. Polish “duchesses,” fluent in Polish In the eyes of one Gentile observer and French, found a place in the they formed an “immense mass of Chasidic milieu. helpless poverty,” and this may well The Chasidic firmament was a com have been the case. But a faith im plex composed of many planets, each movable and immortal as the moun set in its appointed place, each re tains enabled them to inhabit simul volving around its own orbit, each taneously an inner and invisible world contributing to the brilliance that which was an indescribable foretaste floodlit the Jewish world. There were of the Golden Age to come. marked differences in outlook between the Rebbes of Kotzk (Kock), SochaA NEW breed of leaders emerged in czew, and Ger, yet all were united in the post-World War I period who fraternal fellowship. Prayer was a guided the Chasidic communities with common, or more accurately, uncom inspired efficiency. The power of the mon denominator. The Shtiebel or Rebbe was far-reaching and his en Claus was the heart of Chasidism. dorsement was thought to “guarantee” Literally a “room,” its very unpreten the success of any project. With the tiousness served to underline the vital exception of the followers of Belz principle that its protagonists preach and Alexander, most of the Chasidic ed. The Shtiebel was both a place of rabbis were associated with the Agu- worship and a house of study, a sec dath Israel movement and partic ond home for its frequentors and oc ipated in communal, municipal, and casionally their only home. parliamentary elections. But their Chasidic rebbeyim established Shtieprimary role was to preserve a Torah- blech in the various towns in which oriented tradition, and any breach of their followers resided. In Poland most this aroused violent antagonism. The towns had both a “Gerer Shtiebel” opening of a Jewish shop on Sabbath and an “Alexander Shtiebel.” In Lodz brought talith-wrapped Chasidim to there were thirty-five different Shtieblech catering for as many different voice vehement protest. Nor were Chasidic sects. Only in his own Shtie their interests confined to regional re bel did the Chosid feel really at home. ligious problems. The rabbis appeal At 5:00 A.M. on dark, cold winter ed for provisions of matzoth for Rus- mornings young men would already

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be clustered round the tables. Each man studied at his own pace and in his own style, finding comfort in com panionship and reward in the living pages of the Talmud. Life centered round the Sfytiebel. Here townsfolk, too, foregathered to celebrate a Simchah, to mburn a disaster and to take council/iogether. It was the mystique of Ch&sidism to

add a new dimension to the mundane, to sanctify the profane. A piece of bread broken in fellowship became a banquet. The Seudah Shelishith (the third Sabbath meal) was imbued with other-worldly meaning. Even a Yortzeit became an occasion for rejoic ing, since in Chasidic belief it mark ed the ascent of the soul to higher and still higher spheres.

REALMS OF THE REBBEYIM accept pidyonoth (donations) from his

ER, a townlet on/the Vistula, be G came the Jerusalem of one of followers lest he become dependent the greatest Chasichc dynasties of all on the gifts of flesh and blood. time. “The s p dscrariscth and the sun goeth down,7 s a ^ Koheleth, and this verse can beuippfiedto GciSRabbi Isaac Meir Rothenburg, the Chiddushey Arim, the founder of the Gerer dynasty, died on the 23rd Acaar, 5626. Two years before, on the/7th Teveth, 5624, was born AJzraham Mordecai Alter, virtual erpj$eror of Polish Chasidim from jthe very day Slmt he succeeded-^fiis father, the Tzefath-Em ethTon the 5th Shevat, 5665. “In Kotzk we have a soul but not a clock,” declared Rabbi Mendel (1783-1859). This spontaneous out pouring of the soul led many Chasi dim to ignore the appointed hours of prayer and to pray whenever and wherever the spirit moved them. The accession of Rabbi Abraham Mor decai marked a return to rigid ob servance of the Shulchon Oruch. Morning services at 7:30 A.M. be came the established pattern and stress was on Torah study. Friday evening and Sabbath morning be tween Shacharith and Musaph time were set aside for study. Like his an cestors, the Rebbe of Ger refused to

T IKE his grandfather, Abraham L l Mordecai Alter had a deep sense of communal responsibility. He par ticipated at the preparatory meeting at Hamburg in 1909 for the estab lishment of Agudath Israel, and he attended the three Agudist Confer ences of 1923, 1929, and 1937. In 1937 the Conference at Marienbad dis cussed the Report of the Peel Commis sion proposing the partition of the Holy Land into two sovereign inde pendent states, one Jewish, the other Arab, and a small area under British mandate covering historic and strate gic sites. The Gerer Rebbe quoted Joel IV :2: “I will gather all the na tions and I will bring them down into the valley of Jehoshopat; and I will enter unto judgment with them there. For My people and My inheritance Israel whom they have called among the nations and divided my land.” He supported the Beth Jacob schools movement and the Mesivta in War saw. Six times Abraham Mordecai visit ed the Holy Land. The fifth visit, in 1936, lasted for almost half a year, J E W IS H LIFE

and when he returned to Poland after Pesach, he already regarded himself as a resident of Eretz Israel and did not observe in the Holy Land Yomtov Sheni, the Second Day of the Festival in the Diaspora. A passionate lover of Zion, Abraham Mordecai wrote in a letter dated 7th Iyyar, 5681: “I am pleased to note that it is possible to conduct oneself in the Holy Land in the way of our fathers and forefathers. . . . It is possible here to observe Judaism without any hindrance.” Yet he discouraged his Chasidim from supporting the Jewish National Fund because Sabbath observance was lax on J.N.F. landholdings. “Having learned that it is reported that I have moved nearer to the position of the Mizrachi,” wrote this staunch Agudist, “I declare publicly that I have not changed my view in the least that this organization is a danger to Judaism and especially to Polish Jewry.” Sixty members of the family of the Rebbe of Ger perished in Nazi Eu rope. His son-in-law Isaac Meir Alter was shot before his very eyes. To gether with his son, Israel and his son-in-law Isaac Meir Lewin (Chair man of the Agudath Israel World Ex ecutive), the Gerer Rebbe left War saw in 1940, a few days before Italy entered the war, and escaped to Israel. He died on Shovuoth, 5708. Dr. Isaac Halevi Herzog, then Chief Rabbi of the Holy Land pronounced these words in fitting eulogy: “On Shovuoth the Torah was given, and on Shovu oth the Torah was taken away.” A LEKSANDROW, or Alexander as the Jews called it, a little town near Lodz, occupied a unique position in Chasidism for nearly a century. What Safed was to the Kabalists in

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the Holy Land, Alexander was to the Chasidim in Poland. As Ger was the “fortress” guarding Warsaw, so Alex ander shielded Lodz. No other dy nasty, apart from Ger, attracted such a vast multitude, and there were few towns in Poland which did not have an “Alexander Shtiebel.” Whilst Ger attracted scholars, Alexander drew the baaley batim—the merchants and the masses. There was considerable ri valry, not so much between the lead ers of Ger and Alexander as between their followers. Alexander was the third force in Poland, and stood aloof from political parties, associating neither with the Machzikey Hadath of Belz nor with the Agudah of Ger. Chasidim of Alexander were free to follow their own political bent, and in fact many were closely associated with Mizrachi. In the inter-war years Alexander was headed first by Samuel Zvi, au thor of Tifereth Shmuel (“The Glory of Samuel”) and then by his son, Isaac Menachem Mendel Dancyger (18801942) who stood at the helm for eighteen years. Father and son laid the stress on Torah, Tephilah, and Gemiluth Chasodim—sacred learning, prayer, and service to fellow men. Isaac Menachem Mendel also organ ized yeshivoth both at Alexander and Lodz. One of the most prominent Chasidic figures of his generation was the Reb be of Novominsk, Alter Israel Simon Perlow (1873-1933). “Go to Poland and spread Chasidism,” Rabbi Isaac ben Mordecai (1789-1868) of Neschitz had counselled Alter Israel’s father, Jacob, then a young rabbi. And faithfully Jacob had fulfilled his mis sion. He set up his “Court” in Minsk Mazowiecki where he made many 51

“converts” and won wide recognition. He built a huge yeshivah where hun dreds of young nien lived and learned and a great synagogue which held over a thousand worshippers. This was a showpiece hof (Court), com plete with its own gardens, orchards, stables, and horses. A “tourist indus try” sprang up and the municipality actually ran special trains for the tre mendous traffic in Novominsker Chas idim. Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook (18651935), later Chief Rabbi of Israel, described Rabbi Jacob as “unique in his generation.” On his death in 1902 his eldest son, Alter Yisrael Simon, age 27, took over the leadership of the Chasidim of Novominsk. HE pioneer who first brought Chasidism to Warsaw was the first Rebbe of Ger. Soon the capital of Po land became a Chasidic center, the home of over fifty Tzaddikim. In 1917 Alter Israel Simon, the Novominsker Rebbe, settled in War saw, and his home at 10 Franciszkanska became one of the thriving cen ters of Chasidism; Chasidim of all “denominations” flowed to the Novo minsker Court. He knew the Mishnah by heart and to the end of his days he rehearsed eighteen chapters daily. On the Sabbath he spoke only He brew. His Shabboth discourses took at least ninety minutes and held his hear ers from the beginning to the end. His eloquent addresses, his soul-stirring prayers, his melodious voice, and his mature wisdom spread his fame far and wide. Hillel Zeitlin used to say, “Whenever I felt depressed and in need of repentance I visited the Novominsker.” Once heard, the mel odies of the Novominsker were never

forgotten. His prayers were a revela tion, an outpouring of soul. From Warsaw and from the prov inces people flocked to the Novo minsker for help, for guidance, for comfort and for inspiration. With in finite patience he would listen and give practical, painstaking attention. He was associated with the Agudist Rabbinical Council, and yet he was on cordial terms with all the Chasidic rabbis. The Rebbe of Ger was a de voted friend who rarely passed War saw without visiting Rabbi Alter Yis rael Simon. “Go to the Novominsker,” the Gerer counselled many of his fol lowers. The Novominsker Rebbe, Alter Israel Simon Perlow, died on the 6th of Teveth, 5693, leaving twelve chil dren and ten volumes of writings on Torah and Kabolah. Many of these manuscripts perished in the Holocaust. Only Tifereth Ish, on the Passover Hagodah, was published posthu mously. His successor was his gifted son, Joseph. So fragile in physique that even the Nazis exempted him from forced labor, the new Novo minsker Rebbe was yet so indom itable in spirit that he regularly gave away his meager ration of food. He died in Bergen Belsen concentration camp on the 16th of April, 1945, on the morrow of the liberation by the British 2nd Army of General Sir Miles Dempsey. He was 28 years old. Rabbi Alter Yisrael Simon’s brother, Yehudah Ary eh Perlow (d. 1961), was one of the pioneers of Chasidism in the United States and author of Lev Ary eh (“The Heart of a Lion”) published in 1939, and Kol Yehudah, published in 1946. The tra dition is continued today by Rabbi Alter Yisrael Simon’s eldest son, RabJ E W IS H LIFE

i 9

bi Nahum Perlow, Novominsker Reb- There is hardly a discourse in which be in New York. he does not touch on some aspect of Most illustrious of the Novominsk the Sabbath. It runs like a luminous er progeny was his son-in-law Nathan thread throughout his writings. David Rabinowicz, the Biala Rebbe The Rebbe of Biala followed the (1900-1947). When Nathan David doctrine of Przysucha. Protestations was barely six years old his father of faith and piety were discouraged. died, and from that time the boy was Action and service, charity and lov chiefly dependent for his education ingkindness were the only valid meas on his uncle, the Rebbe of Radzimin. ure of a man’s sincerity. The Rebbe In 1928 Nathan David left for Lon was known far and wide for his warm don and kindled the flame of Chasi- heart and open house. A special dism in the East End. This was a new- kitchen at his “Court” provided meals era rebbe, equally at home with con--I for Chasidim and poor townsfolk. temporary scholarship and ancient The four sons of the Biala Rebbe Kabolah, equally at ease with old-time branched out further and established Chasidim and their semi-alienated chil their own dynasties. The eldest, dren. His personality, his perception, Nathan David of Parczew (1866his humanity, and his humor set him 1930), married Lea Reizel, daughter apart from the Chasidic rebbeyim of of Rabbi Yechiel Jacob of Kozienice. his day. And after his sudden death The second son, Meir Shlomo Yehuda his shtiebel continued to flourish much (1868-1933), settled first in Miedzyras did that of the Bratslaver in Po zec and subsequently in Warsaw where land, where the bereaved Chasidim he attracted scholars. The third son, refused to appoint a rebbe because Abraham Joshua Heschel (1875their leader “lived in their hearts.” 1933), devoted his life to the publica The dynasty of Biala was renown tion of his father’s many works. Most ed for illustrious wisdom and warm gifted of the sons was Yerachmiel humanity. The founder was Rabbi Zevi (1880—1906). He was one of the Isaac Jacob (1847-1905), son of Rab most remarkable of all the Chasidic bi Nathan David of Szydlowiec, a di leaders. A great Talmudist, he was rect descendant of Jacob Isaac, the also a brilliant violinist and a painter Holy Jew of Przysucha (1766-1814). of rare promise. His sketches reveal Significantly, the first Rebbe of Biala extraordinary insight and his voice was born on the Sabbath, on the 15th was soul- stirringly melodious. He died of Teveth, and more than any other at the age of 26, after being Rebbe Mitzvah, the Sabbath absorbed the for barely six months, leaving six heart and soul of the Biala Rebbe. small children.

ILLUSTRIOUS DYNASTIES ABBI Mordecai Joseph Leiner (1800-1854), author of Mey Ha-Shiloach (“Waters of Siloam”) was the founder of the Radzin-Izbice dynasty which produced five outstand-

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ing teachers in the course of a century. For thirteen years Rabbi Mordecai Joseph was a disciple of Mendel of Kotzk. Then he revolted against his great master and established himself

in Izbice. It was Rabbi Mordecai Jo don of Brezany. A workshop for the seph’s son, Rabbi Gershon Chanoch manufacture of tzitzith was established (1839-1891), who brought Radzin at the Rebbe’s court in Radzin. into the limelight. He wrote a classical Among the scholars who opposed him work, Sidrey Taharoth, on the sixth /on this matter was Rabbi Joshua of Order of the Mishnah, dealing with Kutno and Rabbi Isaac Elchanan the laws of purity. This work, com Spector. piling all the Talmudic and Rabbinic Gershon Chanoch studied medicine references pertaining to Taharoth, by himself and he actually wrote pre was in the format of a Talmudical scriptions in Latin for ailing Chasi tractate, and was the wonder of the dim. He was also a fine musician and scholarly world. Many scholars, how adept in arts and crafts. Gershon ever, strongly objected to this neo- Chanoch’s son, Rabbi Mordecai ElieTalmud. zer (1865-1929) settled in Warsaw in In 1887 Gershon Chanoch publish 1914 and devoted his life to publish ed a dissertation, Maamar Sefuney ing the works of his father. In all, Temuney Choi, dealing with the prob nine texts were published and fifteen lem of the P’sil Tcheleth (the strand remained in manuscript. His son, in of blue in the ritual fringes prescribed turn, Samuel Solomon (1908-1942), in the Torah.) According to Jewish left Warsaw in 1928 and returned to Law the Tzizith should have seven Radzin. He was very concerned with strands of white and one strand of the welfare of yeshivah students and blue. Gradually the process of obtain opposed the system of eating “days” ing the blue was forgotten and the in different homes. He established Jews for more than a thousand years Yeshivath Sod Yeshorim, where over did not wear P’sil T’cheleth. Accom 200 students lived in comparative panied by his shamosh, Israel Kotzker, comfort. During the Nazi occupation the rabbi travelled to Italy. Wander the Radziner Rebbe’s fiery courage ing along the shore of the Mediter warmed his Chasidim. He bitterly de ranean he became an expert on marine nounced collaborators. “Whoever life and he published a second book treads the lintels of the Judenrat,” on the subject, Maamar P’sil Teche- [The Jewish Council appointed by the leth (“Discourse on the Chord of Nazis], he said; “will forfeit both Blue”) in which he claimed to have worlds, for they are aiding the Nazis discovered the sea fish (sepia offici in the extermination of the Jews.” He nalis) named in Talmudic literature urged his Chasidim to arm fifty men as chalozon. He was able to separate for the fight against the Nazis. The the dye without adding any other poet Isaac Katznelson (1886-1944) coloring. On the first day of Chanu wrote a tribute to Samuel Solomon kah, 1889), he attached a chord of in his “The Song Concerning the Rad blue to his tzitzith and his Chasidim ziner.” followed suit. It was also adopted by the Umaner Chasidim, followers of HE dynasty of Radzymin, found ed by the “Miracle Worker,” Ja Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav, as well as by the great Halachic authority cob Aryeh Gutterman (1792-1877), Rabbi Shalom Mordecai Cohen Shvar- played a great role in Poland. Gutter-

J E W IS H LIFE

mann’s grandson, Rabbi Aaron Menachem Mendel (1842-1934), an edu cator, organizer, and social worker, founded the Shomer Shabboth Society and Tomchey Assurim (Prisoner’s Aid Committee) and was president of the Rabbi Meir Baal Haness fund (the traditional charity boxes in the Dias pora for collecting funds for poor Jews in the Holy Land). In 1928 he himself journeyed to the Holy Land to settle the conflict between the Pal estine and the Warsaw departments of the Kolel with regard to the dis tribution of collections made abroad for the support of the poor in Pal estine) He also made the headlines when he segregated the sexes at the Wailing Wall by placing a partition between the men and the women wor shippers. A beloved figure was Rabbi Isaac Zelig Morgenstern (1867-1939), the Sokolower Rebbe, a great-grandson of Rabbi Mendele of Kotzk. His fa ther, Rabbi Chayim Israel of Pilev, was the great religious Zionist. At the age of eighteen Isaac Zelig was ap pointed Rabbi at Sokolow. As a youth Dr. Zygmunt Bichowski had instruct ed him in medicine and like the Radziner Rebbe, Isaac Zelig wrote pre scriptions in Latin. “Give me 200 Jews who have not bowed to Baal,” cried Rabbi Mendel of Kotzk, the misanthrope. Isaac Zelig was more benevolent in his outlook. In 1910 he was one of the delegates at the conference of communal lead ers in St. Petersburg (Leningrad) and there he came into contact with Rab bi Chayim Soloveichik (1852-1918) and Rabbi Joseph Isaac Schneierson of Lubavitch. In 1919 he joined Agudath Israel and also became vice-president of the Agudath Horabbonim. His orations at the Agudah conferences

November-December, 1964

were highlights of the assembly and his discourses appeared in the Rab binical journals “Degel Hatorah” and “Be’er.” Like his father, author of Sholom Yerushaloyim (“Peace, O Jerusalem”), in 1886 the Sokolower urged his fol lowers to support the Yishuv and he visited the Holy Land in 1924. Men del, rabbi of Wegrow, son of the Sokolower, was shot by the Nazis on Yom Kippur in 1939. The aged fa ther, while celebrating Succoth, sensed the bitter news and the cup of wine fell from his hands. “They have killed my son!” the broken-hearted father cried. He died a few months later. Rabbi Yechiel Meir Halevy Halstock (1852—1928) was the son of Abraham Isaac, a bagel baker. At the age of ten he was “adopted” by Elimelech, the Rebbe of Grodzisk, who supervised his education. He was soon recognized as an “illui.” At the age of twenty-seven Yechiel Meir be came Rabbi at Skierniewice, where he spent ten peaceful years. In 1888 he moved to Ostrowiec. An assiduous student, he would go over the entire Talmud in the brief four-week period between Purim and Pesach. For forty years Yechiel Meir fasted every day, eating a frugal meal only in the evenings. He was proud of his father and humble origin. “My father of blessed memory,” he would tell his distinguished visitors, “used to say that the best thing is a freshly baked bread.” His son, Ezekiel, author of Kodshey Yichezkel, (“The Holiness of Ezekiel”) and Meir Eyney Chachomim (“Enlightening the Eyes of the Wise”) succeeded him. Ezekiel and his seven sons died martyr’s deaths in Nazi hands, exclaiming to the very end: “Hear O Israel, the Lord our G-d the Lord is one.”

THË TRADITION OF MUSIC composed a triumphant melody for

UZMIR and Modzitz occupy a high place in the history of Cha- the final affirmation of faith: “I be K sidic musicology. The family tradi lieve with perfect faith in the coming

tion of Rabbi Ezekiel of Kuzmir of Moshiach, and though he tarry, (1806-1856) was upheld by Rabbi Ï will wait daily for his coming.” Saul Yedidia Eliezer Taub who was This was the faith for which they born in 1886 at Ozarow, near Radom. gave their lives in sanctification of From 1918 to 1922 he served as rabbi / G-d’s Name. in Rakow and in 1929 he settled in OtROM Lublin too, came famous wock near Warsaw. He was the prod Chasidic rebbeyim, including Rabuct of neither conservatory nor musi cal academy. No professor instructed bb Solomon Eiger and Rabbi Moses him in the rudiments of musical the Mordecai Twer sky, whose home at 40 ory, yet there was music in his veins. Lubertowska was a vibrant center of Not only Chasidim but well-known Chasidism. What Ger was to Poland, composers, Jewish and Gentile, can Belz was to Galicia. “The whole tors from Poland and abroad, and world,” as Chasidim of Belz were even Maskilim flocked to Otwock to wont to say, “journeys to Belz.” The listen to the compositions (of which rebbes of Belz stressed sincerity and there were said to be more than 700) simplicity as the fundamentals of the of this untutored genius. More than a good life. Rabbi Isachor Dov (1854thousand Chasidim sat at his table 1927), second son of Rabbi Joshua every Sabbath at the Third Meal (Sho- Rokeach, was a militant upholder of losh Seudoth) to hear his Torah dis tradition. In October, 1922 Count courses and his melodies. What other Galecki, Governor of Lwow, backed rabbis achieved by their scholarship, by several orthodox Jews who sup Rabbi Taub achieved with music and ported the assimilationists’ camp, he won many adherents to Chasidism. urged the Belzer to issue a proclama At the outbreak of the Second tion calling upon Jews to vote against World War Rabbi Taub lived in Vil the Minority Block. The Rebbe of na. He narrowly escaped the Nazi Belz unequivocally refused. In 1927 Rabbi Aaron Dov (1880holocaust and died in the Holy Land on the 16th of Kislev 5709 (Novem 1957), son of Rabbi Isachor, suc ber 29, 1947), on the very day of ceeded to his father’s office. His seven the United Nations decision to par children were killed by the Nazis. tition Palestine. He was the last per Miraculously he escaped Hitlerian ter son to be buried on the Mount of ror and finally reached the Holy Land. Far removed from earthly mat Olives in Jerusalem. The tradition of music remained ters, he dedicated himself to the serv with the Chasidim even to the end ice of G-d and study of Torah. Yet, in the valley of the shadow of death, during the Sinai campaign (Israel mil along the paths that led to the cre itary operation directed against Egypt, matoria where hundreds of thousands October 29-November 5, 1956), he of Chasidim perished. It was at that neither ate nor drank nor spoke for tragic time that Rabbi Azriel Pastag forty-eight hours while praying for a

J E W IS H LIFE

Jewish victory. “My sons,” he said, “we have won with the help of the Almighty.” Next in importance to Belz was the dynasty of Bobov. Rabbi Benzion Halberstamm (1874-1941) main tained the traditions of his father, Rabbi Solomon. A noted composer, he created many melodies for his Chasidim and his Friday night nigun to the table-hymn Ka Ribon Olom (“G-d of the World”) was renowned through the country. Like the Rebbe of Ger, he concentrated on youth, establishing Yeshivath Etz Chayim which eventually developed forty-six branches throughout Galicia. A spe cial society, Tomchey T’mimim (“Up holders of the Perfect” ), looked after the physical needs of the students.

During his residence in Otwock (1927-1939) Rabbi Joseph Isaac Schneierson of Lubavitch founded a number of Tomchey T ’mimim Yeshi voth. Rabbi Menachem Mendel Alter Kalisch of Pabianice (near Lodz) es tablished Yeshivath Darkey Noam. Equally successful was Rabbi Sholom Henoch Ha-Kohen Rabinowicz (b. 1882) of Radomsko. His Yeshivath Kether Torah opened thirty-six branches in Poland and Galicia. In Cracow there were more Radomsker shtielblech than Gerer shtieblech. The Radomsker was a man of sub stance who owned a glass factory as well as houses in Sosnowiec, Berlin, and Warsaw. He had one of the finest libraries in Poland and was the au thor of Tifereth Sh’lomo (“Glory of Solomon”), homilies on the Chumosh and Festivals. TRANGELY enough, Poland, the The Radomsker’s son-in-law, Moses home of Torah, was not at first David Hakohen Rabinowicz (b. the home of great yeshivoth. During 1900), was the author of Zivchey the 19th century Mithnagdic Lithu Kohen (“Sacrifices of a Priest”). Un ania had the monopoly and the “voice der his guidance the yeshivoth of of the Torah went out from Mir and Radomsk achieved high standards of the word of the Lord from Slabodka.” learning, particularly in the famous Chasidic bachurim studied in the Kether Torah colleges at Lodz, Sos shtieblech and the Battey Midrashim nowiec, Bendin, Radomsk, Kielce Kaof the rebbes. A trend towards Cha bowice, Piotrkow, and Czestochowa. sidic yeshivoth was a development of The Rebbe himself supplied half the the inter-war years when the rebbes yeshivoth budget and the rest was sub began to establish their own religious scribed by his Chasidim. No provi academies and the young followers sion was made for the Rabbinical were spared the difficult choice be Diploma and emphasis was on study tween inadequate study in the home for the sake of study and not for atmosphere of the shtiebel and thor certification. The Radomsker was ough Talmudic grounding in the alien murdered by the Nazis in 1942, to setting of a Lithuanian or Mithnag gether with his son-in-law, and was dic yeshivah such as Mir, Barano- buried in the Ohel of the Rabbi of wice, Radun, or Ponovez. Novominsk in Warsaw. H* * *

A S the Holocaust raged, the lights of Chasidism were dimmed and

November-December, 1964

a deathly pall descended. Hundreds of thousands of Chasidim were wiped

off the earth. Sages by the score perished with the Holy Scrolls in their hands and holy words on their lips. The Jewish quarters of Warsaw, Lodz, Lublin, Otwock, once citadels of pi ety and learning, became piles of rub ble, the physical symbol of almost total destruction of Chasidism in Po land. However, the end of the story is

not reached. For out of the ashes, phoenix-like, a new Chasidism arose. In London, in New York, in Jerusa lem, it lives on today and the proud names of Lubavitch, Ger, Belz, Novominsk, Biala, and Bobov are lov ingly cherished and honored in the lives of thousands of followers who have established the traditions of their fathers in the lands of freedom.

J E W IS H LIFE

B o o k R eview s Classic Jo u rn al of an Epic Jo u rn ey

By PHILIP ZIMMERMAN

THE ITINERARY OF BENJAMIN OF TUDELA, Critical Text, Translation and Commentary, by Marcus Nathan Adler, Philipp Feldheim, New York, 1964. 2 2 2 p p . $ 6 .0 0 .

history. Rabbi Benjamin, who has been called “one of the greatest travellers who ever lived,” visited about 300 cities, in cluding the great centers of culture and commerce of his time.

HE amazing variety of its literary ATURALLY, a classic work such as activity is one of the outstanding fea this has gone through many edi tures of the “Golden Age” of Jewish lit tions, both in the Hebrew original as erature, which sets it apart from the well as in other modern and ancient “Silver Age” which followed in eastern languages. We are now presented with a Europe. Bible Commentary and Halo- reprint of the 1907 translation and text chah, Poetry and Philosophy, Grammar of Adler. This is a fine scholarly job, and Responsa flowed with equal exuber and actually supplements the 1840-41 ance from the inspired pens of that age. edition of Asher, which, while supplying A small, but important, branch of this less critical apparatus, is stronger on literature is formed by the account of background material. Jeiwsh travellers, and the place of honor Rabbi Benjamin, while not known as among these works goes to “The Itiner an outstanding scholar, was a man of ary of Benjamin of Tudela.” This Jew “Torah and Halochah,” as we are in ish traveller set out in 1165 from the formed in the introduction to his book, city of Tudela in Spain, and in eight written by some unknown hand. He re years travelled about much of the then- corded happenings of specific Jewish in known world. The account of his jour terest as well as facts of general world neys, Massaoth Shel Rabbi Binyamin history and commerce. At every Jewish (based on a play on words of Bereshith community he visited, he noted the lead 43:34), makes one of the most fascinat ing scholars, the institutions of learning, ing documents of Jewish literature, as the number of Jewish inhabitants, and well as a gold mine for Jewish and world places of historic interest. Rabbi Benja-

November-December, 1964

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min also was alert to the trends of po litical domination in his time. At times he records quaint legends, which he us ually prefaces with the words “I have heard,” rather than “I have seen.” In this regard, later historical researchers have generally found our traveller more accurate than the world-famous Marco Polo, who visited many of the same lo cations in the next century. This is no doubt due to the sharp eye Rabbi Ben jamin had for such facts as the impor tance of the rising of the river Nile, the number of merchants visiting the city of Constantinople, and the land where are found “the animals called yair, ermine, and sable.” In his specific Jewish as well as general interests, Rabbi Benjamin provides a per fect example of the Jewish person con fronting the two areas of existence, (spe cifically Jewish and broad general) of which Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchick has recently written and spoken. So too, the reasons advanced for the motivation of this intrepid traveller fall into this pat tern. Among the reasons given for the trip have been: the desire to seek out possible places of refuge for his perse cuted brethren; the wish to locate Jews scattered to all corners of the world in possible fulfillment of messianic proph ecy; the desire for wider knowledge; ideas of trade and commerce. The reception granted this book has also shown this dual picture. Rabbi Ben jamin’s work is an accepted part of Torah literature. It is quoted by Rabbi Don Isaac Abarbanel, Rabbi Isaac Arama and other Torah greats. On the other hand, the famous historian Gibbon used Rabbi Benjamin, if somewhat grudgingly, as an important source in the classic De-

November-December, 1964

dine and Fall. So Rabbi Benjamin’s dual confrontation was to be later accepted by the world of Torah learning as well as the world of general scholarship. It is also of interest to note that the “Itin erary” provided the impetus to a 19th century Jewish traveller who styled him self Benjamin II, as well as to a famous novel by a “Grandfather” of Yiddish lit erature. Adler’s translation is a faithful rendi tion of the Hebrew text, much aided by an excellent map of the trip. Adler seems rather weak in the complete iden tification of the 248 scholars and heads of communities listed by Rabbi Benja min in his wide travels. These, of course, are of prime importance to the Jewish reader. While one can agree with his de sire for the highest scholarly standards, it is hard, for example, to see what is gained by Adler’s omission of the beau tiful postscript found in some manu scripts (included by Asher in his trans lation) in which Rabbi Benjamin so fit tingly prays for the mercies of Heaven and the gathering of the scattered of Is rael. In spite of these points, all lovers of Jewish literature should be happy to have this work available once again. One looks forward to a re-issue of Elkan N. Adler’s 1930 work on Jewish travel lers (based on the Hebrew edition of J. D. Eisenstein) which forms a compan ion volume to that of Rabbi Benjamin. In our age, when travel has been made so easy from a technological point of view, there remains an immense fascina tion in these intrepid travellers, who sought out their scattered brethren and strove to rediscover the antiquities of their heritage.

J E W IS H LIFE

Concepts in Capsule By ARNOLD HEISLER

A BOOK OF JEWISH CONCEPTS, by Philip Birnbaum, Hebrew Publishing Company, New York, 1964. 719 pp. $6.95.

An author of note, Philip Birnbaum addresses to the general reader, as well as to those who study the lore of Judaism, a volume that, in greatest part, brings to light works of note of great scholars of past generations. His work offers, with clarity and forthrightness, an intellectual understanding and appreciation of Juda ism. Dr. Birnbaum has well summed up the crying need for such a masterful work in stating: “ ‘A Book of Jewish Con cepts’ is the result of an attempt to put into one volume the essence of Judaism for the use of the modern English reader. Judaism has influenced, directly and in directly, countless millions of people in the course of thirty centuries. Modern man will do well to discover that this profoundly felt system of thought has that which will help him in his own search for truth.” In “A Book of Jewish Concepts” we have a scholarly, well-written, and wellpresented work that impresses the reader with the erudition and wisdom of the author. He treats numerous subjects with a keen, scholarly insight and penetrating depth. The spirit of the Jew felt through his prayers, his steadfast loyalty, and his unswerving devotion to G-d and Torah, is made manifest.

FJIODAY we do not suffer from a X dearth of books treating of religious values. Man of today is so constituted that he seeks ways and means of cur tailing his reading time while still hop ing to keep abreast of the times. With many present-day Jews seeking to swal low Judaism in capsule form, there is a constant search for those materials that will serve this purpose—conden sation in a few easy-to-read pages of volumes dealing with Yiddishkeit and Jewish values. I dare say that it was the desire to serve this purpose which motivated the author of the book under review. After sifting through the vast storehouses of Jewish law, lore, customs, and prayers, he has presented us, in one volume, 672 pages of references in encyclopedic form in his “A Book of Jewish Concepts.” Great pains were obviously taken by the author to collate and carefully ar range in Hebrew alphabetic form the fundamental data dealing with such sub jects as the Talmud, Kabbalah, Poetry, Ethics, and Chasidism. He has endeav ored to open new vistas of understand ONETHELESS, I view with wonder ing of Jewish life as well as to explore ment and questioning the policy of the obscure writings of Gedoley Hador including in such a work specific areas of the past, in the hope of explaining the of Jewish law which might lead the aver faith that is the majesty of Eternal Israel. age layman to “pasken his own sh’eloth.”

November-December, 1964

For example, in discussing Hag'olath Kelim, the cleansing of utensils, the au thor carefully spells out procedures re lating to Pesach, as well as everyday kashering. Such information, in this vol ume, might very well be looked upon as serving a dual purpose—combining Halocha Umaaseh with exposition of the ten ets of Judaism. I must also point out that the ap pearance of G-d’s name in print is im proper, and should not be used in any such reference book. Other than in sacred texts, the “Shem,” the Divine Name, should never appear in entirety in print, but rather in shortened substitute where required, since the possibilities of any other type of publication being subjected to the form of disrespect to the written name of the Almighty are evident. Although the author treats many sub jects at great length, others are handled with extreme and disproportionate brevi ty. To my mind it is incongruous that a subject like the Calendar is dealt with in four pages, while a subject like Tshuvah, Penitence, is relegated to sev enteen brief lines. Much space is devoted to T’shuvah in our sacred Scriptures, alike in the Torah, in the Prophets, and

in the Writings, wherein Israel is con stantly called to task for past transgres sions, and called upon to repent. The Book of Jonah, showing the effect of T’shuvah on the life of an entire com munity, is an example. So effective was this mass repentance that the Book of Jonah was chosen to be read in the synagogue on Yom Kippur. While it is understandable that the author felt the need to limit his comments at given points, for the sake of containing all his material in one volume that would not be too cumbersome to handle, this reviewer is of the opinion that T’shuvah and various other basic concepts of our religion were unfortunate choices for special brevity. In contrast, there is much repetition in the discussion of other sub jects. The author evidently considers such repetition preferable to page reference, a policy which I find cumbersome and unnecessary. Notwithstanding its shortcomings, “A Book of Jewish Concepts” constitutes an achievement of significant merit; reading the book was a genuinely stimulating experience. It is to be hoped that the stu dent ,the educator, and the well trained layman will find a means of extending his knowledge through this volume.

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J E W IS H LIFE

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