No Shul Ever Should Sponsor a Casino Evening, Poker Game, or Other Game of Chance

It long has been my halakhic position that all synagogues should not – and many synagogues may not – sponsor, conduct, participate in, or otherwise associate with poker games, “Las Vegas Nights,” “Casino Evening” events, or other such events. As I have gotten to know Jewish communities outside main Torah centers, my position has solidified further that, at such places and at such times in Shuls’ and Jewish communities’ evolutions, such an halakhic position prohibiting these events is mandated.

In reaching my opinion, grounded in several authoritative halakhic sources, I note a policy statement written for the benefit of both the laity and the rabbinate and adopted four years ago by the convened membership of the Rabbinical Council of America (RCA). The RCA resolution is not singularly determinative of those deeply grounded views. Rather, it is comparatively understated when compared to positions taken by other authoritative halakhic sources. But I do share it, hopeful that it helps shed an aspect of light on this issue of national significance:

Gambling as Communal Fundraising Vehicle:

RCA Calls Upon Communal Institutions to Desist from Using High-Stakes Gambling to Raise Funds

(Newark, NJ) May 17, 2005 -- Whereas gambling in general, and card games involving significant wagering such as poker in particular, have received tremendous public attention as a result of numerous depictions in the media of both gaming professionals as well as popular celebrities engaging in high-stakes games of chance; and,

Whereas certain Jewish communal institutions – e.g., synagogues, day schools, federations, and other Jewish fraternal organizations - have recently placed an increased emphasis upon offering “Las Vegas” nights and poker games as a new way to raise significant funds; and,

Whereas it is readily apparent that high stakes gambling runs counter to Jewish values; and,

Whereas Jewish communal organizations must always model appropriate ethical and moral standards not only as they carry out their mandates, but also as they promote themselves, especially when encouraging Jews to participate in specific activities for fundraising purposes; and,

Whereas the Orthodox community recognizes that the alarming, “at-risk” behavior of many adolescents, including excessive gambling, is in part fostered by the well-publicized activities of their adult role-models and of the Jewish institutions of their communities:

Therefore, the Rabbinical Council of America hereby calls upon all Jewish communal institutions not to use gambling as a fundraising vehicle and to seek alternative fundraising methods instead, even if they thereby raise less money.

A synagogue is a House of G-d, and even outside its sanctuary walls it is bidden institutionally to stand as role-model for spirituality. All synagogues need to raise funds, and funds often are difficult to come by. Even so, there are limits -- real spiritual and public-policy limits -- to what synagogues and temples may do in pursuit of funds.

For example, the National Council of Young Israel bars its shuls from honoring at their banquets individuals who -- but for their money -- are not honorable. At its most recent national convention, in May 2009, the Rabbinical Council of America adopted this forthright and unequivocal stand:

Communal and Synagogue Honors Must Be Given Only to Those with Reputations for Ethical Behavior

May 12, 2009 -- Our Torah commands sanctity in the marketplace and workplace as in the home and synagogue. From Biblical times to the present, Jews have been summoned to a life of ethical behavior and social responsibility, of respect for both ritual practice and the rule of civil law. This tradition acknowledges the legitimacy of property rights as well as business profit, but simultaneously challenges us to fulfill principles of just conduct, even when faced with serious financial challenges.

It is naturally the responsibility of synagogues as central Jewish institutions of assembly, and of Jewish day schools as centers for teaching Jewish knowledge and imbuing Jewish values, to implement and practice exemplary public policies that demonstrate and promote the centrality of these values.

Recently the Rabbinical Council of America (RCA) has begun issuing a series of guidelines delineating ethical business practices for employer and employee, market and consumer, in an effort to educate and inspire sanctity in earning a livelihood, as in the entirety of our religious lives.

This effort to educate and inspire recognizes that a person's past impropriety does not irrevocably define his path. Consequently, we fervently hope that individuals who have become associated with questionable activities will find ways to rehabilitate themselves and engage in the sorts of meaningful acts of teshuvah that will demonstrate to the community's satisfaction that they have put these activities behind them. However, until such acts of honest contrition take place, other courses of action, symbolic as well as substantive, are required.

Therefore, be it resolved that we must vigorously educate and demonstrate to our laity and our day school students and parents, especially in our trying economic times, that the Torah mandate for ethical behavior and social responsibility is paramount.

We call upon synagogues to review longstanding policies and publicly reaffirm among their membership that ritual kibbudim, leadership positions and public honors and recognitions should be conferred only upon those whose reputations for honesty and ethical conduct comport with these values.

Ritual kibbudim include leading services, opening and closing the Aron Kodesh, ascending to the Torah, and raising the Torah and rolling it closed.

Leadership positions include serving as gabbai, synagogue officer or board member, or otherwise occupying a position of honor in the synagogue administration.

Public honors and recognition include receiving special mention at synagogue banquets and assemblies, and having names assigned to synagogue facilities or inscribed in places of honor.

It is understood that moral turpitude may come to light only long after it has been committed. In some cases, allegations of corruption may defy judicial clarification for months and years. In such circumstances, the synagogue should take all of these steps immediately upon its verification of past corruption.

We further call upon synagogues to place an enhanced premium on according meaningful honor - honor in synagogue ritual, honor in selection to serve in synagogue governance, and honor in other aspects of public synagogue recognition - to individuals whose financial standing may be modest but who, by their own exemplary conduct and noble deeds, bring honor to their synagogues, their communities, and to the Torah and G-d of Israel.

We call upon other Jewish institutions in our land to adopt and execute policies similar to those we urge above for synagogues and Jewish day schools.

Against this backdrop, it is clear that our community now stands at an important moment in its evolution, a spiritual crossroads. Just as a shul would not publicly honor or accord a position of lay leadership to a social miscreant, or someone who perjures himself in sworn court declarations, or someone who commits financial fraud or otherwise perpetrates gross violations of business ethics, and just as it is inconceivable that a congregation would accord significant ritual or lay honors to someone who has sexually harassed someone or who acts as a bully assaulting someone or hurling a person's papers or desk paraphernalia around his office, so it devolves on a spiritual congregation to stand forcefully, yet gracefully, as a beacon for spirituality. Its halls should be filled with the sounds of Torah study, not the shuffling of a deck of cards. Its programs -- even those conducted "off-site" -- should be enlivened by the sights and sounds of kosher cooking and Israeli dancing, Torah classes and Judaism lectures, not the sounds of a spinning roulette wheel or stacking of betting chips.

In the past, it was understandable within the American Orthodoxy of the 1950s and 1960s that an immigrant generation and its first-generation-American children did not always "get it." They saw Catholic churches running Bingo games in America and figured "Why not?" (After all, don't we respect the traditions and teachings handed down to us from B-4? Don't so many of us assure our worried mothers: "Mom, I-8 already"?) Their lay leaders had not attended yeshiva schools, never had studied real Jewish texts in the text, never had learned to read and study Rashi and Chumash, Mishnah, or Talmud. Many had never even attended a Jewish day school, where -- because all Jewish schools of any substance have daily davening -- every child emerges by third or fourth grade with core Hebrew reading skills and the skills to navigate a siddur with ease. So it was understandable that such a generation of parents reflected their own lack of access to Judaic learning by sponsoring such events.

But in this, the 21st century of the Common Era, where Orthodox congregations are led almost uniformly by lay leaders who can open and learn a Gemara sugya, who send their children to yeshiva day schools where Torah and Rashi are taught as basic subjects, and where davening Shacharit and Mincha every day are fundamental basics of the school curriculum they demand for their children and where their children (if sent to camp) are sent to Orthodox summer camping programs, we may expect more of ourselves, our lay leaders, and our institutions of religious and spiritual substance. In such a world, such an environment, the virtually unanimous voice of Orthodox Jewish practice and deep-seated values is clear, as represented above in the resolutions so recently adopted by the Rabbinical Council of America: poker games, casino evenings, "Las Vegas Nights" -- all these variations on "games of chance," regardless of what individuals may do with certain of their friends in the privacy of their own homes, are absolutely outside the pale of acceptability for a shul's or a synagogue's fundraising or socializing program.

And for any shul that kids itself into believing that they will find favor in G-d's eyes by trying to raise funds for their institution by sponsoring "Casino Evenings" -- well, I wouldn't bet on those odds.

K'doshim: Separating the Holy from the Despicable

“Tell the entire assemblage of Israel: you shall be holy because I the L-rd your G-d am holy.” (Vayikra 19:2)

This week’s Torah portion lays out a comprehensive array of Divinely ordained commandments that define the range of Judaism’s unique values. Legislated to an assemblage of just-liberated slaves, these are the concepts and aspirations taught orally to Moshe at Sinai and thereafter transmitted in an appendix – the Written Torah. Through them, we were sculpted into an entity greater than mere physical emancipation could have offered. We were made holy.

In Judaism, “holiness” is epitomized by separation -- "separateness." “Behold [they comprise] a Nation that shall dwell alone.” (Bamidbar 23:9). We are holy because we are separate.

These laws separated us from the surrounding world. Don’t just fear your Dad but also your Mom; don’t just cuddle up to Mom with honor but also honor your Dad. And, yet, remember that both your parents, no less than you, answer to the Creator; their authority extends only within Torah’s parameters.

Yes, be really careful to observe all the detailed rituals governing animal sacrifice, and carefully observe all kinds of esoteric laws: Refrain from donning garments made from a combination of both linen and wool. Don’t shave with a razor blade or obliterate your sideburns or get caught up in a societal tattooing craze. Tatt too will pass. Don’t go to fortune-tellers, and don’t erect statues.

But also remember that, as part of being holy – of being different – your Creator will hold you accountable for cursing deaf people and for tripping up the blind, even if they are oblivious to your deeds. He will demand you account for conducting business dealings deceitfully, for failing to leave a corner of your field’s produce as open-pickings for the poor. Don’t you dare steal or deal falsely. If you invoke His name in a false oath, if you perjure yourself in a court filing, you will have to account. Don’t you dare cheat your neighbor, and don’t you rob, and don’t you withhold your employee’s wages past payday. Don’t you dare.

Maybe the late-night TV talk show hosts make fun of elderly people, but not you. When you see someone with white hair, you get up from your cozy chair and you stand out of respect, and you honor that time-worn face. She has endured it all, and she has earned your reverence.

So it’s not just about meticulously observing 39 rules that define Jewish Sabbath observance – although that, too, is central to the very concept of a Jewish People. Nor is it only about eating kosher and avoiding forbidden mixtures. Rather, it also is about being honest, ethical, trustworthy, and thus noble. Your scales must be honest when you weigh a pound of meat or a hill of beans. Your every transaction must be honest; even your resumés must be truthful: where you went to school, the degrees you truly earned. A holy nation is not led by crooks, nor does it honor them.

That is what makes a great people. Such separateness makes “holy.”

Greatness is not measured by the size of your bat mitzvah smorgasbord or the layout of your backyard pool, but by how you acquired them. Your fancy car and your home landscaping and the jewelry in your safe do not define you. Your deeds define you. As Rabbi Emanuel Rackman taught: It is not enough to do well; you must do good.

Whom do we honor? At our every organizational banquet, our every special event, do we make room on the dais to honor at least one person of modest means whose presence is grounded exclusively in her kindness, her goodness, her nobility of character?

Money is great. And many profoundly wealthy people also justly populate the platform of the noble, those blessed with dignity and grace of character. But is wealth the standard we employ in selecting our nobles, our honorees? Can a Holy Nation count among its leaders those whose wealth is bound with mendacity? Those who became rich by ruining others or those who climbed ladders by destroying the reputations of others?

Not a holy nation. Not a nation separated and set apart by the command of their Creator to deal honestly, to judge honestly, and never to do unto others what they would not want done to them.

That is the striking message of this week’s Torah portion. It should be mandatory reading for every banquet committee and every nominating committee in organized American Jewish life. Its message is that extraordinary. And we all should study it, too.

Postville, Kosher Meat, Rubashkin, Ethics Scandal

Clearly, the allegations against the slaughterhouse may be false. It may be that undocumented workers were working at Postville, but that they deceived Postville management, inducing them to believe that their working papers were in order. Employers in Iowa cannot be expected to suspect every Latino and Latina who arrives in Postville, seeking employment. It would be understandable that legal immigrants from depressed societies would flock to a large plant that offers labor opportuntities, albeit at lower pay than skilled professional work.

Similarly, it may well be that the undocumented workers, and other low-paid workers, now are fabricating stories of workplace abuse and even sexual harassment for any of a number of reasons: (i) thinking that such claims will shift the focus of law enforcement away from them and onto Postville's management and rabbis; (ii) thinking that, if they are going under, they may as well take their employers with them; and (iii) perhaps even being motivated by union activists, immigration groups, and others -- including activists within the legal community --to fabricate accounts that could lay a foundation for class-action lawsuits.

So I am not yet prepared to believe unequivocally anything being said, dissseminated, or otherwise spread and published within the media, including the JTA daily news reports.

But there is no question that this thing is a massive Chilul Hashem. By this weekend, Jewish weekly newspapers will be having a field day, lambasting "the Orthodox," using the news to revisit the issue of the filmed slaughter that troubled those who viewed it previously. Already, there are those using this scandal to imply that it is they who are the more noble guardians of kashrut and Judaism by suggesting that, unlike "the Orthodox," they would deem Jewish ethics an essential part of any certification.

Like we don't?

Even as the Gerut Crisis emerged unexpectedly in Israel and compelled an organized response, so does the Postville matter call us to address the matters being disseminated and to set forth that, although the early reports and press conferences may prove absolutely and utterly unfounded, there is an halakhic imperative to be ethical in all business matters.

Now, let us be fair and understand the dilemma faced by kosher certifiers at any meat plant, whether at Rubashkin or anywhere else. In a way, it goes back to the politics of the 1970s when people asked how anyone could certify the kashrut of Pepsi products when the company was doing business with the Arabs and the Soviets but not with Israel. Kashrut certification should almost-always be separate from politics. And, just as the USDA has a limited mandate -- to inspect food and not to adjudge working conditions and workplace issues -- it would be quite a thing to have kashrut certifiers take on themselves the responsibilities of OSHA, the EPA, the EEOC, the INS, and all those other acronyms.

A rabbinically trained mashgiach is trained particularly in the laws of Yoreh De'ah, one of the four compendia of the Shulkhan Arukh, the Code of Jewish Law. Those laws are complex and esoteric. I know because, as a Rav with Orthodox s'mikha, I had to pass a whole series of exams on aspects of Yoreh De'ah. We learned Yoreh De'ah intensely for a year, and we still did not learn everything that a trained mashgiach certifier at a slaughterhouse must know.

It would be profoundly unfair to expect such a person to be expert also in determining whether immigration documentation is authetic or forged, to adjudge whether workplace conditions comply with OSHA rules, etc. Certainly, no one expects such broad knowledge among USDA inspectors. Moreover, if the rabbinate ever were to assume the duty to inspect worker documentation, that assumption of responsibility would open the floodgates of litigation liability. So let's be fair.

That said, this scandal looms as such a mammoth Chilul Hashem – just wait till this weekend’s secular Jewish weeklies arrive – we have to ask, good and hard – when there looms a Chilul Hashem on so mammoth a proportion as looms at Postville – whether we ought to have a mechanism in place to affirm and explain the Torah community’s position on business ethics.

On the one hand, we know our balabatim (laity) are, for the most part, as honest or more honest than the norm. As a purely impressionistic observation, the paucity of kosher meals ordered by Jewish prisoners in the federal incarceration system reflects that we make up far fewer crooks than our numbers in the population might otherwise anticipate. Few of us know any real crooks among our balabatim, and those who are crooks are profoundly outlier.

Yet, the stereotypes pervade. The image of a Chasidic community in upstate New York that bullet-voted for a particular United States Senate candidate after her husband, who did not pardon Pollard, extended quasi-pardons to crooked members of that Chasidic community. The gentleman who was photographed wearing his black fedora as he alighted the federal courthouse steps in Washington, D.C., in the center of the lobbying scandal two years ago. The recent money-laundering, tax-evasion scandal involving certain Chasidim on the East Coast and certain members of the Orthodox Union leadership on the West Coast. And now Postville.

Our position on ethics – a position we all intuitively know like “aleph-beis” – should be made clear to a Jewish public that whispers. For example, my role model on this issue (as on so many other issues) is Rav Steven Weil of Beverly Hills. When a financial-ethics scandal hit in Southern California, including a prominent member of his shul, Rav Weil spoke so strongly and firmly from his pulpit that the waves reverberated down to Orange County. (Well, at least I heard about it in Irvine.)

It is important to do hasbarah on the issue of Jewish ethics. And rabbonim (Orthodox rabbis) must be fearless to lead the way. We should speak out on the ethics issues arising from Postville, fully cognizant that for all we know the Rubashkins may have done absolutely nothing wrong. I re-emphasize: it may well emerge that the Rubashkins did absolutely nothing wrong. They may have been deceived by people who traffic in undocumented workers, forging papers to present to unsuspecting employers. I absolutely scoff at the notion that there was a methamphetamine lab on the premises with their scienter. That is so bogus.

Yet we must speak out on the imperative of Jewish ethics. We should seek a mechanism for explaining to the public why mashgichim cannot check immigration documentation the way they check lungs. And we should explain that “Orthodox” Jewish behavior assumes, as a foundational principle, ethical business behavior.

These scandals raise questions in the minds of non-Jews because, as history has unfolded, that is the stereotype that we Jews have the "merit" to shoulder unfairly. Just as Italians unfairly are associated in the public mind with stereotypers of organized crime, just as Irish people unfairly are stereotyped with imbibing, and just as Polish people unfairly are stereotyped with jokes about being less smart. These are terribly unfair stereotypes. Not only unfair -- but ridiculously wrong-headed. Rudy Giuliani is Italian and rose as a crime fighter. Justice Antonin Scalia is tough-headed on crime. Similarly, Poles include world leading thinkers and just regular intelligent and even brilliant people, ranging from a former pope to Zbigniew Brzezinski to my morning radio fix, Laura Ingraham. Menachem Begin grew up in Poland. So did two of my four grandparents.

Stereotypes are tough. As for the stereotype that we bear, we are perceived as being very smart but also very cheap and so unethical that we will do anything, no matter how unethical, to make an extra penny. (And what a false stereotype it is! Only Jews want to save money? Like they never have a department store sale in Montana or Idaho?) And, as far as Wall Street crimes go, our boys did not run Enron.

Yet, this is life. If the immigration raid takes place at a shoe manufacturing plant owned by Jews, it is a shame, but it is not as stereotypically horrible as watching the federal government set up special holding cells for people being dragged from a kosher slaughter plant overseen by Chassidim. On the one hand, there is a glorious reward for wearing a yarmulka and tzitzit. On the other hand, the federal raid makes quite a story on page one of the New York Times (for those who still buy the paper).

Even for a guy like me who does not care a whit about what non-Jews think about me as a Jew -- c'mon, do non-Jews worry every day about what "the Jews" will think of their bad apples? -- it is a shonda. Clearly something has been terribly wrong in Postville. For goodness sakes, the owner just fired his son, who was the CEO, and now is seeking a new CEO.

So let us not remain silent. Let us explain that a mashgiach, like the USDA, certifies the meat, not the documentation of workers. Let us explain that Americans go to supermarkets and Home Depot stores, and we receive help from workers whose accents suggest they were not born here. Yes, theoretically, they may be undocumented. But we do not ask questions. No one checks. We assume that the people in Human Resources ("HR") have checked the papers. Similarly, we assume that the Postville slaughterhouse has someone in HR who checks the documents. Let us explain that a mashgiach who certifies kosher slaughter has no right and no business encroaching on HR.

This is what we must explain to the public. In the federal government, one agency checks workplace safety – OSHA. Another checks compliance with discrimination – EEOC. Another checks compliance with environmental concerns – EPA. It is not fair to mashgichim, who have their hands full protecting our access to kosher-slaughtered and -checked meat, to expect them to do so much else. Even among the secular government agencies, the officials who check the meat – USDA – do not have to check compliance with building codes, documentation of workers, etc.

We must explain that a large corporation typically has a Human Resources department. “H.R.” is a common reference in corporate parlance. HR assigns workers, checks documentation, gathers W2 forms, oversees whatever benefits, if any, are paid, assures compliance with minimum wage laws, settles disputes among workers, makes sure that all those annoying posters that no one ever reads are posted in the proper font and typeface, advises on terminations, etc. Therefore, when a federal INS raid reveals that 300-plus employees apparently have gotten jobs despite false, forged documentation, there is something scandalously wrong at HR. First and foremost, the HR director has much to answer.

When a markedly Jewish business is conducted as a model of decency, we all stand prouder, as we did when Aaron Feuerstein, the employer in New England, took care of and continued paying his idled employees while he was rebuilding his burned down factory. Yeshiva University proudly advertised his story. We were so proud. We were a light unto the nations.

And an important lesson may be derived for the future: It may be worthwhile for kashrut-certifying agencies in the future to modify their business contracts with food producers, instituting a policy that, while rabbonim and mashgichim do not and will not check businesses for their adherence to ethics, such businesses will need to know – as part of their respective kashrut contracts – that any convictions for ethical violations that transcend a certain rubicon will result in immediate withdrawal of the kashrut certification. Just as a business that is open on Shabbat scares away the vast majority of kashrut certifiers, so a business that is exposed as run unethically should be denied kashrut certification.

Clergy Abuse: The Other Kind

The Other Kind of Clergy Abuse:
When Congregants with Social Pathologies Abuse Their Clergy


During my fifteen years in the practicing rabbinate and ten years as a practicing attorney, I have encountered – both first-hand and, as a result of my open discussion of those experiences, through the parallel and often horrifying experiences that many colleagues and even clients have shared with me – a whispered subject that shames American Jewish life: Clergy Abuse. In its Jewish dimension, I use the term “Clergy Abuse” to describe the shameful, disgraceful, and painful efforts by certain laity to destroy their clergy: their rabbis, their cantors, and others among their klei kodesh.

These abusive and destructive efforts are advanced through many forms and vehicles, primarily including disseminating libel and slander, character assassination, and building of alliances through social groupings, carpools, and even the weekly coffee klatch, bowling match, or poker game. Thus, if one is a strong enough personality and imposes enough intensity on his or her social grouping, a dominating environment can influence others in the social subgroup to join along, if only for the social equanimity of the group and its dynamics. Soon, people with children the same age and attending the same school, or simply carpooling together, join the dynamic.

The phenomenon of Clergy Abuse, as directed against rabbis, is discussed with refreshing honesty and pinpoint accuracy in Chapter 22 of Rabbi Berel Wein’s latest volume, Tending the Vineyard (N.Y.: Shaar Press, 2007). Nor is this tragic and disgusting phenomenon unique to Jews. See, e.g., G. Lloyd Rediger, Clergy Killers: Guidance for Pastors and Congregations Under Attack (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997); Kenneth C. Haugk, Antagonists in the Church: How to Identify and Deal with Destructive Conflict (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Publishing House, 1988).

In classic literature, the stage, and screen, one is reminded of the tragic figures of Sir Thomas More (“A Man for All Seasons”) and St. Thomas Beckett, notwithstanding certain historical inaccuracies in the respective representations. Even outside theology, the phenomenon parallels social tragedies reflected by the dynamics so well captured in Henrik Ibsen’s “An Enemy of the People,” in which Dr. Thomas Stockmann finds himself targeted for destruction.

Through the many stories I have heard from colleagues – ranging from Reform, Reconstructionist, and Conservative rabbis to Orthodox rabbonim – and transcending Judaism to include Catholic priests, Christian pastors, and Protestant ministers -- I have come to wonder whether our American Jewish secular organizations were similarly plagued by destructive internal politics of this nature during the Holocaust years. People on boards of directors -- driven by their own personal needs for recognition by the Group, their inadequacies or their needs to manipulate others like marionettes, their needs to draw attention to themselves or to demonstrate, for their spouses or their children, their supposed importance -- with personal social pathologies so engrossing that they would have distracted their organizations from focusing full 100% attention on saving Jews on the bring of Holocaust in Europe.

And, a bit to my shock (and a bit not), my research reflects that, indeed, the internal politics of destruction existed in the 1940s and deterred American Jewish organizations from effecting rescue at maximum force and full throttle – at a time when 12,000 Jews went to the ovens in East Europe every day.

To this day, every time I meet a rav who now is a full-time stock broker, a full-time realtor, an entrepreneur with a storefront business or an export-import firm (not to mention a lawyer, an accountant, or even a therapist) -- and I then ask why the rav left the rabbinate --the answer always is the same. He did not leave to make more money, although he has found he makes more money. He did not lose interest in his desire to serve G-d.

Rather, in case after case, I have learned that he is but one more Jew recovering from Clergy Abuse.

Courage Under Fire: How a Jew Handles Gossipers

COURAGE UNDER FIRE: SO HOW DOES A JEW RESPOND WHEN CAUGHT UNEXPECTEDLY IN A LOSHON HORO ENVIRONMENT?

One of the most difficult aspects of Jewish life is dealing with the grave sin of loshon horo (gossiping even when true, tale-bearing). The Chofetz Chaim, author of the Mishneh B’rurah compendium on the Shulkhan Arukh that serves as the defining halakhic work for Ashkenazic Jewry in the modern era, nevertheless attached his name to his other great life’s work – on the laws of loshon horo. He felt that tackling the complexity of loshon horo law was the greater contribution he made in his lifetime. So he took his great sobriquet from a verse couplet in Tehillim (Psalms 34:13-14): “Who is the man who desires life, (mi ha-ish he-chofetz chaim) who loves days to see good? Restrain your tongue from evil and your lips from manipulation.” And HaRav Yisroel Meir Kagan HaKohen, zt”l, took for himself the name “Chofetz Chaim” as the name by which he would be remembered.

The laws of loshon horo are numerous. For example, with Ehud Barak recently having announced that he is seeking to return to political leadership in Israel, it is not at all
loshon horo to remind people of how Israel fared the last time he led the Jewish State. It is not loshon horo to speak of Neturei Karta – the clowns in Hasidic garb who attend Fatah events and Holocaust Denial conferences to ally with our enemies – with the utmost contempt. It is not loshon horo to refer to Jimmy Karta, the 39th American President and a bigot against the State of Israel, with the utmost contempt. When someone inquires whether a fellow or lady is suitable as a pending wedding match or as a business partner, the halakhah permits -- indeed, requires -- utmost candor. There are many more examples of these principles.

On the other hand, in a different context, even a “roll of the eyes” can be a grave sin. Or a smirk. Or a snicker. When the intention is to reduce a person a notch by conveying a negative meaning that is forbidden under halakhah, the conveyor of the loshon horo can lose his place in the World to Come for all eternity. And, for good measure, Rav Avigdor Miller zt”l teaches that the conveyor and transmitter of the loshon horo is saddled with all the sins and punishment of the person he intends to degrade.

The challenge that is most difficult for most of us is how to respond when, unexpectedly, we find ourselves caught in a loshon horo environment. One time, Ellen and I were invited to a Shabbat dinner at someone’s home. Other guests were invited, too. As often happens at a Shabbat table, conversation ensued, shifting from one Jewish subject to another. Suddenly, the discussion moved into laws of kashrut and, from there, into one person’s ridiculing a Rav who grants kashrut certifications. The discussion reached beyond nuanced philosophical differences of rabbinical schools of thought – for example, some halakhic authorities are stricter about Cholov Yisroel than are others – and transcended into loshon horo and, worse, hotza’at shem ra’ (outright slander).

Loshon horo is an infection, very contagious, so much so that it needs to be quarantined. It sneaks into a conversation, often introduced cleverly and surreptitiously by someone whose agenda – whose personal axe-to-grind – manipulates the discussion into that direction. And, as happened that night at that Shabbat table, Ellen and I suddenly and unexpectedly found ourselves embedded in a loshon horo environment. This prominent Rav was being derided and smeared by a person who absolutely did not know what he was talking about. We were caught off-guard.

But what to do? What indeed to do? To make a scene? To break the ambiance? To ruin dessert? What to do? Because, alas, silence is often tantamount to agreement.

In the “Harry Potter” series of children’s books, author J.K. Rowling puts a profound thought into the mouth of one of her characters: “It takes courage to stand up to your enemies. It takes even greater courage to stand up to your friends.” And that is indeed the only prescriptive that exists in the face of finding oneself in that bind.

To speak up – because silence is not an option. To risk losing a friend – because losing Paradise is not an option. To realize that someone willing to jeopardize your place in the World to Come may just not be the best friend in your rolodex.

In the movie “Gentleman’s Agreement,” a 1950s-era Oscar winner as Best Picture for its depiction of a non-Jewish journalist who poses as a Jew in snooty Connecticut and Manhattan to learn from an insider’s perspective that Jew-hatred exists even among the upper crust, there is a memorable scene. A non-Jewish woman, late in the movie, recounts that she was enjoying dinner as an invited guest at a dinner table, breaking bread with such upper crust, when someone started telling anti-Jewish jokes. She angrily recounts the incident later, among a group of people who oppose anti-Semitism, telling them approximately these words: “I was so mad. You have no idea. I was furious.”

And, then, one of those listening to her recount her outrage asks: "Did you speak out? Did you object to that humor? Did you convey your sentiments in any way?” And she responds, her face looking down into her napkin, “No. I sat there silently. I allowed it to continue. I did not have the courage to speak out.”

Loshon horo is the ultimate anti-Semitism, a violation of the essence of Torah values, emanating from within the Jewish community, derogating one or more Jewish souls, assassinating an innocent Jew’s character, causing pain and suffering to its victims and targets, to family and friends. Even as it threatens the eternal souls of those drawn within its ambit, often innocent bystanders caught unexpectedly in the oral terrorist’s cross-fire.

The only way to respond, when unexpectedly finding oneself caught in a loshon horo environment, is to speak out with courage. To say “My spouse and I did not come here to listen to this. Nor do we want our children exposed to this poisonous environment. We reject what is being said. And if it happens again, we will leave this environment and not return.”

That is courage under fire, Jewish-style.

Stop Shul Poker Games & Casino Nights

Forbidding Shul-Related Poker Games, "Las Vegas Nights," "Casino Gambling Nights," and Similar Events

It long has been my halakhic position that all synagogues should not – and many synagogues may not – sponsor, conduct, participate in, or otherwise associate with poker games, “Las Vegas Nights,” “Casino Gambling” events, or other such events.

As I have gotten to know Jewish communities outside main Torah centers, my position has solidified further that, at such places and at such times in Shuls’ and Jewish communities’ evolutions, such an halakhic position prohibiting these events is mandated. In reaching my opinion, grounded in several authoritative halakhic sources, I note a policy statement written for the benefit of both the laity and the rabbinate and adopted two years ago by the convened membership of the Rabbinical Council of America (RCA).

The RCA resolution is not singularly determinative of those deeply grounded views. But I do share it, hopeful that it helps shed an aspect of light on this issue of national significance.

Gambling as Communal Fundraising Vehicle: RCA Calls Upon Communal Institutions to Desist from Using High-Stakes Gambling to Raise Funds (Newark, NJ) May 17, 2005 --

Whereas gambling in general, and card games involving significant wagering
such as poker in particular, have received tremendous public attention as a
result of numerous depictions in the media of both gaming professionals as well
as popular celebrities engaging in high-stakes games of chance; and,

Whereas certain Jewish communal institutions – e.g., synagogues, day
schools, federations, and other Jewish fraternal organizations - have recently
placed an increased emphasis upon offering “Las Vegas” nights and poker games as
a new way to raise significant funds; and,

Whereas it is readily apparent that high stakes gambling runs counter to
Jewish values; and,

Whereas Jewish communal organizations must always model appropriate ethical
and moral standards not only as they carry out their mandates, but also as they
promote themselves, especially when encouraging Jews to participate in specific
activities for fundraising purposes; and,

Whereas the Orthodox community recognizes that the alarming, “at-risk”
behavior of many adolescents, including excessive gambling, is in part fostered
by the well-publicized activities of their adult role-models and of the Jewish
institutions of their communities:

Therefore, the Rabbinical Council of America hereby calls upon all Jewish
communal institutions not to use gambling as a fundraising vehicle and to seek
alternative fundraising methods instead, even if they thereby raise less
money.

On Bars and Mitzvahs

On Bars and Mitzvahs

"If I had the power, I would annul the bar mitzvah ceremony as it is observed in our country because it is known that this ceremony has not brought anyone closer to the Torah and the commandments - not even the boy himself, not even for one hour. On the contrary, in many places, it actually brings [participants] to desecrate the Sabbath and to commit other transgressions. . . ."

With these words, HaRav HaGaon HaRav Moshe Feinstein, who along with HaRav HaGaon HaRav Yosef Ber Soloveitchik was one of the two preeminent Torah sages of the past half century, gave expression to the deep frustration felt by so many American Jewish spiritual leaders who have watched the institution of the "Bar Mitzvah" spiral away from its historic religious moorings. Where it once existed to introduce a Jewish boy into the obligations of religious manhood, it now serves all-too-often as the youngster's exit door from further Jewish study.

The Bar Mitzvah should be a spiritually rewarding and religiously meaningful stepping-stone along the path of a Jewish Day School education. It should be a moment for formalizing Torah knowledge and religious responsibility and practice. Instead, the contemporary American bar mitzvah is the stuff of material excess and secular parody. Often, it is vile. The rabbi is lost amid the photographer, the videographer, the orchestra, the florist, and the Grand Caterer. And the boy ("bar mitzvah") or girl ("bat mitzvah") is lost even more hopelessly. The ceremony should focus on preparing the child to address the congregational community, speaking wisely about the Torah portion and about Jewish spiritual values. Instead, too many parents are satisfied merely with handing the child a tape recording of an Haftorah portion and telling the poor child to memorize chanting it with a transliterated text.

The Haftorah ultimately becomes a passing comet in the Jewish child's life that, like Haley's and other such, may reasonably be expected to pass through the Western horizon for four minutes once every several years. If one looks at the right place at the right moment, one may briefly detect it: "Uh, I think that was my bar mitzvah haftorah that just passed by. Did you see it?" But if he or she steps out for a moment, or turns the wrong way, it will have passed for another year. The Haftorah Comet.

In nearly ten years as a congregational rabbi and a yeshiva faculty member, I never met a single child who spoke fondly of the bar mitzvah party as a spiritually meaningful event. At best, it is remembered with a smile. More often, it is recalled with profound disdain, even contempt.

Why do we Jews try passing along our heritage to our children, in the first place?

For some, it is because we believe that G-d created the universe, put us here for a holy purpose, and challenged us to be worthy of His selection by living the Torah life. So we want to teach that Torah to our children, to pass on the central message of our existence. For others less religious among us, we instead seek primarily to preserve a precious culture or memories of a family history. In one way or another, we feel we have something meaningful to transmit. None of this is transmitted in the bar mitzvah party.

Rather, the bar mitzvah becomes an occasion for material excess, often garishness and ostentatious waste, and frequently a fiscal undertaking that presses a family to its financial limits. It is not about the Haftorah but about the smorgasbord, not about the Torah but about the liquor selection and the floral display. Thus, it is not about the mitzvah but about the bar. And it is not about the rabbi's role in influencing the child's spiritual evolution but about the caterer's sculpted presentation of chopped liver.

Even if we all were fantastically wealthy, we could not countenance spending obsessively and excessively on these four-hour events. However, many parents cannot in the first place afford the affairs they sponsor. To finance them, they borrow heavily. They apply for tuition scholarships from the Jewish Day Schools where their children study, hoping to win community financial assistance to help offset their efforts to equal their neighbors' affairs. The yeshiva tuition application forms typically inquire whether the family spends money on luxurious vacations, fancy cars, and expensive homes. Curiously, yeshivas do not explore the family's spending on bar mitzvahs.

I was lucky. We reared our children in modest communities where many families are more traditional and choose to skip the excessive galas, focusing instead on teaching the children the Torah portions and their rich Jewish heritage, preparing them to address the community on Bat or Bar Mitzvah Day with words of Torah. So, for our children, we invited their friends and our immediate family. We spent some money, made nice kiddush luncheons on Shabbat day. And our children felt enriched and special. None felt deprived. Several years later, for whatever issues my children may feel we could have done better as parents, none of my three daughters has expressed regret that her Bat Mitzvah was celebrated modestly.

In many ways, the contemporary Bar Mitzvah spectacle evidences a generation whose rabbis lack the courage and greatness to lay down the law. When a rabbinical body wants adherents to eat only a particular type of meat, that body knows how to inspire and enforce community discipline. They can declare kosher meat unacceptable and enforce adherence. They can convince parents to buy black fedoras for boys, and impose social stigma against the un-fedora'd. In some communities, they can create a social pressure to hang a certain rabbi's picture in living rooms and in restaurants near the cash register. Rabbinical boards can define and legislate standards of community kashrut, Sabbath observance, and so much more.

But when it comes to clamping down on the horribly disturbing material excesses of the American Bar Mitzvah Machine, there is virtually no rabbinical leadership, no greatness, no courage. Just tacit shoulder-shrugging. "I am only the rabbi here. What can I do?"

In part, rabbinical weakness lies with the nature of synagogue funding. Many congregations rely on in-house catering for significant financing. They make money off Bar Mitzvahs, much as they do off the in-house Bingo games that other religions brought to America and from dice-rolling, wheel-spinning Las Vegas Nights. It is hard to turn away a golden goose, even if the fleecing is patent.

Still, in my twenty years of community leadership, I have never once met a single young person who felt inspired by the bar mitzvah party. Even as I look back on my own bash that paralleled those of all my friends back in the 1960s, I remain grateful solely for the $250 that my parents paid Mr. Golub to teach me to chant the Torah portion in accordance with the traditional cantillation. I have put that skill to use many dozens, perhaps hundreds, of times since. By contrast, I do not remember what was served at the smorgasbord or which flowers were displayed.

I do, however, seem to remember that the color pattern was blue.