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For two thousand years of exile, our people have prayed.  We have prayed – not to return to the land of Israel, but to return to the holy city of Jerusalem, Yerushalayim Ir HaKodesh!  “Please turn Your wrath and anger away from Jerusalem, Your holy mountain…And now, our G-d, heed Your servant’s prayer and pleas, and let Your face shine on Your desolate Sanctuary, for Your sake, O Lord…” (Tachanun Prayer)
When Jews began to return to the land of Israel after the destruction of the first temple, Nechemiah came to the land of Israel and saw a community in crisis.  What was the cause of their difficult situation?  Nothing other than the degradation of Jerusalem: “The remnant that are left of the captivity there are in great affliction and reproach; the wall of Jerusalem also is broken down, and the gates thereof are burned with fire…” (Nechemiah 1:3) When Jerusalem is desolate, so are we; only with its rebuilding can our people regain its strength.
When the Independence War ended in 1948 with the Old City of Jerusalem in Jordanian control, our joy was muted; when Jerusalem was liberated nineteen years later, our joy knew no bounds!  Even today, 53 years later, every Jewish heart beats faster when we hear those awesome words: “Har HaBayit b’Yadeinu”, “The Temple Mount is in our hands!”
Yom Yerushalayim, the return of our people to our holy city, is not merely a miracle of our generation; it is a miracle that belongs to all generations.  As R’ Abraham Joshua Heschel wrote, “We did not enter the city of Jerusalem on our own in 1967.  Streams of endless crying, endless praying, clinging, dreaming, day and night, midnights, years, decades, centuries, millennia, streams of tears, pledging, waiting – […]

As the Talmud famously relates, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai was once overheard criticizing the Roman regime, and when his comments were reported to the Roman authorities, he was forced to flee for his life.  Without telling anyone of their whereabouts, Rabbi Shimon and his son hid in a cave, where they were sustained by a spring of fresh water and a carob tree that had miraculously sprung up at the entrance to the cave. For twelve years, Rabbi Shimon and his son studied and prayed without interruption, until they became the holiest sages of their day.

After twelve intense years, the prophet Eliyahu brought them good tidings; there was a change in the Roman government, and it was now safe to emerge from the cave and return to society.  Rabbi Shimon and his son left the cave, and soon passed a field where they saw Jewish farmers working the land.  Shocked by such mundane activities, they said, “How can people give up the sacred study of the Torah (חיי עולם, eternal life) for worldly matters (חיי שעה, temporal life)?!”  As soon as they uttered these words, all the produce of the field erupted in flames!  Immediately, a voice from heaven spoke to Rabbi Shimon and his son: “Have you come out to destroy My world? Go back to your cave!”  And so they returned to the cave for another twelve months, only leaving when they heard the same heavenly voice calling them to leave.

Upon leaving the cave for the second time, they saw an older Jew carrying two bunches of myrtle, rushing to get home on Friday afternoon.  Curious, they asked the man what the myrtle was for. “It is to adorn my house in honor of the Shabbat,” the […]

Orthodox Lite?

For as long as I can remember, anxious leaders and thinkers in our community have been asking the same question: can our community – the Modern Orthodoxy community of America – survive?  But in recent years, as the broader American population has become increasingly polarized in its political and cultural views, “centrist” orthodoxy seems, more than ever, to have lost its luster.

Numerically, the Modern Orthodox make up only 3% of American Jewry – perhaps 175,000 Jews altogether – a number which has remained static for some time, and which is far smaller than the growing Yeshivish and Chassidic communities.  Some of our children leave Orthodoxy altogether – an all too common, and painful, phenomenon – while others join the Yeshivish community, which also weakens the community they leave behind.  Finally, many of our most dedicated young people make Aliyah, a source of great pride for our community, but one which deprives American Modern Orthodoxy of its most passionate and idealistic future leaders.

But beyond numbers, the more significant question is whether there is a compelling reason to remain a part of this community altogether.  Why, exactly, would one choose to live their life as a Modern Orthodox Jew?

The financial pressures that go hand in hand with Modern Orthodoxy, with yeshiva day school tuition at the top of the list, are enough to make many people think twice before joining the community.  Compared to public school, or even right wing yeshivas, the costs are astronomical.

And in return, what do we get?  Though we enjoy schmoozing with our friends at Shul, the Tefillah experience itself isn’t exactly inspiring, to put it kindly.  Lacking the passion and joy found in many Chassidic communities, many adults join their […]