Thoughts of a Disillusioned Jew Part Two of Three, by Rabbi shmuel gluck:
Before I explain the process people should take to gravitate towards a Torah based lifestyle I want to remove some of the commonly seen points of resistance. You mentioned one of them, and I’d like to dedicate some time to it. People won’t increase their appreciation for a Torah lifestyle if they feel it’s faulty. You wrote: “I experienced the disillusionment of the humanity of religion, people being in it, and the contradictions involved.”
Although, the Rabbi’s may not have done anything wrong, nevertheless, people have built them up into being more than human. One student of mine was surprised that I ate finger food with my fingers. I stopped doing it in public, not because it’s wrong, but because people have an exaggerated, and sometimes such an exaggerated view that it distorts the reality, and expectation, of Rabbis. From my perspective, I find it unfair not to allow me to be human, although I accept it graciously, (most of the time).
Sometimes, a Rabbi may do something inappropriate. What needs to be determined is whether a fault of a follower (the Rabbi) represents a fault in the system (Hashem and his Torah). People must ask themselves, why they become disillusioned with an entire system because a part of the system is faulty. A broad condemnation by people is self-serving, and they believe that it releases them from their religious responsibilities towards Hashem. People accept or, at least, don’t reject, democracy despite its flaws. They shake their head at the individual, and find someone else in whom to believe.
We also need to ask ourselves whether the fault found in this follower (Rabbi) deserves his complete condemnation. The fault may have been a classical human error, a common typical act, except that it was done by a Rabbi. When this happens, they’re often judged too harshly. Does his positive character outweigh his negatives? Did the behavior show evil intent, or was it an oversight, something that’s easy to forgive? A common consideration should be whether the Rabbi, who may have shown a lack of character, would have demonstrated even less character without his Torah background. I know many community leaders with faults. However, I clearly see how the Torah has improved them, even if it hasn’t (yet) made them perfect people.
At other times the resentment against those who are supposed to represent Torah may be the result of people who may feel slighted. Was the Rabbi right in what he did? While the hurt feeling may be natural, it may blind people from being objective? Did he attempt to apologize, even if it was only indirectly?
I think that a part of the issue is that people see the Torah as rigid, and not fluid; and its followers as an institution, and not as individuals. Thinking this way won’t allow people to be practical. The Torah has Halachos, laws. Many laws are based on ideal situations, but some are for less than ideal situations. This doesn’t mean that the Torah is “changing its mind”. These adjustments are based on Halachic guidelines. Rabbinical laws are, in many cases, even more flexible. Nevertheless, they shouldn’t be seen as “the Rabbis say/do what they want”. They’re also based on Halachic guidelines.
The followers of the Torah are people, and not institutions. They’re also human. They have to carpool like the rest of us. They become impatient when they’re tired, and may have wives who complain that they spend too much time with people who won’t listen to them, and aren’t appreciative. These examples, and others, will take a toll on people whom we respect. Sometimes, the people who are critical are the same ones who don’t listen to their advice and don’t appreciate their Rabbi. When people see them as institutions, with rigid expectations, they remove their right to demonstrate human imperfection. Seeing them as people will allow for empathy, and sensitivity, on the part of their students/congregants.
If you allow me to ramble and continue speaking of my peers, I find it interesting that many of them voice the complaints that those in need call them when they have problems, but never call them back when the advice they were given was helpful. The Rabbi is left wondering, and worried, about what happened. Although the Rabbis see themselves as people, those who ask for help, see them as institutions.
While I know that the Torah is perfect, people shouldn’t conclude that its followers are also perfect. I’ve grappled with some Rabbis who didn’t keep their words. I recognize that we’re all human and, instead of being critical, I’ll take a deep breath and move on, without drawing broad conclusions. I do this because I’m afraid that too many people will find out that I’m also only human.
It’s important to understand why our view of Rabbis is an unfair interpretation of our attitude towards a Torah lifestyle. Most people like, or dislike, something for the most peripheral, or biased, reasons. I remember buying my first car because it had a light between the two side doors. In the 80’s that was cool. Nevertheless, that’s not a legitimate reason to buy a car. People may immediately take a liking, or disliking, to someone because of the town from which they came. Does that make any sense?
Our experiences show that genuine reasons aren’t always valid ones. We can give up on something important for a reason which may be legitimate, but isn’t significant enough to change our attitude or behavior. For example, realizing that an employer isn’t as nice as you thought, is a legitimate reason to change your opinion of the employer and the job, but it doesn’t necessarily make it a legitimate reason to quit that job. Finding out that a Rabbi may have less than sterling character, and failed your expectations, may be a real conclusion, but it isn’t a valid explanation for rejecting a Torah lifestyle.
Once again, let me know your thoughts.
Although, the Rabbi’s may not have done anything wrong, nevertheless, people have built them up into being more than human. One student of mine was surprised that I ate finger food with my fingers. I stopped doing it in public, not because it’s wrong, but because people have an exaggerated, and sometimes such an exaggerated view that it distorts the reality, and expectation, of Rabbis. From my perspective, I find it unfair not to allow me to be human, although I accept it graciously, (most of the time).
Sometimes, a Rabbi may do something inappropriate. What needs to be determined is whether a fault of a follower (the Rabbi) represents a fault in the system (Hashem and his Torah). People must ask themselves, why they become disillusioned with an entire system because a part of the system is faulty. A broad condemnation by people is self-serving, and they believe that it releases them from their religious responsibilities towards Hashem. People accept or, at least, don’t reject, democracy despite its flaws. They shake their head at the individual, and find someone else in whom to believe.
We also need to ask ourselves whether the fault found in this follower (Rabbi) deserves his complete condemnation. The fault may have been a classical human error, a common typical act, except that it was done by a Rabbi. When this happens, they’re often judged too harshly. Does his positive character outweigh his negatives? Did the behavior show evil intent, or was it an oversight, something that’s easy to forgive? A common consideration should be whether the Rabbi, who may have shown a lack of character, would have demonstrated even less character without his Torah background. I know many community leaders with faults. However, I clearly see how the Torah has improved them, even if it hasn’t (yet) made them perfect people.
At other times the resentment against those who are supposed to represent Torah may be the result of people who may feel slighted. Was the Rabbi right in what he did? While the hurt feeling may be natural, it may blind people from being objective? Did he attempt to apologize, even if it was only indirectly?
I think that a part of the issue is that people see the Torah as rigid, and not fluid; and its followers as an institution, and not as individuals. Thinking this way won’t allow people to be practical. The Torah has Halachos, laws. Many laws are based on ideal situations, but some are for less than ideal situations. This doesn’t mean that the Torah is “changing its mind”. These adjustments are based on Halachic guidelines. Rabbinical laws are, in many cases, even more flexible. Nevertheless, they shouldn’t be seen as “the Rabbis say/do what they want”. They’re also based on Halachic guidelines.
The followers of the Torah are people, and not institutions. They’re also human. They have to carpool like the rest of us. They become impatient when they’re tired, and may have wives who complain that they spend too much time with people who won’t listen to them, and aren’t appreciative. These examples, and others, will take a toll on people whom we respect. Sometimes, the people who are critical are the same ones who don’t listen to their advice and don’t appreciate their Rabbi. When people see them as institutions, with rigid expectations, they remove their right to demonstrate human imperfection. Seeing them as people will allow for empathy, and sensitivity, on the part of their students/congregants.
If you allow me to ramble and continue speaking of my peers, I find it interesting that many of them voice the complaints that those in need call them when they have problems, but never call them back when the advice they were given was helpful. The Rabbi is left wondering, and worried, about what happened. Although the Rabbis see themselves as people, those who ask for help, see them as institutions.
While I know that the Torah is perfect, people shouldn’t conclude that its followers are also perfect. I’ve grappled with some Rabbis who didn’t keep their words. I recognize that we’re all human and, instead of being critical, I’ll take a deep breath and move on, without drawing broad conclusions. I do this because I’m afraid that too many people will find out that I’m also only human.
It’s important to understand why our view of Rabbis is an unfair interpretation of our attitude towards a Torah lifestyle. Most people like, or dislike, something for the most peripheral, or biased, reasons. I remember buying my first car because it had a light between the two side doors. In the 80’s that was cool. Nevertheless, that’s not a legitimate reason to buy a car. People may immediately take a liking, or disliking, to someone because of the town from which they came. Does that make any sense?
Our experiences show that genuine reasons aren’t always valid ones. We can give up on something important for a reason which may be legitimate, but isn’t significant enough to change our attitude or behavior. For example, realizing that an employer isn’t as nice as you thought, is a legitimate reason to change your opinion of the employer and the job, but it doesn’t necessarily make it a legitimate reason to quit that job. Finding out that a Rabbi may have less than sterling character, and failed your expectations, may be a real conclusion, but it isn’t a valid explanation for rejecting a Torah lifestyle.
Once again, let me know your thoughts.
The author can be contacted at shmuelgluck@areivim.com
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