I Am Traditionally Observant, Not Orthodox: My Religious Evolution (Part II)

(Part I)

It should be understood that the fact that I was emotionally invested in Judaism did not mean that there was no intellectual component; there certainly was. It is just that I never would have developed that intellectual side unless I was already strongly motivated to do so. My high school self was influenced by the essays of Samson Raphael Hirsch, the Hertz Chumash, and the biblical commentary of Isaac Abarbanel. (The latter was due to the influence of Rabbi Aaron Lopiansky.) While I had no interest in studying Gemara, I was eager to study Tanach. If only I had a school system that replaced morning Gemara study with Tanach. 

The consistent thread between these religious interests of mine was that I wanted a religion that embraced classical liberalism and the encounter with the secular. Keep in mind that high school me, despite being more conservative than present me both politically and religiously, was someone who loved reading about the Civil War and World War II as well as large helpings of science fiction and fantasy. I supported democracy and not a theocracy. I had no intention of going into the rabbinate. I wanted to be a history professor. I needed a theology that validated interacting with the secular world. 

From Hirsch, I got Torah im Derech Eretz that to be a Mensch Yisroel was to be able to succeed in secular terms and to be an observant Jew. From the Hertz Chumash I took the notion that the Torah was the source of classical liberal values. It was the Torah that could save liberalism from decaying into the modern left. Abarbanel's life was a model (even if a tragic one) of a Jew who could succeed politically in the outside world. His commentary integrated the Jewish exegetical tradition with philosophy, offering a world in which they could co-exist. 

With this in mind, it should not be surprising that I read Tanach much in the way as early Americans. What I found was a source for a personal connection to God unconnected to the rabbis in school, most of whom I did not care for, as well as a model for politics that was infused with religious values while respecting individual liberty.    

If my father carries the blame for trapping me in a Haredi school like the Yeshiva of Greater Washington, he does deserve the credit for getting me into Yeshiva University. Several days before school started in the fall of 2001 (right before 9/11), I was back from Israel and floating from day to day. My father called a friend of his in admissions, drove me up to New York and I suddenly found myself accepted. My five years at YU were the best in my life. YU was a great place for me because over there I made sense. I was not just a weird kid hiding behind a pile of books but the embodiment of what the school stood for, embracing secular studies as a religious enterprise. 

Academically, I was privileged to study with Rabbi Shalom Carmy and Prof. Louis Feldman. I have written here before about Feldman. Carmy was the ultimate academic jack of all trades, teaching anything involving the bible or philosophy. (He also was the resident Jew on a Catholic think tank.) I believe it was Carmy who got me interested in the non-Narnia C. S. Lewis. The really great thing about being in Carmy's classes was that he would host his office ours in the cafeteria during lunch and students would gather around him and discussions would go all over the place. As a tutor, what I aspire to offer is some version of that experience with Carmy. I have read and comprehended only a small fraction of what was in Carmy's head but I do my best. 

At a social level, I benefited from being part of the YCDS theater group under the direction of Dr. Anthony Beukas. This gave me a group of cool kids who liked me and took an interest in my welfare. Theater is useful for the maturation of geeks as it offers a bridge to take the geek, with his ability to consume information, and turn that talent into a means of self-expression. I often advise students, going into college, to make sure that they are involved in some kind of a club like a theater group. The great challenge of college is that no one is looking after you. You can sleep all day and no one will lift a finger to stop you or tell you that you are doing anything wrong until the moment you discover that you have failed your classes. You need someone who is going to make a point to look after you and the best way to do that is to be involved in something they care about like their club.    

Beukas was the kind of teacher every student should have once in their life. More than once may be a little too much because, and let me be very clear about this, Beukas was an SOB. Now he may have been a perfect gentleman in his private life but, as a teacher, he subscribed to the drill sergeant/tiger mom method of teaching and it was frustrating and often downright emotionally abusive. Having said that, Beukas was certainly a great teacher and I am grateful for what he did for me. 

Beukas operated on the theory that we all suffered from what he liked to call "the yeshiva shuffle." In essence, we had gotten by with everyone thinking we were wonderful because we were nice and nothing more was ever expected from us. No one had ever demanded excellence from us. It was his job, even if he had to make himself the villain and cause us to hate him, to make us hold ourselves to a higher standard. One could respond that this is also the problem with modern liberal education. So what, Judaism should aspire to something higher. 

What Beukas offered was one of the most important critics of Orthodox Judaism I had ever encountered. Was Orthodoxy simply a deal in which one agreed to go along with the system and, in return, you can be considered a success without putting in a true effort? This was not something that could be countered through clever apologetics.