Jewish Observer on Daas Torah

I thought this was a nice summary of the Daas Torah view on Gedolim:

The Jewish Observer, June 2006, Volume XXXIX No. 5 p. 31

Shlomo Gottesman - “Nothing is hard if you will it”: Travels with Rabbi Aaron Leib Shteinman שליט"א

“Zeh sefer toldos haAdam.” The Midrash explains that the Ribbono shel Olam showed Adam every generation and its leaders: dor dor umanhigav. Those manhigim, sometimes not well-known until they step in to leadership positions, were imbued from creation with a special siyata dishmaya and the foresight to see the complex exigencies of Jewish history on a multi-dimensional plane. Their vision necessarily includes the future implications of current decision making, with all the attendant subtle ramifications. In the merit of the tzibbur and the Torah, they are given the strengths and skills to shoulder the awesome achrayus that comes with their position. We might not always be privy to or understand their thought process, but our confidence in them is the raison d'etre of emunas chachamin, and one of the bedrocks of our theological structure.

Rav Soloveitchik on Religious Pluralism

"The fourth question remains to be considered. Should we perhaps relinquish our rights as a religious group in this matter because of complications which might arise on the level of public relations? The answer is definitely in the negative. Let me elaborate this thesis. The Jewish religion has never monopolized the media of salvation nor has it identified itself with the intolerant doctrine of religious catholicity. In other words, it never maintained that our faith is destined to become universal in order to save mankind from damnation. Our prophets and scholars have taught that all men who live in accordance with Divine moral standards will share in the transcendental summum bonum which was promised to God-fearing and God-loving people - hasidei umot ha-olam yesh lahem helek le-olam ha-ba.

However, this tolerant philosophy of transcendental universalism does not exclude the specific awareness of the Jews of the supremacy of their faith over all others. As a matter of fact, the act of appraising the worth of one's particular religious experience on the highest axiological level constitutes the very essence of the transcendental performance. The religious consciousness, by its very nature, is endowed with a charismatic quality. The homo religiosus is convinced that his unique relationship with God is the noblest and finest, and he is ready to bring the supreme sacrifice for the preservation of his religious identity. The feeling of axiological equality of all faiths as a component of the individual religious experience is a contradicto in objecto. Religious tolerance asserts itself in the knowledge of the existence of a variety and plurality of God-experiences and in the recognition that each individual is entitled to evaluate his great unique performance as the most redeeming and uplifting one. Tolerance has never demanded of the religious personage to eliminate the sense of axiological centrality from his feelings. This is exactly the standpoint of the Halakhah which maintains that, while it is forbidden to impose our faith upon others by force, it is our sacred duty to defend our convictions against any onslaught, even at the expense of our very lives."

Soloveitchik, Rabbi Joseph B. Community, Covenant, and Commitment: Selected Letters and Communications of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik. (ed.: Nathaniel Helfgot), Jersey City: Published for the Toras HoRav Foundation by Ktav Pub. House, 2005. pp.21-22

The righteous - forsaken?

ADDeRabbi has an interesting post on lying in the liturgy. His third example (I hope to return to the first two) refers to the line from Tehillim that we say at the end of Bentching

"I was young and now I am old,
yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken
or his children begging for bread."

I commented on this post with reference to a beautiful thought found in Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, The Chief Rabbi's Haggadah, pages 66-67. I feel the thought is worth repeating here (not least so I can find it again when necessary):

This line, from Psalm 37:25 has often raised questions. Surely throughout history there were times when the righteous were forsaken? Indeed this is one of the questions that, according to the Talmud, Moses asked God: “Why do the righteous suffer?” The English writer Edmond Blunden wrote a poem, Report on Experience, on this theme:

I have been young, and now I am not so old;
And I have seen the righteous forsaken,
His health, his honour and his quality taken.
This is not what we were formerly told.

I once heard a beautiful explanation from R. Moses Feuerstein of Boston. The key phrase of the verse is lo ra’iti, standardly translated as ‘I have not seen’. The verb ra’iti, though, occurs twice in the Book of Esther with a quite different meaning. ‘How can I bear to watch (eichachah uchal vera’iti) the disaster which will befall my people? And how can I bear to watch the destruction of my family?’ (Esther 8:6). The verb does not mean ‘to see’. It means ‘to stand by and watch, to be a passive witness, a disengaged spectator’. Ra’iti in this sense means to stand by and do nothing to help. That, for Esther as for the Psalmist, is a moral impossibility. We may not ‘stand idly by the blood of our neighbour’. We are our brother’s keeper.

Translated thus, the verse states: ‘I was young, and now I am old, and I have not merely stood still and watched when the righteous was forsaken and his children forced to beg for bread.’ Read this way, not only does it make sense, it also emerges from the core of Jewish sensibility. It ends the grace after meals with a moral commitment. Yes, we have eaten and are satisfied. But that has not made us indifferent to the needs of others.