Why the Bar Ilan Responsa Project can be bad for the Jews

In his recent article on the decision by certain rabbis to rule on complex issues rather than consult senior scholars, Rabbi Hershel Schachter condemned those who use searchable databases like Otzar haChochmah and the Bar Ilan Responsa Project in order to research topics and then think themselves experts.

To this some have responded that these searchable databases constitute a democratization of information which elevates more people to the level of being able to decide halachic matters.

The response is flawed by a fundamental error: mistaking learning-via-search for true knowledge handicaps the learning process and produces inferior results both in the particular researched topic and in one's broader Torah learning.

Full disclosure: I believe I was the first person, back in 1995, to create a free Internet-based tool which would enable people to search and find Torah sources they wanted – that was my WebShas (which I still hope to return to, and complete, someday...) I strongly believe it is important to create such tools and raise the general level of Torah learning. However, those who learn with such tools should never delude themselves into thinking that they are accomplishing true scholarship.

The scholarship needed to decide serious halachic matters requires that one find the sources not by searching for keywords (or by reading summaries in publications like the Journal of Halachah and Contemporary Society or Techumin, a practice which presents a related problem), but by learning, analyzing, absorbing and memorizing large amounts of primary text, and then bringing it to bear on these halachic matters as they come up.

Here are just a few reasons why searching Torah databases produces only the illusion of scholarship, and an inferior halachic analysis of any given topic:

Inferior Breadth of Knowledge

You only find what you set out to find. Rav Amital z"l of Gush Etzion is reported to have said that he learned the most from the pages before and after that which he sought when he opened a given text. I can say the same from my own narrow experience. If all you want is to read a responsum that mentions nashim and tefillin within 20 words of each other, then you will not see the preceding responsum - and if it lacks interesting keywords then it will be forever missing from your repertoire.

This is a particular problem when approaching meta-issues in psak. Many of the most pressing halachic issues of today require an understanding of themes like hefsed merubeh (great loss), she'at hadchak and broader klalei hapsak. But the major sources addressing these themes don't necessarily make reference to popular cases with attractive keywords; some of the best sources on hefsed merubeh deal with arcane matters of purity and impurity. And don't tell me you will search for the words hefsed merubeh - someone who is relying on search for his knowledge isn't going to read through the thousands of results he will find. (More on that under "Inferior Drive" below.)

Further: Reliance on searchable databases encourages people to study by topic, and so they rarely learn an entire sefer. Instead, they search for items related to the topics they want, and just study those. The result is a terrible poverty of true knowledge, and an inadequate basis for approaching new subjects.

And one more note in this category: Those who learn by search are at the mercy of the publishers. Of course, all of us are at the mercy of publishers; I am more apt to use a source on a source sheet if I can find it in a cut-and-paste text on hebrewbooks.org. And I learn Tosafos before I learn Rosh, because printers put that collection of Tosafos on the page of gemara. But if you rely on search not just for crafting a source sheet, but for your primary research, then all you have is whatever the publisher had on hand.

Inferior Comprehension

When I read a responsum from a writer whose broader work I do not know, I miss out on the meaning invested in the writer's choice of words and selection of sources. I can only compensate for this by learning more of the writer's work, to gain a greater familiarity and therefore a greater understanding. If all I know is the one piece that showed up in my search, then I really don't understand what the writer was getting at, and how it fits into a greater worldview.

Inferior Memory/Retention

Doing a search to find phrases involves less struggle. As scientists have been saying for years, information is retained better if it is processed in multiple ways; without struggle, little processing is needed. And if it's not retained, then you don't have a broad range of information in your head with which to make associations (see "Inferior Depth" below), or catch your own mistakes.

Further: When you find items by database search, you don't need to memorize them, because you can just find them again by searching; it's like GPS vs. directions, or Speed Dial vs. a phone book.

Inferior Drive

In an ideal world, everyone would have sufficient time to research topics in great depth, and to work at the text for however long was necessary in order to gain full understanding. Unfortunately, few of us set aside the time we really need to do things well, for we are greedy in our ambition to forever accomplish "more", and so we give on accomplishing "well". The result is that we take short cuts – and the searchable database is the shortest cut of all, and it is habit-forming. Once people become accustomed to relying on searches, they find it very difficult to do things right, from the ground up.

Inferior Depth

Using database searches means you don't need to analyze and study with depth and creativity in order to find new ideas and make new analogies. You may become an artificial Sinai, but you will lack the depth of understanding to make novel and necessary associations between sources that don't lend themselves to keyword searches.

This is the oker harim phenomenon which I have seen some mis-translate as being about "explaining sources and logic". A true oker harim finds the analogies that help us deal with new issues when they emerge – and this is the mark of a true posek. People whose knowledge of a subject comes from superficial searching will never have it.

There is more to be said, but I'll stop here for now.

Of Toys and Treasures and Hagbah and High School

[If you are interested in the Controversial Talmud panel discussion I mentioned here, it is now available on YUTorah.org here, and should be on Koshertube.com soon as well.]

I was recently asked for counsel on explaining to high school-aged boys that hagbah should not be a weight-lifting contest. I came up with the following idea:

The entities surrounding us may be defined, in their relationship with us, as either Treasures or Toys. Treasures are entities we serve; Toys are entities we use to serve ourselves. Or to say it more accurately, it's probably a spectrum of Treasures/Toys, and these entities fit somewhere on that spectrum. And of course, this is not only true regarding objects; this is also true regarding people.

Certain entities begin as Treasures, but evolve into Toys; familarity breeds contempt, after all. Therefore, we establish principles to guard ourselves from forgetting that these are Treasures: Human Dignity (כבוד הבריות), Honouring our Parents (כיבוד הורים), Domestic Peace (שלום בית).

When it comes to religion, we have the honour of the Torah (כבוד התורה), too, so that we don't touch the Torah directly, we don't sit on the same surface with it, and we lift it in a way that displays it to the community with respect. This is important; a religion that becomes a Toy is a poor religion, indeed.

Of course, the division between which items are Treasures and which items are Toys doesn't say much about the items themselves; after all, one man's Toy is another man's Treasure. However, it says a great deal about ourselves. If everything is my Toy, what does that say about me?

So here is my question to you, reader: I think this is a serviceable way to explain the special ways we conduct ourselves around and with a Torah scroll. But is it accurate? Or are there things which are neither Toy nor Treasure?

Capping the Cost of Jewish Education

This morning, the following email from UJA of Greater Toronto was in my in-box:

Innovative Pilot Project places a cap on cost of Jewish education

A new joint venture between UJA Federation of Greater Toronto, Robbins Hebrew Academy and The AVI CHAI Foundation may provide a major breakthrough in continuing to make Jewish education accessible and affordable to all.

iCAP Tuition, a ground-breaking initiative that will be offered at Robbins Hebrew Academy, will ensure that eligible families with three or more children at RHA and with a total gross income of between $200,000 and $300,000 will have their tuition capped at 15% of their income for Jewish education.

Applicable for students in Junior Kindergarten to Grade 8, iCAP Tuition augments UJA Federation’s current Tuition Assistance Program which provides financial relief to parents with a gross income of less than $200,000.

“We are excited to team up with Robbins Hebrew Academy and AVI CHAI Foundation on this exciting pilot, one that complements UJA Federation’s ongoing efforts to provide as many of our young people with a first-rate Jewish education,” says Ed Segalowitz, Executive Director, the Julia and Henry Koschitzky Centre for Jewish Education.

“Every Jewish child deserves the opportunity for the very best Jewish and secular education within the warmest of school communities, that’s what we offer here, at Robbins Hebrew Academy and it’s why we are making sure that Jewish families, no matter their financial background, can have their children educated with us,” says Claire Sumerlus, Head of School, Robbins Hebrew Academy.

It's an interesting idea. Googling the concept turned up this OU page, with a February 2013 report on use of this system at a school in the Boston area.

The core concept seems to be: To help families with large numbers of children manage, so that they don't give up on Jewish day school.

In both cases, the schools involved are not serving the Orthodox community, and I can see why an Orthodox-affiliated school, with the larger family sizes in its student body, would have difficulty implementing this and may not even feel it is as necessary. Nonetheless, it's nice to dream...

Why do you go to a shiur?

A couple of weeks ago I spoke to a group of Jewish and non-Jewish college students about Jewish life in North America, and as part of this I explained what our kollel does in Toronto. As part of the discussion, I was asked why adults come to classes.

I find this an interesting question, particularly because I believe that people learn more and gain stronger skills when they work with a chavrusa (study partner), as opposed to attending a shiur. I came up with several reasons for attending a class, including:

• It's a communal experience, bonding with friends;
• It's a way to publicly demonstrate religious commitment;
• It's a way to support the existence of such classes, which benefit the community as a whole;
• It's an opportunity to be in a safe Jewish environment, with people who share your background and ideas.

What else? Why do you go to shiur, as opposed to learning with a chavrusa?

The Kohen and the Teacher

The Dubna Magid (Ohel Yaakov to Parshat Naso) says that the Kohen, when he raises his hands and recites the words of birchas kohanim, is actually communicating a message to the community: Make yourselves worthy of HaShem's blessings.

To me, this presents the Kohen as an educator, and that triggered a thought for me this week: There are many parallels between the Kohen and the Teacher. [This aside from the actual role of kohanim as teachers, per Devarim 33:10 and more.]

The Kohen's arena is the Beit haMikdash, a building and campus permeated with the presence of the Shechinah, into which no impurity may be brought. The Kohen travels between clearly defined areas of greater and lesser sanctity, all devoted to the central purpose of facilitating the national and individual connection with the Divine. The nation is responsible for the upkeep of the site; fortunately, citizens understand its importance and dedicate property for its maintenance. The Beit haMikdash is always available to the public, but at certain times during the year it is specifically, majestically revealed to the eyes and hearts of visitors.

The Kohen represents the refined Jew, displaying no blemish. He is armed with the passion of Levi, and the warmth of Aharon. The Kohen maintains himself in purity, via strict discipline. The community supports him, so that he will engage in his duties fully and wholeheartedly.

The Kohen rises early in the morning and races to his task with vigor, even battling other kohanim for the honor of serving. The Kohen must remain focussed upon his task; thoughts of impropriety render his work invalid, and at a great potential price. Kohanim are instructed to perform their tasks, and not those of the other work force in the Beit Midrash; each has a unique role to play.

Of course, there are areas in which the parallels fall short; the role of teacher should not be an automatic inheritance, for example. Nonetheless, I think we could do quite a bit with this analogy.

Rejecting students at the Mir, and at your local day school

[Download our Beit Midrash's special Toronto Torah edition in honour of Yom Yerushalayim here]

Rafi at Life in Israel took note recently of reported admissions changes at the Mir Yeshiva in Israel, under which admission would become more selective.

Of course, this will be welcome to those who contend that advanced Yeshiva should be like any other postgraduate study, open specifically to those who will excel in their studies. To others, those, this may be reminiscent of Rabban Gamliel's defeated policy of blocking entry to certain students (Berachot 28a):

אותו היום סלקוהו לשומר הפתח ונתנה להם רשות לתלמידים ליכנס שהיה רבן גמליאל מכריז ואומר כל תלמיד שאין תוכו כברו לא יכנס לבית המדרש ההוא יומא אתוספו כמה ספסלי אמר רבי יוחנן פליגי בה אבא יוסף בן דוסתאי ורבנן חד אמר אתוספו ארבע מאה ספסלי וחד אמר שבע מאה ספסלי הוה קא חלשא דעתיה דרבן גמליאל אמר דלמא חס ושלום מנעתי תורה מישראל אחזו ליה בחלמיה חצבי חיורי דמליין קטמא ולא היא ההיא ליתובי דעתיה הוא דאחזו ליה

That day, they removed the guard of the [yeshiva] entrance, and permission was granted for the students to enter. Previously, Rabban Gamliel had declared, "If a student is not the same inside and out, he shall not enter the yeshiva.
That day, many benches were added. R' Yochanan reported that there was a debate between Abba Yosef ben Dostai and the Sages, one saying that 400 benches were added and the other saying 700 benches were added.
Rabban Gamliel was upset; he said, "Perhaps, Gd forbid, I have kept Torah from Israel!" In a dream, they showed him white pails containing ashes. [This confirmed that the new students were only superficially pure, and were unworthy.] However, it was not so; this was shown to him only to settle his mind.

Granted that Rabban Gamliel's yeshiva was advanced, and not an elementary school. Nonetheless, the question remains: What are our day schools to do? Are we meant to deny admissions to those who are not up to the standard of "pure, inside and out"?

On the whole, the trend among halachic authorities is that we do not discriminate based on academic ability; rather, the community is expected to produce schools which can educate students at all levels. See, for example, Meiri to Pirkei Avot 1:1, the Tzofnat Paneiach (the Rogatchover) 2:17, and Rav Lau in Yachel Yisrael 2. [On the other hand, that is likely limited to basic schools, not an advanced yeshiva like the Mir.]

Denial of admission is more likely in the case of a potential student who displays poor character, out of concern that he may abuse the Torah he is taught, and that he may influence other students. This is a much trickier area. While the Rambam does say that we are obligated to improve such a student's character to the point where he will be able to learn, it is not clear who, exactly, is included in the obligated "we".

There are many interested parties here, with competing interests:
Parents want the best education for their own children.
Schools want to provide the best education for the maximum number of children.
Budgeteers require that schools provide the best affordable education for the maximum number of children.
Teachers want to provide the best education for the greatest manageable number of children.
The Torah mandates that we provide the best education for all children.
The pressure vectors point in every direction.

Last week I gave a shiur on the topic to a group of teachers. I have no conclusions, only sources; this is anything but simple. You can access it here, with a source sheet for downloading; note, the shiur is in Hebrew.

Anger Management

I send out daily Omer emails, and the other day I received some constructive criticism for a segment in my email for the 23rd day of the Omer:

The combined Sephirah for Day 23 of the Omer is therefore Gevurah sheb'Netzach, "restrained triumph", suggesting a powerful persistence which is employed with judicious restraint.

The comic books of my youth featured a villain named "The Juggernaut", who was an unstoppable force once he launched himself in a given direction. When we are young and less mature, there is a certain appeal to this apparent strength; we like the idea that when we set our minds to something, nothing will sway or distract us. This is actually a weakness, though; being uncritically hard-driving is likely to lead to mistakes. Keeping our strength in reserve for when it is warranted is a more mature, and more successful, path.


My correspondent suggested that use of comic books degraded the value of my message.

I'm not so sure. I agree that we should be careful that our medium not cheapen Torah's message, but I do think that popular culture can provide instructive examples, as well as a way for people to relate to Torah.

Case in point: The NBA playoffs, just a couple of games old, have already provided two such examples, for anyone wanting to teach a teenager about anger management.

First, Celtics star Rajon Rondo bumps a referee while protesting a foul call, getting ejected from the game, killing his team's rally (they lost the game), and getting suspended from the next game.

As ESPN.com reported:
The Celtics were seconds away from possibly salvaging an atrocious Game 1 playoff performance against Atlanta that highlighted so many of their usual deficiencies -- rebounding, lack of depth, poor transition defense, stagnant offensive sets, reverting to "hero" ball to force points onto the board -- when Rajon Rondo decided to really ratchet up his team's degree of difficulty. Boston's Young Turk got himself ejected from the game with 41 seconds to go and -- as a result of the one-game suspension levied against him on Monday for bumping referee Marc Davis -- has left his team woefully shorthanded for Game 2 on Tuesday in Atlanta. I really can't decide which was more disappointing: Rondo becoming unglued over a questionable call on a messy scrum for a loose ball, or his insistence after the fact he didn't bump Davis on purpose. Right. And Metta World Peace didn't see James Harden standing there when he leveled him with his elbow. Look, maybe Davis should have whistled for a jump ball before he called Brandon Bass for a foul. And yes, maybe Davis was a tad quick in slapping a T on Rondo after he approached him with a few choice words. Too bad. Maintain your composure. That's what great players -- and great teams -- do.

Then, last night, one of the Knicks' stars, Amare Stoudemire, followed up the team's loss by punching a glass fire extinguisher case, tearing up his hand:

Amare Stoudemire reduced himself to another A.J. Burnett, another Kevin Brown, another raging, self-absorbed New Yorker who put his own frustrations over his team's pressing needs. He cut up his left hand punching a fire extinguisher case after Monday's Game 2 loss to the Miami Heat, by far his most aggressive move of the night. After scoring the softest, least impactful 18 points a man can score in a playoff game, Stoudemire left AmericanAirlines Arena in silence with his hand heavily taped and his arm in a sling, and with security guards shouting for everyone to get back.

What, were the Knicks looking for an excuse for losing the series? As 680's Peter Gross reported this morning, Stoudemire's status for the upcoming games is unknown, but the fire extinguisher is day to day.

Wanted: An Experimental Yeshiva

No, that title is not meant the way it may sound.

My father likes to note Rashi to this week's parshah (Shemot 16:14), in which he offers a science experiment: If one fills an eggshell with dew, seal her and leave her in the sun, she will rise independently into the air. Based on the pronouns, it certainly seems that Rashi meant the shell would ascend, presumably as a function of the dew's ascension.

Here is the Rashi:

כשהחמה זורחת עולה הטל שעל המן לקראת החמה, כדרך טל עולה לקראת החמה, אף אם תמלא שפופרת של ביצה טל, ותסתום את פיה ותניחה בחמה, היא עולה מאליה באויר. ורבותינו דרשו שהטל עולה מן הארץ באויר, וכעלות שכבת הטל נתגלה המן וראו והנה על פני המדבר וגו':

[For an interesting aside on Rashi's language, see here.]

I was thinking about this the other day, when contemplating experiments yeshivot could perform in order to understand gemara better. Many passages of gemara rely on familiarity with physical realities we don't normally encounter, and these experiments would help us understand what the Rabbis were discussing.

To put it differently: Imagine learning Maseches Succah without ever having seen an esrog before, or Maseches Chullin without the benefit of seeing a cow, or the various modern picture books which illustrate the innards of a cow. It's inconceivable – but that's the way our yeshiva students learn much of the Talmud, including segments which relate to daily ritual. So here are some experiments they could conduct, which would help:

For Maseches Berachos and the discussion of the earliest time for Shma – Go to a place far from urban light pollution, on a clear night, 90 minutes before sunrise, and watch the morning lighten. Set up black, green, blue and white strips of paper, and see when you can discern the difference between them. Time how long the sun takes to cross the horizon.

For Maseches Shabbos and the thresholds of cooking (Maachal Ben Derusai) – Cook a piece of meat 1/3 of the recommended time and test its edibility. Do the same at 1/2 of the recommended time.

For Maseches Pesachim and the discussion of which plants become chametz and which do not – Get wheat and barley kernels, as well as grains of rice, grind them up and expose them to water. Watch what happens, and how long it takes.

For Maseches Beitzah and discussions about the muktzeh status of fruit that has been left to dry, as well as for various halachic discussions which revolve around dried figs – Leave grapes and figs in the sun, and monitor the process as they dry out. Test them for edibility at various stages.

For Maseches Rosh HaShanah and discussions about testimony regarding the sighting of the new moon - Take a field trip on a clear night at the end and start of the lunar month and make observations of the shape and location of the moon.

For Maseches Bava Kama and discussions about tort law and harm caused when items fall into a pit which is ten tefach deep - Dig a pit that deep and experiment dropping various items in.

For Maseches Niddah and the discussion of kesamim (stains which may be blood, but might not be) – Crush lice and examine the quantity and color of the blood produced.

There is much more to do, of course; this is just a start. Some may be more useful, some of more narrow benefit, but this might make the learning experience more 'real' for some students, as well as help them grasp the concepts involved. Some of this is tongue-in-cheek, but not all of it.

Mayor Corey Booker on Jewish Education

First, an interesting question from this morning: On Monday, I went to shul with one of my children. Davening was long (Rosh Chodesh and Chanukah, after all!) and I surprised him afterward with a trip to a local bakery for a jelly doughnut.

This morning - again Chanukah and Rosh Chodesh - I found all of my children dressed and ready to go to shul, bright and early. [Today is Boxing Day nidcheh, so davening wasn't that early] Obviously, a repeat trip to the bakery was expected.

So - Go or No Go? Confirm them in the idea that service of Gd brings quick earthly rewards? Or show them that a mitzvah has value in itself?

I needed about 3 seconds to debate that one; I took them to the bakery. What would you do?

But on to the main subject of this post:

I received a link yesterday to video of Newark's Mayor Corey Booker, speaking at a fundraiser for the Jewish Day School of the Lehigh Valley, the community day school in Allentown, Pennsylvania. The school educates, and draws support from, the gamut of the Jewish spectrum, with a message that tries to reach everyone.

Mayor Booker's speech was perfect; watch it below. [Note: Part II is even better than Part I; that's where he gets into his 'dvar torah'.] I wish every Jewish parent could watch it. He laid out simple but compelling reasons why a Jewish community must support its Jewish school.

Often, Jews draw inspiration from praise that comes from outside the Jewish community; we love to cite Mark Twain on the Eternal Jew, for example. Having a non-Jew recognize value in our community and ideals offers validation. Certainly, that's part of what I value in Mayor Booker's words - but I am more impressed by the Torah content itself.

Part I:


Part II:

To Educate or to Inspire?

[This week's Haveil Havalim is here!]

Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks was at our shul in Toronto this Shabbos, and one of his themes was the use of music to reach our souls.

At one point, the Chief Rabbi commented that Orthodoxy had made a critical mistake for decades, trying to reach people on the cognitive level – and, as he put it, "Cognitive is the English word for dull."

I don't think it's a mistake to reach out intellectually, framing Judaism's teachings in academic terms and attempting to teach text. For that matter, I don't think the Chief Rabbi believes that, either. To inspire the soul without informing the intellect would be to forsake the substance which anchors us as Jews, to abandon the eternal message of Sinai in favor of its ephemeral firework accompaniment, and to veer dangerously into cult territory.

But I do believe that reaching someone on an emotional level generally has a greater and more desirable impact than reaching him on an intellectual level.

Teaching a text can educate, but reaching a soul can awaken.

Teaching a text can inform practice, but reaching a soul can inspire it.

Teaching a text can reduce doubts, but reaching a soul can enable a person to live beyond them.

And while text might be a means of reaching some souls, I don't believe it is the means to reach most.

So why do rabbis traditionally spend so much time teaching text, and comparatively little time singing?

One reason is that inspiration doesn't require a rabbi; it can come from a garden or a song or a meditation or a prayer. Knowledge often requires specialized instruction, but inspiration may be found everywhere.

Another reason is that - in some ways - it's easier to teach text; read a book, explain it, rinse and repeat. It doesn't involve the deep personal relationship, and the associated investment of energy and passionate caring, needed to learn a soul and speak its language and embrace it and understand what moves it. But the results of speaking honestly to a soul are so much more significant – and, personally, I find the experience much more rewarding.

No surprise conclusion here – the two approaches go hand in hand. One who would impart Judaism must succeed at both. But I am with Rabbi Sacks: Shifting some focus from cognition to inspiration would do our Jewish world good.

Wanted: A 7th Grade Rebbe

An incomplete musing on Jewish schooling:

Last week I heard about a local Junior High School limudei kodesh (Judaic studies) teacher who spoke with his students about September 11th. I'm glad he did it.

I am not among those who want the junior high Rebbe to stick to the curriculum. Sure, I will be frustrated when the curriculum is not completed, and I will want the kids to know much more tochen (content) than they will receive in school, but to my mind the kids need a Rebbe at this stage, far more than they need the tochen.

In my junior high school years at HALB in New York, a Rebbe of mine urged us to get out of our Hebrew Academy world and go to high school at Chofetz Chaim; he even gave us a strategy to convince our parents. (“Tell them you want to go to Telz, and they’ll settle for Chofetz Chaim.”) [Whether I like the idea of teachers undermining parents is another discussion...]

Another rebbe allowed us to draw him into conversations on matters of being “shomer negiah” (avoiding intergender physical contact, in accordance with Jewish law) and “the M word”. A rebbe brought us to his home and neighborhood in Brooklyn for a Shabbaton.

At that age, many kids cease to view their parents as sole role models, or role models at all, and they need healthy alternatives. If the instructor is limited to curriculum and lesson plans, the connection to the students cannot evolve into a broader, role model-oriented relationship. So where will the kids find their mentors?

I wonder if any of the “half-Shabbos” phenomenon stems from teachers who are told to be instructors rather than rebbeim.

Maharsha on the Arrogance of our Schools

It has been argued that our elementary schools do our children a disservice by pushing a gemara curriculum at the expense of Tanach, philosophy, tefillah (prayer) and halachah.

The blame is cast in many directions – to parents for pressuring elementary schools out of fear that their children won't get into the right high school, to high schools for placing a premium on gemara education, to school administrations and teachers for poor time management. I don't know enough to comment.

Here's an interesting take, though, on the central cause: According to Maharsha, writing in 16th century Poland, the problem is one of arrogance.

The Talmud (Sanhedrin 24a) links the name בבל (Babylon) with the word בלולה (mixed-up), to say that in Bavel their learning is a mixture of Tanach, mishnah and talmud (meaning analytic study).

The gemara there does not state whether this is a positive or negative, and Tosafot there actually sounds like it is a feature rather than a design flaw, but Rabbi Yirmiyah adds what certainly sounds like criticism: "Eichah 3 says, 'Gd placed me in darkness, like the dead of eternity' – This is the study of Bavel."

Maharsha there explains:

"As a result of their arrogance, their learning is all mixed up and out of order; the one who should learn Tanach at 5 is studying mishnah, the one who should be learning mishnah at 10 is learning talmud. In their youth they learn a mix of mishnah and talmud, as a result of their arrogance.

"Rabbi Yirmiyah said regarding this, 'They placed me in darkness' – The prophet Yirmiyah (not to be confused with Rabbi Yirmiyah) declared this regarding the Babylonian exile, and Rabbi Yirmiyah used it regarding himself, for he was Babylonian and he had learned in that mixed-up system."

So the gemara's line is not describing the multidisciplinary nature of Babylonian Talmud. Rather, it's criticizing the educational approach in Babylonian schools, teaching children Mishnah and Talmud before they are ready.

What does the Maharsha mean? What's the connection between arrogance and starting kids on gemara too early?

Is he saying that parents pressure teachers and schools because they want to believe their children are precocious?

Or does he mean that teachers and administration rush students into the advanced curriculum to build/maintain a school's reputation?

I'm not anything resembling an expert, but I wonder what the Maharsha meant.


Sanhedrin 24a:

אמר רבי יוחנן בלולה במקרא בלולה במשנה בלולה בתלמוד +איכה ג'+ במחשכים הושיבני כמתי עולם אמר רבי ירמיה זה תלמודה של בבל

Maharsha's text:

והוא שמתוך גאותן לומדין בלול ומעורבב לפי הזמן דבן ה' למקרא לומדין משנה ובן י' למשנה לומדין תלמוד שבקטנותן לומדין מעורבב משנה ותלמוד מתוך גאותן וקאמר רבי ירמיה על זה במחשכים הושיבני וגו' ירמיה הנביא אמר האי קרא על גלות בבל ואמרו רבי ירמיה גם כן לסימן על עצמו שהיה מבבל ולמד שם תלמודם מבולבל ומעורב

A Tale of Two Yeshivot

I’ve been too caught up in work this week to be able to blog; I almost posted a מראה מקומות (source references) sheet here just for the sake of posting something at all, but then I received an email asking me to promote the Lancaster Yeshiva’s attempt to gain a $50,000 Pepsi Grant for their work. That dovetailed nicely with a post I’ve been mulling for a while regarding another unique yeshiva, Yeshiva Bnei Simcha.

One of the (many) fundamental problems the Jewish community faces today is the challenge of educating young men and women in Torah, when their natural personalities and/or abilities are not necessarily oriented toward the traditional chavrusa-and-shiur model. What service can we provide young Jews who wish to grow in Torah and in observance, but who won’t fit into the yeshiva structure and schedule and mold?

I’ve seen this so often. I remember classmates of mine whose high school Jewish experience was negative, in no small part because they couldn’t excel in that environment. I’ve known families who felt compelled to choose public schools not for lack of funds but for lack of a Jewish environment that could educate their children.

Certainly, our yeshivot are so financially strapped that they cannot afford to educate for the great spectrum of special educational needs. However, creativity and guts and elbow grease can do a lot in this regard. Here are two examples:

1. The Lancaster Yeshiva
I first became aware of the Lancaster Yeshiva when I lived in Allentown, and I’ve been impressed by it ever since. I've meet Rabbi Sackett and some of the students, and I love what they are doing.

The core concept, as described on their website, is this: The Lancaster Yeshiva Center is a unique program that provides post-high school age boys, many of whom have not found success in previous educational endeavors, with the opportunity to combine Judaic studies with vocational training to achieve fulfillment in Jewish life and success in the workplace and community.
The caring rabbinical staff use their vast knowledge of Judaism to guide the students with classes in Jewish Law, Talmud and Ethics. Active involvement in both synagogue and community life helps the students learn how to become contributing members of society. They are imbued with values and true life experiences that heighten their sense of community and promote an enduring commitment to their Jewish heritage.
The professional vocational training instructors, with their wealth of knowledge and experience, teach the students all skills necessary for success in the construction field. The two-year program endows students with useful skills in areas including carpentry, masonry, flooring, plumbing and electrical contacting. Each year, the students work as a team to refurbish a distressed property in the Lancaster area. This project solidifies their newly acquired skills while benefiting the local community.
Click here to support their bid for a Pepsi Grant to support their work.

2. Yeshiva Bnei Simcha
I know less about Yeshiva Bnei Simcha, and I cannot vouch for their program, but I appreciate their goal of serving students with developmental disabilities, and particularly Aspergers. These are students who can learn and grow as Jews, but they won’t find their growth in a standard yeshiva environment.

As described on the Bnei Simcha site:
Yeshiva Bnei Simcha is the first program ever for adult Jewish men ages 17 to 28 with moderate learning and Developmental Disabilities as well as specializing with Aspergers Spectrum Disorders, who would like to fit into a mainstream yeshiva.
We utilize the healing & transformational power of Torah learned with joy & enthusiasm and empowers the “special needs" individual to:
RECOVER from a life of frustration and criticism by connecting the Jewish Soul to its heritage – in an unconditionally accepting and competition-free environment.
REDIRECT each individual to go beyond limitations, which formerly determined his life.
REFRESH the life force within each student, so that he can see himself as a "miracle in progress."


A yeshiva aimed at providing vocational training, a yeshiva for students with Aspergers… yes, there is yet hope for klal yisrael.

Do we hate learning?

[This week's Toronto Torah is here!]

A brief dyspeptic thought on our educational system, in both schools and synagogues.

A few weeks back I heard a rabbi observe that our Jewish education system actually hates learning. He was talking about a certain weakness in our schools regarding special education, but I took it in a somewhat different direction: Much of our school and synagogue educational system hates the process of learning. We would prefer that our students simply know everything; we would like to avoid the learning, itself.

Contrast the way we learn with the way we eat:

I enjoy eating. I’m a closet foodie; I like ice cream, hamburgers, green vegetables, maple syrup (Good Canadian that I am), pasta, fish, bread, you name it. I like reading recipes. If I could eat constantly and not worry about the time, cost, and health involved, I would. I don’t want to be full. I don’t want to come to the end of an eating process.

A parallel in learning would be to say, “I want to learn. I enjoy sweating a text, analyzing and wondering and questioning and suggesting and rejecting and straining my brain to climb the mountain and then smash the mountain in little pieces. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to finish a course of study.”

But many of our schools don’t encourage that; we teach our frustrated students (adults as well as children) easy tricks of memory or shortcuts to pseudo-comprehension. We get lazy in explaining difficult topics without the difficulties, and we teach our kids to get lazy. We would be happy if we could give our kids a pill or a neural implant that would provide instant knowledge; the only reason we teach them math rather than rely on calculators is our concern that a calculator may not always be available. We don’t really want them to learn. And so this is what we teach them: Knowledge is good, Learning is bad.

To use another analogy, it’s a little like working out at the gym: Some people enjoy a good workout, like to sweat and strain and push their limits. But sometimes we get bored during our workout, and we just want to be done with it and emerge looking good. We don’t want the workout, we just want the results.

We don’t want the learning, we just want the knowledge, and I believe that’s corrupting and destructive. The Torah’s mitzvah is to learn, not to know. The search really is what matters.

I’m not a schools expert; I don’t know enough about educational administration to say, “This is how it oughta be.” But those are my two cents.

Kinder-Grind, Jewish style?

[Haveil Havalim is here!]

I am no expert on pedagogy; my kids are young enough that the Rebbetzin and I are still freeloading off of genetics and circumstance rather than earning our keep.

Still, I had to wonder a few weeks ago when the father down the table at a parent-child learning program [not a program of ours] shouted at his young son – I’d guess five years old – to properly and consistently identify and combine Hebrew letters and their vowels. The peremptory demands went on for about 40 minutes, “Do it!” “Read this!” “This time without mistakes!” and so on. The reading task itself didn’t appear overly taxing, and the child neither cried nor appeared particularly embarrassed, but the parent’s stentorian tone was just so harsh that I couldn’t see how this was a good educational method.

The father reminded me of soccer parents, gymnast parents and the like, putting their very young children through rigorous programs in the hopes of developing some germ of talent.

He also reminded me of Jewish parents’ attempts to start their kids very young, in programs exposing the kids to intensive Torah study, memorization and ritual. It’s an approach that Time Magazine once dubbed Kinder-Grind. A friend once described to me a program in which six-year olds memorize perakim of mishnayos. Another friend sends his child to a program in which the kids are given very little break time, spending long hours both during school and afterwards drilling in text, text and more text.

It feels like a desperate hunt for the next iluy, an anxious search for the Gadol in the family. The philosophy is really not that different from the approach that leads parents to choose preschool programs with an eye toward university admissions, or to try their toddlers on everything from violin to calculus in an attempt to identify the prodigy that must be lurking inside.

But, to me, inculcating Judaism should be different.

Torah is religion, not intellectual discipline. Yes, certainly, intellectual accomplishment in Torah study is part of Jewish excellence. But where the child who grows up resenting his math teacher will still be able to do math, and the child who grows up resenting his swim instructor can choose to walk away from swimming without penalty, a child who grows up resenting his parent or rebbe may know a lot of Torah and still walk away from Judaism as a whole, the best intentions of his mentors notwithstanding.

I'm very familiar with the passages of gemara that talk about starting kids young. And maybe I’m entirely off-base; as I said, the kid didn’t seem to be suffering. Still, and despite my pedagogic ignorance, I'd rather see kids grow up happy and well-adjusted and physically fit, and needing to work extra-hard in 5th-8th grade to pack in the knowledge, than see kids grow up stuffed with both knowledge and resentment.

The Problem with Jewish Charter Schools

The RCA’s 2009 Resolution on Day School Education includes the following paragraph:

Considerable research has demonstrated that the years spent in a Jewish day school environment play a powerful and essential role in Jewish identity formation and ongoing commitment to observance and Jewish community. Even proposed "Hebrew language" charter schools fail to provide an environment conducive to the development of deep-seated Jewish identity. Further, these schools are mandated to teach limited aspects of Jewish culture, self-consciously avoiding Torah and mitzvot.

I have heard from a few people who are upset that this resolution rejects the idea of Hebrew Culture charter schools. They argue that charter schools would be a great option for smaller Jewish communities, which cannot support day schools and high schools.

Unfortunately, my sense is that those people don’t actually understand how a charter school functions. As someone who worked hard on trying to create a Hebrew Language charter high school locally, I can tell you that it is not possible for a Jewish community create one - unless that community has enough kids to support a full Jewish day school.

There are two reasons for this – one political, one economic.

First, the political:
A charter school operates as part of the public school system, and must be approved by the local public school board. Although the charter school is technically under the state’s jurisdiction for certain matters, and although the charter school can appeal school board decisions at the state level, the school must be studied, voted upon, and consistently reviewed by the school board.

Understandably, school boards do not take kindly to charter schools – because the charter school takes their money to support the education of a small group of children. (Yes, we already give them our money in taxes, but that's not the way they see it.) School boards require the charter school to define precisely why those children cannot get a proper education in the normal public school system. And when you tell them your difference is in terms of Hebrew language, and even culture, they are unimpressed, to say the least. In our case, the district gladly offered to institute Hebrew language electives in the public school.

Second, the economic:
This one is an even tougher nut to crack; it’s really what renders the charter idea an impossibility.
Charter schools cannot charge tuition, by law; they can only receive funding from the district. The district provides them with the same funding per child that it provides each public school – in other words, $6,000 to $9,000 in most districts. This means that the Jewish charter school will receive only that amount.
Now imagine you are trying to run your Hebrew charter school in some small community, with ten kids, or fifty kids, or even 100 kids. And let’s say it’s a high-end district, so you make the maximum per student. Still, do you think you can run a complete school for ten kids on $90,000? Or for 100 kids on $900,000? The economies of scale that allow public schools to spend this small amount per child don’t operate until you are up in the 200 kid range – when you really should be able to support a private school.
And, of course: You could charge more than that in tuition if you were a private school, and still be giving parents an incredible break on current tuition costs.

So that’s the deal: Aside from politics, the charter school idea cannot work economically unless the Jewish community has so many kids that it can support a private school – and it could have far more money than a charter school would have, by going private and charging a relatively minimal tuition.