A plea for courage

It is a time of great peril for moral courage. Courage has often been simplistically reduced to military muscle and physical strength. More dangerously, it is coopted so people who are progressive to see courage as the expression of liberal views in a sea of liberal thinkers, and conservatives see it as expressing illiberal views in conservative environments. Courage, by this standard, is measured by the opinion that is advanced and the passion of the advocate. The clarity of purpose that religious courage should engender is lost in the analysis.

Religious courage does not mandate a specific philosophic outlook, nor does it demand a retreat from any political or social opinions. On the contrary, Judaism compels interaction with the world, engagement with the turmoil of social grievances, and confrontation with the tumult of political dispute. Religious courage is perhaps best understood by contrasting it with its corollary, religious weakness. Weakness is a withdrawal from confrontation and a capitulation to silence when voices need to be heard. The disengagement from societal crisis is religious weakness. Preaching to the choir is a weakness if only the choir is there. Silence in the face of social and political dehumanization mutes the vibrant religious impulse that anchors our faith in God.

It is disheartening to see learned rabbis preach regarding the moral conviction of Moses, the individuality and iconoclastic character of Abraham, or the idealism and intrepid exhortations of Isaiah, Micah, Ezekiel, and Jeremiah and divorce themselves from the grievous wounds being inflicted on democratic freedoms in America and the anguished tribulations of moral questions of war that besiege Israel. It is difficult to reconcile that a significant portion of the rabbinic world has sought shelter in the comfort of halachic dialectics and teach the ethics of our fathers without risking the application of those Torah values to real life circumstance. It is distressing to witness those in the rabbinate who choose to remain disengaged from moral issues that undermine our freedoms, our humanity, and our future to luxuriate in the bliss of legal sophistry and the comfort of abstract conjecture.

The core of Torah is a belief that halacha is not a remote abstract of mandated acts without import in the world. The nobility of Torah is that it teaches lessons for today and is not a course in history. Judaism implores involvement. Halacha dictates that following religious law must have a vital and moral impact on how we act. Jewish law and Jewish thought must activate our sensitivities and not strangle our instincts to be a contributing moral force in society. The Rav, Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik z”l, best captured the import of halacha. In explaining the Rav’s philosophy, his son in law, Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein z”l, taught that for the Rav, halacha was not a paradise. In fact, it was a paradox. Halacha was not an answer to any questions. Halacha, for the Rav, was an impetus and a prod to heighten our ethical sensitivity to every question. Religious law must serve as a moral impulse. The conclusions need not be uniform. The prompt to participate, with a conscience crafted by a majestically sensitive moral legal code, is the essence of being an observant Jew.

How can there be respect for the dignity of the rabbinate if moral issues are not germane to their position in the community? How can there be respect for halacha if its greatest students, our rabbinic leaders, intentionally immerse themselves in the details of ritual observance, and distance Jewish thought and Jewish law from direct interaction with the ethical threats to our society? In attempting to preserve their positions as leaders of communities they are squandering their respect as leaders of the community. By fearing the communal reaction to an urgent ethical threat to our continued freedoms and our love for Israel, they have tarnished the rabbinate and weakened the intended magnitude of halachic possibilities. Does halacha tolerate speaking out against only historic indecencies of the past — the righteous disgust at the antisemitism of the America First movement in the 1930s and 1940s, or Senator Joseph McCarthy’s purge of innocent victims as presumed communists in the 1950s, or Pat Buchanan’s more oblique antisemitism in the 1990s — but welcomes silence in the face of open admiration of Ben Gvir and Smotrich, whose racist extremism has corroded our national image?

Although it would be disingenuous of me to suggest that I find redeemable qualities in Donald Trump, it would nonetheless be admirable and praiseworthy if a rabbi of any stripe would express his views that supported Trump policy at the risk of offending some communal members. It would, if nothing else, restore respect for rabbinic honesty and it would inject courage and credibility into the messages they impart. It is frightening that even making even a simple statement that should be universally embraced is challenging.

It is tragic that many in the rabbinate, our guides to fulfilling our objective of being a light among the nations, as far as I know not yet summoned the humanity, the moral fortitude or the religious imperative to pray for innocent children who suffer within a few hundred yards with our own children of Israel. We may be totally justified in fighting an existential battle for the State of Israel. We are surely entitled to be supremely sensitive to our own sufferings. But is it possible that Jews praying to the God of Israel dare not offend Him by invoking the sufferings of innocent children? Or is it possible that rabbis praying to the God of Israel dare not risk offending members of their congregation by invoking the sufferings of innocent children resulting from a war fought by Israel to redeem the honor of God? Have we been reduced to a political assessment of what God expects of us? Have we so diminished our religious ideals that we leaven our piety with silence and soothe our moral pangs with apathy?

Weakness is infectious. Most leaders follow the tribe and sacrifice conscience to expediency. That is what makes courage so rare. It is not easy to challenge consensus. It is not an easy task to speak truth to power or to defy the status quo. But courage has its own rewards. It unencumbers the conscience and it empowers the divine spark of individuality. It inspires respect and engenders dignity. It is the heartbeat of halacha. The pulse of Jewish law is energized by a courageous heart.

The solutions are not so clear. But shrinking from addressing the many crises affecting us with honesty in order to preserve personal status is not a religious standard to be mimicked or admired. It is ignoble. Courage must accompany each of us in this treacherous moment. The rabbinate must find the courage to express convictions on the most urgent matters of personal freedom and human dignity. It is the crux of their vocation. It is at the heart of our faith. They must not shrink from their task. This is a plea for courage in this moment of peril.

Jack Nelson is a longtime resident of Bergen County. For many years he practiced law in New York; now he is a business executive.

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