Life after Teshuvah: Five, Ten, and Twenty Years Later
By Rabbi Zecharya Greenwald
Mosaica Press
Ramat Beit Shemesh, 2024
380 pages
A ba’al teshuvah, someone who chooses to become Torah observant, is typically portrayed as enthusiastic and positive. He or she finds joy and inspiration in his new life. But eventually, every ba’al teshuvah passes through his honeymoon period and realizes that life in the Orthodox community can be less than perfect. The reality of others, of society, and even of himself falls short of his expectations. The disappointment and disillusionment affect each person differently. Some people decide to change the world, while others become bitter; some accept that reality is imperfect, while others leave Torah observance.
Rabbi Zecharya Greenwald, a longtime educator in women’s seminaries in Israel, published Life after Teshuvah to offer advice and guidance to people who reach a stage of disillusionment. While this book is directed toward ba’alei teshuvah, much of it applies equally to anyone who feels disappointed in the Jewish community or its leadership. This is a book that provides tools to manage the challenges.
For example, your children may not have been accepted to the school of their choice or may face repeated rejection from prospective mates. These are emotionally difficult topics—frustration over the impact of the lack of money and connections (protektzia) often comes into play. Among the strategies Rabbi Greenwald suggests is recognizing that what you want is not always what is right for you. If your child is not compatible with that school or potential spouse, you may have avoided disaster. However, he does not ignore the many problems with schools (e.g., large classes, lack of professionalism, “the way rules are made and the structure of the system itself”) and the shidduch system in general (“the whole shidduch system is beyond my comprehension”). We live in the real world. We need faith in Hashem, realistic expectations, and an ability to focus on what we have rather than what we lack.
Rabbi Greenwald discusses not just the importance of building a support system but the practicalities of how to do so. Busy people want to help you, but you need to approach them in a flexible manner, recognizing their time constraints. He advises readers how best to approach busy rabbis and how to build multiple layers of support. Most importantly, he recommends becoming a giver of support to others, based on your own abilities and time constraints. You will find that you end up receiving more than you give.
If your child is not compatible with that school or potential spouse, you may have avoided disaster.
The book addresses many more topics, such as whether you should encourage your close family to become more religious (emphatically no), what to consider when deciding whether to try to have a large family, and the importance of instilling self-esteem and resilience in your children. More broadly, Rabbi Greenwald trains readers to think deeply about the challenges they face in life and to consider things from the perspectives of others. Even those who are not ba’alei teshuvah will benefit greatly from this sensitive and long-overdue book that will help many people struggling with their religious identity and community.
Pesikah KaHalachah (Hebrew)
By Rabbi Shlomo Aviner, edited by Rabbi Mordechai Tzion
Ateret Yerushalayim Press
Jerusalem, 2023
389 pages
We live in a time of rapid social and technological change. What was science fiction and political fiction twenty-five years ago is now a reality. This breathless pace of change inevitably leads to debate among ethicists—and, within the Jewish community, halachists—about what is and should be allowed. I wish I had kept careful notes about the many halachic debates I have encountered in my lifetime regarding new practices and technologies. Apparently, Rabbi Shlomo Aviner, the retired rosh yeshivah of Yeshiva Ateret Yerushalayim, prominent posek and prolific writer, has kept track.
Rabbi Aviner’s Pesikah KaHalachah collects his responses to a long list of halachic controversies over the past twenty-five or so years. The framework of the book includes only rulings and innovations that he opposes, which should not lead the reader to believe he never rules leniently. The main part of the book contains two sections: (1) strange rulings and (2) rulings that are difficult to understand. The difference between the two seems to be whether Rabbi Aviner considers the person who issued the ruling to be a venerated halachic authority. If so, he classifies the ruling as one that is difficult to understand. For example, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein rules that a shul may not display an Israeli flag. Rabbi Aviner finds this puzzling and discusses conflicting reports about whether Rabbi Feinstein regretted and retracted that ruling or issued any other responsum on the topic.
In contrast, when the ruling was issued by someone less prominent, it is included in the section of “strange rulings.” For example, in 2014 there was much media discussion of a robot in the Jewish Museum of Berlin that could quickly write a flawless Torah scroll. Rabbi Aviner’s discussion of this type of robot is part of the section of “strange rulings,” where he responds to an unnamed rabbi who had publicly supported the robotic sofer. Rabbi Aviner offers a traditional, citation-filled discussion of multiple arguments, also rejecting an earlier proposal of a silk-screened Torah. In general, Rabbi Aviner does not offer the name of the rabbi to whom he responds (Rabbi Moshe Feinstein is an exception, presumably because his name is necessary for the discussion about whether he retracted his ruling). A reader or historian will find this frustrating. On the other hand, the lack of names transforms the conversation into a discussion of ideas, rather than personalities, which is much more rewarding.
On many topics, Rabbi Aviner’s attitude is one of social conservatism; he is skeptical of change and deferential to custom. This is particularly true when dealing with issues of gender and sexuality. Many of the “strange rulings” are about women’s issues, such as a woman reading a ketubah at a wedding or wearing tefillin for morning prayers. However, the majority deal with other issues, such as shaking a lulav on Shabbat in Jerusalem, the publication of gossip about public figures, and the proposed abolishment of the seven clean days of niddah. I suspect many readers will find themselves nodding along approvingly with some of Rabbi Aviner’s arguments and shaking their heads in disappointment at others, even feeling frustration over rulings so different from the rulings of their rabbis and so divergent from the communal directions they were taught are necessary.
In addition to the citations and halachic arguments, the very record of all these controversies is valuable in itself. Pesikah KaHalachah shows where the fault lines lie in our community and where innovation and progress have been proposed. It is a map illustrating areas in which some people have identified problems that need solutions, while others refuse to embrace the status quo. More than a halachic manual, this book is a text of history and sociology.
Appended to these two sections is a 130-page collection of Rabbi Aviner’s brief answers, ranging across the four sections of Shulchan Aruch, to halachic questions regarding Coronavirus restrictions. This, too, is an important record of a unique period in our history.
Rabbi Gil Student is a member of Jewish Action’s Editorial Committee.