Recently, a relative sent me an amusing cartoon featuring the complications of maintaining a kosher kitchen. It shows stickers usually associated with “meat” and “dairy” designations which read “once fleishige, used to cut milchige onion,” “once milchige, now treife,” “davar charif,” etc. There are pouches which say “kli rishon, sheini,” all the way up to “kli chamishi” (!). There is a measuring cup which says on it “k’beitzah” and a smaller one for a “k’zayit.” Most importantly, of course, is the “bein yomo clock” set to ring at just the right moment. The entire page is entitled “The (hopefully still) Kosher Kitchen.” Cute. But it got me thinking. Halachically speaking, we have come a long way. Today, the average Orthodox Jewish homemaker knows, at least generally, what these concepts are. How to keep a strictly kosher kitchen does require knowledge of many details and people today are learning and observing them. There are many excellent books and shiurim which are readily available for one to learn halachic minutiae. There is no doubt that this higher level of observance coincides with the larger numbers of people studying Torah on a regular basis. Thanks to ArtScroll and many other resources, understanding the basis for Halachic decision making is now open to all.
It was not always so. If one goes back 50 years, to 1970 and certainly earlier, it was not commonplace for an average Orthodox Jewish man or woman to be conversant in the details of Halacha. They knew the basics of how to keep a kosher kitchen and how to keep Shabbat, but one did not hear discussions about the size of matzah to be eaten at the Seder or the precise temperature of “yad soledet bo.” The same is true for many details of the laws of tefillah, niddah and Yom Tov. People generally did what they saw in their parents’ home and were content with the knowledge that they were doing things correctly. This should not be surprising, as the Talmud was a formidable challenge to the average person and the rabbi’s Shabbat afternoon Gemara shiur was usually all that was available to the community. Most people had never heard of Daf Yomi. The phenomenon of one, two or three years of learning in Israel has contributed greatly to this growth in knowledge of sources and details of Halacha.
It is beautiful to see, especially on Shabbat, people walking to various chaburot with an ArtScroll Gemara. Often, the participants take turns preparing what is being studied and explain the particular sugya to the others. This was unthinkable 40 or 50 years ago because there was no way for them to prepare the Gemara. As a result, rabbis are dealing with more sophisticated questions. The person asking often has at least rudimentary knowledge of the subject and the rav can delve deeply with him or her. This is all a great blessing.
Now, during the COVID crisis, this attention given to Halacha is manifesting itself in strange ways. We hear prominent rabbanim and roshei yeshiva telling people to wear masks, be socially distant, and finally, to get vaccinated. This, too, would not have happened 40 or 50 years ago. It would have been unimaginable to go to one’s rav and ask whether it is necessary to wear masks during a pandemic when all responsible health officials say to do so. Roshei yeshiva are certainly doing the right thing by telling people that they need to be vaccinated, but why is it necessary for them to confirm the obvious? Does one not have the most basic understanding of “ve’nishmartem me’od l’nafshoteichem?” Is there not common sense which dictates that we protect our lives? I cringe when I see a report that a gadol needed to tell people to get vaccinated. This is not to mention that there are Jewish communities which have the reputation of flouting governmental health guidelines. How has a halachically-minded community come to this? I live in Teaneck and am very proud of the caution which continues to be taken in this neighborhood. The outstanding rabbanim here are leading the way, but following guidelines designed to protect everyone should not need rabbinic approval. Other Orthodox communities, where such adherence is not taking place, will have to ask themselves where they went astray. It is not heightened Torah punctiliousness to seek guidance on such obvious and intuitive matters. Poskim throughout the world are steering us through these unchartered waters by answering important questions about how to navigate tefillah b’tzibur, weddings and other communal events. We need them to show us the way. But one would not ask a posek whether it is necessary to stop at a red light. A religious Jew should not need to ask a rav if one should take precautions to save one’s own or someone else’s life. Of course, there is a Halachic answer to the question, but the very asking exhibits an unhealthy interface between normal life and Halachic understanding.
One must live a balanced life, one with a full understanding of the world around us and knowledge of how to integrate Torah values into it. When society adopts moral standards which are at odds with our tradition, our rabbanim must give clarification and guidance as to how a Jew responds and behaves. But medical realities do not require a posek’s confirmation. The field of medical Halacha is vast, but those areas deal with how to make difficult decisions stemming from our value system. They do not constitute endorsement of scientific realities. We should be able to sense objective truth in the natural world when it is shown to us. Confusion about what is a halachic issue and what is not portrays an immature integration of one’s halachic sensibility.
The Torah says that if we keep the Torah the nations of the world will say: רק עם חכם ונבון הגוי הגדול הזה — דברים ד:ו
“This great nation is a wise and understanding people.”
Hopefully, the increase in learning in our communities will continue. Our children will see that devotion to Torah study is our passion. And the nations of the world will be impressed with us as a wise and understanding people.
Rabbi Neal Turk was a rav in Fair Lawn, New Jersey and Miami Beach, Florida. He is now the mashgiach of the semicha program at RIETS.
