I’ve recently written about different aspects of the Rabbinate, mostly in the abstract. Aside from describing the challenges of the profession, there hasn’t been much about the personal side to the Rabbinate. I’ve wanted to write about this for a while, especially considering my first year as a Rabbi, and spending the past few weeks at home reminded me of the many dimensions of a Rabbi’s life.
That, and I’m currently stuck in an airport.
The past few years haven't been good for the image of the Modern Orthodox Rabbinate. From the Lanner scandal and subsequent OU cover-up, to the most recent frustrations with YU, it isn't surprising to find Modern Orthodox Jews who are suspect if not disgusted with the institution of the Rabbinate. I've personally heard claims of malicious dishonesty, where if you're part of the "old-boys club," you can get away with whatever you want.
Most Modern Orthodox Jews will blame the "system" or Rabbinic intstitutions for perpetuating a corrupt system. The Rabbis are simply looking out for themselves, and so continue the patterns of dishonesty though their schools and organizations. But while there may be some merit to this position, it fails to address why such a system is allowed to exist and to continue. Assuming that the Rabbiniate is as bad as some people say - a presumptuous suggestion in its own right - then what would the factors be that caused this unfortunate situation?
Of the positions in the orthodox rabbinate, perhaps the two most noticeable and influential are those of the Rav and the Rosh Yeshiva. The Rav is more commonly known as a "pulpit rabbi" and is employed by a community to oversee and establish religious policy for his congregation.1 The Rosh Yeshiva is not necessarily the "head of the school" as its title translated,2 but rather is a Torah scholar who often teaches those who will eventually become Rabbis.
In contemporary halakhic disputes, it is not uncommon to find these two groups on opposite sides - especially regarding modifications to existing practices or customs. A Rav may wish to innovate, and a Rosh Yeshiva would wish to preserve the status quo. The real question is not the nature of the new or modified practice, but who has the real authority to promote change in normative Judaism.
This is what would have been part one of the comically misnamed Rabbi Week. Yes, I'm back writing, but I don't know if I'll be able to get everyone out in a week's time. Many apologies for the delay. I might even write something at a later point about it, but it does get somewhat personal. At any rate, better late than never.
Let the fun begin.
