Over the past several years, I have made it a habit of asking as many teenagers attending Jewish day schools as I can, “Do you believe that G-d wrote the Torah?” Sadly, at least 30-50 percent aren’t so sure, which interestingly enough, correlates to the 30-50 percent attrition rate within Modern Orthodoxy. Not surprisingly, when I have asked that very same question to your average frum yeshivishe boy, they generally laugh and rarely respond, indicating the ridiculousness of the question.
And that is yet another cancer eating away at both Rav Samson Rafael Hirsch’s and Rav Soloveitchik’s, z”l, magnum opus, Modern Orthodoxy.
After parents spend hundreds of thousands of hard-earned dollars, a large number of our kids don’t really believe the Torah is the written word of G-d. Schools don’t teach it. They either assume that kids already believe it, or more than likely, it doesn’t fit into their curriculum. Talmud sharpens the mind, Chumash teaches values and stories, and Ivrit teaches the language. But addressing perhaps the most important, yet critical belief, namely that Hashem authored the Torah and everything therein, seems to drift by the wayside. So naturally, many kids fail to see the Torah as the single greatest testament to G-d’s existence, a book replete with Divine instruction and lessons on how we are to live and prosper as individuals, not to mention, as a people.
And since many Modern Orthodox teenagers (and adults while we’re at it) view the Torah as more of an inspirational book authored by great rabbis and wise people, they do not feel compelled to observe it – as opposed to those who accept the Torah as written by Hashem and submit to his ol malchus Shamayim.
Take Shabbos, for example. It is repeated throughout the Torah because Hashem values that it is a critical foundation upon which we exist as a people. Shabbos is the glue to our people. G-d himself keeps Shabbos!
Likewise, to the frum Jew, the story of Joseph isn’t a great theme for a Broadway show with a great soundtrack to match. It is the riveting yet painful story of a lonely, imprisoned Hebrew slave who saves the world, eventually becoming second only to the King of Egypt. The Ten Plagues, along with the Ten Commandments aren’t some feel good stories we tell our children. They are the bedrock of our existence. Yet when people don’t actually believe them to be the word of Hashem, why bother?
To be clear, the original vision and mission statement of Modern Orthodoxy was quite simple. Acceptance of the Torah and the mesorah, yet open to experiencing the secular world, providing halacha remains intact. Unfortunately, I think many of us, along with our day schools, have dropped the ball.
Why wouldn’t we expect a 30 to 50 percent attrition rate when children aren’t 100 percent sure that G-d wrote the Torah? Why would anyone ever keep 613 commandments when they’re not even sure it was Divinely ordained? Parents play a major role in educating their children, but quite frankly, a lot of these parents aren’t completely sold on it themselves.
How many school parents have explained to their children that G-d is present in their lives, or that He wrote the Torah and is an all knowing, all loving, and all powerful G-d. How many schools have answered the question: why do bad things happen to good people or what happens when we die or why does the world hate us or does G-d really care if I text on Shabbos?
Once I identified the problem, I started speaking in day schools. Yet in time, I began to see that many day schools were facing a serious dilemma. While they want to impart a good Jewish education and foster good feeling towards Judaism, they do not want to rock the boat by pushing religion.
Why? Because when I lecture about the importance of Shabbos and Torah, many kids go home to parents who are not remotely interested in changing their lifestyle. And that causes dissonance. The result? Too many Jewish day schools no longer encourage mitzvot like Shabbos and tefillin, and general outreach programs are no longer a strong presence in these schools as well.
One rabbi of an extremely popular Jewish day school didn’t want my free book Miracles of Shabbos for his students; instead, he wanted to focus on Holocaust awareness and Israel. While those are noble endeavors, that is not the essence of Torah Judaism. Last I checked, mitzvot and Torah observance are what defines a Jew, not Holocaust museums or IDF dinners (though they are still noble causes).
Another rabbi told me that if he gave out these books to his students and they started to keep Shabbos, some parents would complain.
Case in point. I called several day schools and offered to send them free booklets on the miracles of Shabbos. Most day schools were not receptive and most day school rabbis didn’t even respond to my emails. Who would turn down a free booklet written for teenagers who doubt the importance of keeping Shabbos? Even more telling is that Chabad, bless them, have distributed thousands of my books worldwide. (And I’m not even Lubavitch. At least, not yet.) Why? Because unlike their Modern Orthodox counterparts, Chabad is proud and sees no shame in getting people to do mitzvahs, which might also explain why they have been relatively far more successful on college campuses (and everywhere else in the world for that matter).
Because of this, many schools’ mission statements send an obscure message: “Learn the Chumash which discusses laws like Shabbos and kashrut, but don’t actually keep it… “
The result? Parents are spending hundreds of thousands on an education that lacks actual growth, where Jewish teenagers graduate day schools not knowing, let alone observing, a great deal. Even worse, the essence of the mesorah and Torah Judaism is lost, replaced by many feel-good teachings that miss the point.
Consider this. I was recently invited as a guest to the Jewish National Fund conference at the Diplomat Hotel in South Florida. The JNF supports a wide range of projects in Israel, such as developing land, planting trees, building reservoirs, and creating parks and communities. There were close to 3,000 Jews in attendance who were all on the same page about one thing: our love of Israel.
Yet for some reason, I had a strange feeling, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. And then it hit me. Roughly 75 percent of the attendees were not frum. Many were using their cell phones openly on Shabbos and several speeches were made during dinner over a microphone throughout Shabbos dinner. Many workshops were open on Shabbos and items were available for purchase as well. Shabbos lunch consisted of a small box of salad and a soda with no wine or a challah to be found (eventually some was found for the frum Jews).
As I sat in my hotel room enjoying my emergency secret chulent and kishka I brought along “just in case,” it occurred to me that for a majority of people at the conference, their primary connection with Judaism was the state of Israel and the IDF; not in keeping Shabbos. Why? Because many of the attendees were nonobservant Jews whose connection with Judaism was having Friday night Shabbat dinner, and supporting Israel. After all, when you don’t believe that Hashem authored the Torah, why wouldn’t people use phones and microphones on Shabbos?
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what connection all these people would’ve had with Judaism prior to 1948 when we didn’t have Israel. Would their religious observance be put on hold between the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 CE until the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948? When someone’s belief in Judaism is relegated to a land as opposed to the Torah, the rules of the game change, changing the very game itself.
Day schools and parents need to man up and decide what their mission statement really is. Is the main objective offering a Jewish education and getting our kids into an Ivy without any real spiritual growth or true understanding of G-d and His Torah? Because one thing is certain: if parents rely on day schools to make their kids frum, forget it. Parents have to talk to their kids and show them by example how important the mesorah is.
Parents have to insist that their schools start teaching Jewish hashkafa, answering the very questions I pose in my book such as: What is G-d? How do we know Hashem authored the Torah? What happens when we die? What about observant Jews who are dishonest? Does G-d care if I text on Shabbos?
If Modern Orthodoxy wishes to rebound, perhaps day schools should consider empowering and educating their students by teaching them hashkafa within their curriculum; we should be honest with our children and students about these questions – and the best answers we have for them; and very crucially, parents and educators must model the behavior of growth-oriented Jews, seeking to know and connect to G-d.