A “Tora U’Madda” Intellectual Autobiography

R. Jack Bieler

When I think back to my Yeshiva College experience (1964-69), I realize that these undergraduate years were chiefly responsible for the development of the “Tora U’Madda” perspective with which I have approached my career in Jewish education and the rabbinate. As a veteran educator with an interest in the philosophy of Jewish education, I am accustomed to reflecting upon concise educational strategies that can contribute to advancing particular perspectives and orientations in students. Since of late there has been much discussion regarding the increasing paucity of self-conscious and proactive educational contexts within which the interdisciplinary and integrated approach championed by Dr. Bernard Revel is unabashedly advanced, I have decided in this essay to focus upon my own experience and consider how my personal “Hashkafa” evolved, in the interests of possibly providing implicit recommendations to those interested in assuring that “Tora U’Madda” remain a viable option for students of Judaism in YU and elsewhere.

Nothing prior to my arriving on the Washington Heights campus in the fall of 1964 provided me with even an inkling of the Hashkafa that is so intrinsic to the Modern Orthodoxy that I have espoused. My parents, ע"ה, had immigrated to the United States from Europe and due to the traumatic disruptions in their lives precipitated by the European persecutions, never so much as completed high school. The “Shabbat” and “Yom Tov” services that I attended, as well as my memories of the Talmud Tora in the Conservative synagogue to which my family belonged, can hardly be credited with offering a sophisticated intellectual approach. It is also possible that due to my young age at the time, I would not have been able to appreciate in-depth analysis of such ideas even if they had been available; nevertheless I do not believe that such discussions were the order of the day in the sermons and afternoon school lessons to which I was exposed. As for the bulk of my formative education, I am a product of the public schools of Queens, NY, which, while offering me a solid Madda background, certainly was hardly a source of Tora.

Looking back, my earliest recollection of being intrigued by the possibility that an individual could be Jewishly observant and also participate in the wider world in a significant and meaningful manner, was when I heard that one of my family’s synagogue’s regular “Ba’alei Tefilla”, an individual who was known to be far more observant and learned than the average congregant in this synagogue, was an official in the United Nations. I often spent time with his sons, and remember wondering how it was possible for their father to travel the world and nevertheless be able to maintain the standards of “Kashrut” and “Shabbat”. I do not recall ever having a conversation with this man; he served as no more than the manifestation of an idea, and consequently the object of my curiosity and wonder.

It seems to me that the possibility that this individual planted within me by nothing more than his abstract example, was embodied over and over in many of the instructors of the “Shiurim” and classes that I participated in at YU. A general observation that struck me deeply early on was how many of my teachers in both general as well as Judaic studies were also congregational Rabbis. While in some cases, this may have been the result of an individual needing to increase the relatively inadequate financial compensation that he was receiving from his synagogue community, or even vice versa, i.e., meager payment for teaching part-time on the college level had to be augmented, and this could be done by serving as a part-time congregational Rabbi, nevertheless I was impressed that a person would bridge the worlds of academics and communal service, and serve in both domains with distinction.

The very first college class that I ever had, during the first afternoon period of the first day of classes, propitiously allowed me to encounter one such unforgettable personality, Rabbi Dr. Maurice Wohlgelernter. In addition to impressing us with his erudition, analytical expertise in dissecting short stories, and ability to critique and hone our writing skills, Dr. Wohlgelernter, or the “Reb” as he demanded we refer to him, later in the year invited the class to attend the celebration at his synagogue honoring him for the book that he had just authored on Israel Zangwill, The King of Schnorrers. The numerous “hats” that the “Reb” wore, Rabbi, Dr., English professor, author, synagogue Rabbi served to broaden my understanding of what a fully engaged and multi-dimensional religious and academic life might entail.

Rabbi Dr. “Yitz” Greenberg, by means of his class on the Mussar Movement in general and R. Yisrael Salanter in particular, reinforced the impression that the “Reb” had made upon me. By the time I participated in his class, R. Greenberg had achieved a significant reputation as a masterful synagogue Rabbi with regard to his great contributions to the Riverdale Jewish Center and his advocacy for and input to the cutting-edge SAR Academy, as well as a radical thinker unafraid to challenge many of the “orthodoxies” of Jewish orthodoxy. The fact that he had a PhD in history from Harvard and taught courses in Yeshiva College intrigued me, and I decided that it was important to see how these various roles contributed to a college course. I remember being powerfully stimulated by not only R. Greenberg’s lectures—I remember and cite to this day some of the material about R. Salanter that I first learned in this class some thirty years ago—as the interchanges between the instructor and several knowledgeable students who regularly challenged R. Greenberg’s assumptions. Due to my public school background, I was still a student in JSS at this point, my Junior year, and was hardly in a position to evaluate the extent to which R. Greenberg was combining some of his controversial theological ideas with the class’ subject matter. But some of my classmates rose to what they considered the regular challenges posed by the teacher. I do not recall another class which was so electric, and not only did I come away with many thoughts about how Judaism and general history could and even should be integrated, but I also never forgot how the provocative “gadfly” Socratic approach to teaching could be so powerfully memorable and educationally effective. I have tried to emulate the stance of teacher as “agent provocateur” in my own career, due in no small measure, to experiencing the give-and-take in a true “Tora U’Madda” context.

A third seminal example that is emblazoned in my memory is R. Moshe Tendler’s introductory biology class. By this time, it was clear to me that the humanities were my destiny, and I would enroll in science and mathematics classes only to fulfill distribution requirements. Although I did not expect to be enthralled by studying biology, R. Tendler’s approach and general persona captured my attention and interest. Here was another individual who was a community Rabbi in Monsey, a Maggid Shiur in YU, and a distinguished biologist and medical authority. During the course of his lectures, R. Tendler would often regale us with accounts of his varied and profoundly interesting experiences and interchanges with all sorts of memorable personalities, not the least of whom was his father-in-law, R. Moshe Feinstein, זצ"ל. Sitting in R. Tendler’s class, it was unmistakable to all that he was looking at biology through the lense of Tora, and vice versa.

Dr. Sol Roth, the professor with whom I studied general philosophy, was yet another example of a synagogue Rabbi who taught an academic secular subject. While aside from an occasional reference to RaMBaM, Dr. Roth did not regularly access his Tora knowledge during the course of his lectures, we all knew that he could should he have wished to. I was also aware of the books that he had written, The Jewish Idea of Community and The Jewish Idea of Culture and these gave additional credence to the manner in which a “Tora U’Madda” individual lived and thought.

In addition to the intriguing modeling provided by Shul Rabbis who possessing wide interests and knowledge, also taught secular college classes, certain other instructors, although not necessarily personally B’nai Tora, nevertheless conveyed to their students the possibility and even necessity to bridge the worlds of “Tora U’Madda”. As an English major, I studied with Dr. David Fleischer, ע"ה, for six semesters. Dr. Fleisher was another memorable instructor whose sardonic humor was unmatched. He also was a master of literature, and it was a privilege to study with him. In contrast to the teachers that I mentioned above, some of whom peppered their presentations with references from both the world of Tora as well as a particular general studies discipline, Dr. Fleischer rarely let on regarding the extent of his own personal Jewish knowledge and/or observance. Which is why I was quite taken aback, when the three hour examination for his “Art of Drama” course consisted of the following single question: “You have been commissioned to write a musical about either the life of Moses or David. Which would you choose and why?” I can say with assuredness that I had not expected to be called upon to integrate biblical studies with what I had learned and been thinking about concerning the structures, contents, and dramatization of plays. Furthermore, throughout “The Art of Drama” nary a reference had ever been made to any biblical character, let alone Moses and David. Dr. Fleischer was challenging each us to “think out of the box”, to cross disciplinary lines and develop ideas that would be cross-pollinated by contributions from the worlds of Judaic and secular studies. I am fairly certain that this question at least in part motivated me to pursue the same sort of thinking within the contexts of topics of papers that I wrote for other courses. In the Shakespeare course taught by Dr. Manfred Weidhorn, one of the papers that I submitted was a comparison of the interpretations of the biblical verses that Shylock cites in The Merchant of Venice, as compared to how Barabas understands Tora passages in The Jew of Malta. While biblical texts were not an area of Dr. Weidhorn’s expertise, he encouraged me to write the paper, and commented upon it as seriously as any that other students submitted. And in another of Dr. Fleischer’s courses on 17^th Century British Literature, I wrote about John Milton’s essay concerning censorship, “The Areopagitica”, and compared what he says with regard to the censoring of religious writings and the general state of religion today. Consequently, in addition to whatever else I learned in “The Art of Drama”, the implied lesson from the question on the final left a deep impression.

Another source of modeling “Tora U’Madda” thinking for me while at YU were the student publications that were being produced during my college years. The Gesher annual contained a number of articles, including one entitled “Synthesis” by a younger R. Aharon Lichtenstein that constituted written exercises wherein the authors grappled with reconciling assumptions between their Yeshiva and college studies. Hamevaser, which was published several times over the course of each academic year, and on whose behalf I was Feature Editor for a time, also strove to clarify and explore contemporary Jewish issues by accessing a wide variety of materials and disciplines. I remember reading Rav Soloveitchik’s, זצ"ל, essay “Confrontation” on the issue of ecumenical interchanges with representatives of other religions, a subject that has recently been revisited at conferences and in journal articles, in Hamevaser shortly after the Rav presented it in lecture form in Lamport Auditorium in 1964. Even The Commentator literary supplement one year gave me an opportunity to review I. B. Singer’s collection of short stories, A Crown of Feathers, an assignment that challenged me to evaluate a volume containing a plethora of traditional Jewish themes from the perspective of both traditional Jewish thought as well as literary sensibility.

By the time I entered R. Aharon Lichtenstein’s “Shiur” during my fifth undergraduate year (in those days, the university in response to the stresses imposed by the dual curriculum, encouraged undergraduates to extend their studies an additional year by offering free tuition, thereby allowing a student to take one less major subject per semester) my sensitivity for “Tora U’Madda” was already considerably developed. Nevertheless, R. Aharon demonstrated from time to time, particularly during “Machshava” discussions at the end of the Thursday afternoon Shiur, in a very overt and unapologetic manner, how great works of general literature and philosophy can be smoothly integrated and intertwined with Jewish primary and secondary sources. I remember very clearly discussing a personal issue with him one day in the Rubin Hall cafeteria, and his rejoinder based upon a quote from Nietzsche. Rav Aharon not only presented the possibility of “Tora U’Madda”; he continues to personally embody the conception in a most impressive and inspiring manner in his writing and oral presentations, which I for one were very drawn to emulate on my own modest level.

Both Dr. Samuel Belkin, זצ"ל, and יבדל לחיים טובים וארוכים, R. Norman Lamm have written that the only responsibility that Yeshiva University should have with respect to “Tora U’Madda” is to provide students with exposure to the various disciplines “on both sides of the curriculum” and then leave it up to them to reconcile and integrate what they have learned. In addition to disagreeing with such an approach from an educational philosophy perspective—in my estimation, Yeshiva college students, let alone younger individuals attending day schools have hardly the maturity, sophistication or breadth of knowledge that will allow them to successfully and meaningfully integrate the often ostensibly antithetical ideas which they have been taught—reflecting upon my own personal educational experience leads me to conclude that “Tora U’Madda” can best be conveyed and promoted by means of living examples of teachers—both “Magiddei Shiur” and secular studies instructors—who actually think and live such a life in “real time”, as well as by means of writing assignments, papers, and publications that both demand as well as provide opportunities for students to be encouraged to engage in this type of thinking in a serious and ongoing manner.

Rabbi Jack Bieler received “Semicha” from RIETS in 1974 as well as a Masters in Jewish Education from the Ferkauf Graduate School. He has been Chairman of the Talmud Department at Yeshivat Ramaz, permanent Scholar-in-Residence at Congregation Kehilat Jeshurun, Assistant Principal and member of the Judaic Studies Faculty at the MJ Berman Hebrew Academy, and currently is the Rabbi of the Kemp Mill Synagogue in Silver Spring, MD.