2008 Woodie Awards
Maybe It's Because We Barely Have One
Notes on "God on the Quad"
Zev Nagel
Issue date: 2/15/05 Section: Editorials/Op-Ed
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"God on the Quad" features roughly twenty institutions of higher learning in America that have made some commitment to what Schaefer calls an integration of "faith and learning." Only six universities, of which Yeshiva was one, merited an entire chapter unto themselves. Of the six single-chaptered schools - the Mormon Brigham Young University, the Fundamentalist Bob Jones University, the Catholic University of Notre Dame, the Jewish Yeshiva University, and the Baptist Baylor University - Yeshiva and Notre Dame are the only two institutions ranked in the top 50 of US News and World Report's "America's Best Colleges." But despite the national rankings, when weighed against its contemporaries in the book, Yeshiva fares the worst.
Schaefer is clearly an outsider to all the schools she visits. At each school she asks students and faculty the same questions relating to their school's curriculum, life inside and outside the classroom, and their institutional objective. Often these answers were provided by the college dean, the university president, or the PR department. But the most incisive answers, and thus the most entertaining portions of the book, are Schaefer's conversations with students. As to her portrayal of Yeshiva, Schaefer makes a number of basic mistakes, of which the most notable was an ironic reference to Edah as an organization at Yeshiva serving to further intellectual openness (used correctly, the example would have bolstered Schaefer's characterization of a polarized Yeshiva). She identifies Yeshiva's greatest problem as itself, an institution that has pitted Torah and Madda against one another leaving students in the crossfire, confused and frustrated.
Like most journalists, Schaefer relies a great deal on dramatic flair to liven up some of the more humdrum stories. She focuses a great deal on President Joel (though she never speaks with him) and the many factors that differentiate him from his predecessors, even though none are explicitly mentioned (Yeshiva Chancellor Norman Lamm is mentioned in a different context later in the book). Naturally she brings up the infamous tehillim rally, and describes in hyperbolic detail the presidential investiture ceremony that took place on the Wilf Campus last year. She even goes as far as to pen a few pages on former vice-presidential candidate Joe Lieberman as the embodiment of the Yeshiva spirit, though Lieberman has no affiliation with Yeshiva nor do students see him as an intellectual icon. Schaefer even tries to peg President Joel's layman status against the traditional conservatism of RIETS, but does so unconvincingly.
Having spent too much time writing about the politics of President Joel's rise to power, Schaefer then looks to our students to enlighten her about campus intellectual life. One former student, now simultaneously enrolled in RIETS and Cardozo, speaks about how professors think the mornings are a waste of time while the rabbis think the afternoons are wastes of time. Needless to say, in my three years at Yeshiva I've never heard anything of the sort. But he wasn't alone either; others too harped on what they see as hostility between the morning and afternoon programs. Yet these students fail to qualify it. What they perceive as a divisive tension is in actuality a creative tension, a reality that forces students to grapple with the issues rather than discount them as irrelevant. Creative tension leads to a life of exploration and examination, of growth and deserved conviction.
Unfortunately, the administration didn't exactly help to improve the divisive portrait either. Schaefer sent Yeshiva a visitation request only to receive a response from our Office of Communications and Public Affairs saying: "Unfortunately, YU does not 'fit' into the...categories of Jewish higher education in America you are exploring. We do not 'inculcate Jewish faith and learning' in our curricula." Even if the phrase "faith and learning" is nebulous, how can a Yeshiva employee representing the university make such a statement? Unfortunately there are even members of the university president's cabinet - and this is not a McCarthy hunt - that lack a comprehensive understanding of Yeshiva. But it was not just the non-academic departments that fell short of the task. Dr. Charles Snow, dean of Yeshiva's undergraduate Sy Syms School of Business, told Schaefer he never discusses Torah u'Madda with prospective job applicants; Schaefer writes similarly about hirings in the Yeshiva College faculty. Surely we need not demand a religious commitment from our faculty, but should they not be aware of the school's mission? What good is a faculty, the people who are helping students think about their lives, if they do not appreciate and join in our ideals?
To be honest, there is a bit of confusion in semantics relating to the religious nature of Yeshiva. Because of the 1969 New York Blaine amendment, "public funds cannot be used to aid schools under control and direction of any religious denomination." So in truth, there may be nothing inherently religious about Yeshiva College, except for the required courses in Bible and Jewish History, which, at least in the course descriptions, fall under academic rather than religious studies. But the Yeshiva undergraduate program, and this is what Schaefer was targeting, is a life of "faith and learning." So while the college deans may be technically correct when they said Yeshiva "is not a religious college," they still miss the point of the Yeshiva education.
Sadly, every Christian institution in the book comes off as more passionate, more idealistic, and more interested in the education they give their students than Yeshiva. Even Touro, which gets a few lines here and there, is represented by professors who provide thoughtful answers as to how Touro integrates "faith and learning." I have no doubt that many of the individuals interviewed from Yeshiva expressed to Schaefer more than just their frustrations and may have even spoke passionately an idealistically about Yeshiva. But because she conveniently chose not to cite those aspects of those conversations, the Yeshiva chapter leaves us lacking and confused.
Ironically, of all the universities featured in their own chapters (again with the exception of Notre Dame) Yeshiva, was the most liberal, politically and socially, and maintains the highest academic standards. For all its seemingly academic deficiencies, Yeshiva does not terminate contracts of professors who harbor beliefs heretical to Judaism; BYU and Bob Jones University, however, have no qualms firing professors that antagonize and agitate students for their religious beliefs. Strangely enough, Yeshiva's Student Bill of Rights does not forbid, and in fact makes no reference to premarital sex; and yet BYU's does. Think for a moment about some of these other interesting nuggets: If students at Bob Jones University want to go on a date, they need to bring along a chaperon. Students at Thomas Aquinas College in rural upstate California are not allowed to own television sets. Naturally none of these universities (Yeshiva included) permit on-campus drinking, but some of them have curfews as early as 11:00 PM on the weekdays. And to put things a bit more in perspective: 55 percent of male and 45 percent of female graduating seniors at BYU leave married (because of restrictions against pre-martial sex). Even with extended van service between the Wilf and Beren campuses, Yeshiva's statistics don't even come close. I'm not saying we need to adopt these social guidelines, but it's clear that these schools are not afraid of their religious identity.
Of course, the natural response to the round of statistics cited above is that Yeshiva is nothing like any of these schools. We have (or at least pretend to have) high academic standards. We foster intellectual freedom and speech of professors and students - as such, the signing of a NY Times petition against Israeli settlements by some Yeshiva faculty a few years ago did not materialize into contact termination. We consistently bend over backwards to show how liberal we are, how much we value intellectual freedom, and how much we are like every other liberal university in this country. Even if it's not Harvard, we look at schools like NYU and Boston College and pretend we can be them. But for what purpose? We can strive for the same academic standards and the same graduate school acceptance rates, but we are ideologically different, which means our curriculum and departments must reflect this reality. We are here to learn the value of the examined life, and one that speaks to the Jewish consciousness.
As Yeshiva College undergoes a curriculum review and as we begin a search for a new dean, these are the priorities. Why have we yet to successfully incorporate a Great Books curriculum in the college? Why is there little discussion of how Judaism shapes the identity of the Yeshiva student and how secular studies enriches it? Why do members of our administration not speak about Torah u-Madda with job candidates? If we want to be a first-class Torah u-Madda institution, and the only one in the world for that matter, then our faculty and curriculum should reflect that.
Schaefer's heartwarming portrayal of the students of BYU and their quest for a knowledgeable and enriched life made me jealous of their education. Surely her small sampling should not be mistaken to be representative of the entire student body, but there was a sense of shared mission. And the intimate and intellectually stimulating environment at Thomas Aquinas College, in spite of its harrowing parochialism, appears like idyllic haven to study the Great Books. Though on occasion I have taken courses that reflect this intellectual feeling, it doesn't happen enough around here.
It would be all too brazen for me to assume I'm the only one who gets Yeshiva. History shows us that the "true" Yeshiva identity has been disputed since inception 76 years ago. Students have always asked for a clarification of the Torah u-Madda "synthesis." And perhaps we are no better. But despite the questioning, at least they always knew that Yeshiva was unique. That's the first place to begin thinking about the direction of our future. So we look for inspiration from our predecessors. Clearly the following words, printed in a Commentator editorial sixty years ago, are as relevant today as it was then.
In the past it has become increasingly evident that there exists an urgent need for orientation. By orientation we do not mean merely a closer fraternization among students; nor do we refer only to the lower classmen. We think there is a tragic lack of understanding among many students of what Yeshiva College is, what is stands for and what it is attempting to do.
Too often the word "synthesis" has been thrust into our faces; in our hearts and minds we are still confused over its meaning. "Yeshiva College attempts to effect a synthesis of religious and secular studies," we have been often told. What does this mean?
Some of us think that to effect a proper synthesis we must enter the institution with few preconceived notions, with a sort of tabula rasa, and then, faced with a world of religion and world of secularism, we must juggle them around somehow until a state of peace and harmony exists between them. The result us that religious convictions are lost and secular studies leave a bad taste in the mouth.
By "synthesis" we must understand not a co-existence of equals but an integrated system of religious and secular ideas based on the eternal verities of our religion. We begin our career here with the basic postulates of Orthodox Judaism. Then, as we continue our studies, we fit the secular ideas into the religious pattern, thus broadening our understanding and enriching our religious life.
This is a message we shall attempt to bring home to students time and time again. We prefer to pronounce the name of our institution as YESHIVA College, not Yeshiva COLLEGE.
Zev Nagel can be reached at zev@yucommentator.com