2008 Woodie Awards
Identity Crisis
Aaron Schultz
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Zev Eleff's column in the previous edition of The Commentator, "Our Yeshiva, Our Newspaper, and Our Yirei Shamayim University," grapples with some of the most contentious issues facing students as both b'nei Torah and aspiring college graduates. Were these concerns merely trivial commie banter, I would have contained my silence, yet their significance and pervasiveness compel me to air a different point of view.
In this article on eclectic YU matters, Eleff first mentions the oft-dealt with topic of the Yeshiva's correlation with the University. Although broached recently, this subject has reared its controversial head many times before. In fact, Rav Soloveitchik dealt with this very point in an address to rabbinic alumni in 1956. In his talk, the Rav explained in detail the function of our two-headed institution: "I claim that the true greatness of Yeshiva is that it does not have…synthesis. The greatness of the yeshiva is that it is a real yeshiva and on the second level, a proper academic institution. Both divisions function without synthesis and compromise. We have a yeshiva, and because the times demand it, we also have a university. In other words, our yeshiva serves as a continuation of a mesorah dating back thousands of years, while our university acts as a "Yirei Shamayim College" to address the needs of a modern orthodox community willing to confront and engage the outside world. The Rav capped off this idea with the following: "These two divisions will not be synthesized. They will remain two institutions."
Viewing our institution in this perspective, mitigates many of the questions directed towards YU. Questions such as: "How can a yeshiva provide access to and even occasionally encourage watching TV?" and "How can a prestigious liberal arts college refuse to teach certain subjects?" now have an answer. Granted, watching TV, using uncensored internet, or housing a mixed library has no place in a yeshiva which continues the legacy of Europe's fortresses of learning, yet altz the university, they serve an important function and have their place. And yes, an open-minded college advocating freedom of expression should, of course, feel free to preach and teach all areas of study. The halakhic considerations of our yeshiva, however, take precedence over this academic tenet.
Eleff articulates a slightly different, albeit widespread view. In the eyes of many, we are a yeshiva of a different ilk, one where our limudei kodesh v'chol combine to enhance our "Hakhmat ha-Olam." We should not "treat YU like the offspring…of the great Volozhin yeshiva…We are very different." I interpreted this outlook as follows: While Torah institutions of old expunged the secular from their curriculum, we intentionally embrace other disciplines, incorporating them into our rigorous schedule with the intended purpose to shtim their messages and emerge with a fortified truth. Eleff has not originated this outlook; many others espouse an identical attitude. However, this typical elucidation of Torah u-Madda contains shortcomings that necessitate a different understanding altogether.
First, the creation of a new prototype yeshiva, combining many forms of worldly hokhmah to simmer and fuse in a melting pot along with the typical gemara and halakha, is not a simple endeavor. While other fields of learning do enhance our understanding of Hakadosh Barukh Hu they have no place in the daled amos of the beit midrash. A yeshiva is the place of learning Torah, period. In a Yirei Shamayim University, navigating for G-d in an expansive sea of secular knowledge is a venerable task, but why bring this search into the hallowed study of Torah, where G-d's presence emanates from our sacred texts? Who are we to deviate from the path traversed by our sages for generations, to open the yeshiva's doors to the Haskalah which they tried so hard to counter? What precedent do we have in our halakhic literature to incorporate these studies into our Torah learning, with the purpose of arriving at a truth emanating from their unharmonious tension? Heck, I can't even translate "dialectic" for a search on Bar Ilan's CD! Rav Soloveitchik himself emerged from the Brisk and the
Second, Eleff advises us to search for "personalities…willing to face the realities and complications of Yeshiva's Torah u-Madda." But where are these leaders? We cannot, as the article notes, bemoan the lack of R' Aron Lichtenstein or THE Rav; our generation thirsts for our own captains to satiate current hashkafic quandaries. I would have expected the womb of Torah u-Madda to give birth to more offspring capable of shepherding the younger flock. The movement's inability to produce at least a handful of world-class role models in the last few decades may itself shed light on the practicality and legitimacy of the ideology.
The onus falls upon us students. Only we spend our mornings immersed in the pages of Talmud, only later to soak in differential equations and chemistry labs. Only we face this perplexing existence, scurrying from the beit midrash, to the library, and finally back again. The information directed towards us can sometimes have a drowning effect, and situating our feet in two worlds causes dizziness. We need separation. This outwardly schizophrenic reality may seem hard to swallow, yet we must split Jekyll from Hyde. Once achieved, fusion of the two disciplines should take the form of osmosis, with a permeable membrane in between; the cellular process of prophase, a mixing and matching of chromosomes, will only form a new DNA, a DNA differing from the hashkafic genes already transmitted for many generations.
We say on motzei shabbos, "ata honantanu l'madda torasekha." This plea for Torah knowledge manifests itself in the course of our morning hours, when we look as yeshiva-ish as Volozhin, Mir, or Slobodka. Our afternoon hours concentrate on attaining a degree, one just as authentic as