A Story about a Rabbi, Followed by a Letter (in Kol mevaser)

A Story about a Rabbi, by Berish Rozenblum

One of the most important things that the government has introduced in Russia to improve education among Jews is the decree that each community must choose a learned rabbi who has studied in a rabbinical seminary. It would truly be excellent if among Jews there were to be found educated rabbis who knew how to speak with people and knew how to get along in the world. Unfortunately, such rabbis do not yet exist and even if they did, they would be distrusted. The blame for that falls on both sides—on the common people and on the new rabbis. Yet if you think about it, the common people may have more of an excuse. It is a common saying that an older person will always defer to a younger one, and there is truth to it. If the common people were a bit more educated, they would understand what kind of rabbis they need and would no doubt treat them better. But those rabbis that have already had a bit of education and take great pride in it, often behave badly. Many of them do things that it is a shame to talk about. By now the Jewish population is unfortunately so fed up that people don’t even want to take the trouble to choose a rabbi with a higher diploma and a certificate of good behavior from his school. As a result, no candidate wants to go through the drudgery of studying. What good does it do him? If he is learned, he will get little respect for it. If he has little learning, he knows for certain that nobody cares about that and it will not be an obstacle for him. If someone does come to a city and wishes to become the rabbi there, all he has to do is to come to an understanding with certain people—highly esteemed persons whose path to heaven consists of busying themselves with communal needs and with virtuous actions on behalf of the common good. One word from them, and the candidate can rest easy. No need to worry about the shoemakers and tailors—the views of people of that class is not an issue. It is easy to understand that where money plays the chief role, nothing good will come of it. Understandably, such rabbis cannot carry out the mission that the government has entrusted them with. They do not dare raise their voices at an assembly of the leaders of the community and state that in communal affairs there should be new arrangements that are more in harmony with our times. It is after all only recently they came to these same leaders seeking their votes in the selection process. They do not dare explain to the common people that it is time to get rid of the old rags and not continue to pursue the former ways. They are afraid that if they do that, they will anger the community leaders and thereby lose their favor—which for many reasons they cannot afford to do. Can anything new be expected from such people, whom money has misled to the point where they forget that their obligation is to expand education among the common people and to explain eloquently what a good thing it is? They are supposed to lead the blind onto the right path, not constantly to think about themselves and do everything only for their own benefit. When this will all end, we do not know. We can only hope that education, which these days has accomplished such wonders, which encompasses all things and changes everyone for the better, will also change the rabbis, so that the ugly things that happen now will cease. But for now it is hard to console oneself with hopes for the future. Educated people have become accustomed to hearing and seeing rabbis in other countries who are truly great men. Their lofty words touch everyone. They delight their communities with their splendid sermons. They earn the respect of all with their piety, their kindness, their education, their religious learning, their honesty, their truthfulness and the work they perform for the common good. But the educated person who loves the Jewish people will suffer great pain when he sees that in our largest Jewish communities the position of rabbi is filled with nonentities unworthy of such a noble title. Many of them—can you believe it?—have almost no understanding of our sacred Hebrew tongue!!!

(To be continued)

Berish Rozenblum, Berdichev

Letter (in Kol mevaser), by Menashe Margolis

The readers of Kol mevaser need to be told, first of all, that the new rabbis have already been written about everywhere. They have been denounced and defended and reasonable people understand what the new rabbis are, what they need to do and what they cannot do. We are pleased that they are already being discussed in Kol mevaser. We do not agree with Reb Aaron Rozenfeld who says in Number 15 of Ha-melits that Reb Berish Rozenblum should not have written about it in Kol mevaser because the common people do not need to know about such things. On the contrary: it is precisely the common people, for whose sake the new rabbis have been appointed, who need to know who their leaders are. The common people have enough sense and experience to understand these matters. So while Reb Berish did nothing wrong by writing, he was mistaken in what he said about the new rabbis—that they are just interested in the money. That is too strong, because the majority of them truly love Jews, have defended them and written good things about them. They come forward when it is necessary to put in a word in favor of the Jews. We wouldn’t have cared if Reb Berish had said that there are some bad people among them, some who are not versed in Jewish religious texts, don’t know Hebrew well and do little for the community—there is a disgrace in every family. In that case we would have seen that he is serious. He could have pointed out serious flaws and examined things from all sides. But to denounce them all and say they are all swindlers is unworthy. Reb Berish wanted to prove that for the sake of the money, the new rabbis do not even venture to tell their fellow-townsmen to get rid of their traditional “old rags.” We have already seen what resulted when they are told that: there is an outcry, a clamor, a meeting is called and the outcome is—the rabbi “can’t get along with the public,” that the new rabbis want to enlighten the people by force, and so forth. It seems to us that even Reb Berish himself cannot have intended that. Everyone understands the words get along with the world to mean knowing how to deal with ordinary people, not to incite them against themselves. And even if he did intend that, he would not ask for tearing off “rags.” Secondly, let us not fool ourselves—do you really think that a rabbi has the power with his words to order people to cast off their traditional clothing? That is a mistake: people who since childhood have believed deep in their hearts that it is holy, cannot be helped by anyone, not even foreign rabbis with their fine phrases. It would be a transgression for a rabbi to tear away from people what they consider sacred. Have you not felt what it means to take from someone what his life is centered on—for example to take a boy away and send him to a Hasidic rebbe? You would struggle, wouldn’t you? Yet you demand that the common people should tear off the “old rags” and who of all people is supposed to do it? The new rabbis! We have already seen how a new rabbi who allowed himself to be led by such Reb Berishes to denounce “old rags” in his sermon: they wanted to drag him down from the pulpit. Luckily for him, the governor was present. If our new rabbis want to be useful, let them not preach about such things—let them live in such a way as to prove to the people that education is useful for a person. Let them help the masses with whatever they can. Let them enlighten the young, in whose tender hearts good seeds can still be sown. Let them get it out of their heads that old people can be made over. [ . . . ]

Now we want to ask the editors: after Reb Berish’s text, they commented that “as a whole” the article is too strong, “although it is true.” Presumably the words “it is true” refer to the article “as a whole.” In other words, you thought it over and decided that it was true. Later, when Reb I. Shur wrote to you that it could not be true, you added that you accept his letter, though it doesn’t quite claim that the article is a lie. Then you add: “after all we ourselves certainly don’t know the truth.” So the question is: how is it that you already doubted what you at first claimed to be certain of? We want to ask something else. Under Reb I. Shur’s letter in Number 14 you note that “we have to accept it and not make too many inquiries.” We were pleased with that. One or the other: if someone writes the truth, then let the world know about it. If he writes a lie, it won’t be passed over in silence and the writer will be ridiculed. That will make certain that other writers will think twice before they write something. That is what other editors do as well.

A week later, in Ha-melits, you state that Reb Berish’s article sat on your desk for several months and you didn’t have the stomach to publish it. It would appear that you are not obliged to accept everything that you don’t care for. Afterwards you got a letter that informs you that such and such people are offended because you didn’t print their article. So you printed it. At this point we don’t understand it at all. If you believe that it’s not necessary to make inquiries, why did you have to wait until they wrote to you? If you believe that it is necessary to make inquiries, why didn’t you make them? Why did you remain stuck in the middle? Only when someone came along and slandered Rabbi P. did you declare the matter closed.

We ask you, if you really are concerned with the truth, to print this letter and provide us with answers to all our questions. If you clearly tell the truth, we will admit that you are right. If we do not admit it, it will mean that we rely on the judgment of the readers of Kol mevaser. The public knows where the truth lies. In order to show that we are not ashamed of Kol mevaser and mean it seriously, we sign our name:

Kiev, April 21, 1864, Student M. Margolis