By now, members of the mainstream and mobile media have had a chance to read and respond to "Orthodox Paradox," Noah Feldman's recent piece in The New York Times Magazine about his alienation from the Orthodox community. Most people react with "You can't be expect to be part of the Modern Orthodox community
and intermarry. You can't have it both ways." But the clash between the traditional and the contemporary is itself the titular paradox, and a particular problem of a more liberal approach to Orthodoxy.
It's not just the daily choices faced by modern Jews -- it's those choices in the context of previous and future choices. Your decisions have weight not just on their own but as part of each other. It's like Jewish Jenga: pull out one piece and you're OK -- unless the whole thing falls down.
Like it or not, intermarriage is a part of the contemporary Jewish American scene. Liberal communities struggle with the issue regularly; but because intermarriage is rarer in the religious community, Orthodoxy even in its most "modern" iteration isn't emotionally or logistically equipped to deal with it happening to one of their own. Intermarriage might be, as others have alleged, the solitary destructor of the Jewish People. And then again, maybe it isn't.
In this case, the Orthodox response is that intermarriage is unforgivable and, therefore, Feldman as its symbol should be cut off as a lesson for all the day-school boys and girls. But are they also asking questions like, "How does 'one of ours' find himself in this situation? Is it really that bad? And how can we deal with it?"
One instinct clearly is to cut "problem children" like Feldman out of the picture. But as time goes on, other day-school graduates may emerge with different approaches to living Jewishly -- whether that means becoming radical environmentalists, secular Zionists, gay rabbis, actors and comedians, or staying single into your 30s. Who knows? Anything outside the ordinary and it's a problem.
So never mind the invocation of Yigal Amir and Baruch Goldstein, or the story about the doctor's note about saving non-Jews. I find myself reading Feldman's treatise for information that isn't there. Where did his alienation begin? Was there a disparity between the messages he received at school and the ones he received at home? Was it standard dissonance between the values of Judaism and the mores of contemporary American society? Was there a flaw in the education system that didn't get Feldman the answers he needed? And did the community ever reach out to make him feel valued and welcome?
Was his fiancee-now-wife ever interested in conversion? How did they meet? Was this issue ever an issue in their relationship? Did they have a conversation about how to raise their kids? Did they consult with a rabbi or other adviser? How did their parents feel, and should that be a model for the acceptance of the community? Did they find a place to be Jewish? Would the community have reacted better if the fiancee had gone through a conversion of convenience to gain the sanction to marry Feldman? Was the issue with the photo -- the Crop Heard Round the World? And with his knowledge of the Orthodox world, what exactly did Feldman expect would happen?
While strict Orthodoxy encourages more complete separation, Modern Orthodox yeshiva day schools convey a dual message with many shades of nuance that propose a contemporary compromise boundaried by foggy guidelines. This duality, difficult to maintain, results in choices like "eating dairy out," "taking the 'Shabbos train' to Friday night dinner" and being "shomer Shabbat up to seven floors and then taking the elevator and pushing the button with your elbow as a ‘shinui’ [change]." "Engage in the world, but not too much." "Connect with modern life, but only under these conditions." Modern observant Jews are like Moses on the mountaintop, being shown a land they will never possess: "Hey, do you see that? Awesome, isn't it? But not for you."
Feldman's piece undoubtedly will ripple into many other conversations before it fades from American Jewish memory. But there’s this nagging feeling that maybe it's Modern Orthodoxy, with its double message, that can't have it all.
