Rabbis or bartenders – synagogues or pubs?
By SHALOM HAMMER
02/23/2013 22:23
Perhaps this Purim certain rabbis should wear their costumes and refrain from drinking, lest they reveal their internal character, which may prove to be rather unsightly for them and their congregations.
Religious men drink on Purim. Photo: REUTERS
The great Rabbi Chaim Soloveitchik of Brisk once explained that the main
obligation of a community rabbi was to perform acts of kindness and exhibit
compassion toward the members of his congregation and community. However, there
are some rabbis today whose interpretation of this responsibility is a far cry
from Rabbi Soloveitchik’s intention, as was revealed in an article which
appeared last week in The Wall Street Journal describing the latest tactics
certain rabbis implement in their synagogues to draw more members and please
their congregants. Surprisingly, these tactics do not consist of sermons,
innovative programs, informative lessons or espousing truisms as one would
typically expect; these rabbis accomplish their goal by encouraging their
constituents to imbibe exorbitant amounts alcoholic beverages and consume kosher
delicacies in sumptuous, gluttonous feasts.
The article explains how,
come Saturday, the holy day of Shabbat, the atmosphere at “The Shul” in Bal
Harbor, Florida, turns festive as eating and drinking kick in early on in the
day as its “spiritual” leader, Rabbi Shalom Lipsker, encourages “party time”
after early services for its predominantly male crowd.
“The Shul” (a name
which arrogantly suggests that it embodies everything a shul/synagogue should
exemplify) becomes a place where men prove their machismo and flaunt their
earnings as they indulge in a lavish Kiddush, which is described as a
“postservice fellowship hour adorned by boozy and overthe- top
spreads.”
The word “kiddush” in fact stems from the Hebrew word “kadosh”
which means to sanctify; an aspiration in Judaism which is accomplished through
prayer services and sessions of Torah study. Rabbi Lipskar proudly declares how
he has solicited donors for a special “Kiddush bank” to fund the pricey
libations and epicurean fare that can cost anywhere from $1,800 to $3,600 per
week.
“It is perfect,” says Lipskar, “God didn’t make the delicious stuff
only for non-Jews.”
Perhaps Lipskar understands what God created
“delicious stuff” for, but he certainly seems to have forgotten what God created
a synagogue for.
Ironically this article was published during the same
week the Torah portion of Trumah would be read in the synagogue; a portion which
instructs the Jewish people to donate their monies toward the construction of
the holy Tabernacle in order to facilitate worshiping God in a reputable manner,
through sacrificial offerings and introspective prayers. The Torah details the
materials and precise dimensions of the utensils which would be crafted after
procuring the funds; there is no mention whatsoever of expensive alcohol or
opulent treats.
Lipskar, a Hassidic Jew, explains that before Jews drink
their hard liquor, they proclaim “L’chaim” – referring to the traditional Jewish
toast, “to life.” He continues by insisting that “this is not a drinking fest
because the drinks are in small cups”; as he excuses the excessive behavior only
to refer later on in the article to the fact that last year there was a
particular donor whose “driver” would appear every Shabbat carrying a leather
suitcase with a giant, 1.75-liter bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue label tucked
inside. At the Saturday Kiddush, a special volunteer handed out shot glasses of
the $500 scotch, to which Lipskar repugnantly remarks, “It went pretty
fast.”
IN AN attempt to make sense of the rabbi’s actions the article
explains that in the face of dwindling attendance at religious services, many
rabbis have had to become similarly creative; hence we are introduced to Rabbi
Marc Schneier. Schneier plans his synagogue’s summer worship in New York’s posh
Hamptons community by lining up guest speakers, and considering ways to improve
the synagogue’s martini bar. Robert Fischer, a friend of the rabbi, unashamedly
explains how the “L’chaim” table of high-priced spirits is the most popular
feature of The Hampton Synagogue’s Saturday summer service because “there is
always vodka, an assortment of single malts, and tequila.”
Schneier
explains that he infuses his congregants with the understanding that one can
enjoy the materialisms that this world has to offer as long as a Jew remembers
that “everything is about the M-word: not Martinis, but about
moderation.”
This objective certainly sounds pious, but coming from a
rabbi whose congregation spends an average of $10,000 a week on the Kiddush, one
realizes that the M-word most fitting for a rabbi like Schneier would be
“materialism,” or how about “Macallan”; certainly not moderation or modesty.
Perhaps it is unfair to judge Schneier and his congregation so harshly, for it
appears that his motivation is instructive – after all, every Kiddush at the
Hamptons synagogue includes 12 types of herring, which represent the twelve
tribes of Israel. Indeed, the rabbi exerts creative energy to find ways to
incorporate education into his weekly $10,000 buffet budget.
I recall
when I attended yeshiva there was a requirement to complete an academic degree
in Jewish education or Jewish history together with the rabbinic ordination, but
maybe the yeshiva got it all wrong. Perhaps I would have been better served to
have completed a bartending course or a party planning or catering course to go
along with my rabbinic requirements. On the other hand, the question really
becomes what exactly is wrong with these rabbis? Were they limited in their
knowledge of Torah or of the Talmud such that they were unable to find some
words of wisdom with which to inspire their congregation? Had they never
prepared a sermon which would sincerely urge their members to pray and to
appreciate the moral obligations of what it means to be a religious Jew? Could
they not council their congregants with thoughtful insights on the priorities of
life? Or, sadly, was the only insight they had to offer their members whether
one should take their martini stirred or shaken? The Lincoln Square Synagogue
recently announced the formation of its own “L’Chaim Club,” asking members to
contribute $100 for the purchase of liquor. In doing so, the synagogue’s
bulletin added, a person can partake of the booze “guilt-free.”
Guilt
free?! Imagine the amount of charities these people could help support if they
were willing to drink Johnny Walker Black instead of Johnny Walker Blue. It
appears that these so-called religious leaders have not only shamefully
forgotten the role they are supposed to play within the Jewish community, but
even worse, they have allowed their congregants to forget what it means to be a
spiritual Jew, or perhaps they never taught them in the first place; they have
transformed the divine synagogue into a selfish playground for adults who still
chase their childish fetishes.
The only rabbi quoted in the article who
expressed his disappointment with these shenanigans was Rabbi Tzvi Hersh
Weinreb, executive vice president emeritus of the Orthodox Union, who said, “It
is very upsetting. It is not in keeping with Jewish standards of modesty.” Even
more upsetting is why these rabbis manage to get away with this disgraceful
behavior, which can only be labeled Hilul Hashem (the Hebrew term for the sin of
publicly mortifying God’s name).
This is because unfortunately
“everything is about the M-word – money.” The communities mentioned above are
extremely affluent; their membership consists of very wealthy people who wield
power within the Jewish world, and regrettably these rabbis hide behind the
comforts of their friendship rather then confronting them regarding their
behavior, which compromises the dignity of the synagogue.
We celebrate
Purim by dressing up in costumes and drinking merrily. The costumes serve as a
statement that regardless of what we might look like on the outside we maintain
an internal sincerity which facilitates who we are and what we represent. We
drink plentifully because alcohol induces the revelation of one’s internal
thoughts and character; again something which we are not ashamed to do based on
the confidence we have in our integrity. Perhaps this Purim certain rabbis
should wear their costumes and refrain from drinking, lest they reveal their
internal character, which may prove to be rather unsightly for them and their
congregations.
The writer teaches at Yeshiva Hesder Kiryat Gat and serves
as a lecturer for the IDF Rabbinate, as well as for the Menachem Begin Heritage
Center Israel Government Fellows. He is also an author and lecturer on
Israel, Religious Zionism and Jewish education. www.rabbihammer.com