In the most recent “separate seating” controversy, on the eve of Rosh Hashanah on an El Al flight leaving Israel, a Hareidi man refused to sit next to the woman sitting in the assigned seat next to him. Hysteria quickly spread: a large cohort of men on the flight refused to sit next to women, bribed passengers to switch seats with them, and prayed loudly in the aisles upon refusals of the women. Women were bribed to switch seats with their husbands and mothers to separate from their children, all in the name of maintaining a stringent view of the letter of the law. The ruckus delayed the airplane from taking off, and ultimately landed in the pages of the New York Post.
In the most recent “separate seating” controversy, on the eve of Rosh Hashanah on an El Al flight leaving Israel, a Hareidi man refused to sit next to the woman sitting in the assigned seat next to him. Hysteria quickly spread: a large cohort of men on the flight refused to sit next to women, bribed passengers to switch seats with them, and prayed loudly in the aisles upon refusals of the women. Women were bribed to switch seats with their husbands and mothers to separate from their children, all in the name of maintaining a stringent view of the letter of the law. The ruckus delayed the airplane from taking off, and ultimately landed in the pages of the New York Post.According to the ultra-Orthodox passengers on the El Al flight, Jewish law prohibits a man from coming into contact with–and therefore also sitting next to–a woman who is not a blood relative or a spouse. However, their determination to fulfill what they saw as their religious duty prevented an orderly boarding, and more importantly, blatantly disregarded and insulted a female passenger.
Although not the first incident of its kind, the recent discussion surrounding this event raises a question: are there specific circumstances where adherence to the law that goes above and beyond the letter of the law needs to be set aside for a greater purpose?
The image Jews present to the global community has always been of great importance. With anti-Semitism raging in Europe, the Middle-East filling with radicals who want nothing more than to annihilate the Jewish State, “The Death of Klinghoffer” being featured at the Met in late October, and religious Christians booing Ted Cruz off the stage for pro-Israel and pro-Jewish comments; some positive Jewish PR is seriously needed. At the very least, the source of public condemnation of Jews should not originate from Jews themselves.
I do not proclaim myself to be an expert in Jewish law, but sometimes it is appropriate to avoid instigating a chilul Hashem, an act that may elicit condemnation of Judaism or God, at the expense of a strict adherence of certain Jewish laws. In certain circumstances, there are other values that come into play, and perhaps override the stringent observance of the the law. The El Al incident is an extreme example where members of the ultra-Orthodox community needed to balance their strict adherence of the the letter of the law with something more: morality, common sense, and the bigger picture of Jewish observance.
However, when it comes to understanding the role of observing the letter of the law in Jewish practice, I think the Modern Orthodox community is sometimes guilty of the opposite offense than that of the ultra-Orthodox community. Generally speaking, the emphasis that the ultra-Orthodox places on observing Jewish law can be seen as a strength in an area where the Modern Orthodox community often slips in an effort to balance observance with participation in secular society.
For the Modern Orthodox, at times the importance of fulfilling the letter of law can get diluted in a raging sea of secular priorities. Although notably different in nature from the passengers on the El Al airplane, as Modern Orthodox Jews, we grapple with keeping the Torah to the best of our ability while also balancing values from the secular world in which we live. While balancing observance with other competing values, observing Jewish law in its entirety is at risk of becoming just another one of our many priorities and values. We value secular culture, but sometimes at the expense of maintaining Jewish law and our Jewish identity at the core of our beliefs.
The laws of tzniut, modesty, have always been a struggle for me to conceptualize. I love to flip through fashion magazines and sift through the racks of clothing at the mall, yet, the concept of tzniut rarely crosses my mind. After all, why should I want to look different?
But perhaps what really–dare I say it–turns me off sometimes from tzniut, is not the idea of looking frumpy less fashionable clothes, but rather, my difficulty relating to the the stigmas surrounding the laws of tzniut. Afraid to stand out and uncomfortable with the idea that I should dress a certain way for the opposite sex (yes, I know it is really for myself, but that’s not how tzniut is often spoken about), these laws sometimes get lost amidst other secular concerns. So, maybe I should ask myself: at what point do I set aside my conflicting thoughts and submit to Jewish law?
With the ultra-Orthodox needing to veer from one extreme and the Modern Orthodox community often struggling to sift through priorities, a balance between full observance while acknowledging other existing values seems almost unattainable from the ideological standpoints of both communities.
In the El Al incident, the pursuit of adherence to Jewish law was taken to a detrimental extreme. However, in light of the struggles of our own community, before shaming the broader ultra-Orthodox community and labeling devout piety as a negative outgrowth of their community, I think it is necessary to note an important takeaway. Both communities have flaws. The difficulty for both communities resides in understanding where the interplay between adhering to the letter of the law, morality, and other values should exist.
Until that time comes, do we have the right to point fingers?