I have to get something off my chest – In 2012, I served as the interim rabbi of Ner Tamid. During that time, the shul conducted a national search to find a rabbi. I was one of the candidates, and appropriately given the same treatment as the others. There was a formal interview, there was a single Shabbos that was considered my try-out, or probba Shabbos, a town-hall style meeting. All good.
But then I was asked to have a second town-hall meeting. How did I merit to have a second meeting?
Apparently, some people were nervous. “Rabbi Motzen is a graduate of Ner Israel – the ultra-ultra-ultra-Orthodox institution. What is he going to do to our shul?” So this town-hall meeting had very specific questions about what practices I would impose on the congregation. Would I continue saying Hallel on Yom Haatzmaut? (Yes) Would I open the parking lot to cars on Shabbos? (No) And my favorite – would I ban the congregation from having televisions or the internet?
I love the assumption of the question, that I could just waive my hands, maybe write a short little email, and voila, everyone would unplug their modems and throw their 45-inch screen TVs in the garbage. Unfortunately, I have no such power. I could barely get my children to go to sleep at their bedtime…
I think I laughed out loud when that question was asked. Of course I would not be banning the internet. But the older I get, the more removed from my time at Ner Israel I get, the more I realize that maybe I should not have laughed at that question.
In 1516, the Jewish community of Venice was forced to live in a segregated part of the city. The Jewish quarter became known as a ghetto. The meaning of the word ghetto is unclear. Some suggest that it comes from the Venetian word, geto, which means foundry, as the very first ghetto was built on an old foundry in the city of Venie. Others suggest that it comes from the Yiddish gehekts, which means closed in, which is exactly what a ghetto is, a closed-in area. Some argue that it comes from the Old French word, guect, which means to guard, as the function of the ghetto was to protect the Christian from the “negative” influences of the Jewish People. Ghettos were an on-and-off feature of European life, and they reached their nadir with the over 1000 ghettos constructed by the Nazis.
Although historians suggest that the ghetto in 16th century Venice was the very first ghetto in history, it’s not true. When Yosef’s family joins him in Egypt, he spends significant time coaching them on how to speak to Paroah to ensure that they end up living on their own in a city called Goshen. The Torah records this dialogue in great detail. Rashi suggests that Yosef wanted them in Goshen for entirely pragmatic reasons – they were shepherds and Goshen was a pastureland. However, the vast majority of Biblical commentaries disagree. Ramban, Kli Yakar, Netziv, Rav Hirsch, and even Josephus argue that Yosef’s intention was entirely spiritual. Egypt was the center of civilization but also the center of decadence and immorality. Yosef was desperate to keep his family away from the pull and attraction of Egyptian culture.
You see, there is another type of ghetto. One that is not imposed from the outside, it is imposed from within. As opposed to the ghetto wall put up by our enemies to keep us away, this second type of ghetto wall is put up by ourselves to allow us to build and develop.
The children of Yaakov faced an incredible challenge. They were a new nation, made up of barely a hundred people. How would they develop their own culture? How would they develop their own sense of self? And so Yosef wisely encouraged his family to live far away from the Egyptian capital so that they would have a chance to come into their own.
It was in Goshen that the children of Yaakov adopted distinct names and held onto their native tongue. It was in Goshen, in this self-imposed ghetto, that the children of Yaakov became the Nation of Yisrael.
This second type of ghetto was immortalized by none other than Trevor George Smith Jr., otherwise known as Busta Rhymes, a popular rapper. In one of his most well-known songs, called, The Ghetto, he describes how his culture, Black culture, thrived and developed in what he described as their own ghetto, the Black neighborhoods in New York. (I cannot quote a single verse from the song, so you’ll have to trust me.) In those neighborhoods concentrated with others of the same background, they were able to come into their own, creating a strong and unique culture.
There are still self-imposed Jewish ghettos around the world. In Meah Shearim and in New Square, there are communities of people who are deliberately running away from all other cultures. But the Goshen-Ghetto model is for the most part a thing of the past. That’s not the way we nor most of the Jewish People live today. If anything, we are far more like Yosef who lives in two worlds, the cultured, sophisticated man of the world, AND the spiritual and devout Jew.
But I sometimes wonder who’s right? Is it the Jew in Meah Shearim who does not know have to hear cruel jokes about the murder of the CEO of United Health Care, or is it me, able to quote Bava Basra and Busta Rhymes? Am I really better off?
As I sift through the books in the library, forced to choose between appropriate and inappropriate children’s books for my little ones, as I quickly scroll past ads on social media that would make most of our parents blush, as I am bombarded by ideas that do not in any way align with a Jewish way of life, I have to wonder if maybe pulling the plug on my modem would be the right thing to do. Even Yosef, Mr. Cosmopolitan, recognizing the dangers of his lifestyle, helped his family set up a self-imposed ghetto. This world is unsafe in more ways than one.
Despite my reservations, my modem is staying plugged in. I do not have a television but if I did, I would not throw it out, and like I told you twelve years ago, I don’t think you have to throw yours out either.
But for those of us who choose to live this Yosef lifestyle, immersed and engaged in the exciting and beautiful world around us, our connection to Judaism has to be stronger than those in Meah Shearim, not weaker.
There is a strange phenomenon where those who are more cultured and more connected to the broader culture, are often weaker in their religious observance. That is completely backward. And it’s not sustainable.
To be a Yosef, to engage in modern culture, we need to be honest with ourselves and say that not everything out there is good. A starting point is a filter on every device. But it’s more than that – we need to be disciplined and distinguish between good culture that is clean and wholesome and expansive, and bad culture that fills my mind with stupidity or worse.
To be a Yosef, to live in a world filled with ideas that are anathema to Jewish values, we need to be saturated with Torah so we could know who we are and what we stand for. Whatever amount of Torah they are learning in sheltered communities, we need to be learning double!
The other week it was freezing one morning, about 15 degrees, not including the wind factor. I had planned on going for a run and now I had two options. It’s freezing outside; I could stay indoors and stay warm. Or, I could run like… like a beast. I ran almost double my regular speed that day, I was dripping with sweat by the time I got home. Had I ran my regular pace I probably would have gotten frostbite.
I’d like to believe the benefits of being connected to the world around us outweigh the benefits of hiding away. Keep the internet. Keep your tv. But if we go down this path, we must follow in the steps of Yosef, known as Yosef HaTzadik, the Righteous One, and not just casually trudge along. The only way to thrive or even survive in such complicated conditions, outside the ghetto walls, is to make sure we break into a spiritual sweat.