Ask Me Anything: Rabbi David Silverstein on Truth, Tribalism, & Coming Home

In this special AMA episode of The Curious Jew, the tables turn: producer R’ Corey Gold steps out from behind the scenes to put host R’ David Silverstein in the hot seat, tackling questions submitted directly by listeners.

The conversation ranges widely: from why denominational labels like “Modern Orthodox” are more modern invention than Sinai-given category, to how we can know that our own moral intuitions -- or Judaism itself -- are actually true. R’ David opens up about his own evolution on aliyah, from halakhic technicality to non-negotiable default, and reflects on what real Jewish unity requires in a moment of rising antisemitism and internal division. Along the way, he touches on rabbinic authority, the surprising depth behind the laws of bishul akum, and what it really means to reclaim Jewish identity today.

If you’ve got a question for R’ David, you can submit it for a future episode at this link (https://forms.gle/bPNdfLc3P4kL9ujm9) or email [e-mail].

Chapters

00:02:04 Denominational Labels & Tribalism

00:08:00 Is Modern Orthodoxy the True Heir to Sinai?

00:11:26 How Do We Know Judaism Is True?

00:20:22 When Moral Intuition Clashes With Halakha

00:27:14 Why We Still Need Rabbis

00:32:18 Rethinking Aliyah as the Default

00:38:36 Sinat Chinam, Achdut, and Jewish Unity Today

00:42:58 Antisemitism and the Reawakening of Jewish Identity

00:46:43 The Hidden Depth of Bishul Akum

00:49:31 A Listener's Challenge: What Defines the Brit?

Creators and Guests

Host

Rav David Silverstein

Rabbi David Silverstein is the Sgan (Assistant) Rosh Yeshiva at Yeshivat Orayta in Jerusalem, and previously served as the Director of the Overseas Program at Yeshivat Hesder, Petach Tikva. Originally from New Jersey, Rabbi Silverstein lives with his wife and four children in Modiin, Israel.

What is The Curious Jew?

Judaism is a civilization built on big ideas—about God, morality, community, purpose, and what it means to live a meaningful life. But in a rapidly changing world, how do these timeless concepts speak to our modern reality?

The Curious Jew is a forum for thoughtful conversation, spirited debate, and intellectual exploration of Judaism’s most enduring questions and contemporary challenges. Through engaging discussions with leading rabbis, scholars, authors, and communal figures, we go beyond the surface to examine the core ideas shaping the Jewish future.

Hosted by Rabbi David Silverstein and produced by Yeshivat Orayta, our goal is not simply to provide easy answers, but to cultivate curiosity, challenge assumptions, and inspire a more thoughtful, self-aware, and committed Judaism for the twenty-first century.

Whether you're deeply learned in Torah text or just beginning your intellectual journey, The Curious Jew invites you to join the conversation. New episodes drop bi-weekly.

Questions? Feedback? Have a topic you'd like to hear discussed? Let us know: [e-mail]

Intro music by Mykola Odnoroh.

Rabbi David Silverstein: what are the most
fundamental truth statements of our lives?

And how do we know those are true,

it's important to be mindful
of the fact that denominational

labels did not come from Sinai,

imagine if you're sitting there
at Shalshudis with Moshe Rabbeinu.

You tell him that you have the option
to make Aliyah or go back to Lakewood."

Welcome to The Curious Jew, a podcast
by Yeshivat Orayta, where we challenge

assumptions, explore big ideas, and
think about what it means to live a

Jewish life in the twenty-first century.

Rav Corey Gold: Hello, everybody,
and welcome back to The Curious Jew.

I'm Cory Gold, and I have the
pleasure of working at Orayta

and producing this podcast.

And today I'm stepping out from behind the
scenes to put Rav Dovid in the hot seat.

Rav Dovid has facilitated lots
of wonderful conversations on the

podcast over the past few years,
but listeners have expressed

wanting to hear more from him.

So this time we're flipping the script.

Listeners have submitted
lots of questions.

We won't be able to get through all of
them, but we'll see what Rav, Rav Dovid

has to say about many of them today.

If you have questions, you're welcome
to fill out the Google form linked in

the comments, and in a future episode
we'll try to deal with them as well.

So Rav Dovid, how are you doing?

Welcome to The Curious Jew.

Rabbi David Silverstein: Thank you
Corey I wanna begin by thanking you and

just to broaden your biography in terms
of what your role is in the Yeshiva

aside from being very much behind the
scenes and being my and producing this

podcast you're also a for the post
college program very excited to start

that program with you and also you've
really been integral in st having this

podcast get off the ground So thank you
so much for that I just wanna add one a

point before we start which is if people
have questions the questions don't have

to be specifically about the podcast.

It's an ask me anything model right In
other words you could ask anything I'm

not sure I'll have the answer If you have
something that's on your mind and you want

it to be addressed feel free to fill out
the Google form and we'll try to address

it in the context of future episodes

Rav Corey Gold: Fantastic.

Ready to get started?

Rabbi David Silverstein: I'm ready

Rav Corey Gold: okay, so picking up
on a thread from last episode when

we spoke about outreach in the Modern
Orthodox world, a few listeners were

asking about defining this term.

What does Modern Orthodox actually mean?

Bringing first a question from
Mendy, who asks, "How does the

Rav define Modern Orthodox?

What would he say to people who use the
term but fall outside his own definition?"

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah, so
this is a really good question.

Honestly I think a lot of times when
people think about denominational

labels people are very much connected
to trying to make sense of exactly what

each denominational label means, okay?

And I think oftentimes when we're thinking
about podcasting, we're thinking about

the labels not so much for kind of like
what they essentially mean, but as a

marker to try and make sense of a specific
type of ideology, and think about it in

the context of what we're discussing.

So to broaden the conversation for
a second I would say the following.

I would say that it's important to be
mindful of the fact that denominational

labels did not come from Sinai, this is
very much a modern phenomenon, and it's

very much an Ashkenazi phenomenon, okay?

So if you think about denominational
distinctions, that sort of dominates so

much of the discourse of Jewish life.

So you have Orthodoxy, you have
Reform, you have Modern Orthodox, you

have Charedi, et cetera, et cetera.

And this very much emerges from
the East European German context of

Ashkenazi Jewry, where all of a sudden
you had the rise of Reform, and then

by extension you had the rise of
Ultra-Orthodoxy, and then you had the

rise of Neo-Orthodoxy and the Conservative
movement, et cetera, et cetera.

So honestly, I'm less connected
to these denominational labels.

I actually think they're
probably not the most valuable.

They may have served a very specific
function at a point in Jewish history.

I'm not so convinced right
now they're so critical.

That being said, I do think they're
valuable in terms of creating anchors.

So when I think about Modern Orthodoxy
I think about simply as a system which

is more open to various perspectives
related to the modern world.

That may mean, for example,
openness to academic studies.

That may mean, for example, openness
to cultural or social trends that

don't necessarily emerge from Judaism.

So again, for me, Modern Orthodoxy is
a pretty simple thing, which basically

means openness to the modern world,
a willingness to engage in some

of these more contentious issues.

It doesn't mean that there aren't
yeshivas people who also fit in that

definition, it doesn't mean that there
aren't Modern Orthodox people who may be

less inclined to think in these terms.

But for me, honestly, the way I would
respond to listeners, I wouldn't get

too bogged down in the definitions
of what is Modern Orthodox, what's

Centrist Orthodox, what's YU yeshivas.

I really think these denominational labels
aren't that helpful, and I would try and

move towards a broader definition of just
thinking about a Judaism which is more

holistic, anchored in Halakhic observance,
obviously committed to traditional

theology, and not being Tied to falling
into this camp versus the other camp.

I'll just plug a book I read recently.

There's a scholar in Israel named
Avishai Ben Haim, wrote a book called

HaManifesto- Manifestos Masorti, where
he tries to analyze a trend in Israel

of what he calls traditional Judaism.

And one of the things he points out is
that, again, this emergence in Israel

of the kind of religious, secular, the
Haredi, or in American terms, Reform, the

Conservative, the Orthodox, et cetera.

He again develops this thesis that it
emerges from an all or nothing, like

zero-sum game construct that came
out of the world of Ashkenazi Jewry.

And therefore he says it's not
surprising then the Sephardic

community, they don't have these
definitions because they have a sort

of a different conception of identity.

It's a much broader definition of
traditional Judaism, much broader

sort of formulation when it comes to
understanding nuances within Orthodoxy.

So I would try and move
more in that direction.

I know that doesn't really fully answer
the question in terms of what exactly is

Modern Orthodoxy, but I would probably
say, get a sense of what Modern Orthodoxy

is in the word modern, but I wouldn't
be too married to those definitions.

Rav Corey Gold: But Rav, to the extent
that modern Orthodoxy does identify

a certain community what would you
say actually puts someone outside

of the modern Orthodox perspective?

Rabbi David Silverstein: That's, I
think for this exact question is why

I wanna avoid these labels, right?

'Cause I don't wanna create a
culture of in and out, right?

I don't wanna create a dynamic where
all of a sudden I've taken one step

too far and now I'm out of the modern
Orthodox community, so I have to now,

look to the conservative community or
the liberal Orthodox community or the

Charedi community, I wanna create a model
whereby, people feel, people are taking

Torah seriously, people who are really
committed to the virtues of Torah, right?

So they're part of a conversation.

Again, you could have disagreement
internally, but again, I think the

labeling and the sense that somebody's
in and somebody's out, again I

understand where that came from.

I understand the post-Enlightenment,
German context where those types

of conversations are very helpful.

But I'm not really sure in the
contemporary sort of sociological space

we're in they really produce that much.

I'll just take my own experience.

A lot of times people ask me, like
if you're committed to, let's say, a

certain vision of Zionism in Israel, does
that mean you're a religious Zionist?

So for example, if someone asked me
recently, let's say you reject Rav Kook's

conception of religious Zionism, right?

Religious Zionism in Israel is so
dominated by Rav Kook's conception,

so are you part of the group, right?

So again I try to resist
this kind of tribal thinking.

In other words, like if you're a religious
Zionist and you define yourself that

way and you're more of a rinus guy,
you're more of a salvation Zionism,

okay, so what does it make a difference?

Whether or not you call
yourself a religious Zionist.

What matters is that substantively
you have what to say on the topic

of Zionism, and that can make
you a religious Zionist, right?

So again I'm cautious of these labels
for exactly the reason you mentioned,

is that it tends to generate an in
versus out type of conversation, which

I think is really not that productive

Rav Corey Gold: Ah, Rav
Dovid is post-denominational.

You heard it here first,

Rabbi David Silverstein: I'm definitely
not post-denominational I do think there

are certain boundaries that we have to
work in order to make sense for Judaism.

I don't think anything goes, right?

I do think that there are clear lines
of nor-normative discourse called

orthodox discourse, let's say I'm
interested in an orthodoxy, right?

But I'm interested in more of
a model like you described in

that book by Avishai Ben-Chaim,
where, the orthodoxy is assumed.

Within orthodoxy, we have
a certain framework, right?

Not everything's perceived to
be an ideological break with

the orthodoxy's assumed in that
frame, in that framework, right?

Different people may have
different flavors in terms of how

they experience their orthodoxy.

That's what I would say.

But definitely not post-denominational,
I think would be the correct category.

Rav Corey Gold: Ir- irrespective of
your your hesitation about the labels,

they are a reality of our life, and we
have a couple more questions on them.

The next question from Ben
is, "Do you consider Modern

Orthodoxy the direct descendant
of traditional Judaism from Sinai?

And if so, to what degree?

If not, where's the divergence?"

I guess I'd just say to accept
your premise a little bit, let's

not talk about Modern Orthodoxy so
much, but what about this openness

which you think is definitional
to this community's perspective?

What would you

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah.

I think that, the way Orthodoxy
self-identifies with how it sees itself,

I do think it sees itself very much
as a, as part of an unbroken chain.

There's a sense that Mesorah starts with
Moshe Rabbeinu and continues from Moshe

Rabbeinu to, or Moshe Feinstein or Moshe
Lichtenstein depending on who your sort

of favorite rabbi by the name Moshe is.

But there is a sense of continuity.

There's a sense that, if you were to
go back in time, to-- I always use

this analogy with my students that
like we go back in time to 17th century

in Poland, and then take a detour
and go back to 14th century Turkey.

Go a little further back, go to 11th
century Fez then go even further

back in time and go to second
century Eretz Israel, et cetera.

M-my theory basically is that throughout
all those different spaces, the

language is always different, right?

So if you don't speak French, you
wouldn't be able to get by in France.

If you didn't speak German,
you couldn't get by in Germany.

But there is a Torah conversation that's
been going on for thousands of years,

and therefore you could do a back to
the future type car ride and go into all

different spa- places in Jewish history.

And as long as you could talk in
the language of learning with people

you'd be part of that conversation.

You feel a sense of continuity, a
sense that, nothing has really changed

because we're very much invested in the
same conversation that's been going on

for thousands and thousands of years.

So in that sense, I think it's definitely
true that one of the unique features

of traditional Judaism is a sense that
there is continuity, that there's sort

of evolution but not revolution, that
things are moving, but we're always

connected to that which came before us.

That being said, I think when it comes
to the more modern element of what's

called a modern Orthodoxy, I do think
modernity does have unique challenges.

And I think that some of these questions
of how to navigate the complexities

of modernity the answers aren't always
so precise if you're just looking at

classical sources, which is why you can
have legitimate interpretations among

different rabbinic authorities as to
how to navigate these modern dilemmas.

What I would say basically is that
I do think that Orthodoxy does

claim to be kind of the Traditional
approach to Judaism, which is the most

anchored in the experience of Sinai.

I think it's a fair assessment of how
Orthodoxy perceives itself and how

I perceive the Orthodox experience.

At the same time, I think that the
modern piece is complicated because

I think here you may have different
perspectives, somebody asked me one

time would the Shulchan Aruch of Yosef
Karo, have gone to Camp Moshavah, right?

So nothing against Camp Moshavah, it's
an amazing camp, but the point basically

was that, would certain classical
Halakhic authorities of generations be

okay in a space which is more co-ed?

And I think that's an, a fair
question to ask, and I think the

answer could possibly be no, maybe
he wouldn't have been okay with that.

But it doesn't mean that it's by
definition not Halakhically acceptable,

because part of the anchor of the Masorah
model is that you're acknowledging that,

the challenge isn't black and white.

Going to a co-ed camp is not exactly
the same thing as deciding whether or

not a spoon is milchigs or fleishigs.

At the same time, that's exactly
why you have rabbis in each

generation to help navigate those
sort of modern iterations, right?

Even if there could be
disagreement, it still anchors

you in the same conversation.

That's what I would say in terms
of thinking about whether or

not modern Orthodox is authentic
or what makes it authentic.

I think it's exactly
that sense of continuity

Rav Corey Gold: rav Dovid, your share
in yeshiva was always one for the guys

with the big questions, and there are
more big questions even though you've

dealt with all of those in your time.

So we're gonna pull back here
a little bit, change the topic.

A listener asked, how do we know
Judaism is the right religion?

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah.

Rav Corey Gold: do you think?

Rabbi David Silverstein: Okay
that's definitely a loaded question.

I do

Rav Corey Gold: is Judaism
the right religion?

Let's start there

Rabbi David Silverstein: So yes, this
is actually a question that people

ask me a lot, not that I, have any
specific prophecy on this issue.

But it is a topic that I think
bothers people, and I think that

I've gotten this question both
from students as well as adults.

A-a-I'll sort of provide some framing.

I think that could be helpful
in thinking about the question.

The first thing I would say is I think
whenever a person is trying to tackle

this question, which is obviously a loaded
question, how do you know Judaism is true?

So I think the first thing y- that,
we should ask ourselves is we should

start by taking a step back, right?

Before talking about Judaism I
think that we should ask ourselves,

what are the most fundamental truth
statements of our lives, right?

And how do we know those are true, right?

So if you're somebody who's very
philosophically inclined, you may start

asking really abstract questions like, how
do I know that other people exist, right?

I assume that right now I'm talking
to you, Cory, but how do I know?

Maybe this is an illusion.

Maybe this is a dream.

If you're somebody who's less
philosophically inclined in the abstract,

you may ask a practical question
like, for example, how do I know that

my moral intuitions are accurate?

Everybody has moral intuitions.

Everybody assumes they're true.

Everybody assumes, for example,
you're not allowed to murder to steal.

But how do you know, what's the
source of those moral intuitions?

And if you're less philosophically
inclined than that, and you just wanna

ask some very practical questions, I would
start, prying around the areas of your

life that you take very seriously, that
also you may not have solid philosophical

ground to affirm their truth.

So for example, let's say you're
very committed to the institution

of liberal democracy, right?

And you really believe that's
the way, American governance in

general should be run, right?

And obviously, there are concepts
that underlie the idea of democracy.

How do you know, how do you
know that's true also, right?

Now, the reason why this is relevant
is 'cause I think the most important

thing in navigating this question is
what I call starting with a sense of

epistemological consistency, right?

Epistemology is the
philosophy of knowledge.

So the idea basically is that once you
start asking yourself how do you know

the most fundamental things of your
life that you assume to be givens?

Then you start coming up with
some type of formula to think,

oh, wait a second I'm comfortable
with all these truisms in my life.

How do I know that they're true?

Start thinking it through.

And then you start coming up with
an epistemological model that

you're comfortable with that says,
I'm sufficiently invested in these

things, and I feel sufficiently
engaged to know that they are true.

You would then pivot
and say, wait a second.

Let's say my threshold for truth, for
the purpose of simplicity in my life,

is I have to feel confident that it's a
seven out of ten or an eight out of ten.

Then I move over to Judaism, and I
say, can I make an argument to Judaism

that would be epistemologically
consistent with the other things

in my life that I hold dear?

And I personally believe that if you do
enough research, both in terms of looking

internally to try and figure out what
are your epistemological assumptions and

how seriously do you take them, and then
applying that- Same rigor to Judaism.

I think Judaism will hit the
threshold of the other truisms

that you hold dear, either the same
level of rigor and if not higher.

So the first thing I would say, if
someone's trying to figure out if Judaism

is true, don't start with Judaism.

Start with other areas
of your life, right?

Start questioning and then from
there, move to see whether you could

apply the same framework to Judaism.

I'll just say one last thing about
this, which is that I also think

it's important, I have-- I talk
about this a lot also, what I call

epistemological humility, right?

Is that there's an element of
humility that I think you have

to have coming into the question.

One of the things that mo- one of the
things that modern philosophy and also

modern science has taught us, I think,
not that I'm a trained philosopher or

trained scientist, but what I've read,
I've seen that, a lot of times when you

start to really engage in these types of
questions, you realize how little we know.

A student of mine who went to Oritai,
who's currently studying for a philosophy,

a PhD, told me, he made a comment to
me where he s- he said something like,

"The more you study philosophy, the
more you realize that you don't even

know that your hand exists," right?

Now, why is that relevant?

I'll give you a very
simple example of this.

So I read a book by this professor
I forgot his name, but h-he wrote

a book about theories of happiness.

And he quoted a study in his book about
how the brain processes information.

He said basically that the way the brain
is structured, it can't process all the

information that it receives at once.

So it kind of functions like an email box,
that sometimes it puts certain things in

your spam, certain things in your inbox
and certain things in your drafts, etc.

So therefore, it's processing
reality, but it's never really

seeing reality as it is, right?

And his claim was basically
that at the end of the day, like

we are limited in terms of the
way in which we see the world.

So I think when trying to determine
whether or not Judaism is the religion,

whether you know it, how you know it is
true, again, I think it's unlikely you're

gonna get a ten out of ten argument.

I think in most areas of your
life, the more you study, you'll

realize it's very difficult to
get a ten out of ten argument.

Therefore, if you lower your
expectations and you're a little

more humble, and then you start to
think in terms of consistency, right?

Am I consistent across the board?

I think you can slowly get to a
space where you can make a compelling

argument for Judaism that fits
the category, it fits the mold,

and you won't feel overwhelmed.

I have a lot more to say on
this, but feel free to chime in.

Rav Corey Gold: Interesting.

So that logic would only follow for
someone who accepted the premise

already that they have received
this, they've been born into this.

It's not really speaking to
someone who's outside, right?

Rabbi David Silverstein:
It's a great question.

So there's a really great book by
a scholar named Sam Lebens where he

talks about why he thinks traditional
orthodoxy makes sense philosophically.

And he makes an interesting
distinction in his book between

what he calls sort of practical
rationality and epistemic rationality.

I'm not sure if he gives this
metaphor, but he may, and if he

doesn't it captures the same idea.

He says that anytime we're involved in the
world in terms of interaction with people

and very much the physical realities, to
a certain degree it's gonna compromise our

ability to see things with total clarity.

To give you an example, so let's say,
for example, you were to tell me, Corey,

that my wife is an ax murderer, right?

Now, there obviously would be big
consequences for my wife being an

ax murderer in terms of my life, and
therefore the threshold I would require

for proof would be very high, right?

Because obviously if she's an ax
murderer, I have to get divorced,

it impacts my kids, it impacts
all different elements of my life.

Now, let's say, for example, you were
to tell me- That a basketball player

who plays for the Knicks, I'm a Sixers
fan, so I cannot like the Knicks, right?

Plays for the Knicks, is an ax murderer.

Now, I don't know the basketball
player, it does very-- it doesn't

impact my life really at all.

So I'm more inclined to kinda
have a lower threshold if we're

believing it's true, right?

Now, what are the implications of that?

Let's think for a second.

Would you then say that I
shouldn't get married or I

shouldn't have friends, right?

Because it adversely affects my ability
to see the world as it really is, right?

It puts up a higher threshold for my
relationship with my wife in terms

of determining whether or not sh-
what I'm hearing about her is true.

So obviously not, right?

Because this is what it means
to be human, is to engage in

these meaningful relationships.

He says basically that sometimes something
can be practically rational even if

it's not epistemically rational, right?

So it may be practically rational for
me to, have a higher threshold for my

wife, given all the realities of what it
would do if my wife were an ax murderer.

Even though it's true that
epistemically I should hold

everybody to the same standard.

He uses the same model, what he
calls epistemic rootedness, where

he says, for example, everybody's
rooted in a specific environment.

We can't deny who we are, right?

So it's true that for me, the
threshold that I would need to

believe Judaism is true is lower
than somebody who's an outsider.

'Cause for somebody who's an outsider
they don't have the same emotional

intellectual, cultural attachments to
Judaism that I have, and therefore,

their epistemic rootedness would be such
that they would require a higher proof.

To me, for example, I would require
a higher proof if you tried to argue

to me that Christianity is true.

But that's just a reality
of my life, right?

There's a book called After Virtue
by a philosopher named McIntyre.

Who talks about the idea that
basically we just can't divorce

ourselves from who we are, right?

It would be just a
denial of our existence.

So I think the answer is, yeah, that
obviously if you're born to a Jewish

community, your epistemic rootedness means
that you're more anchored in something.

The threshold is lower.

You're more invested in it.

And therefore, to a certain degree you're
more open to the possibility of that

religious tradition being true, right?

But again, what's the alternative?

What's the alternative to basically
say that I don't exist as a, as an

entity in the context of anything?

What am I gonna do?

I'm gonna try out every single religion
for the rest of my life, right?

That gets back to what I was saying
before about the the sense of

philosophical humility, it's just
not possible to do that, right?

So I have to make choices.

So the way I would think about it is that,
yeah, if you're born to a Jewish tradition

you'd be given the right of first refusal.

And I think for those people, we could be
able to make a case that would demonstrate

why it's philosophically viable and
philosophically makes sense to take a

traditional Judaism orthodoxy first.

Rav Corey Gold: Okay, moving
from epistemology to ethics.

How should someone reconcile their
personal moral compass with issues

that remain unresolved or contentious,
let's say, in psak and ethics?

And the listener threw out some
examples zerut, agunah homosexuality.

What would you say, Rav Dovid?

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah, so
we're definitely doing a Molly MacOdish

model in terms of the questions here.

We've gone from sociological
distinctions and labels to the heaviest

questions you could possibly ask.

So I'm really excited about
these types of questions.

Rav Corey Gold: halfway through

Rabbi David Silverstein: Exactly.

So look, this is obviously a very
complicated question but I'll give

some framing to think about it.

Okay?

And I was really influenced on this topic
by Rav Nachum Rabinovitch who has an

essay called Hamusar Etbe Musar Hatorah.

And basically, here's how
I would think about it.

So the conflict is obvious, right?

That on the one hand you have certain
regulations in the Torah that are

clearly prescribed by biblical law,
and sometimes people find certain

prescriptions to be challenging
from an ethical perspective, right?

So the question becomes how
do you navigate that clash?

So before I specifically, address
that- Rav Naḥman of Bratslav has an,

in his essay, he makes an interesting
observation about a model where

somebody experiences clash, right?

He talks about two different visions
of Avraham in the Torah, right?

The first is Avraham at the
Akeda, and the second is Avraham

in the context of Sodom, right?

That God comes to Avraham and
says, "Kill your son," and

Avraham says, "No problem," right?

And then God comes to Avraham and
says, "I'm gonna destroy Sodom," and

Avraham has a big sort of moral fit
and says, "How is this possible?"

So the question becomes
who's Avraham here?

Is it Avraham the philosopher, or is
it Avraham the obedient eved Hashem?

Which one is it?

So Rav Naḥman of Bratslav says that
the context here is the relevant

variable to understand this distinction.

And he says basically that in antiquity
child sacrifice was the norm, right?

So if it's the norm, Avraham doesn't
perceive sacrificing his son to be a

moral breach because that's the cultural
context in which he's raised, right?

So in that context, it makes
perfect sense for Avraham to say,

"Okay, I'm gonna sacrifice my son."

It even makes sense intuitively, right?

You can imagine someone saying the
ultimate act of religious sort of

a devotion is giving up your most
prized possession, which is your son.

So Avraham said, "Okay, that's
what I have to do, I have to do."

And God tells him not to because God
wants to teach him a lesson about the

limits of natural morality, right?

That basically God's teaching him that if
you only operate within your limited moral

framework, you would sacrifice your son,
and I don't want you to do that, okay?

Now, the flip side of that is
that when it comes to Sodom,

there it's intuitive to Avraham.

The Midrash has this great line where
it says he learned it from guts.

He learned it from, his
teachers were like his organs.

It's intuitive to Avraham that,
killing an entire group for the sins

of if there are other good people
there, is morally problematic.

And God says, "You're right.

It is morally problematic."

So this dialectic that God is
telling Avraham, on the one hand,

moral intuitions are real, right?

That's the case of Sodom.

On the other hand,
they're limited sometimes.

And part of the goal of the Torah
is to teach you things, specifically

in those places which are the
most morally complicated, okay?

So I think if you take that paradigm, then
basically you should be able to create

a model whereby, let's say you had a
situation where there was a moral breach,

moral clash- So how do you navigate that?

First of all, you'd have to really
deeply explore the biblical and

rabbinic literature on the topic,
because a lot of times things that

seem problematic actually with more
investigation are not that problematic.

That's an example where the moral
intuition would cause me to re-engage

the Torah text or the biblical
rabbinic text, and I may find different

interpretations which actually align
with, my sense of right and wrong.

In that case, basically the Torah
aligns with my moral intuition.

But let's say the flip side.

Let's say, for example I do some
research and I find there's no way

to read my moral intuition in the
context of classical Halakhic text.

So then I have to say
to myself wait a second.

Isn't exactly the point of the Torah
to challenge my moral intuitions?"

I've done my homework, I've researched
it, I've thought about it, but

the Torah doesn't only talk about
milchigs and fleishig pots, right?

The Torah doesn't only
talk about laws of Shabbos.

The Torah touches on the most fundamental
elements of our religious and moral lives.

So there are some moments where
all of a sudden you have to say to

yourself, "But yeah, even though it
sounded to me like it was morally

problematic, turns out it's not."

That's exactly the Torah's novelty.

So I think that Rav Nachum Rabinovitch
is actually a good model for this.

He says, "Im yesh hitnakshut ben halakha
lefin ha-hush ha-musari" There's a

distinction, there's a tension between
halakha and your moral intuition.

"Az o yesh pagam ba-hush ha-musari"
That means either you have a

problem with your moral intuition,
"o ba-havanat halakha", right?

Or your problem is with halakha or
with your understanding of halakha.

Why?

"O bishneiem.

Ki b'derech klal ki karon lo
amura le'otzt li'rabbeinem."

But there really shouldn't
be a clash, right?

That we should live a harmonious life.

Now, it's possible to have a situation
where you really can't understand

it, and you have to invoke what I
call the submission clause, which

is say, "I really don't understand
it, but this is the ruch HaShem."

Okay.

But we want to avoid that.

We want to avoid the submissive
model, all things being equal.

And I think when people come up
with controversial topics I think

we should again, A, try and figure
out what is the halakha demand.

B, is our moral intuition reasonable?

And then put them in dialogue and try and
figure out if there's any room for your

moral intuition in the context of Torah.

If not, then try and understand the Torah.

What's the Torah's logic?

What's the Torah's beauty?

What's the Torah's message?

And I think there's a real power of
the religious act, is that it forces

you to go beyond your comfort zone.

So again, I'm not saying I could
solve this problem in a five-minute

podcast clip, but I do think that
this is a way to think about it, which

is to use Avraham as the paradigm.

And even if you reject that
reading of the Akeda, I still

think the principle still stands.

There are some times where our
moral intuitions are valuable,

and they do allow us avenues to
understand halakha differently.

Same time, there are times where they
don't, and we have to basically reframe

our moral intuitions in light of what we
thought was X, which turned out through

the Torah's lens, it's actually Y.

That's how I would think
about that contradiction.

Rav Corey Gold: Nice, Rav David.

That reminds me of something which
I learned from Rav Eli Silverberg,

who in the context of teaching people
how to think about Torah, think about

Gemara, he says that every Halakhic
fact, every, every time we encounter

the Torah, there's simultaneously
a reason for Din and a Chidush.

It's supposed to make sense and
simultaneously it's supposed to push

us beyond what we already thought.

And if you step back from that
for a moment, it can't-- you can't

hold them both simultaneously.

Something can't make sense to you and
also be a Chiddush , a novel insight

that's beyond what you thought.

There's some movement there.

But I think it's a helpful perspective
when we come to these difficult

questions, how do we go about our search?

In fact, When the reason for Din is
totally clear, when the Gemara says

something which is totally obvious,
that the Gemara is actually left

upset because it challenges Peshatta.

I wanted to learn something
beyond what I already knew when I

started, and vice versa as well.

these difficult questions, though
the reason doesn't make sense to me,

at least I'm encountering the chidush

Rabbi David Silverstein: very nice.

I haven't heard that, but that's great

Rav Corey Gold: let's move
on to a different big topic.

Why do we depend so much on Ravanim when
they're as flawed and biased as anyone?

Their prejudices affect their rulings too.

What do you say to this
listener, Rav David?

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah.

So this, it's interesting.

I would say that of these three topics,
A, why truth isn't true, how you deal

with moral clashes, and this one, what's
the, essential necessity of authority?

I think these are questions
that they keep coming up.

I know they come up as much in your
world, but certainly in my world,

they're always coming up, right?

People are always talking about these
things, and you do get a sense that

even though there's been a lot written
on these topics, there still is a real

thirst to try and make sense of these
issues, which I think is important.

The way I would think about it is, I
think there are two working assumptions

that underlie the question, and I would
challenge both of the assumptions, right?

Nu- number one the idea that somehow if
a person has a bias, it all of a sudden

means that what they take serious what
they say is a function of that bias, okay?

So I'll give you an example that you
know, in 2000 and and eight when President

Obama ran for president, so he ran
on a more liberal interpretation of,

Of immigration sort of reform, right?

And he was more open to the idea
of having more open borders, okay?

So why did he do that?

What was his logic?

So he may have really believed that
America's an amazing place, and

we should open up the doors to as
many people as possible who want

to join the American story, right?

Now, you can imagine a social historian
in a thousand years reading what happened

in two thousand and eight and saying,
"Oh, what motivated Barack Obama was

that he knew that most immigrants
vote Democrat, and if he figured if

he flooded the country with immigrants
Democrats would stay in power forever."

Now, that may sound like it
makes a lot of sense, but why

would we assume that, right?

People actually do have beliefs
and ideas that they take seriously.

So if I had overwhelming evidence to
the contrary, okay, I would accept that.

But absent that overwhelming
evidence, like, why would I assume

that a bias is always motivating
a person's decision-making?

See, when it comes to
Chazal, it's the same idea.

In other words, like, why would
we read Chazal in a cynical way to

assume that everything they say is a
function of their sort of historical

conditioning, et cetera, et cetera, A
better way to think about it is that

if there's evidence demonstrating that
somebody's historically conditioned,

okay, then we can think about it.

I think most of the time when you
read Chazal their ideas are intended

to transcend time, that's exactly
the nature of the Torah Shebe'al

Peh, that it's supposed to be
principles that are transcendent.

Now, why would we accept Chazal?

So there are historical reasons
for it, but I think religiously,

the way I would think about it is
that Chazal are perceived to be the

experts in terms of their capacity
to interpret, right, biblical law.

For example, if you read Gemara and
learn Gemara, that it's an open book.

It's not-- It doesn't function
through apodictic law.

Yes, no, and you're supposed
to just assume based on their

authority that they're always right.

You can learn systematically Midrash
Halakha and try and figure out

what was their system for making
sense of how they interpret.

So Chazal basically saying you
wanna disagree, great, disagree.

It's not like the
opportunities aren't there.

I always tell people if you wanna write
a master's thesis or an article in Klum

or somewhere else, and you're trying to
argue that Chazal's method of interpreting

Sukkim is wrong go for it, and if you
really make a compelling argument, it

gets picked up by great post, can-- maybe
you'll change Halakha history forever.

But, absent that, w-why would you
assume that, looking at Chazal, that

they're the ones who are, devoting
their lives to interpreting God's will?

They're articulating exactly how
they're doing it in a way that's

accessible to cold Barbe Rob,
to anybody who wants to see it.

So over time, we assume that they're
the experts, it's analogous to thinking

about any other field, why, for example,
and this is like a bad time in the world

to trust experts with the whole Dr.

Fauci stuff, right?

But let's assume, for example, before Dr.

Fauci before COVID, when we
still trusted experts, right?

So why is it, for example, you would
trust scientists or trust doctors?

Because you assume that
they're the experts.

Now, you wanna challenge their theory.

You wanna claim that instead
of taking antibiotics for strep

throat, you should, eat hummus?

Great.

Write an article in a scientific
journal showing how hummus can,

solve all bacterial infection.

If you're right, that'll
become the new drug of choice.

I think when it comes to Chazal,
I think we have to assume that,

again, they're the experts.

They're the ones who are interpreting
based on their own sense of expertise.

If we don't agree, we can certainly
challenge, but at the same time,

we have to do it with reverence.

At the same time I really think
we have to avoid historicism.

I know the Rab was really into this, and
again, I didn't really appreciate it when

I was younger, but now I see it more.

Because a reductionist argument that
always looks at motivation in terms of,

historical context, psychological bias,
then all of a sudden y-you can't ever

make any arguments, 'cause everything
you're saying is based on somebody

else's psychological reading of you.

I could turn the question on this
questioner and say, it could be that

what's motivating you is your bias
or your bad experience with Rabbis,

it's not a fair way to dialogue,
but take his question seriously.

So I would say the same thing here,
that we should take seriously Chazal.

We should-- If there are instances
where it's really clear that there's

a statement made which is, rooted in a
cultural bias, okay, that could happen.

But for the most part, the whole
interpretive structure assumes that

there are values that transcend
time and aren't just rooted in,

sort of things that could move and
shift with sort of cultural winds.

Rav Corey Gold: Excellent.

This last section, Rav Dovid, is
broadly about, we'll call it Ben

Yisrael Haamin, Jews, the world how we
relate to each other in this moment.

One listener asked a, in, in some ways a
personal question, but I think it's a, a

relevant question for many people: How do
I know when Aliyah is the wrong decision?

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah.

Okay, so obviously I think you're
right that there's a strong personal

dimension to the question here.

Obviously when a person's trying to
make significant life decisions like

making Aliyah, I think it's important
for them to be in contact with somebody

who knows them but I'll give some
sort of general guiding principles.

I think the first assumption should be
that, Aliyah should be your default.

I know there's a Machlokes in Rishonim
about whether or not, Aliyah is a mitzvah.

But I think that kind of
misses the point, right?

'Cause even the, Rishonim who would think
that Aliyah is only a mitzvah kiyumi,

not a mitzvah de'oraita or something
like that, end of day all agree that

the ratzon HaTorah, the will of God,
the will of the Torah, is for Jews

to be in the land of Israel, right?

You don't have to be a big lamdan.

All you have to do is, listen to
Parshat HaShavua every week, right?

So I think that if you were to ask
yourself what is the ultimate will of God

what does God want from us, I think God
wants Jews to be in the land of Israel.

So when it comes to thinking that question
through I think most people, all things

being equal, should assume that they
should be making Aliyah because it's a

mitzvah, because it's not only a mitzvah
which is localized, it's a mitzvah

which impacts all other mitzvot, right?

There are some mitzvot which
are what I call meta-mitzvot

they impact everything else.

So this is an example of it, right?

Observing mitzvot in the land of Israel
is qualitatively different than observing

mitzvot in outside the land of Israel.

So the idea is if you have
that opportunity to make

Aliyah so I think you should.

I think that if you imagine throughout
Jewish history, imagine for example

you're sitting next to Moshe Rabbeinu
and he told me you can make Aliyah

and you're choosing not to, right?

It's like I was talking to
some students who learned a

verse for yeshiva in Jerusalem.

I was giving them a hard time about
why they're not making Aliyah.

They were pill pulling with me
back and forth about Aliyah.

So I said to them like, "Look,
listen, like you don't have

to be a big lamp in here.

Just imagine if you're sitting there
at Shalshudis with Moshe Rabbeinu.

You tell him that you have the option
to make Aliyah or go back to Lakewood."

And I said again, y- you don't
have to be a Moshe fine tune to

understand what he would say, right?

So I think, David, just think about
it on a very elementary level, the

root of Hashem is for Jews to be in
Israel, and I think that all things

being equal, Jews should do it.

That being said, the Gemara does talk
about different times where it would

be practical for somebody to, be in
Israel, either for financial reasons

or for the purposes of Shidduchim or
the purposes of Talmud Torah, etc.

So I think that if that is a variable
for somebody, they have to figure it

out, like what exactly is at stake.

So for example, if someone said to me,
for example, "I can make Aliyah and get

a job which is not as good as my job in
the US, but it's still a very good job."

So there I would say, I think
again, all things being equal,

we should prioritize Aliyah.

If there are significant family
issues involved, then it obviously

requires more sensitivity.

But I think for the most part, when
thinking about this question, I think, I

have become an Aliyah maxim- maximalist.

That I think that being in Israel for
so many years made me appreciate the

fact that i- it's really if you're a
religious Jew and you're invested in

the story of the Jewish people, then
this is where the story is playing out.

This is where you have to be.

So if a person can't do it for technical
reasons, okay, can't, I get that.

At the same time, I would be very
resistant just to try to start reducing

it to a Halakhic conversation of
whether or not it's a mitzvah, right?

Because again, when you really think
things through, you realize that it's

so axiomatic, the tradition, both
rabbinic and Talmudic, that Jews should

be in the land of Israel that I'd have
a hard time, thinking about reasons

why a per- a person wouldn't do it.

I'm not judging anybody who doesn't.

I'm saying in intellectual abstract, I
would say that Aliyah should certainly

be your default, especially because
making Aliyah is easier now, right?

People have Nefesh B'Nefesh and social
media, and if you want to stay in

contact, it's cer-certainly doable.

So that's my basic sense
of thinking about Aliyah.

Obviously, there could be personal
circumstances that create complexities,

but I think as a default posture,
we should be Aliyah maximalist.

Rav Corey Gold: You mentioned how you've
experienced some personal transition

on this question over the years.

And the previous question was all
about rabbis and their biases.

I'm curious if you could explain how
you became a maximalist in this way

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah, so
again, my training and learning

was very much in the f- in like
a very formalistic space, right?

So I used to think about
things in very formal terms.

In fact, I remember one time I went
to a shiur when I first made aliyah.

I went to listen to a shiur at
Yeshivat Har HaMor, which is in

Israel, like the most hardcore
Haredal religious Zionist yeshiva.

And I went to hear a
shiur from this rabbi.

I was curious to learn a little bit
about the intellectual world in Israel.

So I went to hear a shiur rabbi, and
he was talking about the importance

of Eretz Yisrael, and he was going
on and on, quoting lots of sources.

And I remember I came up to him
afterwards, I said "This is all nice,

but Rav Moshe Feinstein says that it's a
mitzvah kiyumi, not a mitzvah de'oraita.

How do you deal with that?"

And he looked at me like I was an alien.

He looked at me again, that's
the truth of Rav Moshe Feinstein.

Again, it is not that by any means he's
belittling Rav Moshe Feinstein, but what

he's basically trying to say to me is take
a step out, zoom out for a second, right?

In other words, he's giving me all these
sources that talk about the centrality of

the land of Israel, how important it is
to be here, and my vision was so narrow

that I could only think about it in terms
of is it a mitzvah, is it not a mitzvah?

And I remember at the time I
thought this guy just doesn't

know what he's talking about.

That's how you think about things, right?

But as I spent more time here and
started learning different things and

expanding my intellectual horizon I
started to realize that he's right?

That there are important Halakhah
questions to discuss, but sometimes

Halakhah questions can, specifically
Halakhah framings that can in the

context of a Jew, make perfect sense,
in the context of taking a step

outward and thinking to yourself,
like, what is the return of Shem?

What does God want?

So I think it's obvious that this rabbi
was right that that God wants people

to be in Eretz Yisrael, and I think
that it's hard imagine a counterpoint.

It's hard for me to imagine a,
an argument to the contrary.

I'll just tell a good story - I went
to America one summer, so we were

spending time in LA, and we were on
Pico Boulevard, and we were eating

at one of the restaurants there.

And there's a bunch of
Yeshivish people walking by.

And one of my kids at the time
was very young and said to me,

"I don't understand these people.

They're so machmir on every possible
chumra, but when it comes to living

in Eretz Yisrael, they just take
the most liberal possible position."

Now, again, she was like seven or eight.

I don't know.

She was very young.

So it wasn't like she knew these people
individually, but the intuition was right,

which is that, it's one of these areas
where there's like a misguided conception

of what is ikar and what is tofel.

That I think that living in Israel
really is one of the, an important ikar.

Doesn't mean that other chumras
aren't important, but in terms of

thinking about how we navigate our
religious life, I think that Israel

has to really be a very high priority

Rav Corey Gold: Okay.

Now to explore the reality of
Israel, one listener asked, "Is

Sinas Chinam actually the problem
among the Jewish people right now?

How important is Achtus in reality,
especially when some segments of the

nation deserve legitimate criticism?

Where are the core sources for
that in our tradition, or is this

just cheesy, uncritical rhetoric?"

Rabbi David Silverstein: Right.

So it's an interesting question.

There certainly is a passage
in the Gemara which talks about

Sinat Chinam as being a source of
destruction of the Beit HaMikdash.

Certainly is an anchored concept
that Sinat Chinam is bad.

So obviously a question then of
what exactly is Sinat Chinam,

what does it mean, right?

But the way I would think about it is that
I think I spoke about this in one of the

episodes is that I think one of the unique
opportunities that modernity provided

for us is an awareness that people's
own religious lives are complicated

and they're oftentimes rooted in things
that are beyond their control, right?

For example, in the Halakha, I'm
allowed to really dislike somebody.

I can hate somebody if they're
actually considered to be a Rasha.

Right now, what's the definition of Rasha?

That's more complicated, but in theory,
there's a concept called Rasha, right?

So if you think about the
Talmudic framing, this is what

I talked about Rabbi Pfeffer.

In Talmudic framing, there's a sense
of like the Rasha versus the non-Rasha.

You're in, and you're out, right?

So I can look at somebody else and say,
"You don't follow the norms, you're out."

Okay?

But all of a sudden as things evolve
throughout Jewish history, so identity

becomes that much more complicated, right?

And there isn't really this
language of like in and out anymore.

So the post him have to try and figure
out like what language are we gonna use.

So Rabbi Pfeffer and I talked
about, do they use Tinoku Mishbah?

Do they use Omer Mutar?

They try different strategies
When push comes to shove, the

general orientation is that we're
like all in this together, right?

The only question then becomes how are
we gonna find Halakhic language in a

way that can solve Halakhic problems.

And then beyond that, Rab
Kook and Rav Soloveitchik have

an even broader conception.

They talk about Brit Avot, Brit
Sinai, and about Malchei K'ornim U'Goy

Kadosh as different ways to be more
inclusive to non-observant Jews who

are very much part of the Jewish story.

So what I would say, for example, that
I think that, the challenge of Sinat

Chinam, the challenge of Achdut now
it is really problematic because I

think that again it assumes a sort of
maximalist and fundamentalist conception

of identity, which goes back to a
pre-modern idea of in and out, right?

So if you're thinking in and out,
then all of a sudden you're, this

guy's out, and that guy's out, and
that guy's out, and I'm in, right?

And that's so much of the rhetoric
now is this idea of like he's

in, he's out, he's in, he's out.

Whereas I think if you have a more
holistic sense of how our identities

evolve and how we make choices and we
think about things we could have an

honest disagreement about certain things.

At the same time there's no reason
for us to hate each other, right?

'Cause when push comes to shove, like our
identities aren't just a function of like

a textbook that we read and then decided
this is how we wanna live our lives.

Our identities are rooted in so
many different concepts beyond

us, and it generates a certain
humility in terms of realizing that

I believe what I'm saying is right.

I don't know definitively.

I really do believe it
%100 or know it %100.

And that humility allows me to come into
un- other conversations with people, not

all of a sudden with this attitude of,
you're wrong, and by extension, I hate--

I think the Midrash says something like
that Sinat Chinam was extended later on

to also include like people whose Ha-
Halakhic approaches you didn't like,

that it really expanded the Chinam of
like anybody who wasn't like me was out.

So what I would say basically is that
it'd be good for the Jewish people,

right now to be a little more humble
internally and believe %100 they're doing

this right, each community internally.

Same time acknowledging, to the--
I mentioned at the beginning, a

little epistemologically humble,
that we don't know 100% sure.

And therefore, we can engage in
conversation with real passion.

At the same time, there's no reason to
reduce it to a language in and out, a

language of you're no longer my brother,
or you're a kofer, or you're an apikores.

Which again, just goes back to a motto,
which I don't think is really at all

relevant in the contemporary conversation.

So I don't think Sinat Chinam
or Achdut are arbitrary terms.

I really do think that they're,
we're all part of this.

We're a fraternity, we're a brotherhood.

Meshech Chochmah says we're like one
organic body, I do believe that's

real, and I think that the way to deal
with it is to lower the flames, lower

the rhetoric by acknowledging our own
limitations and coming to a conversation

away, which is more humble, more relaxed,
and acknowledge that even though I

think someone is fundamentally wrong, no
reason for me to consider him a rasha.

It's possible to have rasha,
but we assume most people are

not, covered by that category

Rav Corey Gold: Yehuda asks,
"The world looks on Israel more

unfavorably than ever, and it doesn't
look like that's turning around.

How should we relate to that?

And how much that factor into
who leads the country and

their rhetoric and policy?"

Rav Dovid, you can use this as an
opportunity to launch your campaign

if you'd like for prime minister, but,

Rabbi David Silverstein:
the purpose of this episode.

This was all a setup.

Yeah I-I'll try to avoid the
political angle for a second

and just talk more specifically
about the issue of antisemitism.

And this is something I think about a
lot, because if you look at Jewish sources

there are Jewish sources, but Halevi says
and others say this, where they imagine

antisemitism in the context of sort of
God's larger plan for the world, okay?

Now, this is interesting because,
traditional Jewish theologians have

always assumed that God is interacting
with the Jewish people through history.

Rav Kook expands upon this
in a much more dramatic way.

But even if you look before Rav Kook,
if you look, for example, at Rabbi

Chaim Wasserman, Sam Rebbe Rashash after
Rav Kook, but look at these thinkers.

There's a sense that God is
interacting with Jewish people through

different historical circumstance.

And the question becomes antisemitism
is constantly happening, so what

exactly is the message from God there?

So One thing the Beis Halevi says, I
think it's Beis Halevi, says something

like that the antisemitism is there
to remind Jews of their Judaism.

And this is a line where he says
basically that if you do Kiddush,

meaning if you observe the mitzvot,
then God won't send the Havdalah.

He won't send the antisemite to basically
separate you from the non-Jewish world.

Whereas if you don't do Kiddush, you
don't do the mitzvot, then God will

send you Havdalah, god will basically
send you the antisemitism to remind

you of who you are as Jews and how
you're fundamentally different.

So I think about that in the context of
what's going on in the world right now,

because you do see, paradoxically, on
the one hand, the antisemitism is more

rampant, which is obviously terrible.

On the other hand, you do see an
awakening of Jewish identity in

different spaces all across the world,
both in Israel and across the diaspora.

So the way I would think about it
basically is I think it's important

for Jews across the board and the
Jewish community to take this as an

opportunity to really fortify their own
Judaism and their own Jewish identity.

Obviously, we don't want it to come
through antisemitism, but I think

that antisemitism is a reminder
that Jews are different, we don't

wanna be reminded by Gentiles.

We wanna be reminded by the mitzvot.

At the same time, I do think it's
important to realize that Jewish

identity is escapable, and it's important
to take Jewish identity seriously.

And paradoxically, antisemitism
sometimes gives us the opportunity

to say to ourselves, «Wait a second.

Maybe we lost that sense of Jewish
distinctiveness, and we can reclaim

it, and we had to be reminded of
it," by virtue of the non-Jew.

It's like there was an article in
New York Times not that long ago.

The title was called
something like Reclaiming Jew.

And the claim was basically that Jews
call themselves Jewish or Jewish Americans

whereas antisemites call us Jews.

Why?

Because antisemites' whole point basically
is that you're not Jewish, right?

It's not secondary to who you are.

It's definitional to who you are.

You're a Jew.

So his whole point was basically that
what to the anti-Semite is perceived

to be like self-o-obvious, to the Jew
isn't always obvious, and his claim

was basically we should reclaim Jew.

We should reclaim the concept of Jew,
meaning that being Jewish is definitional

to who we are, not just like a sideshow
in the context of our larger identity.

And then there are larger questions, which
is really beyond my expertise, about,

how Israel should function politically in
terms of global geopolitical issues given

the reality of how Israel is perceived
in the UN versus how Israel's perceived

like in the broader world and larger
antisemitism specifically against Israel.

I'll save that for a subsequent podcast.

But I do think in general that there is
a paradoxical opportunity right now for

Jews to really reclaim their Judaism, and
unfortunately, we're being reminded of our

Jewish uniqueness through anti-Semites.

Hopefully this will be a wake-up call
that we should be reminded of our

Judaism by observing daily mitzvah.

Rav Corey Gold: Okay.

We're almost going to end in a , but
this is actually quite connected.

One listener asked, "Can you walk through
different perspectives on bishul akum

across Hashkafic lenses in Orthodoxy?"

What would you say, Rav Dovid?

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah.

So actually Bishul Akum I think
is an underly appreciated subject.

I actually think there's a lot of
profundity in the world of Bishul Akum,

so I really do appreciate this question.

So again, Bishul Akum basically is an
attempt by Chazal to create cultural

barriers between Jews and non-Jews,
specifically around food, right?

The idea basically is that, food is
something which breaks down barriers,

and Chazal are aware of the fact that
oftentimes, food is not necessarily

there just to be eaten, but it's there
as a means to bring people together.

There's a movie called
Good Will Hunting, right?

Where in Good Will Hunting there's one
scene where this woman goes over to the

lead character there, and she's, she
asks him out on a date for coffee, and

he says, "What about we go for caramels?

It's just as arbitrary," right?

And his point was basically exactly
what Chazal is saying in Masachat

Kehuba Zara, which is that it's not
about the coffee, it's about the coffee

as the medium to break down barriers.

So Chazal basically put up these
restrictions in order to be able

to preserve cultural distance.

Now, what's interesting about
it is Chazal did not say that

you can't eat with a non-Jew.

They could have said that.

They could have easily said it's
assur d'oraita to eat with a non-Jew.

They didn't say that.

They said you can eat with a non-Jew
as long as you have these cultural

barriers in place and you follow
the rules of Bishul Akum, which

basically means that a Jew has to be
involved in the cooking process, okay?

Now, I think all segments of Orthodoxy
observe Bishul Akum to the same degree.

I don't think there's leniencies
in the world of certain segments of

Orthodoxy with regard to Bishul Akum.

But I think in general the
question becomes what are the

underlying values of Bishul Akum?

How do we think about those
values in the context of the

world of Jew and non-Jew, right?

And I think that especially when you're
a cultural minority, like in the US or

other places in the world I actually do
think that the Sugya of Bishul Akum is

an important avenue for thinking about
how we interact with majority societies.

Because again, you could have imagined
a situation where Chazal would have,

basically prohibited entirely food with
non-Jews, even if it was kosher food.

But they didn't, right?

They said it's okay as long as these
cultural barriers are in place.

So I would say that model actually
is a healthy model for thinking

about the broader interaction.

That you're interacting, but
you have to preserve your

sense of cultural uniqueness.

As long as your cultural uniqueness is
preserved, so the interaction is focused

heavily on areas that are, religiously
neutral and don't lead to the possibility

of more religious assimilation.

So yeah I think Bishop Occam is
a case study for thinking about

how Jews should interact with
the larger Jewish world, right?

So it's not only about the application
of the rule, it's about seeing the

rule as a model for sort of broader
Jewish-non-Jewish interaction

Rav Corey Gold: wonderful, Rav David.

Thank you so much.

Any- anything else you wanna add?

I think that's all we have
for questions right now

Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah, so
there actually is one really good

question that came to me via email.

So I do address one question
that I think was a really sharp

insight that somebody had.

I'm not gonna read his name only because
I didn't get any specific permission.

But somebody who learns in a
Haredi yeshiva in Jerusalem reached

out to me specifically after
the episode with Rabbi Schaffer.

And he wanted to argue basically that
one of the big differences between

religious Zionism and Haredism when it
comes to Jewish peoplehood has to do

with the conception of covenant or Brit.

And his claim was basically that
the Haredi conception of Brit

is very much rooted in sort of
a standard Halakhic definitions.

Whereas he wanted to say that
religious Zionism incorporates Jewish

peoplehood into that conversation.

And as a result, he wanted to argue that
in the world of conversion standards,

religious Zionists are more likely
to convert people even if they're not

fully committed to Halakha, right?

As long as they're part of
the larger national story.

While Haredi post-Kimber not wanting
to consider that at all, right?

Because they don't consider
those expressions of identity

to be really part of the Brit.

Okay?

So first of all, I just wanna say that,
again, I mentioned before, one of the

great things about podcasting is you
never know who's gonna write to you, and

it's always fun to get emails from people
outside of my sort of cultural orbit.

Good to know that Torah
does transcend different

demographics in the Jewish world.

And I just wanna respond
to what he was saying.

I actually don't think
that's an accurate reading.

I think that both religious
Zionists and Haredim anchor their

conception of identity in Brit.

I think everybody agrees on that.

The only question is what are
the parameters of the Brit?

And I think that one of the things
that motivates oftentimes Haredi

orientations on this is a conception
of Brit, which is very particularistic.

So it focuses on mitzvot that
are very specific to Jews.

They always come up with
Shabbat, Kashrut, and Niddah.

Even though that threesome, I think
only comes together in the eighteenth

century in the context of Hilchos Gayrus.

I think that's something
that Rav Malamud pointed out.

But I understand why there's a focus on
those things, 'cause those are things that

really highlight Jewish uniqueness, right?

They're unique to Jews.

And I think that some religious
Zionist post-Kim have a conception of

Brit which is broader than just the
mitzvot that are very particularistic.

So for example, they'll consider
let's say- self-defense, right?

Or serving in the army, right?

Or ethical mitzvot as also being
expressions of the Brit, right?

And therefore, they're willing to think
about peoplehood and think about Jewish

identity in terms that aren't only
about Shabbos, kashrut, cara, mishpocha.

But rather they're about mitzvot that
we assume to be more connected to

natural morality or or nationalism.

At the same time they believe that
those things are part and parcel

to what it means to be a Jew.

And therefore, as long as the person
is doing it with the goal of either

he believes in God or he believes
in the national story of the Jewish

people that has consequences vis-a-vis
how we relate to that person.

Hilchos Ger is its own thing,
so I'm gonna avoid that for now.

But I would just say that I think
that's an important distinction,

what is the ghetto of Brit?

What is definition of Brit?

Is Brit only particularistic
mitzvot, or is Brit broader, right?

And the Brit is broader than your
conception of the Jew who only fulfills

part of the Brit is broader, right?

If you have, let's say, a Haredi
who's very particular about ritual

mitzvot but is lax on ethical
mitzvot, so you would say he fulfills

part of the Brit, but the reverse.

Let's say you have a secular Jew who
believes in Judaism, believes in God, but

he's only fulfilling the more ethically
inclined mitzvot and the more nationally

inclined mitzvot, but he's lax on ritual.

So I think religious Zionists would
say, "Okay, he's part of the Brit,

but he's just not fulfilling it all."

And I think that's where the
breakdown oftentimes lies.

Anyway, Corey, thank you so much

Rav Corey Gold: Rav
Dovid, that was fantastic.

If you have questions you'd like Rav
Dovid to consider in a future episode

, you can fill out the form linked in
the description, or you can email

them at [e-mail].

Rav Dovid will be back
in September, yeah?

Rabbi David Silverstein: Looking forward.

And If you have specific guests
you want us to have on the podcast,

feel free to send suggestions.

Rav Corey Gold: Fantastic.

As you always say, looking forward
to continuing the conversation…