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Are we turning our backs on 90% of Klal Yisrael? If Modern Orthodoxy has the perfect vocabulary to engage the contemporary world, why has it abandoned the field of outreach?
In this episode of The Curious Jew, Rabbi David Silverstein sits down with Rabbi Steven Gotlib to examine why the Modern Orthodox community so often struggles to prioritize active outreach (kiruv). Drawing on his own journey from a traditional Conservative upbringing in Fair Lawn through the high school worlds of NCSY and a secular path at Rutgers, Rabbi Gotlib shares a deeply personal perspective on transitioning into mainstream Orthodoxy.
They confront a critical shift in modern Jewish life: why Modern Orthodoxy has largely focused inward on fortifying its own enclaves while ceding active outreach to Yeshivish and Chabad frameworks. Pushing back against demographic triumphalism and indifference toward assimilation, they critique the lack of an internal drive within Centrist Orthodoxy to engage the broader Jewish world. It is an urgent, candid call to reclaim our sense of collective responsibility for the future of the entire Jewish people
About the Guest: Rabbi Steven Gotlib is a pulpit rabbi serving a diverse Jewish community in Philadelphia. A graduate of the Rabbi Isaac Elchanan Theological Seminary (RIETS) at Yeshiva University, he is a frequent contributor to The Lehrhaus, 18Forty, and writes regularly on his personal Substack.
AMA: In an upcoming episode, R' David will respond to listener questions! Submit them to be considered here: https://forms.gle/EHknAEyZUVFXARWJ7
AMA: In an upcoming episode, R' David will respond to listener questions! Submit them to be considered here: https://forms.gle/EHknAEyZUVFXARWJ7
Chapters
00:00:00 - Episode Intro & Rabbi Gotlib's Personal Journey
00:04:47 - Navigating the Conservative Movement & the Social Move to Orthodoxy
00:11:47 - The High-Pressure Ultimatum & Leaving Observance Behind
00:26:24 - Stumbling into Yeshivish Learning & The Intellectual Return
00:39:15 - Arriving at RIETS: Confronting Triumphalism and Demographics
00:47:14 - The Out-of-Town Enclave vs. Serving Diverse Communities
00:50:08 - The Missing Theological Motivation for Outreach in Modern Orthodoxy
00:55:07 - Activating Peer-to-Peer Campus Connections Beyond the Enclave
00:59:45 - How Engaging the Secular World Forces an Intellectual Expansion
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: thecuriousjew@orayta.org
Intro music by Mykola Odnoroh.
R' Steven Gotlib: Steve, I'll
buy you your plane tickets.
Just get on the plane and go, and
apologize to your parents when you land."
And it just felt like it was a
choice I had to make in that moment,
between my family and this amorphous
thing called Orthodox Judaism,
And if this is a binary, then I
can't do it - and I basically decided
then and there I chose my family.
Rabbi David Silverstein:
Judaism begins with questions.
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.
Hello, everyone, and welcome back to
another episode of the Curious Jew . This
is David Silverstein, and today I have
the honor of welcoming Rabbi Steven
Gotlib . Rabbi Steven, thank you so
much for coming on the Curious Jew
R' Steven Gotlib: It's a pleasure.
Thank you for having me
Rabbi David Silverstein: You're currently
situated in Philadelphia, right?
R' Steven Gotlib: Correct
Rabbi David Silverstein: Okay, great.
So you and I have been in
contact a few times via email.
We've spoken a few times on WhatsApp.
I don't wanna embarrass you too much,
but I really think you're one of the
most engaging and talented young rabbis
coming up on on the American scene.
So I really did wanna speak to you for a
while about a variety of different topics.
And the topic that I wanna talk
about today is, in many ways, an
outgrowth of the previous episode.
In the previous episode I talked to
Rabbi Yehoshua Pfeffer about Haredi
conceptions of Jewish peoplehood.
And I started to think a little bit about
how he conceptualizes Jewish peoplehood,
and I realized, I kinda wanna do a
parallel episode on something that relates
to modern Orthodoxy and Jewish peoplehood,
and more specifically, the question of
modern Orthodoxy and outreach, right?
How does modern Orthodox community
engage in the act of outreach to
larger Jews, both philosophically,
sociologically, theologically, et cetera.
And I thought you'd be a really good
person to speak about this with, not
only because you've written on the topic.
If you just Google Rabbi Steven Gottlieb
Kiruv, I think you get 10 articlesâ¦
but also because you became more
observant through the outreach channels.
So maybe you could just begin describing
a little bit where you come from, how
you got engaged in terms of the Orthodox
community, and just give a kind of a
broad reflection in terms of your own
journey into sort of mainstream Orthodoxy
R' Steven Gotlib: Sure.
Thank you so much for the
kind introduction, by the way.
I don't know that I deserve
it, but I appreciate it.
So I grew up in in a little town
called Fair Lawn, New Jersey, in
between Teaneck and Passaic in in
Bergen County, Northern New Jersey.
Very large Jewish population.
Rabbi David Silverstein: I will
interrupt you for a second.
You should know that Fair Lawn,
New Jersey just had big newsâ¦
the guy who rates all the pizzas,
the Barstool Pizza guy, he just
went to Zebby's Pizza in Fair
Lawn and gave it a high ranking.
So anyway, that puts Fair Lawn on the map
R' Steven Gotlib: good.
We were always on the those who know
the Jewish geography know that Fair Lawn
was always on the map for having the
best Chinese food in North Jersey, so
now it's getting the best pizza, too.
Rabbi David Silverstein: there you go
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, so I grew
up in Fair Lawn, and, Fair Lawn was
a very Jewish community, and I grew
up within what I would call the
traditional side of the conservative
movement within that context.
So my family and I went to shul
basically every single week.
Whatever we did after shul, we
did after shul, but Chas v'Shalom,
we didn't go to shul first.
I was very engaged in, I
was in Jewish preschool.
I was in Hebrew school through grade 12.
I was going to Camp Ramah
every single summer.
I was participating in
USY, things like that.
I knew how
Rabbi David Silverstein: which
camp Ramah did you go to?
R' Steven Gotlib: I went to Camp Ramah
Rabbi David Silverstein:
Ramah did you go to?
R' Steven Gotlib: I went
to Camp Ramah Nyack,
Rabbi David Silverstein: it.
Okay
R' Steven Gotlib: I spent my,
basically my entire childhood there.
I worked there as a staff
member in various capacities.
And so I was very deeply
engaged with Judaism.
I was, able to daven fluently
from the Amud if I needed to.
I was not quite able to pinch
hit laining in the way that I am
now, but I knew the ins and outs.
And, it was really a very
robust Jewish background, but we
were not observant of Halakha.
But the way that I joked with friends was
that I knew enough to know that I wasn't
that I wasn't keeping it, and there was
always this, passive sense of dissonance
about that, particularly because in the
environments that I was in, in Ramah,
for example, so Halakha was taken
seriously, at least on the official level.
We were davening every single day.
All the food was kosher.
When we had Shabbatons, we were expected
to not be on phones or technology.
And then I would, spend USY on Wheels
in high school going around the US,
and my friends and I would turn off our
phones and leave them in our hotel rooms.
And, I came back to the conservative
community in town, and that just was
not the lived experience that I had.
My friends who I knew from preschool
and still was hanging out with here
and there, who were, by the time
we were in high school, they were
going to schools like Frisch, TABC,
MTA but I was close with them.
So I knew that they were having those
kinds of experiences, and, it wasn't long-
Rabbi David Silverstein: can I ask you
a question about when you're in the
conservative movement at this time,
is the issue of egalitarianism still a
vibrant conversation, or is it assumed
that egalitarianism is the norm?
To give you some context, when I went to
Camp Ramah in Berkshires, I'm probably 20
years older than you, or 15 years older
than you, I don't know how old you are,
but I'm significantly older than you.
And when I was in Camp Ramah, they
used to have an - egalitarian minyan
and one non-egalitarian minyan.
Neither of the minyanim had a mechitza,
but it was very much a conversation.
And in my high school also Solomon
Schechter in New Jersey there was
basically a non-egalitarian option.
It was discouraged, but it was there.
And there was very much this
tension internally, in terms
of the egalitarian question.
So when you were growing up at this
time, is egalitarianism a given for
you, or are you struggling with the
question of egalitarianism while
you're in the conservative movement?
R' Steven Gotlib: So it's
actually very interesting.
If you asked anyone else who did not grow
up in Farallon, I think they would've
given you a very different answer.
So when I was growing up in Farallon,
there were two Conservative shuls.
There were three, one, two
of them merged together.
But there were two active Conservative
shuls when I was growing up, one of
which was completely non-egalitarian.
There was no mechitza, but women
weren't reading Torah, women
did not count in the minyan.
Maybe the bat mitzvah girl would get
mafteir and read the haftarah, but even
then it would be a kerfuffle in that shul.
And then my shul where I grew up had
an egalitarian minyan, but also a
very vibrant non-egalitarian minyan.
And that one was doing full kriah as
opposed to triennial Torah readings.
And it wa- it was really interesting
to me because the form of Conservative
Judaism that I grew up in took for
granted that egalitarianism was an option,
and maybe even the preferred option at
the particular shul that I grew up at.
But non-egalitarianism was not
seen as ideologically other.
It was part of the movement, and e- even
at Camp Ramah in Nyack at the time that
I was there, for the campers everything
was egalitarian 'cause we, it was a day
camp, we weren't above bar mitzvah anyway.
But for staff, and when I was
working there as a staff member,
there was a non-egalitarian
minyan for the staff members.
I did not have to wrestle with that
in a Conservative context because to
me, there was no moral question about
egalitarianism versus non-egalitarianism.
Mechitza became a question.
And my hechsher for that was
basically if the women are okay
with it, then I'm okay with it.
But egalitarianism itself for me was
not a moral issue because even in the
Conservative movement I grew up in,
it was a perfectly live, valid option.
And I think e- even to this day, I think
now there's only one Conservative shul
in Farallon, but it does have both an
egalitarian and non-egalitarian minyan.
It's a interesting Halakhic question
within that part of the movement, but
it was not a big moral question I was
wrestling with because I always knew even
if I keep identifying as Conservative,
that's not where the core question is.
The core question for me was more
about Shabbat observance, kashrut
Rabbi David Silverstein: Got it.
R' Steven Gotlib: How are people
actually living outside of shul?
Rabbi David Silverstein:
Okay, very interesting.
So you're basically saying that
there's this dissonance in terms of
your own experience between the lived
experience of conservative Jews in the
synagogue versus the more intensive
religious life that's being expressed
in Camp Ramah, on USY, et cetera.
Okay.
So now, for
R' Steven Gotlib: want to, I do want
to also just say, for for peers of mine
who did not grow up in in Fair Lawn
or Highland Park or other communities
where they did have that non-egalitarian
Conservative Judaism that was present in
their lives, they, they had much bigger
cheshbonot when they were becoming,
when they were becoming Orthodox because
then it was really, they felt like
they were giving up on something that
was inhe- morally inherent in their
style of Judaism to become Orthodox.
I, and actually other people who
grew up in Fair Lawn who had similar
stories, I have a friend who's, to
this day, is still non-observant,
but he grew up at the non-egalitarian
Conservative shul in Fair Lawn, and
when he got to Brandeis, he started
going to the Orthodox minyan on Shabbos
because it felt more natural to him.
And he remains not observant.
He was not observant his entire time
at Brandeis, but that was the style of
davening that he was familiar with from
the non-egalitarian Conservative shul.
He identified as
Conservative the entire time.
But if you didn't grow up in Fair
Lawn, Conservative people who might
be listening to this will have
no idea what I'm talking about
Rabbi David Silverstein:
Yeah, no, for sure.
That's actually my experience.
Also, just talking about my own sort of
evolution Jewishly is that oftentimes
people don't realize that there was
a time in the history of conservative
Judaism, this issue of egalitarianism
was very much a live debate, right?
And therefore, the move from
conservative Judaism to Orthodoxy, if
you're in the non-egalitarian space
within the conservative movement,
it wasn't, it was a move, but it
wasn't a colossal jump, right?
'Cause you were already
in non-egalitarian space.
Okay, interesting.
So basically, so now you're describing
you're in high school, and what
happens next in terms of your
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah,
so yes I'm in high school.
And, early on in high school I was,
I would say, more active in the USY
world because that was what my Ramah
upbringing, led me to be active in.
But at the same time, there
was a robust NCSY chapter.
There was a Jewish student union
club, which was closely affiliated
with NCSY that I was a part of, and
eventually became the co-president
of in Fair Lawn High School.
And so I was going to NCSY events
also, becoming friends with people
in the Orthodox world, both those
who I knew already, whether from
preschool or Ramah who were, going to
Orthodox schools, or people who I was
starting to meet through that world.
And I socially very quickly became I
would say socially Modern Orthodox.
I was going to the NCSY regionals.
I eventually was on the NCSY board
for both Fair Lawn and Teaneck.
I was very, engaged.
I would go to Teaneck for
Shabbos to be with friends.
Nowadays, Fair Lawn is, like,
where everyone my age and all
of their kids are growing up.
When I was growing up, there was
maybe 20 of us around both sides
of Fair Lawn who were my age.
So Teaneck was where I went for a lot
of Shabboses to have more more peers.
But yeah, I would say I became socially
Modern Orthodox through that context, and
for me it was really a very minimal jump.
I already wanted to be
keeping kosher at that level.
I was already starting to keep
Shabbat at that level more or less.
I wasn't really- My knowledge base
was a little bit lagging in certain
subjects, and I could not learn Gemara
by, by any stretch of the imagination.
But I knew enough to get by culturally.
I knew enough of the words.
Davening was basically identical.
There were a few berakot that
were changed in words, a few
tense changes here and there.
But otherwise, I went from basically
davening a complete service to
davening another complete service.
And it was a very natural jump.
Now, there was some turbulence due
to how the kiruv attitude in NCSY wa-
was handled, which I'm sure we can,
I'm sure we can get into, and that
really
Rabbi David Silverstein:
that's actually, interesting.
It's actually an interesting sort of point
to bring up because you're describing
basically you're in the high school
age range, and you're getting exposed
to Orthodoxy partially through NCSY.
At this point, most of your exposure to
Orthodoxy is through people affiliated
at least loosely with Modern Orthodoxy
in terms of your peer group, right?
And then NC- and NCSY is hit or miss.
In other words, like it can sort of--
the range is broad in terms of the
type of Orthodox type of Orthodox that
you'll be exposed to through NCSY.
And I do wanna come back to the question
of the Kiro challenge specifically.
I'm curious if you
decided at any point toâ¦
Did you think about doing a gap year?
Was that sort of on the agenda?
R' Steven Gotlib: So I did, and
that, that's actually very much a
part of this, a part of this story.
So I guess I'll jump to that
and we can see what direction
we want to go in with it.
Back where we left our hero, I was in high
school in NCSY, socially Modern Orthodox.
And New Jersey region of NCSY at
that time was largely kids who
went to Frisch, TABC, MTA, Ramaz.
And at least my friends within it
were I would say, pretty normative.
We had the same cultural interests
as, Modern Orthodox Jews who also
watched TV and read books and whatnot.
But they were keeping Shabbos,
they were keeping kosher.
I wasn't really hanging out with
people who weren't doing that.
And that was really my context.
It was a very kind of
normie Modern Orthodoxy.
And, it was great socially.
I didn't even f- I didn't feel the
need to change basically anything as
far as what I believed or how I felt.
It was all very consistent with
the values that I already had.
And, my plan, were it not, I would say
interrupted by other facets, was that I
was gonna graduate from Fair Lawn High
School, I was going to go to Orayta
actually, and then I was gonna go to
Rabbi David Silverstein: Oh, really?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah.
Yeah.
There, there's a parallel universe
in which I graduated Fair Lawn High,
spent my gap year at Orayta with my
friends who were also gonna be there,
went to YU, and became an accountant.
Rabbi David Silverstein: Wow.
Okay, yeah, very interesting
R' Steven Gotlib: And I
genuinely think that would've
been actually the path for me.
Had I gone to YU, I think I
probably would've just gone into
business and probably not even
thought about smicha, funny enough.
Rabbi David Silverstein: Interesting.
Okay, so then you decide not
to go to Orite, decide to
go to, to not do a gap year?
R' Steven Gotlib: But the, and
the reason for that was actually,
related to, I would say, the negative
Kiruv experience I had in NCSY.
So what e- what ended up happening,
to make a long story short,
wa- was that I was basicallyâ¦
It was hammered into me nonstop by,
the vast majority of my NCSY advisors.
N- not really my friends so much.
There were, there was some social peer
pressure to do a gap year, but I was
planning on doing a gap year anyway.
But the advisors were really
hammering in, "Steve, if you don't
go to Israel for the year, you're
never gonna be able to stay Frum.
You need that experience.
It's going to be an important
part of who you are.
It's necessary."
And at the time, there were
some health concerns with with
particular members of my family.
A- and I really felt very torn.
I felt if I go to Israel for the year
and, God forbid something happens, I'm
never gonna be able to forgive myself.
My family already didn't want me to
go to Israel for the year because they
knew, possibly correctly, that had I
gone to Israel for the year, I would've
fallen in love with living in Israel and
stayed in Israel and never come back.
I wouldn't say if that would've
definitely happened or not, but
it certainly could have happened.
I can see a reality in
which that had happened.
And it was already my becoming
Orthodox was already causing some
drama internally i- with my family.
'Cause it wasn't ideologically
so different from how I grew up.
But I was keeping kosher at a higher
standard, and I didn't really know
the difference between chumra and
Halakha at that ti- at that time,
and I was a know-it-all about it,
and I wasn't going to the same
synagogue anymore as my family.
And I was spending less Shabboses at home.
So there, there was already
drama brewing on that front,
so they didn't want me to go.
The, those health issues ended up coming
up, which ended up being a big challenge.
But there was such a heavy
insistence, "You have to go,
you have to go, you have to go."
And it felt like that was
the only goal in mind ofâ¦
I'm sure there were other
as well internally for them.
But it felt to me at the time like
these NCSY advisors were just pushing
it because, oh, it's their job to
push this, and they need to push it
no matter what I say back in response.
And it got to the point where one of
them, who I really trusted as a confidant
and a mentor at the time, they said,
and I think this is still a direct
quote, 'cause it just, it stays with me,
"Steve, I'll buy you your plane tickets.
Just get on the plane and go, and
apologize to your parents when you land."
And at that point, I
really just felt a crush.
Literally, I f- I felt a pain in my chest.
And it just felt like it was a choice I
had to make in that moment, spur of the
moment, between my family, who I love and
cherish, and my relationship with, this
amorphous thing called Orthodox Judaism,
And I basically decided then
and there I chose my family.
I was unprepared to say if
th- if this is a binary,
Then I can't do it, and if I'm not going
to Israel for a year and they don't
think I'm gonna be frum anyway because
of this, and this whole Orthodoxy thing
is just, doesn't really care about these
dynamics, I'm not gonna do that either.
So instead of going to Orayta
and then going to IU, I said,
"That's enough of both of those.
I'm gonna not do a gap year at all.
I'm gonna go straight to Rutgers," which
was, my, my other major option where
many of my friends were going, "and
I'll do the cultural Judaism thing."
So I was living in the Chabad house.
I was on the kosher meal plan.
I wasn't shomer Shabbat.
I basically, gave up on that.
I said if I, if this doesn't matter
anyway, I might as well still be in
the marching band and keep drumming."
But otherwise, I tried to be
as traditional as possible.
I was going to the Orthodox
minyan sometimes on Shabbos,
wasn't davening daily.
It was
basically I wasn't right back at square
one, but I was pretty darn close to,
like, where I had been before NCSY.
Rabbi David Silverstein: Okay.
Very interesting.
So you described basically a situation
where you experienced some type of
traumatic interaction basically with
a Tzvy advisor or the larger sort of
framing of the experience of kiruv.
I'm curious in terms of,
thinking specifically about
this sort of point in your life.
You're somebody, at least in your
writings are very philosophicallyâ¦
You're somebody who's very
philosophically curious.
Just out of curiosity, my own curiosity,
when you're moving into the Orthodox space
and out of the Orthodox space, right?
So I know a lot of people who are coming
from a more liberal space into Orthodoxy
struggle with some philosophical issues
that don't always come up for the sort of
average modern Orthodox high school kid.
For example, I mentioned egalitarianism
before, a specific issue of
divinity of the Bible, right?
When you were younger and you were
thinking carefully and critically about
Orthodoxy, and you're going through
all these different iterations, right?
So are you simultaneously, start
thinking about some of these
broader philosophical challenges?
You mentioned egalitarianism for
you was not an issue at the time.
Not a moral question because
you already had a framework to
think about non-egalitarianism.
But when you're going through this
space, 'cause you described a lot of
sort of social-cultural interactions you
had with modern Orthodox Jews, right?
But was there any sort
of philosophical pull?
Did you meet some very inspiring rabbis
or leaders, or do you read books that
really brought you closer in a meaningful
way to traditional Orthodoxy before
you had this moment in in college?
R' Steven Gotlib: For sure.
I we'll get to the moment in
college where that was really,
I think, the philosophical turn.
When I was growing up, I really can't
say that I did, but the reason I
can't say that I did actually stems
back to the way that I was brought
up in the conservative movement.
One of, one of my, not earliest, but
one of my most formative memories as
a, 10-year-old Hebrew school student
at the conservative shul where just
apropos to nothing, one of my teachers
at the time, two of my teachers at
the time were respectively the son and
daughter-in-law of a Yu Rosh Yeshiva
who were both Orthodox identifying,
lived in Passaic, and were tremendous
impacts on me just intellectually.
So I always had positive
Orthodox role models.
My uncle also became a baal teshuva
when he was around the same age that
I had been when I had and is, a little
bit more on the black hat side as well.
So I always had those kinds of dynamics.
But one of the earliest, most formative
memories in, in the Hebrew school is one
of the conservative teachers actually
was teaching, and we were talking about
the Torah, and I asked point-blank, "Do
we really think that God wrote this?"
It's just I wanted to know
because I was reading it.
We were reading it in English at the
time, but, it struck me as, I had
questions even then as a 10-year-old.
And the answer that they gave me in what
I now understand to be the framework
of Abraham Joshua Heschel, but at the
time I would not have been able to
identify it as that, was, "No, we don't
think he wrote it, but we think that
God inspired it, and that's important."
And that answer stuck with me
subconsciously from when I was 10
through my entire time in high school
and even through my early time in
college as, okay, God didn't write
the Torah, but God inspired it.
That means it's important.
That means we should follow it.
That means that, I don't have to
be worried about any of these,
I wasn't exposed to biblical
criticism at all in, in high school.
I got exposed to that in college.
But I had already known even with
my, that almost conservative Emunot
ve-Deot I, Conservative with a capital
C, I didn't have to worry about it.
It just stuck with me subconsciously
from a 10-year-old until
then, God inspired the Torah.
Okay, and, in conversation
with NCSY, it didn't come up.
The NCSY rabbis were interested in
kiruv, but not intellectual kiruv.
It was all social kiruv.
They wanted to make
sure we were having fun.
They wanted to make sure that we were,
socializing with other Jews, eating
kosher pizza whatever the case may be.
There were shiurim, and I was
always intellectually curious.
I was always asking questions, et
cetera, doing my own reading on the side.
But the philosophical questions at that
early stage were really just not factors.
Egalitarianism, as you said,
because I had a framework
already for non-egalitarianism,
but even divinity of the Torah.
I had that, rudimentary framework
of God inspired it, and that
was all I needed to know.
Rabbi David Silverstein: Fascinating
. Curious if you could just, again,
maybe you can intertwine some of the
biographical pieces here, 'cause I
think it's actually very much related.
When people think about the question of
outreach and think about the question of
Jewish peoplehood, specifically in the
context of modern Orthodoxy, centrist
Orthodoxy, et cetera I think oftentimes
there's a disconnect between people- how
people perceive the current iteration of
outreach versus the way outreach evolved
at least in the '60s, '70s, and '80s.
When you think about the great outreach
rabbis of that period, you think about
Rabbi Riskin Rabbi Saul Berman other
personalities who are very much at the
forefront of keeping Jews engaged and
trying to maintain Orthodox standards
oftentimes in non-Orthodox spaces, right?
And there's a sense that Rav Soloveitchik
is the coach, and he's sending all these
rabbis across the country to non-Orthodox
shuls to, to, to try his best to m-
you know, maintain Orthodoxy in a space
where sort of the conservative movement's
getting stronger and stronger, right?
And then all of a sudden, you fast-forward
to, 2026 and the model of the outreach
rabbi is certainly no longer, there are
exceptions obviously, but for the most
part the model of the outreach rabbi is
certainly not the modern Orthodox rabbi.
There are exceptions.
Obviously, you have Manheim
Hecht's experience in New York.
And there's other spaces as well.
And I think there's an offshoot of Manheim
Hecht's experience in Tel Aviv as well.
But for the most part, when you
think about sort of kiruv, when
you think about outreach, right?
So I think people oftentimes think
about ultra-Orthodoxy or some,
yeshivish iteration or some kind
of modern Haredi iteration, right?
So I'm curious in terms of your
own experience and also thinking
about how this evolved, right?
So what was your own experience like?
You talk about these sort of N-NCSY,
personalities who are very much involved
in a kind of fun-oriented outreach.
But later on at some point in your
life, between when you're a freshman
at , , Rutgers, and you're struggling,
to now, where you're a bearded
rabbi living in in Philadelphia.
So at some point, you had
to switch back, right?
So is the switch back through some sort
of personality who is associated with more
traditional sort of right-wing Orthodoxy?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah.
So I wouldn't say a personality
per se, but I think that approach
was what brought me back.
And, I should say from the outset, even
in NCSY, just the way New Jersey NCSY
worked there was a bit of a delineation
between JSU, the public school kind
of branch of it, and NCSY proper.
I made that jump because socially I
already knew people and was already going
to it, and, the advisory said I should
start going to regionals, whatever.
It was very rare at that time in
New Jersey NCSY for anyone at the
regionals to be a public school
student who was not yet fully Shomer
Shabbat or at least not yet nominally
modern Orthodox enough to to fit in.
I was very much an exception in
that space and I felt like one.
I was very cognizant of the
fact that there was no one else
that I could identify there who
was a public school student.
And, even then, I guess NCSY was in
reach very focused, and outreach,
there were these outposts of it in the
form of JSU and maybe Southern NCSY,
Atlanta, whatever had more of a mix.
But New Jersey NCSY as NCSY
was very day school heavy.
Rabbi David Silverstein: By the way,
R' Steven Gotlib: I was already
Rabbi David Silverstein: that,
that corrupt, that corrupts
what I was saying before, right?
Because in other words, even NCSY which
is supposed to be the model for modern
Orthodox, centrist Orthodox outreach is
oftentimes engaged in inreach, right?
And by the way, I actually think that the
example you're describing is actually very
instructive because I think oftentimes
you, people have a hard time moving
communally because of the social piece.
And I think that because of the strong
sort of Yeshiva League flavor of New
York Orthodoxy, so being able to move
into that space and having an immediate
sort of social circle then it allows
you to all of a sudden feel comfortable
and feel at home in that sort of like
larger Yeshiva League community, right?
That it's ultimately a sense that,
you're part of something socially
that's bigger than yourself.
But again, it doesn't have the
strong sort of outreach orientation
beyond just the social piece
R' Steven Gotlib: For sure.
And even at Rutgers where, you know, at
the Chabad or AE Pi or whatever it may
have been that I was doing Jewishly at
the time even there, even when I was no
longer observant in the strictest sense
of the word, I was still an in-towner.
And I was an in-towner who still knew
a bunch of people from NCSY who were
at Rutgers with me, and because of
that, I was still socially in, in
the modern Orthodox community in a
way that I would not have been had
I grown up basically anywhere else,
Rabbi David Silverstein: It's actually
an amazing point because there's a
woman who wrote a, I think it was a
master's thesis about the Orthodox
community at Brandeis, and she called
the thesis called Sweatpants Orthodoxy.
And the claim basically was that
the image of the sweatpants is
that the band expands and expands.
And she actually did an
interesting thought experiment.
She said "Who feels more comfortable
in the Brandeis Orthodox community?
A kid who is from Fair Lawn, did a
gap year, comes back, but is nominally
observant, or a woman who's in the Reform
Minyan, puts on tallis and tefillin
every day, goes to Minyan three times
a day, but never went to sort of Camp
Mosheva, Ramaz, and Orayta, right?"
And she was trying to make the argument,
basically, that, oftentimes these
communities are structured in a way
that if you're a social outsider,
it doesn't make a difference if
you're theologically on board, right?
You're an outsider, right?
And you have a situation where
you're automatically an insider
because you're an in-towner
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, I'm an in-towner
who grew up in Fair Lawn and went to
the camp in preschool with a bunch of
people who are, who went to Frisch.
So I'm, I was like an honorary
Frisch kid at Rutgers because I
already, I knew all the people.
I was dressing the way they were.
I was acting the way that they
were, 'cause, they weren't
necessarily so observant either.
Not to throw Frisch under the bus.
There, there are a lot
of schools ha- have that.
Anyway, so I'm at Rutgers in that kind of
mindset, and I hear I can make $500 going
to this Maimonides Fellowship thing, and
they had my name through, through JSU.
And they invited me to participate in it.
And I go, and it's ran by a
Lakewood kiruv organization.
I'm very interested.
I'm asking questions, and
within about three sessions they
realize this kid knows his stuff.
And so they asked me about my story
and it turns out, oh, okay, he's public
schooler on paper, but he grew up on the
frum side of the conservative movement.
He knows Hebrew.
He did NCSY in high school.
And so they basically said,
"Look, we think you're too
advanced for this fellowship.
We'll still give you your $500.
But instead of going to these weekly
classes with little intro to Judaism
stuff that you already know you seem
intellectually curious, how about we
pay for you to go to yeshiva programs?"
And so I did what they called the
Lakewood Fellowship, which at the
time was based at BMG in Lakewood.
Nowadays, it's at the Toralink Center.
They have their own facility.
But at the time it was in
the Beit Midrash, in Beit
Midrash Govoha in Lakewood.
I did a similar program through
them at Ner Yisroel in Baltimore
Rabbi David Silverstein: Wait,
how long are these programs?
R' Steven Gotlib: These
programs were a few weeks.
Rabbi David Silverstein:
And you go learn basically
R' Steven Gotlib: Lakewood Fellowship I
think wa- I think was maybe three, fourâ¦
Was maybe three weeks over a summer,
and then the one at Ner Yisroel was,
I think, two weeks over winter breaks
Rabbi David Silverstein: So
meaning you learned there
full-time for two, three weeks?
R' Steven Gotlib: I wouldn't say
full, I wouldn't say full-time,
but instead of, going and playing
paintball in the afternoon with
everyone else, I stayed in the Beit
Midrash and learned with the chavruta.
And it was a kiruv-oriented programs, we,
the, we had mekorot that were translated,
but we were in the Beit Midrash.
We had the field of the Beit Midrash.
There were, like, yeshiva guys all
around us in those Beit Midrash.
I actually ended up, there was
another guy who also chose to stay
in the afternoons and learn instead
of going out to the social programs.
We recognized each other at the
program 'cause of the 40 kids who
were there, we were both the ones
wearing tachrit on our tzitzit.
Rabbi David Silverstein: nice nice
R' Steven Gotlib: he, became my
chavruta in Refectory's Call at
YU whatever, six years later.
And to this day is one of my,
is one of my closest friends.
It's interesting that we ended up both
going in that experiencing yeshivish
and then going modern Orthodox, but
we're not there in my story yet.
Rabbi David Silverstein: is at the
ti- at the time you're at Rutgers and
you're becoming more engaged Jewishly
again through, is it Mor- Morah Judaism?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, that was Moore
Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah.
So now is there a JLIC
on campus at the time?
R' Steven Gotlib: There
is a JLC on campus.
At the time I was not super-duper close
with the JLC rabbi 'cause I wasn't really
showing up to minyan super frequently.
I was s- I wasn't going to daily minyan
yet, and I was only really going to
Shabbos minyan and maybe once a month
or so, just where I was at the time.
So he knew who I was, I knew who he was.
His main constituents were
the day school kids also.
He really, I don't think, saw me as
part of his main constituency until
I was going to daily minyan and I was
going to his house for Shabbos meals
very frequently, and I was leading
davening, and I was even starting to give
shiurim and wanting to be on the board.
I became an honorary, part of
the community through that.
And we became very close, and he was my
Rabbi David Silverstein: No, but
this this is actually ama-- this is
actually quite intriguing, right?
Because think about
what you're describing.
Adam Ferziger the professor from
Bar-Ilan he has an article about
the evolution of the Lakewood Kollel
phenomenon, which I guess more in a
certain sense is outgrowth of, right?
And basically, hi-his claim is that if you
think about it, like I mentioned before,
that modern Orthodoxy, like in the era of
Rabbi Riskin, Rabbi Berman, et cetera, so
they're very involved in outreach, right?
And the Lakewood sort of community is
very involved in inreach in preserving
the integrity of their community.
And all of a sudden, at some point in
Jewish history, there's a swap where
basically you start having these Lakewood
Kollels popping up all across the
country, and they're outreach Kollels.
And then you have JLIC which is the modern
Orthodox campus initiative, whose whole
goal is to basically engage you when
you're already an observant Jew, right?
In other words, you on campus at that
time, if you're looking to for more
modern Orthodox engagement you basically
have to go find the rabbi, right?
Whereas the whole sort of mo- the whole
sort of operation of, let's say or
Chabad, even though Chabad's different
is to go out and find students.
Meaning there is no Yu
parallel to what you describe.
There was no like, "Let's take Steve
Gottlieb and have him come to the
Yu-based measures for two weeks."
That model doesn't exist.
It only exists in the BMG
Lakewood Fellowship or the Ner
Yisroel Lakewood Fellowship
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, I
think that's very accurate.
I would make one addendum, which is that
if you are the product of an Orthodox
day school, and they know you're going
to be at that campus, the JLIC couples
will actively look for you because
you're a part of their constituency
they're, who they're there to really
be serving, and they will do outreach,
r- as in literally reach out to those
students who they know are a part of them.
Now, that, I can't really
comment on JLIC organizationally.
I know my wife went to University of
Massachusetts at Amherst, and JLIC
set up the eruv there, set up kosher
food there, set up daily minyan
there and there were almost no day
school graduates at UMass Amherst.
It was almost all baalei teshuva.
My wife actually was
a day school graduate.
She went to Central for high school
and ended up at UMass somehow.
But she was one of very few.
I think a year or two ago,
JLIC shuttered that campus.
I think the reason that they gave
was because there were not enough
graduates of Orthodox day schools
there to justify their presence, and
my understanding is that they now have
a conservative, I think they have a
Hadar-ordained rabbi who's there now.
And, the Shabbos minyan, I think
is egal some weeks, Orthodox some
weeks, depending on who's showing up.
I don't know the state of
the eruv there anymore.
It, I would never begrudge an organization
for making a decision that is financially
responsible for them but it seems chavale.
Rabbi David Silverstein: So at
this point, okay, so then all of
a sudden you're getting exposed,
you're in the Lakewood Fellowship,
in Ner Yisroel Fellowship, right?
And at this point, are you considering the
possibility of moving back into Orthodoxy,
albeit through a more Yeshivish iteration?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yes.
So what the Lakewood Fellowship and
I think the Jewish Experience Week
they called it, the JEW Fellowship
at Ner Yisroel tau- taught me
was I really love Talmud Torah.
I knew I loved learning.
I was already taking a lot of
philosophy classes and Jewish
studies classes academically.
So I knew I liked the
subject matter still.
My, my issues with Orthodoxy at
the time were because of the bad
experience that I had with NCSY
at the tail end of high school.
But intellectually, I still loved it.
And what those fellowships taught me
was I really like sitting in yeshiva,
hearing guys around me learning,
and studying this material, and I
want to be able to do that fluently.
The same way that I can daven
fluently when I want to, I also want
to be able to learn Torah fluently.
And so through that, and then spending
my summers at Ohr Somayach in Monsey,
easily commutable from Fair Lawn, so
I could still, spend some time with
my family, spend some time there.
So I spent my summers at Ohr Somayach
in Monsey independently learning and
getting my skills up, and I loved it.
And that experience at Ohr Somayach for
the, I think, three summers that I was
there, two of the summers I was there
exclusively, and then two other summers
I was there in partnership with a modern
Orthodox learnings that I'll get into.
But that taught me not only can
I connect to this intellectually,
but once the intellectual came, so
then the spirituality followed, and
learning through various mussar sefarim
and the like also got me to really
love the, experience of davening.
That got me davening and
wearing tefillin every day.
That got me going to minyan every day.
That got me going to, going
back to minyan every Shabbos.
But it was through initially a yeshivish
lens because they were the ones who were
exposing me to this kind of learning,
and that was just the opportunity I
Rabbi David Silverstein: was your
sense what was your sense just
going at the time what was your
sense of the theological motivation?
Obviously these guys in
Israel and in Lakewood and
Orthodox love learning, right?
So there's an e- another- there's
an element of listen, we just wanna
share the beauty of Talmud Torah
with as many Jews as possible, right?
Did you ever think at the time, or
even retroactively just reflecting
on it, did you think that there
was a theological pull that was
motivating these kiruv professionals?
Do you think there was a sense that
they were motivated by, I don't know,
a passage in the Chofetz Chaim who
talks about the importance of kiruv or,
for example, I don't know, a passage
in Mishnas Rabban or Rabban Cutler.
In other words, is there a sense that
they're driven by a core theology, or
is it more along the lines of listen,
we believe that the Torah is true, we
really feel passionate about Torah, and
we feel like at the end of the day, most
non-observant Jews or most nominally
observant Jews are nominally observant
not because they're active rebels, but
because they don't have much exposure.
How many, non-Orthodox Jews have spent
significant time studying Talmud, right?
So is it more along the lines of listen,
this is just a treasure and we wanna share
it with as many people as possible, or is
there a deeper sort of theological pull?
And I've always thought
about it in terms of Chabad.
Chabad, there's certainly a
deeper theological pull, right?
It's, obviously they do great
work, but they do believe that
there's this messianic process.
They believe that bringing people
closer is part of the messianic process.
Putting tefillin on people is part of it.
So I'm curious, just as someone who's
in it did you feel the theology?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, so it's
interesting you brought up Chabad,
because I mentioned I was living
in the Chabad house at Rutgers,
and Rutgers Chabad is actuallyâ¦
my understanding, to the extent I
understand anything about Chabad which
is it was a big lacuna in my Jewish
journey, funny enough, intellectually.
But my understanding is that
Rutgers Chabad is actually
particularly mashichist, even
compared to other Chabads on campus.
And for them, the theology was palpable.
You could feel it.
When they wanted to get you to sushi
and soul or whatever class they
were doing or whatever program, they
were doing that because they felt
this is their theological mandate,
and it was obvious to anyone who
Rabbi David Silverstein: you feel that?
How did you feel that?
They talked about it?
Like, how did they-
R' Steven Gotlib: I don't know.
I real- it's hard to put into words.
But it's really hard to put into words,
but it wa- it was just like there was a
feeling in the kishkas that they genu- and
the way that they spoke and the way that
they emphasized things, they genuinely
believed that, this is what Hakadosh
Baruch Hu, the Rebbe, insert influential
figure here, wants them to be doing, and
they had a theological drive to do it.
With the more yeshivish kiruv rabbis, I
d- I did not get the sense of "This is my
theological mission," but I did get the
sense of, "We believe unapologetically
that this is true, and we want you
to see the truth in it as well."
Rabbi David Silverstein: Interesting.
R' Steven Gotlib: which is similar,
but I think a little different
Rabbi David Silverstein: It is, I
think it's definitely different.
When you're engaging with Kir
professionals in these various
sort of both yeshiva spaces and
also in more collegiate spaces did
you get the sense that they were
trained to deal with questions
beyond classic Halakhic and Talmudic
types of things that could come up?
The reason why I'm asking is because in
the article you wrote, you actually had
an interesting footnote to an article
by Ad- another article by Adam Ferseger,
where he tried to compare the curricula
of basically different rabbinical schools.
And I read the article and it was very
interesting to me because he was talking
basically about how can you take somebody
who spends, four, five, six, seven years
of learning Bav Masechta, Bav M'kama,
Kesubot, Suvamous, et cetera, over and
over again, then all of a sudden turn
them into a Kir press- professional
dealing with Steve Gottlieb, who all
of a sudden has all these philosophical
questions, is into Kir beyond Gemara.
So was your-- And one of the things
he points out is that, certain places
offshoot this type of training to,
let's say, or other places, right?
But there are certain places, I
didn't even know the history of it,
it's actually quite fascinating, like
Chafetz Chaim which tries to have their
students actually engage in, work outside
sort of the main Jewish communities.
Was your sense that these outreach
professionals were trained and had a
good sense of like how to deal with
questions beyond just, explaining Gemaras?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah.
So at the time I wouldn't have
known the differences in, like,
how different rabbis are trained.
What I knew was that whenever I had any,
what in retrospect was a very common
baal teshuva question, what do we think
about, about free will versus determinism,
which was something I addressed in
within a philosophy class, for example
I knew that the Kiruv rabbis on campus
had several well-rehearsed answers that
they could pull out of their pockets.
And, for me, who was more
philosophically-minded, I
got the Rav Dessler answer.
For someone else, they got the
Rambam answer, and someone else
got the, what- whatever different
answers that people have.
But they knew these are different
paradigms that we have, and they knew how
to frame it for curious college students.
I wasn't really asking phil-
deep philosophical questions
to, to my JLIC rabbi.
I was more going in for Halakhic psak.
But the Kiruv
rabbis definitely came across as being,
if not trained, at least well-rehearsed
in how do we address these questions.
They did not find the
questions surprising, and
they knew how to answer them
Rabbi David Silverstein: Very interesting.
Okay.
So then all of a sudden you're right
now currently, in terms of your own
journey, you're very much part of a JLIC
community and also the sort of larger
Chabad and also the Moer community.
So at some point you decide to go
for Smicha back to YU, the sort of
flagship of modern centrist Orthodoxy.
And you actually wrote a
really interesting piece.
You actuallyâ¦
Sorry, a very interesting sentence in
the article you wrote, which Becholal
was an interesting piece, about, about
modern Orthodoxy and Kiruv, where you
describe a situation where you're in
YU and either one of the rabbis or
roshei yeshivas suggests that in several
years, the overwhelming majority of
Jews in America will be Orthodox, right?
And you talked about how, for you
this is very disheartening to hear.
'Cause it's y- you don't wanna
be triumphalist about that.
It's not that all of a sudden everyone's
becoming Orthodox, it's just that
assimilation is rampant in non-Orthodox
communities and therefore, by default
Orthodoxy will become the norm, right?
Now, you had an interesting
reaction, which I wanted to know
if you could describe for a minute.
Before you get to that, one of the things
I've noticed in my job as an educator
is I've found that modern Orthodox
students for the most part really are
totally ignorant of Jewish demographics.
If you were to ask them, for
example, like, how many Jews
in America are Orthodox, they
would probably say 50%, right?
In other words, oftentimes they're
living in communities which
are overwhelmingly Orthodox.
That's their social and cultural reference
point, and when you ask them about the
larger Jewish community, they really don't
understand what's at stake in terms of
questions and challenges of assimilation.
So I can imagine, somebody in thatâ¦
Again, I was in the same
space when I was in YU.
I can imagine you being in that
classroom Friday morning in the YUSR
program, and I imagine you hearing
that very differently than the kid
who grew up in the modern Orthodox
community, 'cause he may not be sensitive
to what exactly that means, right?
So as you're hearing this
what are you experiencing?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, no, I,
so I got back to YU for Smicha.
And I should say the reason that I ended
up back at YU for Smicha is because one
day during, literally during davening, I
was always a fast davener, I finished my
Tehillim and Esray, f- relatively quickly,
and I pull off Torah Umadda by Rabbi Lamb
from the shelf, and I read it during Keter
Sheshats and Krias HaTorah, and Musaf,
and Kiddush, and, I keep reading it.
Because at the time my struggle was I
want to take Torah seriously, but I can't
give up on my secular education, which
I find passion in, and my connection
with the modern world, and Rabbi
Lamb's book solved that problem for me.
And, then I started learning in modern
Orthodox programs, Rabbi Klapper's
Kollel, et cetera, and eventually
went to YU for Smicha because of that.
If I never picked up Torah Umadda
on the shelf, and because of
Torah Umadda, if I never read Rav
Lichtenstein and Rav Soloveitchik,
I would not have ended up at YU.
I was intellectually bought and
sold on modern Orthodoxy from
that moment on and remain so.
And so I ended up at YU for
Smicha, and very optimistic.
This is the place where these
great thinkers were if n- if not
formed, at least were greatly
intell- greatly influential.
I'm part of this tradition now.
And I hear that, it was literally
the first day, I believe, of Smicha.
And I hear that being told to us, and,
I think my gut reaction was the words
of Rav Noach Weinberg, that, which I
didn't at the time identify with Rav
Noach, but later found in his writings,
that if we really let this happen and
are c- and are okay with it, that is a
Chilul Hashem of tremendous proportions.
That we are just turning our back
on at least 90% of Klal Yisrael.
And you're right, maybe my
classmates didn't see it that way.
Maybe they saw it as more like 50%, 40%.
I don't know what their, in their
mind demographics look like.
But having grown up the way that I did,
I knew we are a distinct minority, and
if we want to, if we want to prioritize
porcupining ourselves, that is coming
at the dre- at the detriment of the
vast majority of Jews otherwise.
And I did not want to let that happen,
and I basically decided then, okay,
no Young Israel of Teaneck for me.
I want to be, serving more diverse
Jewish constituencies with a
decidedly modern Orthodox flavor
Rabbi David Silverstein: And given your
own sort of, lear- yeshiva training
and also your professional background
what's your basic sense of the map of
the modern Orthodox kiruv professional?
In other words you mentioned that you
are currently a rabbi in a community
in Philadelphia, which is a much
more diverse population than say, for
example, standard, a shul in a let's
say, in Teaneck type of type of area.
Was your sense, A, while you're
in NYU that this was perceived
to be, like, one path among many?
Or were you the outlier?
And if you were the outlier what do
you think drives the sense that modern
Orthodox rabbis for the most part, focus
on in-reach and not on outreach, right?
'Cause again I think there are different
ways to think about that question.
There could be economic issues, right?
There could be sociological issues,
and there could be theological issues.
I'll just share with one
thing I was thinking about in
preparing for this podcast.
If you think about the parallel in Israel
and the outreach phenomenon in Israel.
So it's actually quite fascinating because
obviously you have Chabad, and obviously
you have, Haredi outreach in Israel as
well, and you have the Haredalim, which
are tough to conceptualize who are they
relative to modern Orthodox American Jews?
But they dress more colorfully than
the average yeshivish guy, right?
But they're also pretty
involved in kiruv, right?
If you look at Tel Aviv or Makon, you do
have these Haredalim actively involved.
And then you have this whole
phenomenon of Tzohar kiruv which is
the closest thing you can get to in
Israel modern Orthodox kiruv, right?
And it's a different type of kiruv.
The whole flavor is different, right?
But there is a sense that Tzohar, as a
movement in Israel, is trying to engage
secular Jews beyond the Orthodox space.
The most obvious example is if you
wanted to find a minyan on Rosh
Hashanah, Yom Kippur that was more
explanatory and more user-friendly to a
non-observant Jew, Tzohar provides lots
and lots of options across the country.
I actually think that's one of the
reasons why it works for Tzohar, because
Tzohar's sort of alt- intellectual
godfather is Rav Kook, right?
And Rav Kook is just a more inspirational
figure than Rav Soloveitchik.
Even though he's a complex thinker,
he's an inspirational thinker.
So he inspires people to
have a sense of Klal Yisrael.
Rav Soloveitchik doesn't inspire the
same way, and it's and it's like absent
that inspiration, it's hard to anchor
it, and the more Yeshivish people are
more dogmatic, so they have-- it's easier
for them to find inspiration, right?
But, people who appreciate nuance, at
the same time there has to be some sort
of like philosophical sort of motivator
that gets you to think about these things.
So I'm curious w- if you're gonna say
that you are more of an outlier, both
in terms of your smicha class and
more broadly within American modern
Orthodox, like, why isn't there the
Tzohar parallel or the Haredali parallel?
Hared- the Haredalim are still
within the religious Zionist camp.
Like, why isn't there that same
parallel in American communities?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, so
it's a really good question.
I was certainly an outlier in RIETS.
That being said, there were two other
guys in my class I can think of, also
both Baalei Teshuva one of whom who I
mentioned earlier who became my Chavrusa
and Moshektorskol, who I knew from
the Lakewood Fellowship originally.
The other one being a friend
of ours who was, at Chappells
before coming to YU for Smicha.
And we were like the Three
Musketeers who all went into
explicitly Kiruv after Smicha.
In my case, I was learning in
YU's Kollel in Toronto while
working at Aish HaTorah Shul in,
in Toronto which was an incredible
experience that taught me so much.
And to their credit, they knew I was
a YU guy going into that space, and
they knew that was the Hashkafa that
I represented, and they were all in
on that being a viable option within
their shul because they knew there
were gonna be people who were turned on
to it that would not have been turned
on to the more classic Aish approach.
But so it was definitely an outlier.
That said, RIETS did invite Rabbi
Wildes to give a series of classes on
the importance of outreach and how to
answer some of these basic questions.
And Rabbi Wildes, to his credit,
really tried very hard to explain why
this is something that's so important
for people to want to go into and why
you should consider going on whatever
evening nights to MJE to learn with
people BeChavrusa in their Beis Midrash.
He really tremendously gave a huge
effort to try to get people to, to
do that, and some people might have.
But I know when push came to shove,
there were the three of us, maybe
one more, who went into, active
outreach positions , post-Smicha.
It definitely did not feel like it
was an official option on the table.
There was no Kiruv track.
There was no specific
classes to get those skills.
We had to pick it up as we were going
through, vari- various combinations.
And
Rabbi David Silverstein: I would say
that when I was in YU the closest thing
we had to that sort of, that model,
again, we also had Rabbi Wildes speak
to us on Friday when I was there.
But you did have rabbis who were going to
out-of-town communities where they were
functioning as rabbis for a much larger
group of people than just the immediate
sort of Orthodox community that they were
serving day-to-day in the minyan, right?
So people who went, the further you left
the big cities the more possibility you
weren't necessarily a formal cure of
rabbi, but it wasn't the same thing as
being the rabbi of a big shul in Teaneck
R' Steven Gotlib: Absolutely.
Absolutely.
And I would say my current
position is very much that.
My shul would never identify as a kiruv
shul though I think in Jack Wertheimer's
book we are actually classified as a
kiruv shul for his research purposes.
But, my shul wouldn't identify
as a kiru- as a kiruv shul.
But, my population is there
are couples from YU and Stern
who are here for med school.
There are baal teshuva.
There are normal modern Orthodox people,
and there are people who, for lack
of a better term, are conservadox.
They can easily switch off between our
shul and the con- conservative shul, but
for various reasons, maybe having to do
with their stance on Zionism, maybe having
to do with their overall traditionalism
caucus with us, so to speak.
And, that is exactly the kind of shul that
I want to be in, and I would not be able
to imagine myself in a more, normative,
in-town, homogenous kind of community.
My sense was that Reitz tried
very hard to get people to
consider out-of-town pulpits.
But the out-of-town pulpits that were
the most popular for people to want were
like the in-- the in-town enclaves out of
Rabbi David Silverstein: Exactly.
R' Steven Gotlib: Lower Merion
Synagogue in Philadelphia, for
example would have been a much hotter
destination than my shul in Center
City because it feels more in town
Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah, the
same way, for example, like the
community kollel phenomenon, right?
Like you mentioned, you
were in Toronto, right?
So being a community kollel in Toronto
or like Los Angeles or Chicago is
a different experience than being a
community kollel in Phoenix, right?
I met somebody at dinner a
few weeks ago on Shabbos.
He's a Yeshivish guy who
was learning in Israel.
I said, "Where are you from?"
He said, "I'm from the
Mesivta in Phoenix."
I said, "There's a Mesivta in Phoenix?"
He said, "Yeah, it started
because basically of the
community kollel there," right?
But again, it's a different experience.
In other words, it's the same idea
that, these community why you kollel
are basically servicing the Orthodox,
as opposed to these sort of outreach
kollel that are expanding more broadly.
And what would you say about,
you're somebody who's ve-very
philosophically curious.
What would you say is the-- Is
there a theological limitation here?
Meaning, is there a drive that's
lacking theologically in terms of
the average, either reads Moshiach
or modern Orthodox Jew more broadly?
Rav Soloveitchik, there is an article by
Jerel Blitstein about Rav Soloveitchik's
conception of Jewish peoplehood, right?
So it's not like there wasn't a language
of peoplehood in Rav Soloveitchik's
writings, but it's not the same.
In other words it's not exactly
the same as the model you hear
about in more Yeshivish spaces.
I'm curious do you think there's
a theological impetus here?
R' Steven Gotlib: I think that
there, I think that there is.
Now I want to caveat, I wanna add a caveat
there that I actually do not think that
modern orthodoxy is without a consistent
theology that can be applied to kiruv.
I think, it- when I conceptualize
modern orthodoxy, I think about how
in theory we believe, and there,
there are nuances and, what are the
parameters of everything, et cetera.
We believe in broadly the same Ikarim
Emunah as our Yeshivish and Hasidic
counterparts, but we also believe in
Torah Umada, which means that in theory
you can be a modern Orthodox kiruv
professional with the same commitments
to truth as our Yeshivish friends, but,
we're wearing more natural clothing,
we're speaking more, more down-to-earth.
We have a, serious secular
educations behind us.
We can talk a language that they can't.
And that actually adds insult to
injury to me when I see this disconnect
in the actual kiruv landscape.
Because to my mind, there is no excuse
for why there aren't more of us, but then
you see the numbers and it doesn't add up.
And I think the reason that it doesn't add
up is not because we lack that theology
and Hashkafa built in, but because
for one reason or another, it doesn't
end up communicated in the same way.
And because it's not communicated in the
same way to us, both in the, Orthodox
school system, which again, I personally
never experienced, but, what I'm seeing
from people coming out of it, and in
Semikhah, which I did experience, we're
just not able to translate that into
actually going out into the world.
And And then also coupling that with
the fact that these philosophical
questions we aren't so equipped with so
we're just not going into those spaces.
But I think in an ideal, we have that
theology, and we have that Hashkafa
that would make us ideal for it,
but, a- as Rabbi Soloveitchik would
say, the world that we are in does
not currently map onto that ideal
Rabbi David Silverstein: Although again,
if I could push back on that for a second.
What you're describing basically is a
theoretical philosophical framing that
talks about the value of modernity, right?
So in that sense, you're right.
In other words, you could talk to somebody
who is a non-observant Jew and you
share a lot of linguistic overlapping
in terms of how you conceptualize the
world and your sort of interaction,
both in terms of your professional
life, your academic life, et cetera.
But that's not the same thing as
having a theology to understand
why it's important to help bringing
secular Jews or non-observant
Jews closer to Judaism, right?
That's not exactly the
same theological framing.
Meaning, even if I were to accept
your idea that, listen, if you read
Blitstein, you read Rabbi Lan, read all
the great modern Orthodox theologians,
you have a sense that there is a unique
philosophy that should be more engaging
to the non-observant Jew than, let's
say, more isolationist orthodoxy.
When push comes to shove, isolationist
orthodoxy or Chareidi orthodoxy or
Yeshivas orthodoxy, whatever it is
there are theological sort of tenets
that run through the blood of the
practitioner to then be like, "Okay,
I understand why it is now I should be
doing X," namely engaging in outreach.
You mentioned before Chabad.
Chabad is really overt.
But even when it comes to the Yeshivas
community, there i- there is a sense
that, they understand what it is.
Now again, I'm not saying I agree with
their explanations, but I think that
when it comes to-- they have something.
In other words, what I'm saying is that
when it comes to the Centrist Orthodox
community I still feel like, if you read
Gerald Blitstein's article, again, it's
a rigorous article intellectually, right?
And it explains Rav Soloveitchik's
conception of secular
Zionism, et cetera, et cetera.
But it doesn't motivate, it doesn't
explain why, somebody living in
Teaneck should, be excited about the
possibility of moving to, Indiana in
order to engage other Jews, right?
And I'm saying that I think
is what's really lacking,
R' Steven Gotlib: Oh, abso- absolutely.
I agree 100%, and I think that was
in some ways what I was trying to get
across, though you did it much more
eloquently than I did, that I think
we have the building blocks, both
philosophically and theologically.
We're not getting that motivation.
And to be honest I don't know whereâ¦
I don't know why we don't.
I don't know where thatâ¦
I don't know why we're not
getting that motivation.
I it troubles me genuinely
Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah,
when I was at YU, I remember
Rabbi Lamb gave an amazing shiur.
He gave a shiur.
He didn't give many shiurim in the
basement just when I was there, but he
had one shiur, and it was one of those
shiurim where he basically split the
first 15 minutes was Halakha, or the
first half an hour was Halakha, and
the second half an hour was Machshava.
It was a sort of classic Rascal Beach
model, where the first half is Halakha
and the second half is Machshava.
And he talked about the Sugya
of Makalkah, and he talked about
Makalkah amanat letaken, right?
And then he used that as
a philosophical model.
We're thinking about sometimes taking
a personal hit religiously It's not
something that you want , but you do
it because you recognize deep down
that the larger sort of tikkun is
something that's really important here.
Remember at the time I was thinking to
myself wow, that was really inspiring.
That was great.
I wanted to hear more of that, right?
Now there was a sense that
there was an inspirational
thrust that was motivating it.
And maybe we can just end by talking
about one other aspect of this, which is
the question of peer-to-peer outreach.
Now picking up on your model of modern
Orthodoxy being specifically situated to
engage in outreach, I've always wondered,
and we try to do this a lot in Orayta,
I've always wondered why modern Orthodox
kids aren't more inspired to engage
non-Orthodox students on college campuses.
There, there's a legendary figure,
Rabbi Hart Levine who was like
the initiator of this model.
And again, as he said when I spoke
to him many times, it wasn't really
a big chiddush, it was just caring
about other Jews and welcoming them
into the Hillel, et cetera, et cetera.
But you have thousands of Orthodox
Jews who go to college campuses
beyond YU every year, right?
And it's amazing to me that the
community hasn't really anchored those
resources, hasn't really activated those
resources to try their best, not to do
active kiruv and convert people, but
just engage them in a meaningful way.
I'm curious if your own experience,
or you're much younger than me, did
you, do you get a sense that there is
an attempt or at least an awareness
that maybe we should try a little bit
of this sort of peer-to-peer model?
Is that something that's even on the
radar screen, or is it still very much
top-down, rabbi coming in, giving a class?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, so I, I don't
know to what degree it's, on the
radar or not of these organizations.
I'm an organizational outsider
when it comes to, the current
work that I'm engaging in.
I will say that both in my own experience
and what I'm seeing trends in others,
the most common thing that is bringing
people to, my shul in Philadelphia, who
are not necessarily themselves either
identifying as modern Orthodox or, fully
observant of Halakha, is their friends.
When I was at Rutgers and trying to decide
between hashkafic approaches, the biggest
draw in my kishkas to Modern Orthodoxy,
in addition to my love of secular
studies, though in theory you could do
Torah Umdira carrots and be a shiva and
also have secular studies assuming you
understand R- Rov refers to that way.
But for me, the biggest emotional draw was
there were so many people in the community
at Rutgers who I could look up to who were
wearing T-shirts and jeans, but learning
Torah at a high level, and, normal
people who were just like my friends, but
really lived that Torah Umada approach.
And that- those are the people who are h-
bringing their friends to Shabbat services
at my shul, or asking, "Hey, can you can
you have an extra seat at your table for
a friend of mine who wants to join us?"
And th- and things like that.
I think it's low-hanging fruit.
I think there are some communities
that are more conducive to those
kinds of relationships than others.
I think some of it is a comfort thing.
When I started going to morning
minyan more often at Rutgers, I
made more friends in that community.
I also had friends going in,
so I was a little bit of a,
of an outlier in that regard.
But, sometimes people have to go
through the door first, and then those
people will activate, so to speak
and help them bring them in more.
But, in cases where, in Philadelphia,
I have, med school students or
residents who are meeting non-observant
friends and just becoming friends
with them naturally through that.
I think part of the issue is that
so many of the campuses that modern
Orthodox kids are going to have those
kind of in-town enclaves within them,
in the same sense that we ha- that
we have those enclaves out of town.
So also, you can spend your entire
four years as an Orthodox student at
Rutgers or Columbia or Maryland and only
interact with other modern Orthodox Jews.
Whereas at UMass, where my wife
met, where my wife went, or, smaller
schools that do not have that same
infrastructure, you're forced to make
friends just by nature of that being
the kind of community, with people who
are different from how you grew up.
And, lo and behold, that's
what happened at UMass.
Eventually, you'll have a daily
minyan where most of those people
did not go to day school, but
the few who instigated it did.
And I think that's really
interesting and really, hopeful.
Rabbi David Silverstein: Yeah.
Although again I think again, if we
try and isolate the challenge and some
suggestions moving forward, I think
what you're picking up on is a sense
that naturally modern Orthodox Jews
are more inclined to go to colleges
that have more Orthodox infrastructure.
That's definitely true.
And certainly when you have that
infrastructure, you can stay almost
exclusively in that community.
But if there was a language that people
were being taught from a young age about
the need to think beyond yourself, that
even if you go to Maryland or Rutgers
or Columbia then all of a sudden you
would have a sense that part of my
responsibility here, pardon the, the
Chabad terminology or pardon my shlichus
is that while I'm in school, I have a
responsibility to engage other Jews.
And I think this sort of if, there's
anything that I think this was a great
conversation, and I think one of the
things that I think kept coming up is
that, absent that sort of motivating
clause absent that sense of we have
a responsibility to do this, right?
It's hard for people to
be inspired naturally.
If you think about why is it, for
example, at the YU mosmuch, myself
included, when you're in YU, is so
inspired to teach Torah, 'cause YU is
an amazing place to learn Torah, right?
And when you get into learning, you love
Torah, you love YU, you love the yeshivot.
So all of a sudden you wanna convey
this material to other people.
And who are the people who are open to
hearing these things most of the time?
Other modern Orthodox Jews, right?
But there isn't a training from a young
age that part of your responsibility
is really to engage as many Jews
as possible, even if that means
sometimes that your Gemara shiur
isn't gonna be as high of a level.
Although I will just end by
sharing an interesting insight.
Rabbi Netanel Weiderblitt, I
don't know if he told this to
me or if I heard it on shiur.
So he's written like three massive
volumes on Jewish thought, like massive,
like 800-page volumes on Jewish thought.
So I think he said that he,
the w- the way he got intoâ¦
the way he got into Jewish thought was
he was trained in classical yeshivas.
He went to Greater Washington,
and I think the Mir or, I don't
know, some, but classical yeshivas
in YU, and he was involved almost
exclusively in Gemara Halakha.
Then all of a sudden he went to some
YU program in like Vancouver, and he,
they asked him like, what do you want?"
He asked them, "What do you wanna learn?"
They didn't say, "I wanna learn whether
steak's steak or it's midian rove," right?
They said, "I wanna learn
about the afterlife."
So he's "Okay, what do I
know about the afterlife?
I have to research it."
And all of a sudden he started researching
these things, and next thing you knew
he was very much in these sugyas, and
it was exactly being in that space
that inspired him as well, right?
It inspired him to expand
his intellectual horizons.
And I think that, one of the things
people realize when they engage Jews
beyond their orbit is that they can
really intellectually challenge you,
'cause they're not often willing to
accept the assumptions that oftentimes
Orthodox Jews assume as part of
their, as part of their discourse.
Anyways, so this was an
amazing conversation.
If people wanna read more of your writing,
I know you have a very exciting Substack.
R' Steven Gotlib: Yeah, people
can subscribe to my Substack.
I write very frequently
for The Lair House.
I'm around.
Rabbi David Silverstein: And you've also
written a bunch of articles on different
philosophical topics for 18Forty, right?
R' Steven Gotlib: Yes, indeed.
Yes, indeed.
Free will, afterlife all of
those, all those fun things
Rabbi David Silverstein: Okay, incredible.
Okay.
All right, Steven, this was
an amazing conversation.
Thank you so much for coming
on, and looking forward to
continuing the conversation.
R' Steven Gotlib: It was a pleasure.
Thank you for having me.
Rabbi David Silverstein: Thank
you for joining us on The Curious
Jew, a podcast of Yeshivat Orayta!
Subscribe to make sure you
catch our next conversation.