Pirkei Avot and Leaving Conservative Judaism

This past Shabbat, Jews across the world studied the first chapter of Pirkei Avot as we began the trek from Passover to Shavuot. This year, I’m using Rav Asher Weiss on Avos (Mosaica Press, 2024) to compliment my study and have yet to be disappointed.

The set begins with a question: why is this masechta of mishnayot refered to as Avot in the first place? Several initial answers are offered - perhaps because the authors also authored all of the Shas, perhaps because the teachings within are the “avot” of mussar, etc. Rav Asher, however, is unsatisfied with those suggestions, and offers one of his own instead:

This masechta is unlike any other. All other masechtos discuss matters of halachah; this masechta discusses mussar and middos (ethics and character traits). As such, one might have thought that a person could understand mussar and middos by himself through his moral intuition, and that they are not part of the mesorah. The Mishnah teaches us that this is not the case. A person may not deduce mussar and middos himself; they were given at Sinai and handed down from Moshe to Yehoshua.

This is why the masechta is called Avos. Its name teaches us that mussar and middos are also the teachings of the avos; regarding them, too, we turn to the avos of the world, the avos of wisdom, to teach us.

This idea is expanded on powerfully in Rav Asher’s comments on Avot 1:1:

The period of transmission from the Neviim to the Anshei K’nesses Hagedolahwas of deep significance. Neviim, who hear the pure word of Hashem are unlike Chachamim (Sages) who must derive it from the Torah. The end of the era of Neviim brought a close to the Torah She’bichsav (with the sealing of the Tanach) and a shift of emphasis to Torah She’baal Peh.

Since this was a moment of transition between two eras, there was a necessity for some overlap. Those continuing the mesorah and deriving the Torah She’baal Peh were accompanied by several Neviim from the previous era so that the two eras and two elements of Torah would be united - two sides of the same coin.

The written Torah must always inform the Oral Torah and both Torot must together inform the contemporary Jew. Indeed, Rav Asher concludes his comments on this mishnah by writing that a Jewish leader “must be a person who can put up with others and who can relate to each and every person in terms of their makeup and disposition.” At the same time, though, they must “also work to ensure that Torah is adhered to, leading without fear and, where necessary, “go counter to the spirit of others,” be they particular or mild in nature.” A similar idea is written by Rabbi Samuel Sperber, translated by his son Professor Daniel Sperber:

Just as the laws of nature make it impossible to abrogate any element of creation, but allow for elements to be combined, so no aspect of the Torah can ever be abrogated and no new idea can be created which does not have a firm basis in tradition, so that no one can create a new Torah and still imagine that he remains within the bounds of the given Torah.

Judaism, in other words, requires continuity with Torah if it is to remain true to itself.

I’ve thought about this a lot, having grown up within the Conversative Movement (the longstanding motto of which is Tradition and Change). Recently, however, two Substack essays have particularly taken up space in my head. The first is titled Why the Conservative (Jewish) Movement is Dying And How to Save It. The second, a response to the first, is Conservative Judaism is Over, and That's Fine. What both have in common is a call for the Conservative Movement to change gears, whether that means embracing a model more like Chabad or dropping the “conservative” brand and overhauling the ritual and educational experience of the movement. These pieces are the latest in a trend of Conservative thinkers rethinking how the movement ought to operate at a time in which it seems to be shrinking faster than ever. I have nothing to say to either author, but would like to share an email that I wrote to the Conservative Movement’s leadership almost exactly one year ago (the wording will no-doubt need some unpacking for my Orthodox readers):

Dear Rabbi Blumenthal,

I hope that you and your family are doing well during these challenging times for Klal Yisrael. A friend of mine sent me your recent Times of Israel article overnight, and I wanted to take a few minutes to reach out.

By way of introduction, my name is Steven Gotlib. I'm a 28 year old Modern Orthodox rabbi but identify strongly as a product of the Conservative Movement. I attended the Fair Lawn Jewish Center every week growing up, celebrated Shabbat with my family, stayed in Hebrew School through 12th grade, and spent every summer with either Ramah or USY. I was on the board of Rutgers Koach, and I happily got married at the shul where I was raised. Despite my change in denominational affiliation, I never stopped identifying with Conservative Judaism. The writings of Schechter, Ginzberg, Heschel, Gillman, and more still proudly fill my bookshelves, and I have long argued that Torah U'Madda is a different way of saying Tradition and Change.

I write this email with no antagonism towards the Conservative Movement. On the contrary, I would love to see it thrive - my youngest sister just celebrated her Bat-Mitzvah last year and nothing would make me prouder than for her to remain an active member of the movement. I cannot help but worry, though.

Your article advocated expanding the Conservative Movement's focus "to become an engine for engagement in Torah study, spiritual experience, love of Israel, and social action through five initiatives: Thriving congregations; Teen engagement and leadership; Young adult engagement and leadership; Engaging new audiences, especially through digital platforms Renewing our Conservative/Masorti Movement institutions and ideas." I commend all of these, but would like to share my story with you as a cautionary tale.

I left the Conservative Movement because it was signaled to me time and again from both laypeople and rabbis within the movement that there was no room socially for someone who kept Shabbat/Halakhah in the way I did. It had nothing to do with egalitarianism, rejection of academic approaches to texts, politics, rebellion, etc. When I started walking to shul, people there started calling me Orthodox and encouraged me to attend Orthodox shuls and youth organizations instead, where I would have more peers my age doing the same. I distinctly remember thinking to myself "I guess that means I'm Orthodox now." That transition was not despite the Conservative community I was otherwise part of, but was because the community collectively preferred to see me become Orthodox fully than try to stay within the movement while being more observant than the average congregant. The extreme irony is that I only started to take halakhah seriously in my life as a result of my summers at Ramah and with USY. USY on Wheels was my first time keeping Shabbat and I wanted nothing more following that summer than to be a Shomer Shabbat Conservative Jew.

I wish I could say that I was a rarity, but I know many people (individuals, couples, and families) who identify wholeheartedly with Conservative Judaism but attend Orthodox synagogues as dues-paying members simply because it’s where they have a critical mass of halakhically observant peers. Otherwise egalitarian men and women are willing to put up with a mechitza, members of the LGBTQIA+ community are willing to stomach Orthodoxy, and Conservative converts are willing to get new Orthodox conversions in exchange for the tremendous gift of being able to both talk and daven with the same people.

So I can't help but wonder if the Conservative Movement's plans to increase engagement involve embracing the traditionally observant members of the Movement or if the trends that I and so many others grew up with will only be exacerbated?

I understand that this is a long email so I assume you won't read it, but I hope that you do and that you take it with the true love and hakarat hatov that is meant. I am thankful every day to have grown up within the Conservative Movement and look forward to a day when people like me will not feel forced into Orthodoxy by the very people we wanted to spend our lives davening with.

Wishing you a meaningful Shavuot,

Rabbi Steven Gotlib

Surprisingly, Rabbi Blumenthal did respond to my email in a timely manner. In his response, which I doubt I have permission to share, he acknowledged the legitimacy of my concerns.

I openly share the above to hammer in just how important the opening message of Pirkei Avot is. Without maintaining continuity with our sacred traditions, we risk alienating those who wish to honor them and losing our very identity and values in the process. I initially left the Conservative movement not because of any issues I had with it on paper - I had read many of the movement’s main teshuvot and (at the time) was prepared to live by them. I initially left the movement because I was told to daven elsewhere as a result of my immediate community not knowing what to do with a teenager who wanted to be Shomer Shabbat by the movement’s own standards. It was an incredibly painful experience that, in many ways, continues to haunt me.

But it also informs my rabbinic approach. I may be an Orthodox rabbi today, but I see it as my job to share Torah with and keep my door open to all Jews, regardless of denominational affiliation or level of observance. To make my version of Orthodoxy something that anyone be in conversation with and learn something from at their own pace and in their own ways. Based on some feedback I’ve received from this Substack, it seems to be working out so far. I hope it continues and I hope that more bridges can be built in the process. May the weekly learning of Pirkei Avot many are engaged in help strengthen those bonds.

As always, thank you for reading. I’ll be resuming more traditional book reviews in the near future!