When Baalei Teshuvah Reconsider

Reviewing Rabbi Zecharya Greenwald's Life After Teshuvah (Mosaica, 2024)

Rabbi Zecharya Greenwald’s Life After Teshuvah: Five, Ten, and Twenty Years Later is, to my knowledge, the first book by a mainstream Yeshivish figure to explicitly address the issue of Baalei Teshuvah who come to regret their decision to embrace Orthodox Judaism down the road.

Rabbi Greenwald (who I had never heard of prior to reading this book) is Menahel of the Me’Ohr Beis Yaakov Teachers Seminary in Jerusalem. As far as I can tell, he was born and raised in the Yeshivish community and became close with the Rav Shlomo Wolbe Zt”l when he learned in Lakewood. He wrote this book after decades of experience working with many of the Yeshivish children of Baalei Teshuvah:

These idealistic and dedicated parents often find themselves ill-equipped to deal with the challenges inherent in raising their children in a now foreign and sadly, sometimes unfriendly, environment. Many suffer from disillusionment, frustration, unanswered questions, and feelings of lost opportunities. Still others grapple with the pain of loneliness and a sense of alienation or estrangement from their birth families. In addition, there are so many difficulties in raising their own children in a world so different than where they come from. When some of these extraordinary individuals who have dedicated so much to learning and developing an entirely new way of life are faced with challenges that cause enough confusion to question themselves and their choices, it is painful beyond description. I have seen and spoken to many people who are in this position, which has heightened the imperative for writing this book. I stand with awe before these giants of spirit and action, and with humility, I present my ideas. (xxxvii-xxxviii)

Rabbi Greenwald makes it clear that the book is “addressed to the many extraordinary people who have made quantum changes in their religious lives, and not to the general readership of b’nei Torah who were brought up keeping Torah and mitzvos” (xix). I and a disproportionate percentage of my readers are well within his target audience, so I think it’s appropriate to share this review on my Substack.

Rabbi Greenwald first acknowledges many legitimate questions which plague many BTs, even years or decades after initially becoming observant:

Today’s baalei teshuvah, returnees, face a constantly changing set of circumstances on a personal level while simultaneously raising their children in environments and value systems that differ radically from those in which they were raised. Although usually integrated into their communities, these intelligent and capable people may confront countless situations for which they are not prepared. They often do not have the fine-tuned perception or experience to know what is acceptable in this new environment and what is not.

Many questions plague them on a daily basis: How do we know what is right? How should we guide our children? May we get our son a pet dog? Can I allow my children to watch some kinds of movies on our computer? What am I supposed to do with perplexing thoughts and feelings about my own development and changes? Where can I turn when things get rough? what do I do when I fundamentally disagree with values that the Torah society seems to completely accept? Will anyone take me seriously if I am just a BT? (2)

Rabbi Greenwald also correctly notes that finding inner peace with one’s strict religious observance cannot simply result from following the pack:

A quantum change is one that has occurred in the perceived goals in life, in the way family life is organized, the way our children’s schools are run, and even the attitude with which they go to school. As what is expected of people in our community changes somewhat from one generation to the next, it is understandable that trying to distinguish right from wrong can be confusing. One who has made quantum changes often does not have the frame of reference with which to make this distinction. It is difficult to live in a new community when you don’t always know what is acceptable, borderline, or completely beyond the pale.

You cannot just assume that you will be able to figure out all the answers by observing what others in your circle are doing. When you are a few years into your growth and building a family, you cannot be satisfied merely with imitating your neighbors. In the beginning, perhaps, you watched you watched what page they were on so you knew where you were supposed to be in the siddur. As you develop and reach a more sophisticated level of observance, however, an internal feeling of connection with Hashem and the mitzvos cannot just be imitated. In doing that, you will neither learn how to make life decisions nor understand how to raise your children. At this point, what everyone else is doing should not matter. There is no such thing as everybody else! We need the tools and skills to decide what is right for us. (6-7)

Thus far, this is one of the best English books on the market addressing BTs - and, in my opinion, it is not a particularly close race. This is further complimented by Rabbi Greenwald’s willingness to write about various different reasons someone could choose to become a BT in the first place; searching for spirituality, finding Truth, feeling a need to belong to a community beyond ourselves, frustration with the secular world, rebelling against our families, or peer pressure from hanging out with frum Jews can all be reasons for one to make these “quantum changes” and initially become a BT. This recognition is key to understanding how BTs think about their Judaism and I was pleasantly surprised to see a mainstream Yeshivish author so willing to admit that people join Orthodoxy for reasons other than accepting the Kuzari Principle. On this front, Rabbi Greenwald joins the ranks of contemporary Orthodox apologists (in the true sense of the word) like Sam Lebens, Raphael Zarum, Tamar Ross, and others while parting ways with a significant number of Chareidi kiruv personalities.

Rabbi Greenwald then moves to directly address BTs who find themselves questioning their decisions. And this is my first major criticism of Life After Teshuvah. Rabbi Greenwald pays lip-service to single and/or recently married Baalei Teshuvah, but then proceeds to make arguments that are only relevant to those who already have children. While one may argue that the arguments he makes equally apply to younger BTs who are not yet raising families, just on a smaller scale, Rabbi Greenwald’s commitment to the idea that “situations cannot be remedied by wishing you could turn the clock back and do things differently… Second-guessing yourself instead of trying to find the best and most realistic solutions is not productive” (11) is not entirely true for a younger audience. Those who do not yet have children may find it more productive to get divorced before tying themselves to the religious community in that way and those who are not yet married may find it more productive to change their lifestyle entirely before making such a commitment.

Regardless, it is very instructive to examine Rabbi Greenwald’s overall argument even while acknowledging its limited ability to compel those at earlier stages of their journey who have more theoretical doors open to them. What does Rabbi Greenwald suggest is most productive for a BT who finds themselves questioning their decisions?

Don’t be afraid of “doing less,” because if your initial motivations brought you to stringent positions that are now causing resentment, it means that you began on the wrong foot and need to “restart” your Yiddishkeit. You restart your computer in order to get it running more accurately and more smoothly. Sometimes, you need to begin in safe mode to be able to adjust things so that you can get to normal mode. You don’t turn it off and leave it off. (26)

This admission, which speaks about a process that I know myself and many others have undergone in private, is astonishing (in the best of ways) to see written so clearly by someone from the mainstream Yeshivish world. The acknowledgement, however, is tempered by Rabbi Greenwald’s unwavering commitment to maintaining the Yeshivish status-quo over and above public expressions of such religious reboots. While writing that people “need not be embarrassed about our backgrounds” and that one should “feel good about who we are, not because of doing this, that, or the other” Rabbi Greenwald also writes that people “do not need excuses or pronouncements, and we certainly do not need to go against the stream to show our differences” (45).

What does he mean by that? This becomes clear when we examine Rabbi Greenwald’s advice for maintaining aspects of our previous lives. “If you formerly had a hobby, an interest, or even just a favorite pastime that was very much a part of your life,” he wrote, “you should not ignore it now. It is vital to acknowledge this part of you that still exists deep down inside” (82). He also, however, implores BTs to “live your life quietly and do not make announcements about your hobbies… Do things you love with your children, but with a moderation that does not make them stand out from the crowd, and they will do well in their environment” (83). Hobbies are just one example:

We must understand that our superficial society is a result of oversimplification. When we make decisions to do things that differ from the accepted norms, to be nonconformist and expose our families to different activities, dress them differently, and so on, we must realize that these choices - while not in any way influencing the community to change (i.e., become less one-dimensional) - can very possibly harm our children. Our choices cannot disturb the balance between their acceptance of what they are learning in school and what they see at home. We need to be very careful not to make them feel out of place because they don’t do what the people they admire do, or because they, like you, begin to find fault with the community and as a result lose their respect for authority. (87)

Be yourself, then, but not too loudly. Maintain your previous hobbies and interests but keep them under the radar and visible only to parents, children, spouses, and maybe (but not necessarily) close friends. But what if one finds that they cannot help but express themselves in ways which may go against the grain of their chosen community?

The conflict we cause with mixed messages can well place our children at risk. If we are not capable of conforming, there are two options to avoid this. We can work together changing some things in our community, or we can move to a different one. We cannot, however, live somewhere and make choices that will be perceived as statements that go against the values of those around us and then be upset because we are being looked at askance. Nor should we be surprised when our children give up on the chief values for which we joined this community as a result of not giving up on the less vital ones. Our decisions teach our children exactly how much or how little we respect the community in which we are living. (87)

In other words, if you find yourself too much at variance with your community, it is time to find another. Not every community is right for every kind of person and if you get looked at askance because you want to wear blue shirts it might be time to move somewhere where more people wear blue shirts. Later in the book, Rabbi Greenwald identifies some of the different types of acceptable communities:

Every person reading this book has an integrated system of thought. You came from one place, you have come to another place, and you have integrated your two worlds into a system that works for you. Some of you are comfortable with your system, others less so, but you are living with the combination. In order to achieve that comfort level, you most likely had to have incorporated some elements from your former world into your current one. While we want to be role models for our children, we have to understand that they are not always capable of achieving that integration.

We live in a clearly defined, labeled world. There are Chassidic, Litvish, Yeshivish, and Modern Orthodox categories with variations on each, not to mention the varieties of Yeshivish and Chassidic. There are, perhaps, fifty different labels that define different types of Shabbos-observing religious people and their systems of belief. (202)

Here we have another striking admission from such a mainstream figure: Modern Orthodox Judaism is a valid category. If one does not fit in the Yeshivish or Chassidic worlds or wants to live in a community that has more room for halakhic, hashkafic, and cultural variation then one should embrace Modern Orthodoxy. After generations of looking to the Modern Orthodox world with suspicion, it is here (and only this one time in the entire book) listed as a perfectly legitimate path for those who are out of the box and require a worldview and community which allows them to celebrate that rather than hide it.

Life After Teshuvah, then, can be read in two ways. On the one hand, it is a book full of fear-mongering tactics designed to keep BTs who begin to question their journey within the frum community by threatening them with their children’s alienation if they dare move too far beyond communal norms. While acknowledging that people become frum for a variety of reasons, it is also assumed that their reasons for reconsidering are practical or emotional rather than intellectual with no consideration given at all to the idea that, perhaps, one has encountered arguments that call their Orthodox commitments into question. In those regards, the book is quite weak and actively frustrated me on a number of occasions.

On the other hand, Life After Teshuvah is a groundbreaking acknowledgement of the struggles faced by Baalei Teshuvah and their children in the frum world. Rabbi Greenwald is prepared to be as open and up-front as possible about these challenges and is unafraid to say the quiet parts out loud. It is a painfully honest portrayal of the Chareidi world and the struggles that BTs genuinely face within it, both initially and down the road. He acknowledges that not every frum community is right for every Jew and, in that way, throws the traditional kiruv market on its head by explicitly allowing those who find it hard to fit in to embrace other communities instead rather than continue struggling with their inner turmoil and is the first genuinely Yeshivish acceptance of Modern Orthodoxy that I have yet come across in writing. That even Rav Ahron Feldman of Baltimore’s Ner Yisroel considers this book “an invaluable resource” is reassuring and, in these regards, the book is important for all BTs to know about.

In a podcast interview with Rabbi Dovid Orlofsky, Rabbi Greenwald discussed the impact that Baalei have had on the Yeshivish world. They particularly discussed how such individuals were able to offer needed outsider perspectives which become fundamental for the community moving forward. The same, of course, is true for those who have entered Modern Orthodoxy from communities to the right. Fundamental thinkers like Rav Soloveitchik, Rav Aharon Lichtenstein, Rabbi Dr. Norman Lamm, and others got their initial training within Chareidi environments and came to Modern Orthodoxy at various points. Without their influence, the Modern Orthodox community would not be the same.

In the opening chapter of Life After Teshuvah, Rabbi Greenwald wrote the following:

We are surrounded by a secular, superficial world. As insular as our community attempts to remain, we still need to write contracts, do business, and interact with professionals like doctors, psychologists, and lawyers. Over the course of a few years, there has been a tremendous incursion of people into even the most insular Yeshivish and Chassidic communities, bringing with their immense professional knowledge and broad experience. In addition, we have artists, performers, and musicians along with designers and inventors, all contributing to the wealth of experience and services that add to our community in so many ways.

This is a blessing for us, as these newcomers contribute greatly to the growth and welfare of the community. Besides the wonderful addition of so many Jewish souls who are doing the will of Hashem, we see the added berachah of people with varied backgrounds who are adding new dimensions of understanding, perception, knowledge, and skills to our nation. (16)

It is undeniably the case that Baalei Teshuvah have offered tremendous insights and blessings to every community they find themselves in. And it is imperative to ensure that all Baalei Teshuvah are able to find the communities that are right for them, rather than harm themselves and others in the struggle to fit where they do not belong anyway.