When Orthodox Jews Do Bad Things

“Just wait,” they said.

One day, they said, it would not be as simple.  It would not be as clear.

They told me about all the things that go wrong in the orthodox community.  They told me about every corrupt, every depressing, every sick thing.  They told me I would one day leave too, sick of it as they were.

I wasn’t having any of it.  So what?  Of course there are people who do bad things in the orthodox community.  They’re human.  We’re all human.  What do you expect?

“Just wait,” they said again, with their knowing looks.

These were the bitter ones, the ones who had left, or the ones who had at least joined some sort of fringe movement.  They were sick of it, sick of what they had experienced.  I didn’t understand them.  How could you make such big decisions with your life based on people?  We’re talking about G-d here, and he’s bigger than any person, than any screwup.

There must be something else going on, I thought.  It just made no sense.

I would tell them all this.  And their response was always the same: “Just wait.”

And wait I did.  I got married.  We moved to Israel.  We had children.  We did what we were supposed to, and hard as it was, we were proud of our choices.  We made choices we believed in.  We were happy.

And then we moved back to America.  To New York.  The origin of so many of those disaffected, angry, former Orthodox Jews.

It started innocently enough.  The mover who demanded I pay him more than we agreed on.  The rude people in the street, in the stores.  Snobbishness.

“It’s just New York, really,” I told myself.  And it was true, so many of these things really were things I had always associated with New York.  Part of a world I was never really interested in joining, but one that fate (read: G-d) had directed me to.

But there was a part of me that was already feeling something else.  This quiet sort of shock.

Shock that people who believed so deeply in G-d could act this way.  Could be this way.  Could betray their beliefs so publicly.

But, no, I reminded myself of the words I had used only recently.  That, of course, there will always be bad people.  There will always be people doing wrong.  It doesn’t matter if they are religious.

The intellectual part of myself agreed.  It nodded and smiled and said, “Yes, yes, of course.  Just like you said before.”

But the emotional part of myself had a harder time.  He was hurt.  Surprised.  But after a little needling, he was soon back on board.

But then it happened again.  It got worse.  Betrayals.  Lies.  Landlords who took advantage of our not being rich.  Late pay.  People who just didn’t take pride in their jobs.

All these things I had heard about.  All these things even the biggest believers acknowledge are problems.  But now, in my face.  Affecting my life.  Hurting my family.  Affecting the peace in the home.

Soon, I was telling myself those words over and over again: “Everywhere is full of bad people.  Every society has problems unique to itself.  Remember the secular world?  Remember those problems you escaped?  Remember?  Remember?  Remember?”

But the more that voice spoke, the more desperate it sounded.  “Remember?” it cried out.

And I tried so hard to go along with it.  I tried so hard.  I wanted to so badly.  But that emotional part of myself wasn’t able to hold on the way the rest of me could.  And soon it wanted to cry every time this happened.  It wanted to rend itself from the world it had gone into.  It wanted to scream out, to write an angry blog post or scream in the streets, or at the very least take off its kipah and tzitzis and go back home, back to a world whose problems it at least understood.

So for a while, I tried to ignore it.  Stopped speaking to myself at all.  Just accepted it and moved on.  Numb.  Pretending nothing was happening.

I wonder if this is perhaps why so many orthodox folks have trouble criticizing their communities.  Perhaps it’s too painful to see problems.  Perhaps it’s better to numb yourself.

But that could only last for so long.  I couldn’t handle the experience of slowly losing my faith.  I couldn’t handle the experience of having other people bring down everything I had built my life to be.

So I had to face it.  I had to.

And it was slow.  And it was painful.  There was no dramatic story behind it.  There was no emotional ending, no powerful conclusion.  In fact, it’s still going on.  Slowly, slowly.

The thing I would keep coming back to in this process was the same exact answer I gave to the people who told me to wait.

That there are good people.  And there are people who do bad things.  And they exist everywhere.  Even in the most religious places.

It was just that now, it was different.  Now I realized it wasn’t just random bad people.  There were real things wrong with this society.  Things unique specifically to it.  Things I would have to accept.  And try to understand.

I realized, also, that it is much easier to say these things than to live them.  I gained a newfound empathy for those I simply could not understand at the beginning of the process.  The people who told me, “Just wait.”

It takes fortitude, the ability to separate oneself, support from family and friends, a commitment to study and cleave to G-d more, to be able to see the bad things in a society you have given up your life to join and still love it with all your heart.

And as much as we try to pretend that those people are separate from our vision of G-d, at the end of the day, much of our understanding of G-d comes from those around us.  And when we feel the betrayed by people of G-d, we can’t help feeling betrayed by G-d himself.

So the words stayed the same: “There are people who do bad everywhere.”  But they had taken on a different life.  A deeper life.  One that wasn’t about judging the people who had left in frustration and anger, but was about helping me to understand and deal with a world that can sometimes be so backwards and difficult.


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25 responses to “When Orthodox Jews Do Bad Things”

  1. Malka Hellinger Forshner Avatar
    Malka Hellinger Forshner

    My first mashpia, Miriam Laekin, a”h, told me, “(and this was before gimmel Tammuz) “There’s only one normal role model here in CH (and she might have been referring to the frum world in general), the Rebbe.” That’s one of many of her many, very wise one-liners that has stuck with me, and helped me so much……..

  2. Sam Litvin Avatar
    Sam Litvin

    Thank you for the honest post. Religious community like those of other communities is suffering not because there are bad people, those are everywhere, but because good people in these communities do nothing. Criticism is how you police your community, it is how you make it better and how you prevent it from getting worse. By hiding what is bad, only invites more evil. By avoiding shame now the community is choosing far more shame later… and it will reverberate and affect and harm all Jews because the religious ones choose a life of righteousness and if they fail then all shall be made to be accountable for their deeds.

    1. Elad Nehorai Avatar

      I disagree that we should constantly criticize. I agree that we shouldn’t sweep things under the carpet, but we should also approach things from a place of understanding and love.

      I also think we have a responsibility to be proud of and notice all the positive things in our communities. I do think we should fix the bad, but the obsession with criticism, IMO, is just as bad as pretending there are no problems at all. There needs to be a balance. And, most of all, any criticism needs to come from love and not anger.

      1. Sam Litvin Avatar
        Sam Litvin

        Elad, how do you propose we approach child abuse, sex abuse, spousal abuse, cheating and lying with love? I’m all for it but one can criticize and hold people transgressing accountable because they love the community and they want to keep it kosher… not just the kitchens.

        1. Elad Nehorai Avatar

          Right. I’m not talking about dealing with every perpetrator, especially of the worst abuses, with love. But the community that has trouble dealing with them appropriately I think deserves love. They are not evil. And many of them may not understand what they’re doing.

          And I think people also need to work to understand the historical, societal issues that leads communities to hide these things. I think that can help approach it with love and understanding as well. These are not easy topics.

  3. Rivki Silver Avatar
    Rivki Silver

    I feel like when we reach this point, that is when we are “grown-ups,” so to speak, in our frumkeit. When we can acknowledge that there are things in frum society which are not really Torah ideals, that the ideals that we love and that drew us close are not always practiced by even our role models. It has made me daven harder for Moshiach, and made me work on my own avodas Hashem.

    1. Elad Nehorai Avatar

      Beautiful way of looking at it. Thanks for sharing, and totally agree.

    2. isaack Avatar
      isaack

      I was just having this discussion with my chavrusa today. The problem is exactly that word: frum

      There is a very large divide between yiddishkeit/Judaism and “frumkeit.” So much of public observance devolves around being “frum” in ways which have literally nothing to do with Judaism, and at times can be antithetical to it.

      For instance, the obsession over a particular set of garb as a prerequisite of observance is directly contrary to Jewish thought. In fact, the Talmud clearly states that anyone who verbalizes the belief that they must be dressed in particular manner in order to pray is banned from leading prayer even if they don’t dress that way, because the idea itself is heretical. There is nothing Jewish about being “frum” – nowhere in Chazal is a black hat, black suit, and a white shirt obligatory or even recommended. That said, I have nothing against those who chose to conform, but to me conformity without reason is just as bad as rebellion without reason.

      The hardest moment for me was when I faced this “frumkeit prejudice” in my own community. After asking why, as a skilled ba’al tefillah who has always received complements on my voice, I was almost never asked to daven, the gabbai sheepishly told me that I should “wear a white shirt.” Apparently, a vocal and influential member of the congregation would raise a ruckus when the people’s shirts weren’t the right color. Fortunately, the rabbi quickly assured me that such was not the policy of the shul, but the gabbaim still would not give me the opportunity to daven for the amud, nor would they reveal who this person was so that I might discuss their particular prejudice with them and come to an understanding.

      To this day, I struggle with the offense.

      On one hand, knowing that I would never be chosen to lead has propelled me to focus and hone my davening like never before, but the pain of experiencing this baseless discrimination hasn’t left me, and it is hard to set foot in that shul without feeling anger. Despite enjoying most every other aspect of that synagogue, I have since started regularly davening with another kehillah.

      This is one of a handful of very painful stories that has altered the course of my yiddishkeit. I recognize that these are just flawed human beings, no more and no less, but the association of suffering with areas of religious observance has profoundly changed me.

  4. Uriel Dunn Avatar
    Uriel Dunn

    There are many good people out there, and In this golus everything sometimes seems to be upside-down, or inside out. Of course we come across these people who do bad things. Or we get into tough situations that challenges our faith, which I feel somewhat credible to express. We could just throw our tzit-tzit and Yamica out the window for an easy solution, but would that truly make us happy? I am am saddened by some of the attitudes in the frum community, however, I am also very impressed in certain areas as well.

    I would literally see people get into fights or business transaction in the from community over the last few years and they were literally in war with each other, however, I have also seen those people get past the war and become friends with the same person that they were in machlochus with. Im talking about myself in one or two cases and the people I’ve worked with personally. Not everytime will an argument be resolved, but with a Jewish perspective at least theres more of a chance that we will come to an understanding. As you grow more sensitive to yedishkeit and Jewish ideasI believe that you start understanding people better. And that we all try to be the best we can or like Hashem, but sometimes we fall short. And then on top of that we have the ability to change and mend a broken situation. We can only do our best as yidden and keep our focus in the right direction.

  5. Rebecca K. Avatar
    Rebecca K.

    I wish I could remember the exact name, but one prominent rabbi once said, “My yetzer hara wears a black hat, too.”

    Yes, many of the character deficits we see as frum Jews within our community are the same ones we see in the broader world, but — as you mentioned — there are some system-wide troubles, too, that seem to be specific to our community. Since the yetzer hara has to counter the yetzer tov in a way that actually provides a challenge, each person’s yetzer will be different, so a person who is frum will get a different “flavor” yetzer than one who is not. I guess this is also related to the R. Dessler idea of a bechira point.

    I think many who are frum for a while (like Rivki Silver already said, “the grown-ups”) see the balance of good and bad without the rose-colored glasses we had when we first became frum. The Torah doesn’t miraculously wipe out the yetzer the moment we embrace it — we have to continuously turn to it as a weapon in a never-ending battle. But I also think, for me, three other things happened:

    1) I focused on the positive things I saw around me, which far outweighed the negative.

    2) I began to recognize that there are Jews who dress and talk “Orthodox,” but aren’t really developing themselves inside, talking to G-d, following daas Torah, which is what a “frum” person must do. (I’m not talking about people who “go off the derech” — I’m talking about people who think they put on a sheitel or black hat and then can consistently cheat in business or mistreat other people. Such people don’t really think G-d runs the world and sees everything.) And I became sad for them, because they’ve missed a precious opportunity.
    3) I looked at myself and what was happening to me. If I really look inside myself, I see that I have grown in many ways throughout my observant life. But I still have lots of battles to fight! I still occasionally yell at my kids, burst into tears or throw tantrums when I’m frustrated, get jealous, etc. I do dumb things. I sometimes feel ga’ava and then Hashem knocks me down. If I’m still waging my war after 15 years+ of Torah-committed life, why should I expect other people to be saints.

    1. Elad Nehorai Avatar

      Love every word!

  6. Ruchi Koval Avatar
    Ruchi Koval

    Elad, not trying to divide, just to understand. Are we talking about ffbs here? Who do bad things?

    1. Elad Nehorai Avatar

      I suppose so. Not necessarily, though. More like, people established within a community.

      1. Ruchi Koval Avatar
        Ruchi Koval

        Because ffbs are far more likely to be going through the motions. They are less likely to have consciously opted in.

  7. EBass Avatar
    EBass

    Also think that this is for sure a maturation process, one I also have been going through over many years and still dancing/wrestling with… It also seems that it’s a developmental stage thing, but also a confidence thing…it takes a lot of confidence, or a certain comfort level to start to face the shadow for real. As Carl Jung said “the shadow is the royal road to the self” and so facing these shadowy parts of our community and the world at large is I believe a part of a larger process of growth and truly becoming strong…but I also remember learning that a concept in Mussar is that in order to change the negative traits you have to focus on and strengthen the positive…so it seems we need to do both, gain strength and get energy from all the good, but we have to use that and have the courage and confidence in who we are in order to look into the shadows ..or at the very least, to shine a light on them in order to address, acknowledge and attempt to change them. I went through a really hard time realizing that spiritual people are FAR from perfect, and worse, can be really messed up. However for me it became more complex, as I then had to let myself off the hook, and not keep thinking I had to be perfect in order to be holy or spiritual. This was really helpful to me, even though the realization of the depth of difficulty that could arise in the religious world (as in all worlds, as I grew up not Jewish and totally secular, and there are awfully scary things in that world too). It’s just harder when someone is wearing the team uniform, or saying one thing and doing another that I think is often the biggest trigger, that and it’s also hard to address because you don’t want to have it all piled onto what is already a mounting anti-semitism in the world. How do you address an issue without labelling the child/person/community/religion etc….? How do you hold all the pieces?

  8. Marcia Avatar
    Marcia

    My mantra: Don’t confuse Jews with Judaism. It is a valuable truth.

  9. Rafi Hecht Avatar

    I hope I don’t sound too weird in what I’m about to say. It might come across as Zen-ish 🙂

    After a considerable amount of introspection, I began to realize that the essence of G-dliness is love – that’s it. “Love” is the one word that fuses R’ Akiva’s “Love your peer as yourself” and Hillel’s “Whatever you don’t want done to you, don’t do to others.”

    The purpose of life is to get closer to the Divine out of our own free will (which is for a different discussion). The Torah and Mitzvos contained within it are meant to get us closer to G-d and by way of that, that love that we yearn for.

    When people that outwardly look frum do bad things, they’re orthoprax, not orthodox. They’re ritualistic, not religious. There are sadly lots of people like that, who will cheat you in business and in life. We must believe that there’s a nice hot place waiting for people like those, Yarmulkes/Tzitzis or not.

    I strongly believe that Judaism as a religion and way of life is a very wise one. It’s one that has been so popular that two other major religions are based on it. All we can do is try to “discover” Gd for ourselves using the guidelines that our wise Rabbis laid out years ago (tried, tested and true), and pity, if not help, those that lost their way.

    To quote another commenter here, “Don’t confuse Jews with Judaism. It is a valuable truth.”

  10. Rafi Hecht Avatar

    I hope I don’t sound too weird in what I’m about to say. It might come across as Zen-ish 🙂

    After a considerable amount of introspection, I began to realize that the essence of G-dliness is love – that’s it. “Love” is the one word that fuses R’ Akiva’s “Love your peer as yourself” and Hillel’s “Whatever you don’t want done to you, don’t do to others.”

    The purpose of life is to get closer to the Divine out of our own free will (which is for a different discussion). The Torah and Mitzvos contained within it are meant to get us closer to G-d and by way of that, that love that we yearn for.

    When people that outwardly look frum do bad things, they’re orthoprax, not orthodox. They’re ritualistic, not religious. There are sadly lots of people like that, who will cheat you in business and in life. We must believe that there’s a nice hot place waiting for people like those, Yarmulkes/Tzitzis or not.

    I strongly believe that Judaism as a religion and way of life is a very wise one. It’s one that has been so popular that two other major religions are based on it. All we can do is try to “discover” Gd for ourselves using the guidelines that our wise Rabbis laid out years ago (tried, tested and true), and pity, if not help, those that lost their way.

    To quote another commenter here, “Don’t confuse Jews with Judaism. It is a valuable truth.”

  11. […] don’t think that we should pretend that living in Orthodox society is some utopia, and as Pop Chassid wrote this week, the more we acknowledge the flaws of religious society, the more we can feel empathy for those who […]

  12. Lieba Rudolph Avatar

    There’s always more to the story, but still, it’s heartbreaking the first time a ba’al teshuvah has to take off the rose-colored glasses. My advice is to put them back on quickly, and try to leave them on so you can do what the Rebbe has urged each of us to do– see the world the way it will be when Moshiach comes.
    (By the way, have you ever considered moving to Pittsburgh??)

  13. tani P. Avatar

    “All God’s children are terrible” – Liz Lemon.

  14. Kira Sirote Avatar

    I found this very touching. You are right, this should not be happening. How can the Torah, which expects so much, create people who do not display basic decency? And how dare they, who do not even reach the level of a normal human being, dare walk around pretending that they serve Hashem?

    I write a blog on the Haftarot, and when I was writing about the Haftarah of Metzora, it resonated with what I had read here. So first, I want to thank you. And second, perhaps you will find it interesting to hear that the Torah anticipated this phenomenon. It is not new, and even people who lived at the time of Nevu’ah and spent all their time with holy men, they could also turn out to not have reached the level of a normal human being.

    http://www.torahforum.org/haftara/?p=337 I hope you find it helpful.

  15. […] My last three years in a religious community have been very hard for me as a Jew.  I’ve written as much many times. […]

  16. matthewberns Avatar
    matthewberns

    “And as much as we try to pretend that those people are separate from our vision of G-d, at the end of the day, much of our understanding of G-d comes from those around us.”… I can’t relate to this. For me, G-d and people are two dramatically different entities. It’s not to say that I don’t see G-d in people and otherwise in my daily life. I do. But G-d and people, frum Jews included, are seperate.

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