Eliezer b. Hyrcanus is the first Tannaitic master for some of whose sayings we have chains of tradition, that is, authorities who say, “I heard from…” or, more commonly, Rabbi X says/said that Rabbi Y says that R. Eliezer b. Hyrcanus says/said. In addition, some of the Toseftan traditions about Eliezer, like many of those about disputes of the Houses, contain redefinitions of the substance of a dispute, or of the protasis of the pericope, preserving the apodosis just as it appears in the Mishnah. These constitute important evidence about the formation of Eliezer’s sayings; they tell us that a given authority knew and did not accept the specification of an opinion of Eliezer or of a matter about which he and others disputed, as given anonymously, but preferred a different formulation of the matter. Finally, we have, primarily from Judah b. Ilai, a number of opinions for Eliezer which are either consistent with (or contradict) anonymous Mishnaic laws, but which do not appear in the Mishnah in Eliezer’s name.

Jacob Neusner, <i>Eliezer ben Hyrcanus: The Tradition and the Man</i> Part Two (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1973), 73.

In 1797, R. Abraham of Kalisk, from the Holy Land, wrote a poignant letter attacking the Tanya. His concern was the explicit nature in which R. Shneur Zalman endeavors to explicate the message of the Besht and Maggid via Lurianic concepts.

R. Shneur Zalman wrote Tanya as a systematic guide. His intention was to uplift the masses and allow them to genuinely connect to the higher chain of mystical literature. However, R. Abraham felt that the great majority of Hasidic constituents had no place on that path. Rather, they were only meant to absorb the simple teachings that were placed before them. He did not trust the Hasidim; he did not think that they had the proper tools to understand the true teachings of the Besht and the Maggid.

R. Abraham of Kalisk’s point of contention, the manner in which R. Shneur Zalman explained the Hasidic doctrine, is exactly what made Tanya provocative and unique. R. Shneur created an organized and intellectual manual for his disciples. His goal was to use kabbalistic language in order to rationally elucidate the teachings of the Besht and Maggid. The Tanya employs an intellectual perspective to Hasidism; for this is precisely the meaning of Habad—Hokhmah (wisdom), Binah (understanding) and Da’at (knowledge). R. Abraham felt that empowering the Hasid himself to understand, rationally, the depths of the teachings takes away from the centrality of the Hasidic leader. The leader of a Hasidic group, referred to as the Zaddik, is not a mere communal head, rather he expresses cosmological and spiritual powers. This is perhaps the greatest innovation of Hasidism. R. Shneur Zalman changed this socio-religious dependence that the Hasid maintained towards the Zaddik, since he no longer had to rely on his faith of the Zaddik. Now, the Hasid had direct access to the esoteric teachings.
R. Shneur Zalman changed the leader/disciple relationship by establishing local guides, students of high intellectual pedigree, who assisted others to understand the meaning of Tanya. This was a further critique of R. Abraham of Kalisk, since Hasidic teachings in his mind were not intellectual teachings that could merely be explained. Rather, the illumination of esoteric Hasidic teachings required charisma. He maintained that they were meant to only be given over by a highly elevated and spiritual person— the Zaddikhimself.

Ben Vago, “Head to Head: Power Struggles in the Creation and Formation of the Habad Movement” Milin Havivin 4 (2010), 136-137.

Rabbi Fabian Schonfeld: I think a rabbi who feels burnt out shouldn’t have been a rabbi in the first place. You have to go into this profession, if you can call it a profession, with a spirit of dedication to Torah, to chinuch, to Klal Yisrael. If you do, you don’t get burnt out. I’ve seen rabbis who are burnt out. They get tired of meetings and with fighting with the congregation, with the shul president. But you have to feel the aish da’as, the fire of Torah, within you—independent of age, independent of circumstances. If you don’t have that, you shouldn’t be a rabbi.

Rabbi Dr. Gilbert Klaperman: We have to examine why a rabbi’s burnt out. Is it because he’s working too hard? Or because the challenge is too much for him? Or because he was never meant to be a rabbi? I had a non-Jewish friend [who was] a minister. He used to speak about his colleagues and say, “He was defrocked. He was unsuited.” There are young men who went into the rabbinate out of commitment, out of desire, but they’re not meant to be rabbis. They get burnt out very quickly, because the rabbinate is a challenging profession. It’s hard work. It’s demanding work. It’s intellectually challenging. The rabbis I see here [around this table] don’t look burnt out to me. Why? Because they were suited to be rabbis.

Fifty Years in the Pulpit: Seven Veteran Rabbis Tell It Like It Was,” Jewish Action 69, No. 1 (Fall 5769/2008), 33.

With the emergence of Reform Judaism early in the nineteenth century…, appeal to the concepts of modernity and progress came to serve as the normative criterion for determining the value of Torah law. In the words of the third plank of the Pittsburgh Platform (1885): “We recognize in the Mosaic legislation a system of training the Jewish people for its mission during its national life in Palestine, and today we accept as binding only its moral laws, and maintain only such ceremonies as elevate and sanctify our lives, but reject all such as are not adapted the views and habits of modern civilization.” This statement of Reform Judaism in the nineteenth century demonstrates that the medieval rabbinic resistance to pursuing matters of human authorship was not unfounded. Subsequent history has shown that the traditional halakhic life is indeed endangered if the diachronic character of the Torah is openly and actively developed without any countervailing force. Concentration on the human authors could and, in this case, did detract from belief in the divine origin of the book. When a scripture comes to be seen as a product of culture, one that comes into existence through a long, variegated historical process, then the unity of the scripture – the simultaneity, self-referentiality, and mutual implication of all its parts – is thrown into doubt. As in the case of the third plank of the Pittsburgh Platform, the result is often a justification for the nonperformance of scriptural norms, in this instance, offensive or inconvenient Torah commandments (mitsvot). R. J. Zwi Werblowsky points out that “Liberal and Reform Judaism once welcomed Biblical criticism precisely [because] they found in criticism a welcome ally in their struggle to get rid of the Law and to substitute for it a purely ethical (and so-called ‘prophetic’) Judaism.” In fairness, however, it must also be noted that the perception of the Torah as an artifact of human culture that, like all others, reflects its own period led the liberals, in turn, to suspect that the totality of its norms could no longer be applied in the vastly different historical situation of modern Western Europe and America. As a contingent product of history, the Torah – or at least its superseded aspects – had to yield to the contingencies of history. To avoid the putative fossilization of the community, liberalism elected to fossilize large parts of the Torah, using historical methods to show that they are a dead letter. The theological liberals could do this only because they had shifted the locus of normativity from the text and the tradition onto the historical process, the dictates of autonomous reason, the conscience of the individual, and the like.

Jon D. Levenson, “The Eighth Principle of Judaism and the Literary Simultaneity of Scripture,” in The Old Testament, the Hebrew Bible, and Historical Criticism: Jews and Christians in Biblical Studies (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1993), 75-76.

The direction of Israel education is lagging woefully behind the changes that have taken place among American Jewish youth. Although substantive changes are slowly taking place through the efforts of various institutions such as the Jewish Agency, the I-Center and others, it takes a long time to effect change in the field. In the end, people stick to what they are used to. Most of the teachers in today’s classrooms grew up and were educated themselves in the era of post-1967 knee-jerk connection to and support of Israel. Too often, we enter the classroom with the same falafel, Herzl, and “they-want-to-kill-us-but-they-can’t” narrative. Most of our students are simply not in this place.

Yigal Ariha and Laura Shaw Frank, “Ears that Can Hear: Israel Education for the Twenty-First Century,” Conversations Issue 10 (Spring 2011), 45.

Halacha’s successful adaptation to the needs of exile preserved the Jews for 2,000 years. But by stymieing its readaptation to the needs of revived Jewish sovereignty in the Land of Israel, its most zealous adherents are doing it a disservice. Not only are they preventing it from fulfilling its original mission—i.e., providing Jewish solutions to the problems of a sovereign Jewish state—but they are also undervaluing the purpose of its exilic adaptation: The preservation of the Jewish people as a people. For if halacha continues to have nothing constructive to say about the burning issues confronting the modern Jewish people in its state, many Israelis may eventually become convinced that only by severing severing the state from its Judaism can it survive. Should that happen, of course, Israel will cease to be “Jewish” in any meaningful sense. And the disappearance of the world’s only Jewish state—even if the State of Israel were to physically survive—could prove as devastating for the Jewish people as the loss of its state was in 70 C.E.

Evelyn Gordon and Hadassah Levy, “Halacha’s Moment of Truth,” Azure, no. 43 (Winter 5771/2011), 82-83.

It remains to be seen what kind of political and cultural alliance can develop between (a) secularists who are more patient with religious liberals than the New Atheists are and (b) religious liberals themselves. And this is where the issue of giving religious ideas a “pass” has become especially difficult. Political liberals of secular orientation tend to give religious ideas a pass because they hope thereby to achieve issue-specific alliances with faithaffirming Americans on the environment, health care, foreign policy, taxation, and so on. Why mess things up by embarrassing the faithful and demanding that they repudiate more resoundingly their more conservative coreligionists? In the meantime, religious liberals are under constant attack from their conservative coreligionists for being on a slippery slope to secularism and are thus reluctant to break ranks with more conservative believers to an extent that secularists would find productive. Hence these religious liberals, too, prefer to seek issue-specific alliances with secular liberals and leave potentially divisive religious argumentation aside.

David A. Hollinger, “Religious Ideas: Should They Be Critically Engaged or Given a Pass?Representations #101 (2008), 151-152.

Halacha is the most characteristic and developed expression of Jewish thought. Although one cannot acquire a complete picture of the rabbinic mind without knowledge of midrash aggada, its rhetorical style, particularly its use of hyperbole, can make it an unreliable source of rabbinic theology. Jewish tradition has always expressed itself most rigorously through halacha. The rabbis of the Talmud are never more themselves than when they are operating in the realm of halacha.

Rabbi Ozer Glickman, “Think Local, Act Global: Tzedaka in a Global Society,” in Toward a Renewed Ethic of Jewish Philanthropy, ed. Yossi Prager (New York: Yeshiva University Press, 2010), 276.

We also need to realize that guilt doesn’t work anymore. The escalating rate of intermarriage and the Holocaust are themes that do not motivate today’s teen. Kids can tell when we are there for them and when we are there for ourselves. If we are here for ourselves because we are worried about the future of the Jewish community, then why would they buy it?

Marc Fein, “Reaching the iPod Generation: NCSY Regional Directors Share Strategies on Raising Children to Love Judaism,” ed. Bayla Sheva Brenner, Jewish Action (Summer 5771/2011), 29.