Printer Friendly
RABBINIC AUTHORITY
The tension that exists between rabbis and their flocks is legendary in Jewish history. Although Jews throughout the ages have always paid lip service to the concept of rabbinic authority and honor, in practice it has been a very mixed bag. From the time of Moshe onwards Jews have carped about their rabbinic leaders, sometimes legitimately, but mostly out of frustrations with other parts of their lives, having little or nothing to do with the rabbi. This situation and difficulty is usually compounded by the rabbi’s uncertainty as to how far his rabbinic authority really extends.
In the ideal world of his Talmudic training “all matters of the community are within his purview of authority.” But in the rough and tumble world of daily Jewish life, in the synagogue, bet din and community, it will soon become very clear to him how limited his authority really is. Those rabbis who will continue to insist upon their authority over “all matters” will, in my experience and observation, suffer a career of tension and dispute. Nevertheless, there are issues outside of the pure realm of halachic decisions that require the rabbi to stand firm and attempt to exercise leadership and authority in the synagogue and community.
Deciding what those issues truly are is the main rub in the rabbi’s career. Accepting rabbinic authority and following its mandates when it is obviously justified and well within the accepted and recognized purview is the mature responsibility of the members of the synagogue and the community. When both the rabbi and the synagogue/community are in sync regarding these situations an almost perfect world is achieved.
There are classic cases of disputes between rabbis and their communities that appear in Jewish history. Most of these cases deal with the Ashkenazic communities of Europe and America. It appears to me that the Sephardim are much more accepting of rabbinic authority than are their Ashkenazic brethren. This is probably an outgrowth of the greater community unity that exists among Sephardim, with much less fractionalization and break-offs from the larger community than is common in the Ashkenazic world.
In the eighteenth century in Vilna, during the lifetime and presence of the famed Gaon of Vilna, Rabbi Eliyahu Kramer, a bitter dispute occurred between the rabbi of the community, Rabbi Shmuel Avigdor, and its lay leadership. The issues that led up to this struggle were in retrospect minor and mainly personal. Nevertheless, Rabbi Shmuel Avigdor insisted upon asserting his rabbinic authority prerogatives and the community leaders refused to accede to his instructions and wishes.
In the ensuing escalation of the conflict, both sides issued bans of excommunication against each other and the entire situation spun well out of control. This struggle lasted for decades with the behavior and tactics employed by both sides deteriorating into the bizarre. After over thirty (!) years of dispute, the parties finally reconciled, at least on a pro forma basis. But, Rabbi Shmuel Avigdor died soon afterwards, exhausted by his battle to assert his rabbinic authority over a difficult and rebellious community undergoing the changes wrought by modernism and Haskala. The lay leadership took its revenge on Rabbi Shmuel Avigdor particularly and rabbinic authority generally by refusing to name another official rabbi in Vilna for the next one-hundred-seventy-years until forced to do so by the Polish authorities in the early 1920’s. As a further act of disgrace, they placed a large rock on the official seat of the rabbi in the main synagogue of Vilna, signifying the permanent rejection of rabbinic authority over them as far as they were concerned.
The rabbis in pre World War I Lithuania had a unique means of enforcing their rabbinic authority – they were allowed to slap an insulting offender in the face, usually forcing that person to have to leave town in shame. In a biography of Rav Avraham Kook a story is related that when he was a young rabbi in Boisk, Lithuania a young man publicly insulted a visiting Torah scholar during synagogue services. Rav Kook slapped that man who then left town in disgrace.
Decades later when Rav Kook visited the United States in the early 1920’s on behalf of the rebuilding of the ravaged yeshiva world of Eastern Europe, this man appeared to Rav Kook, kissed the rabbi’s hand and thanked him for the slap. He told him that because of that slap he immigrated to America and became a very wealthy and successful businessman. He then slyly offered his other cheek to Rav Kook and said: “Rabbi, you can slap me again whenever you wish.”
In our world today rabbinic authority stems not from slaps or pompous egoism but rather from great Torah knowledge, loving behavior, infinite rabbinic patience and a deep abiding faith in the people and God of Israel.
