Gil Everyone’s entitled to their personal opinion but people who fetishize exile do not and can not represent the Jewish nation, in any serious context.
Whether in the faculty of Harvard, the administration of the Rabbanut, the opinion pages of major media outlets, or wherever else Jewish representation matters and has meaningful consequences for Jewish autonomy.
It occurred to me why I may prefer preaching to progressives more than conservatives. Progressives generally don’t view tradition as obliging or a source of authority. Convincing them of the value of our traditional institutions and ways is comparatively harder; and when they are convinced, their appreciation for the beauty and benefit of our traditional institutions and ways is comparatively deeper.
It’s one thing to accept tradition because that’s your default position – it’s another to accept your place in tradition because you see the value, benefit, and beauty in it.
When people think “Halakhic State” they usually think Haredistan or settler apartheid state.
How Ever:
If we had a revived National Court (“sanhedrin”), it probably would have authorized the initial strikes against Hamas after Oct 7 as a necessary and legitimate war of self-defense, and required everyone, including Haredim, to serve in the military – but then at some point it would probably have prohibited the continuation of the war with the same tactics, without a clear strategy of self-defense and victory.
There’s something to be said for collectively choosing to be led by a large, diverse body of our nation’s wisest people – and there’s a reason the visibly-religious current leadership does not actively work towards reviving the National Court.
🧐
The Covenant of Fragments: Towards a Jewish Theology of Religions
Introduction
The religious history of humanity is marked by astonishing diversity. Across continents, cultures, and centuries, peoples have devised systems of law, worship, myth, and wisdom to grapple with the great questions: mortality, suffering, justice, transcendence. The world’s religions vary: some aspire to universal dominion, others remain bound to particular peoples and lands; some emphasize law, others wisdom, others compassion, others ritual.
Judaism’s claim is that all of these belong, in one way or another, within the horizon of the berith Noah—the covenant established with Noah after the flood (Genesis 9:1–17) and reaffirmed at Sinai. In rabbinic teaching, this covenant entails seven commandments binding upon all humanity: justice, prohibition of idolatry, blasphemy, murder, theft, sexual immorality, and cruelty to animals (Sanhedrin 56a–57a). Maimonides codifies these as the minimal universal law (Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Melakhim 9–10).
This covenant is universal but not homogenizing. It binds every people under God, yet does not erase their distinctions. Israel is bound to 613 commandments; the nations to seven. As the Talmud says, “The righteous of the nations have a share in the world to come” (Sanhedrin 105a). Thus the Noahide covenant underwrites pluralism: not only between Israel and the nations, but among the nations themselves. Every people may develop its own culture, law, and wisdom, provided the universal covenantal floor of justice and reverence is upheld.
From this standpoint, Judaism can articulate a theology of religions: the religions of humanity are fragments of the covenant. They testify to real insights—universality, cosmic order, compassion, community—but in partial form. Judaism honors these fragments, answers their counterclaims, and situates them within the whole.
The Witness of Universality
Christianity and Islam testify that God’s truth is not tribal but for all humanity. Christianity universalized the biblical God through the Church; Islam proclaimed the Qur’an as God’s final word, binding all people to submission (islām). Both developed complex legal systems—canon law and shari‘a—that ordered vast civilizations.
However, they insist that unity requires uniformity. If God is one, should not humanity be one faith, one church, one umma? Israel’s particularity is either absorbed (as in Christian supersession) or abrogated (as in Islamic submission).
The Noahide covenant affirms universality while sustaining distinction. At Sinai, Israel was bound by 613 commandments, the nations by seven. Both stand under God, but not under identical law. This is not relativism but structured pluralism. As Maimonides wrote, the Noahide laws “were commanded to Adam, and renewed through Noah… and Moshe was commanded from Sinai to compel all the world to accept them” (Hilkhot Melakhim 9:1). Christianity and Islam preserve the prophetic address of God to humanity, but they flatten the plurality that covenant requires. The Noahide covenant honors their universal reach while reminding them that true universality is plural, not uniform.
The Witness of Cosmic Order
Other Asian traditions testify to cosmic order. Hinduism speaks of dharma, Taoism of the Tao, Confucianism of li—the law of being, the rhythm of nature, the propriety of society. These traditions perceive the world itself as ordered and human conduct as accountable to that order.
Therefore, they might say: if the cosmos itself is law, why add covenant? Why not rest in alignment with dharma or Tao, without reference to revelation?
Cosmic order is indeed real, but absent covenantal accountability it risks ossification. Dharma has legitimated caste hierarchies that deny justice. Li and Tao can sanctify harmony at the expense of the vulnerable. The Noahide covenant affirms the intuition that creation is ordered, but insists that order be measured by justice. It honors the wisdom of Asia while binding it to the Creator’s command that all human beings stand equal before Him.
The Witness of Compassion and Liberation
Buddhism—and in another register Stoicism and similar philosophies—testifies to discipline and compassion. Buddhism diagnoses suffering (dukkha) and prescribes the Eightfold Path: right conduct, right speech, right mindfulness. It cultivates compassion (karuṇā) and equanimity. Stoicism, in its way, teaches freedom from passion and rational acceptance of fate. These traditions elevate human ethical discipline to remarkable heights.
They argue that compassion does not require command. Why bind liberation to law when it can be cultivated through practice and wisdom?
However, compassion without covenant risks drifting into sentiment or detachment. It can cultivate self-perfection while neglecting justice for others. The Noahide covenant honors the Buddhist and Stoic discipline of compassion but binds it to command: “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed” (Genesis 9:6). Law ensures that compassion is not merely personal discipline but universal responsibility.
The Witness of Spirit and Community
Indigenous religions testify to the sacredness of land, ancestors, and community. African religions, Native American traditions, Shinto—all perceive the world as relational, charged with spirit, woven through with obligations across generations. They embody horizontality and belonging.
They argue that local spirit suffices. Why impose universality when meaning is given in clan, ancestor, and land?
Local bonds are sacred, but fragment humanity if left alone. Worse, intermediaries—spirits, ancestors, idols—can displace the One Creator. The Noahide covenant affirms the communal intuition but lifts it into universality: one Creator, one human family, one law of justice. In this way, indigenous traditions are dignified as fragments of covenantal truth, not dismissed as error.
The Witness of the Whole
Judaism integrates the fragments. It embodies:
– Law: Israel bound by 613, nations by 7.
– History: Covenant revealed in time, through Sinai and exile.
– Cosmos: Torah as chokhma, “the Lord by wisdom founded the earth” (Proverbs 3:19).
– Spirit: Prophecy as divine-human dialogue.
Judaism’s role is not to abolish the wisdom of nations but to gather it. Each fragment—universality, cosmic order, compassion, community—is honored as testimony, but shown its measure in covenant.
Dialogic Gnosis and Self-Perfection
Prophecy is the hinge. Its essential contribution to religion is dialogic gnosis: the encounter in which the human intellect and imagination are addressed by God and respond. Prophecy is not passive reception but dialogue, fusing divine address with human comprehension. As Maimonides describes, prophecy is the perfection of the intellect and imagination elevated by divine overflow (shefaʿ elohi) (Guide of the Perplexed II:36–48).
Religion, conversely, contributes to prophecy by cultivating intellectual and psychological self-perfection. The prophet does not emerge in a vacuum. Maimonides insists that a prophet must be wise, morally disciplined, and of sound mind (Yesodei ha-Torah 7:1). Religion supplies the ethical, intellectual, and communal structures that prepare the soul for prophecy.
Thus prophecy and religion form a reciprocity:
– Religion prepares the human for prophecy.
– Prophecy raises religion into divine dialogue.
This framework clarifies the role of other religions. Put reductively for the sake of brief illustration:
– Christianity and Islam: preserve prophetic address but risk neglecting the human work of self-perfection in interpreting it.
– Hinduism, Taoism, Confucianism: cultivate self-perfection but often without dialogic gnosis.
– Buddhism and Stoicism: refine discipline but risk dissolving dialogue into silence.
– Indigenous systems: glimpse relational gnosis but without intellectual refinement to discern true prophecy.
The Noahide covenant insists on both poles: self-perfection and dialogic gnosis, justice and wisdom, community and address.
Conclusion
Every religion testifies. Christianity and Islam to universality; Hinduism, Taoism, Confucianism to cosmic order; Buddhism and Stoicism to compassion and discipline; indigenous systems to community and spirit. Judaism testifies to the whole: the covenant that integrates them all.
The Noahide covenant, reaffirmed at Sinai, honors the wisdom of the nations while binding them to justice and the Creator. It is universal without erasing difference. It dignifies fragments without letting them drift into distortion. And prophecy, understood as dialogic gnosis grounded in self-perfection, explains why covenant alone integrates the fragments: God addresses, humanity prepares, dialogue is sustained, and justice is secured.
Thus Judaism’s theology of religions is neither exclusivist nor relativist. It is covenantal. All peoples are included, none erased, each measured. In this way, the world’s religions are not rivals but testimonies—fragments which, gathered under the Noahide covenant, form a harmony pointing toward the wholeness of God’s purpose in creation and history.
Very happy to see how many people are sharing the Orthodox rabbinic letter on Gaza and the state of religious Zionism today. Not surprised by the knee-jerk backlash they’re all facing in the comments …. But the public sharing itself is important.
People should be confident in the stance that religious Judaism does not recognize moral default.
Honestly, with the world 🌍 the way it is right now – with our country 🇮🇱 the way it is right now – bringing a child into it is a declaration of emuna:
“Ribbono shelaOlam! Your world is broken and we did not break it! But we believe! – that it can be fixed, it can be healed, it can be made whole again! That neither the world nor we are condemned to brokenness! That we each can play the part You have given us in redeeming ourselves and in redeeming this world! That with each soul we bring into this world together with You – this world is brought one step closer to its redemption and perfection!”
Yes, with the exclamation points. 😉
All my posts are public these days.
Someone recently left a bizarre comment on one of my posts about halakha and sexual orientation, and proceeded to try and tag a third party into the comment thread, not for clarification of a law or a text but evidently for the purposes of fomenting argument, discord, and division.
I told the tagger they’re a sick, twisted pervert and that they should move on.
Why?
Because looking to increase discord in Am Yisrael for the personal thrill of seeing conflict arise, is sick, twisted, and perverse.
It’s an ego game.
I have discussions with people who disagree with me in good faith, all day long. In fact, I seek them out from among my qualified acquaintances because they help me explore the ramifications of ideas I’m considering.
But don’t @ me with your neurotic prejudice disguised as religious argument.
Law, text, science, and reason: that’s the game I play.
Stay Frosty Friends 😎
After considering recent literature reviews of peer-reviewed studies, my understanding that the consensus of the best scientific findings available regarding sexual orientation is that it is a combination of attraction and behavior, and is biologically-based with psychological next-order correspondences, stimuli, and effects, has been reinforced.
This does not mean much regarding a specific biblically-prohibited act (whose definition, I would note, is subject to the formulation of a national court). But regarding the associated rabbinic prohibitions, this may mean that a gay man may be exempt from those which cause him distress due to their conflict with his specific biological and psychological needs.
In this way (and I hope this is not inadvertently offensive to my gay friends – if it is, I will re-evaluate the approach), a gay Jewish man may find himself in a legal situation akin to that of an istanis, the most famous case of which is Rabban Gamliel himself, who exempted himself from rabbinic prohibitions related to mourning due to their conflict with his biological-psychological needs.
I hope to flesh this out with a more thorough treatment of the classical sources regarding both the rabbinic prohibitions relevant to gay men and the legal definition, concept, and status of the istanis, but I just wanted to share some thoughts that have coalesced in the wake of several conversations that ensued from my post about gay rabbis (which itself was only brought about by the divine providence of two things being juxtaposed in my experience last week).
30 days.
Either come up with a plan for defeating Hamas and rescuing the hostages, or end the war.
Either way, let in as much food, medicine, and baby supplies now, as the combined logistical might of the Israeli military can facilitate.
But it’s been almost two years.
So.
30 days.
I’m honestly confused by the opposition to gay rabbis.
To my limited knowledge as someone who is not gay, it would seem obvious that being gay – or even being in a gay marriage – does not necessarily mean that one does something that is clearly prohibited by our law (at the present time).
Where is the presumption of good faith? Why don’t we extend it to a gay rabbi?
By the same token, being gay is just one aspect of someone’s sexuality that even while it informs many parts of their life certainly doesn’t define the totality of who they are as a person.
Why reduce a gay rabbi to their sexuality? Do we do that with non-gay rabbis? Why can’t a gay rabbi be viewed in the same light that acknowledges their full being and behavior, as their hetero colleagues?
It just seems like a double-standard that, while it can play to popular interpretations of certain texts, traditions, and laws, ultimately fails to explain why some people should be judged differently than others.
As a (neo 😬)maimonidean, I’m just really unpersuaded by the opposition.