The bombings yesterday at the Boston Marathon have yet to be assigned to a particular perpetrator, and are, in any case, an American tragedy, but it is not hard to wander into a Mid-Eastern spin without assigning blame to Al Qaeda and Islamic terrorism. My first thoughts seeing the scenes of pandemonium right after the blast were of the many such Israel scenes during the Intifada. I’m certain there have been similar scenes after bombings in Iraq and Afghanistan, though our media show those scenes less often. These are scenes of human fear and loss, brought to bear on individuals who are at no fault, by forces without a human concern, without empathy. To the enemy, as defined by the terrorist, no tenderness, only unbounded rage.
Many of you have seen, and many discussed, an article by Rabbi David Golinkin, Coservative Rabbi of Jerusalem (with roots right here in Columbia, MD) which purported to be a precis of his responsum permitting the eating of kitniyot (legumes and other non-chametz grain-like items that are traditionally not eaten by Ashkenazim, though they are eaten by many Sepharadim, such as rice, corn and beans). You have probably not seen a response posted to the CJ Voices website by Rabbi Paul Plotnik of Boca Raton, FL objecting to that halakhic position.
A word or two or more of contextualization is warranted.
Those of you who have been following Israel's recent election (1/22/13) will have noticed that it was expected to be a strong vote of confidence in Benjamin Netanyahu and strengthen the peace hawks and pro-settlement crowd. That is why Netanyahu called the elections -- he, too, expected such a result to strengthen his hand. The morning after everyone was surprised that a new centrist party, Yesh Atid, rose from scratch to become Israel's second largest party and most probably will have to be included in a coalition (coalition negotiations are ongoing -- no government has yet been formed). That means that although Netanyahu will remain the Prime Minister, his government will be forced by Yesh Atid to tack left rather than right. The issue that seems most strongly to have been moving Israeli voters was not settlements and the peace process, but the domestic political matter of army service for the ultra-Orthodox.
In this article Yossi Klein Halevi does not address that internal issue. I will look for an article to share that does that. But he does address the matter of the peace process and the manner in which the American Jewish debate lags far behind that in Israel. It is an arresting analysis.
THE ANXIETIES OF AMERICAN JEWS
By Yossi Klein Halevi 07/02/2013
A starting point of a healthy American Jewish conversation on Israel would be acknowledging the agony of our dilemma.
As I travel through North American Jewish communities, on a lecture tour about Israeli society in the aftermath of the election, I sometimes feel as though I am in a time warp.
Visiting an Orthodox community, I may find myself back in the 1970s and 1980s, before the first intifada convinced a majority of Israelis that the occupation is a mortal threat to the Jewish state; instead, right-wing American Jews will insist, Israel must continue building settlements and creating facts on the ground.
And when I visit a liberal community, I may find myself back in the 1990s, before the second intifada convinced that same majority of Israelis that a one-way peace process is likewise a mortal threat to the Jewish state; instead, left-wing American Jews will insist, a peace agreement is always within reach and just a matter of Israeli will.
And so I try to explain that most Israelis have internalized the Left-Right divide and agree with the Left’s anxiety over the occupation and with the Right’s anxiety over a delusional peace.
For most Israelis, I note, a Palestinian state is an existential necessity that would save us from the demographic threat to Israel as a Jewish and democratic state – and also an existential threat that could turn greater Tel Aviv into the next Sderot, the Israeli town near Gaza that has absorbed thousands of rocket attacks in the past decade.
Most polls confirm the centrist persona of the Israeli majority. Asked whether they support a two-state solution, upwards of 70 percent of Israelis respond affirmatively. Asked whether a two-state solution would bring peace, upwards of 80 percent say no. In other words: Israelis want to be doves, but reality forces them to be hawks.
The rise of Yair Lapid and his Yesh Atid party – appearing from nowhere to become the secondlargest party in the Knesset – is only the latest example of the longing of many Israelis for a centrist politics that embodies the realism of the Left about the occupation and of the Right about the peace process.
What most depresses me is that this insight – by now commonplace in Israeli discourse – comes as a revelation to many American Jews. The two most important Jewish communities in the world aren’t communicating.
During the recent election, a puzzled American Jewish journalist asked me: Why aren’t Israelis debating the collapse of the peace process? My response was: Most of us have already resolved the issue. If there were a credible partner able to contain Hamas and address our red-line issues, like the right of return, we would make the necessary territorial concessions.
In the absence of a credible peace partner, we’re moving on with our lives.
American Jews today are divided over two anxieties relating to Israel’s future. Like Israelis, many American Jews are keenly aware of the external dangers facing the Jewish state. In a Middle East that is imploding and turning increasingly fundamentalist, and with Iran approaching the nuclear threshold, there is a whiff of May 1967, the anxious weeks before the Six Day War, when threat pressed against Israel’s borders and war seemed imminent.
For many liberal American Jews, though, the focus of their Israel anxiety is on internal issues: the fraying of democracy, the seemingly irreversible occupation, the receding promise of peace.
A healthy people knows how to set its priorities of anxiety. It knows how to focus first on imminent threat. Yet a healthy people also knows that it cannot afford to allow even immediate threat to serve as pretext for denying long-term dangers. Jewish history speaks to our generation in the voice of two biblical commands to remember. The first voice commands us to remember that we were strangers in the land of Egypt, and the message of that command is: Don’t be brutal. The second voice commands us to remember how the tribe of Amalek attacked us without provocation while we were wandering in the desert, and the message of that command is: Don’t be naive.
The first command is the voice of Passover, of liberation; the second is the voice of Purim, commemorating our victory over the genocidal threat of Haman, a descendant of Amalek.
“Passover Jews” are motivated by empathy with the oppressed; “Purim Jews” are motivated by by alertness to threat. Both are essential; one without the other creates an unbalanced Jewish personality, a distortion of Jewish history and values.
One reason the Palestinian issue is so wrenching for Jews is that it is the point on which the two commands of our history converge: The stranger in our midst is represented by a national movement that wants to usurp us.
And so a starting point of a healthy American Jewish conversation on Israel would be acknowledging the agony of our dilemma.
Imagine an Orthodox rabbi, a supporter of the settlers in Hebron, delivering this sermon to his congregation: My friends, our community has sinned against Israel. For all our devotion to the Jewish state and our concern for its survival, we have failed to acknowledge the consequences to Israel’s soul of occupying another people against its will.
Now imagine a liberal rabbi, a supporter of J Street, telling his congregation: My friends, our community has sinned against Israel. For all our devotion to the Jewish state and our concern for its democratic values, we have failed to acknowledge the urgency of existential threat once again facing our people.
When American Jews internalize or at least acknowledge one another’s anxieties, the shrillness of much of American Jewish debate over Israel will give way to a more nuanced conversation.
The good news is that parts of the US Jewish community have begun that process.
Jews from Left and Right are quietly meeting across the country, trying to nurture a civil conversation on Israel.
But civility is only the starting point. The goal is to create multidimensional Jews, capable of holding more than one insight about Israeli reality. It is to translate the centrist Israeli ambivalence into American Jewish discourse.
Yossi Klein Halevi is a senior fellow of the Hartman Institute and a member of its iEngage Project. Go to iengage.org.il for more information.
“Simeon and Levi are brothers; instruments of violence are their methods”.
The title is the way Jacob starts his deathbed “blessing,” an inaptly named review of his sons and their characters. The rest gets no better. “May I not fall into their conspiracy… Cursed be their anger, for it is hard….” The summary is general, but the clear reference is to the tale told in parashat Vayishlach, wherein Jacob’s daughter Dinah is taken by Shechem without Jacob’s approval, a pact is negotiated whereby the whole male citizenry of his household is circumcised (an early conversion?) and the marriage is accepted, but her brothers Shimon and Levi take it upon themselves to slaughter the post-operative, relatively defenseless men in the name of their sister’s honor. Jacob: What have you done? You have ruined me! Shimon and Levi? Are we to let him treat our sister as a whore?
Some years ago a local rabbi and educator wrote a column for JT marveling at their passion and wistfully wondering whether he could be as forceful. I responded with a letter to the editor noting Jacob’s responses and refusing to see them as a positive model. The ethics of such a mass slaughter is, shall we say, problematic. But this is an old debate. I recently came across one part of that debate and thought it would be instructive to share it.
Rabbi Judah Loeb, the Maharal, of Prague, a rabbi best known for the Golem stories, but generally well known for his muscular philosophic defense of Judaism in the sixteenth century, wrote the following in his Biblical commentary Gur Aryeh:
It is difficult: Shechem may have sinned, but the whole town, how had they sinned such that they deserved to die? But it seems that this is not at all problematic, for they were two separate peoples, Israelites and Canaanites… and it is permissible to engage in battle when one nations sets out to make war against another.
One should not see this as a matter of justice, but as a matter of warfare, and never mind if the provocation suffices, nor are there any protections for non-combatants or prisoners of war. [To be fair to Maharal, the laws of warfare and of prisoners of war had not yet been set out, and mass slaughter as a normal stratagem of warfare was culturally common in his day. The same cannot be said of those who take such a position today.]
In light of the missile fire from Gaza, and terrorism in general, there is a strong pull to a Maharalian understanding that this is war, and all’s fair. They rain death upon us. What are we to do? Unilaterally disarm? But the best of Jewish thought wants to insist that one can engage in warfare while maintaining a concern for the distinctions between combatants and non-combatants, amid careful calibration of collateral damage, and thus is repulsed and indignant about a Palestinian penchant for hiding among non-combatants for their protection, knowing that we dare not shed our moral compunctions and, in Shimon and Levi fashion, carpet bomb the Gaza strip into oblivion.
The justice vs warfare debate has been in evidence as well in the American debates about drone strikes on terrorist targets, especially American citizens [Awlaki]. May we kill them by administrative decision without granting them appearance before a court of law?
Just a few years ago, I’ve mentioned this before, two West Bank rabbis published a book called “The King’s Law” (referring to God as King), which argued that to kill a gentile, even a non-combatant, is permissible if it is to save a Jew. They based themselves, in part, on this conclusion of Maharal that all’s fair in warfare between nations. Many voices were raised in Israel, both in the secular world and in the rabbinic world, against this conclusion. But one voice speaking in its defense was that of Israeli threatrical producer Menorah Chazani, who argued passionately that the detractors of this book “oddly failed to take into account the context, that we are at war with the worst murderers, people who shoot in cold blood at women and children.” But what she failed to take into account is that she was defending the notion that we should allow ourselves just such leeway because we are at war. And if we may murder them, for this is war, why may they not murder us equally?
That has been, too often, the calculus of warriors. It is not the calculus we seek to emplace. Passion may lead there, as it did Shimon and Levi, as it does Chazani, as it has and will yet lead those so swept away to cruel and unforgiveable acts. We need to reign in our passion, not give in to it, and find another better, more compassionate way, even in war. Better yet, as a prelude to peace.
We have spoken often about the Magen Tzedek Initiative that I am involved in, and the long silences between mentions have been a result of the slow progress of the project. We have moved now beyond the vetting of standards to begin the process of recruiting companies for the Magen Tzedek seal and begun the audit process of the first of those -- but that too has proven to be a slower process in the real world than in our imaginings. This recent article appeared in the Forward, and I think it fairly portrays where Magen Tzedek is and where it hopes to go. The Hebrew expressions is: kol hatchalot kashot -- all beginnings are difficult. If we didn't believe that was the case before, we certainly do now.
As far as I have been able to understand, the accusations are not of fraud, but rather that Hebrew National’s supervision was guilty of some policy choices and some mistakes that render the meat they were selling not kosher “to the most stringent Orthodox standards” which they profess – wherefor they are guilty of lying and fraud. There is also a worker mistreatment component. If that worked to scuttle Rubashkin, it might work again against Hebrew National.
My comment: wild claims remain wild claims until substantiated.
Rabbi Ralbag at HN has legitimate credentials and has shown himself serious. He has taken on the task of skating as close to the edge of leniency as he possibly can to fit the needs of a mass market operation. Some resent him for it. Did he cross a line? Cannot say -- don't have the inside track. But the claims of the lawsuit (in so far as I have read a part) seem very general and sketchy -- and make the claim that his
statement that the food is kosher "to the most stringent Orthodox standards" is a lie. Well it is certainly hyperbole, since "the most stringent" can certainly be way out there and he depends on some more lenient rulings. His meat is not glatt. Most other certifiers will only certify glatt. That is an unnecessary stringency, but one many hold by. He permits post-shechita stunning (details below) which most do not.
But if the claim is that his rulings are all recognized even by the most stringent, that is probably true.
How much valence you wish to give charges (anonymous so far, I have not been able to find who is bringing this suit) until they have been adjudicated is clearly a decision that one need to make in terms of one’s own consumption. The halakhah recognized things as remaining within their prior presumed status (re HN – kosher, unless you never accepted Ralbag’s supervision, which is the case in the Ner
Israel crowd) until it is proven otherwise.
Technical appendix re post-shechita stunning.
Halakhah does not permit eating animals that died on their own or are in the process of dying on their own except for by natural aging (we are all in the process of dying on our own it that is factored in). Thus the normal process of shechitah includes a check of the slaughtered animals lungs (considered tell-tale like a mine canary) to determine if the animal was diseased. If it was afflicted by a fatal disease process, it is declared tref, despite having been properly slaughtered. That is where the difference between glatt kosher and regular lies. Regular meat undergoes certain lung checks before being declared kosher, and certain signs of disease are disregarded as “non-fatal”. Glatt meat undergoes more thorough checking, so it takes a bit longer, and, a more significant difference, more low level signs of disease are rejected, just to be sure. Both of these features lead to the higher price of glatt meat over standard. It
has, however, become the new normal in the Orthodox community despite its higher price and most recognized hashgachot will only certify glatt.
Animal rights groups are concerned with animal pain. At the extreme they are pro-vegetarian and would ban eating meat. Since that is an unlikely campaign, they have made their greatest strides in seeking to lessen the pain and suffering of animals being used by industry (for meat, milk, eggs). Re the way they are raised, that has been the focus of campaigns against factory farms, feed lots, and dense-packed
crated chicken raising. Re meat animals, that has informed the campaigns against hoisting and shackling for slaughter, and has brought a universal demand for stunning an animal before slaughter so that it is insensible to the pain.
The kosher slaughter industry has stood against the campaigns to require stunning, arguing, I believe correctly, that either common form of stunning (electrical, think taser, or by what is called a captive bolt gun – a gun which fires a blunt iron rod against the animals temples to knock it out) has the potential effect of beginning a process by which the animal would die (if you didn’t, of course, slaughter it just
seconds later), thereby rendering it unkosher despite proper shechitah. In “stunning” the animal’s rights groups have found an effective humanitarian tool with which to pursue their anti-shechitah, anti-halal slaughter programs. In much of Europe kosher slaughter is now banned, because they require pre- slaughter stunning.
In the course of all this it was discovered that stunning has the collateral effect of immediately reducing the blood-pumping mechanism, making the slaughter process a little less bloody and thereby allowing the speeding up of the factory line. Higher production, an industrialist’s holy grail. But on kosher lines the old messier situation prevailed. Some experimentation discovered that stunning just moments after
the throat cut also reduces what is called “blood splatter.” Not as much as pre-shechitah stunning, but enough to matter. The industry then applied to their kosher supervisers to determine if this would be possible, and the animal’s rights groups signed on, arguing, improbably, that the throat cut may leave the animal in pain, so the immediate stunning after would quickly put it out of its misery. The Orthodox chief rabbinate of New Zealand, under pressure from its government and trying to stave off the attempts to ban kosher slaugher altogether by requiring pre-slaughter stunning, ruled several years ago that since, according to the understanding of halakhah, the animal is immediately accounted dead upon shechitah, post-slaughter stunning could be permitted. (Again, I think this case is solid). Rabbi Ralbag, facing less existential threats to the viability of shechitah, has nonetheless adopted that policy for the benefit of the industrial line at Hebrew National. (As I said, he is prepared to skate close to the line in order to produce kosher meat available at a reasonable price in the mass market). Needless to say, those who prefer extra stringency and expensive glatt, and argue that nothing that was not done by
our ancestors can possibly be kosher enough, reject that position.
Aren’t you glad you read this.
Haven’t written in a while, and thought I ought to update you on a few results of the Conservative Committee of Jewish Law and Standards which met last week.
One of the noteworthy results of that meeting was the approval of a pair of models of same-sex marriage / commitment ceremonies by the CJLS. Five and a half years ago we approved, by a tie vote, that homosexuals should have a dignified public place in the Jewish community while respecting the Biblical prohibition against male sexual union (Leviticus 18:22). The authors (myself, Rabbi Elliot Dorff, rector of the American Jewish University in LA and Rabbi Daniel Nevins, Dean of the Rabbinical School at the Jewish Theological Seminary in NY) did not, however, append a liturgical appendix specifying the particular ceremonies we might suggest. Rather, we indicated in a short paragraph the elements that might be included, and, more to the point, that these ceremonies should be joyous and significant, but not make the claim that they were legally the same as the traditional Jewish marriage bond, the bond of kiddushin.
At that time we wrote as follows,
Surely it is better for gay and lesbian Jews to establish monogamous relationships with other Jews and thereby to establish stable Jewish households. Surely promiscuity ought to be no more acceptable among homosexuals than it is among heterosexuals. Surely the establishment of family units is central to the preservation of human dignity. For all of these reasons, we favor the establishment of committed and loving relationships for gay and lesbian Jews. The celebration of such a union is appropriate with blessings over wine and sheheheyanu, with psalms and other readings to be developed by local authorities. Yet can these relationships be recognized under the rubric of Jewish kiddushin (marriage)? Does their dissolution require a ritual of gerushin (divorce)? What format and force would such rituals require? These are complicated and controversial questions that deserve a separate study. We have no objection to informal rituals of celebration for gay couples, including the elements mentioned above, but we are not able in this responsum to address the many halakhic questions surrounding gay marriage. Our paper does not provide for rituals of kiddushin for gay and lesbian couples.
We are not prepared at this juncture to rule upon the halakhic status of gay and lesbian relationships. To do so would require establishing an entirely new institution in Jewish law that treats not only the ceremonies and legal instruments appropriate for creating homosexual unions but also the norms for the dissolution of such unions. This responsum does not provide kiddushin for same-sex couples. Nonetheless, we consider stable, committed, Jewish relationships to be as necessary and beneﬁcial for homosexuals and their families as they are for heterosexuals. Promiscuity is not acceptable for either homosexual or heterosexual relationships. The celebration of such a union is appropriate.
Not surprisingly, the Rabbinical Assembly immediately appointed a liturgical committee to consider the question of the appropriate form of such ceremonies. Unfortunately, after three years of work that committee threw up its hands, unable to reach an agreement, and in time the Rabbinical Assembly came back to the three authors of the original paper with the request that we try our hands. Initially,
it should be said that we were not anxious to do this. But as months passed, as NY State approved same-sex marriage, as Maryland may be on the verge of doing, more pressure was coming to bear from colleagues in the field who did not want to create their own liturgy, but wanted some structure that they might adapt, which would be recognized. And so we went to work reviewing what had been done by individual rabbis in the intervening years, not in order to create a definitive ceremony (we
presented two), but rather a model, or template, that could be used by our colleagues; and we sought the approval of CJLS so that these models bore some more legitimacy than Elliot, Danny and I could give them ourselves.
There were two big problems that confronted us at the outset. What constituted the kiddushin, which we had made clear that we were seeking to avoid; and in other regards, how similar to the well-known Jewish wedding ceremony did we want this to be? Kiddushin, we readily agreed, was a form of special acquisition of the bride by the groom, represented by the husband’s declaration when giving the ring –
“You are consecrated to me according to the laws of Moses and Israel.” While most in the movement have moved to double ring ceremonies, the bride invariably responds to the groom’s legal declaration with some floral formula. Ours would be a more egalitarian covenant. There would be a mutual statement, not a one-sided declaration. Something, perhaps, that they might say together.
But when it came to our vision of the ceremony, Rabbi Nevins and I started from polar opposite positions. Rabbi Nevins sought to create a ceremony as much like the traditional huppah ceremony as possible, changing language and the crucial declaration, but otherwise looking to the eye of the beholder as a traditional wedding ceremony. And I argued that the ceremony should be altogether different, so that it not feel like kiddushin-lite, but feel like its own entity. When we sounded out our
colleagues, we found that that split could be found there too. Some colleagues preferred to make a same-sex ceremony resemble the heterosexual one, and others bristled at that suggestion. And so we presented two models, for each rabbi to choose as he or she preferred – one with huppah and seven blessings (sheva b’rakhot) and the other without huppah, using the tallit as its embracing symbol, and
with three brakhot to celebrate the union. At the heart of each we retained rings (we felt, a symbol without which the union would feel incomplete), with a mutual request, “Be my partner…” and a joint prayer.
In the process we came to understand that there are three functioning Jewish legal models of binding agreement: kiddushin (marriage), to be terminated by get (divorce); neder (oath) wherein each party takes a solemn vow, to be terminated by convening a Bet Din (a rabbinic court) to annul the vows; and shutafut (partnership) formed by mutual agreement and terminated by either part by a personal statement to that effect. The strongest of those, kiddushin, is one sided and creates the problem of
aguna (the chained woman who cannot remarry) when a husband refuses grant a get. A same-sex relationship needed to be mutual, for neither party is a dominant party. And we rejected the neder form which required the intervention of a Bet Din. Our models were both based on partnership, with a Covenant of Loving Partners document, parallel to the ketubah, and a document of dissolution, should
that become necessary, to be filed in a national RA data base by either or both parties.
We hope that our colleagues will feel comfortable using these models, as is, or as a basis from which to embellishment. It took several years to get to this point.
We are acutely aware that the civil question of marriage equality is very much roiled at this moment. We sought, insofar as anything we say has weight, to insulate these ceremonies from any implication with regard to state law. We wrote:
Some American states and foreign countries have recognized same-sex civil unions or domestic partnerships but reserved the language of marriage for heterosexual couples. Others have moved to full equalization of legal status and terminology for gay couples, but many states have refused all such recognition. The status of this relationship in civil law will depend upon the jurisdiction within which the ceremony occurs and the reciprocal recognition rules in the state where the couple resides. Performance of the Jewish wedding ceremony is not to be considered a civil marriage in those jurisdictions which prohibit same-sex marriage.
It will be up to individual colleagues to determine whether they can and wish to participate in such a ceremony.
[You can find this responsum at www.rabbinicalassembly.org > Jewish Law > CJLS > EvenHaEzer > Interpersonal Relations (teshuvot listed by date, this resides as an appendix to the responsum from 2006)]
[An aside: Chevrei Tzedek has been approached by a coalition favoring marriage equality in the state of Maryland which was passed by the legislature pending a popular referendum in November. To date, no state that has held a popular vote on granting this particular minority right has voted to approve. There is some hope that Maryland may be the leader. They would like the congregation, as a religious
assembly, to take a stand in favor of marriage equality and to use the congregation as a base of mobilization. (Obviously, this is a broader effort throughout the state to enlist faith communities in this effort). I will be referring the issue to the new mazkirut – but take this opportunity to solicit your opinion on whether we should be involved in the effort.]
In 1950 the Conservative Movement engaged in the great debate about driving and electricity use on Shabbat. We are all familiar with the result – some drive and some do not, some use electricity and some do not. Rabbi Arthur H. Neulander wrote:
Those who disapprove the use of electricity on Shabbat base themselves of the Biblical prohibition of (Exodus 35:3) “Do not burn flames in all your settlements on the Sabbath day.”
They subsume electricity under the category of fire. We find this identification between electricity and fire to be wrong both on Halakhic and scientific grounds.
He argued that fire was characterized by combustion and flame, which was not true of electricity. Rabbis Morris Adler, Jacob Agus (Debbie’s father of blessed memory) and Theodore Friedman pronounced a firm conclusion:
In the spirit of a living and developing Halachah responsive to the changing needs of our people, we declare it to be permitted to use electric lights on the Sabbath for the purpose of enhancing the enjoyment of the Sabbath, or reducing personal discomfort or of helping in the performance of a mitzvah.
Rabbi Neulander went on to elaborate:
It is self event that this permission applies only to such uses as do not involve work prohibited on the Sabbath. Thus we may permit turning on electric lights, telephoning, refrigeration, using a radio and television (! In 1950 !). But we cannot countenance the use of electricity for work prohibited on the Sabbath, such as cooking and baking, shaving, using the washing machine or an electric iron. The prohibition is here derived not from the use of electricity but from the nature of the work itself.
But times and the uses of electricity and electronics have developed enormously these past sixty plus years. At this meeting Rabbi Daniel Nevins presented a magnificent responsum elucidating the nature of electricity and extending Rabbi Neulander’s understanding to the many new machines and situations that we face, from compact fluorescent bulbs and LEDs versus the incandescent bulbs of
Rabbi Neulander’s day, to computers, e-readers, iphones, magnetic strips and motion detectors. A long and intricate paper, he appended a very useful chart of the status of varying appliances to the end of his paper which is worth considering.
You can find his paper at www.rabbinicalassembly.org > Jewish Law > CJLS > Orah Hayim > Shabbat.
I was, as you might have guessed, a hold out. I remain one of those opposed to the use of electricity on Shabbat based on the simple argument mentioned by Rabbi Neulander. I ask, what did the Torah expect it was prohibiting when it commanded, ““Do not burn flames in all your settlements on the Sabbath day.” Why did it think you would make a flame? It seems self evident to me that a flame was intended
to accomplish three things – to give heat, to give light and to cook. In our day electricity accomplishes each of those purposes. While we are not like the Karaites, sitting in the cold and dark, for each of these functions Judaism has found ways to do before Shabbat what would provide sufficient comfort on Shabbat. In Rabbi Nevins’ own analysis, “If the physical mechanism is different from that of the
primary prohibition, but the purpose and result are identical, then an activity is considered forbidden as a derivative of the primary category.” To me that seemed to make my case. But he insisted that the Torah’s prohibition rested in flame and combustion, not the subsidiary results, and that, therefore, electricity did not, in fact, cause the prohibited results.
But there was much in the paper about the nature of intention and accidental or unintended results that do not rise to the level of Shabbat prohibition, or that do but may be waived on account of various forms of necessity, with which I agree. And without a doubt it was a prodigious feat of learning and explication. Bearing in mind my caveat (for those who are of like mind), I highly recommend this heavy