‘Developing a Torah Personality’ may challenge you

Developing a Torah Personality by Avraham Bogopulsky, Mosaica Press, 2016.ISBN 9781937-887773, 192 pages, including index of Torah personalities.

By Donald H. Harrison

Donald H. Harrison

SAN DIEGO – Rabbi Avraham Bogopulsky is spiritual leader of Beth Jacob Congregation, the oldest Orthodox Jewish institution in San Diego County.  In this book of “insights, anecdotes and wisdom for life,” he views an everyday scene or occurrence, relates it to Torah, and then expands upon the theme in seven thought-provoking chapters, respectively labeled: “time,” “habits,” “attitude,” “chesed,” “money,” “community,” and “growth.”

Whoever reads this book is likely to find information and opinions of direct relevance to his or her life, and perhaps find within its pages a challenge to previously held beliefs.

Developing a Torah Personality starts with words of praise for Bogopulsky from other rabbis – at least one of whose words may surprise San Diegans.  Rabbi Leibel Reznick of Monsey, New York, described Bogopulsky as “a knowing guide, blazing the trail through the wilds of Jewish America and the path leading to the World to Come.”

“The wilds of Jewish America?” – What image of San Diego capsulizes Rabbi Reznick’s impressions of our city?  I wondered if he imagined us with holsters strapped to our waists, ready to draw our six-shooters at a moment’s provocation.  Or perhaps, I thought, maybe he believes that we step out of our homes at our peril, never knowing if a thundering herd of bison may suddenly come over the horizon and trample us in their stampede.

Rabbi Bogopulsky, in the chapter on community, relates how in San Diego it is not uncommon for people to see the black velvet yarmulke on his head and then to ask him if he is Jewish.  “I proudly reply yes,” he writes.  “My response is usually followed by statements such as, ‘I love the Jewish people,’ ‘I’ve been to Israel,’ ‘I support Israel,’ ‘I have Jewish friends,’ ‘I love kosher food,’ etc.”

At JFK Airport in New York, on the other hand, he noticed that there were many easily identifiable Jews, but no one approached them or him with such questions.  For Jews living “out-of-town,” he went on to say, “an extra degree of responsibility falls on our shoulders to represent the Jewish people and to make sure we are on our best behavior in following the Torah and, of course, secular law as good, law-abiding citizens.”  Perhaps this is what Rabbi Reznick was thinking about in pondering the “wilds of Jewish America.”

In the section on “attitude,” Rabbi Bogopulsky observes that no one perfectly follows every commandment found in the Torah nor every elaboration that might be found in rabbinic law.  “Individuals who may lack steadfastness in some areas actually show great promise in others,” he wrote.  “Each of us has our own approach to Avodas HaShem—service to God—and our journey to self-improvement.  Some may be more intellectual, others may be more hands-on.  A handy person is blessed with a kindness to do chesed (kindness) for individuals who may not be able to afford a professional handyman. The intellectual, on the other hand, can tutor someone and help him in his learning or he can learn more in the merit of someone.  Some approach their avodah in a more flamboyant way, needing to do things in front of many people, perhaps the guy or girl who is always in the center circle at a wedding.  Others may be more reserved and take a quieter path, perhaps visiting the elderly and the infirm.  Each type is precious in his own way.  Ultimately, an individual cannot expect to fulfill all the mitzvos all the time and in the best way.  That we do as a group – as a people.”

Later in the section on “chesed,” the rabbi suggests that whatever our approach or inclination may be   we probably can do better.  He recalled an occasion that he was driving in the rain and went right past a person sitting on a curb who had no umbrella or rain clothes. “Only later did it dawn on me that I missed a golden opportunity to somehow help that person.  I could have given him my umbrella, given him a ride, or even gone a little out of my way and purchased an umbrella for him.  I was really bothered by my lack of perception …”

Learning from this, he said, twice within a subsequent month, he helped to push and steer stalled cars from the middle of the road. “Each of us is trying to be a little better, one step at a time,” he teaches.  “We all have failures and successes.  We all have the ability to perform these random acts of kindness that will help others in their time of need and make a person feel good about helping.”

My wife Nancy and I worship at a Conservative congregation, not at an Orthodox one like Rabbi Bogopulsky’s, and our kashrut observance is not rigorous.  Yes, we refrain from eating pork products and shellfish, and we avoid mixing meat and dairy.  However, we’ve developed some of our own rules.  For example, knowing that the prohibition against mixing meat and milk comes from Exodus 23:19 that says “you shall not cook a kid in the milk of its mother,” we have concluded that the Torah itself does not prohibit mixing chicken and dairy, as a chicken does not give milk.

So, in our frame of reference, there is no reason to refrain from eating chicken parmesan, which of course is made with cheese.  The prohibition against eating chicken and cheese together is rabbinic, not from Torah.  The rabbis have a concept called “building a fence around the Torah.”  In this case, the concept teaches that not only do you want to scrupulously avoid eating meat and dairy, you want to avoid anything that even looks like eating meat and dairy.

Such a departure as ours from normative kashrut practices is frowned upon by the rabbi.  As Rabbi Bogopulsky put it in his chapter on “community”:  “How often in life do we meet people who feel that they can do things differently from the rest of society? It is complete arrogance even to perform mitzvos [commandments] when they are clearly done outside the normative Halachah [Jewish law.]   What gives an individual the right to decide that in his opinion, he thinks the law, the halachah, should be such and such, even though there is an accepted approach according to the Shulchan Aruch.  Even if there is an opinion that supports this outside practice, it is nevertheless a sign of haughtiness and will not last.”

Of course, I respect Rabbi Bogopulsky’s opinion, and I sincerely believe that if I had grown up Orthodox, I might hew to that opinion as closely as possible.  However, my Jewish practice has been informed mostly by the Reform and Conservative movements, the former of which has abandoned kosher laws and the latter of which seems to be less strict in its observance of kashrut.  I know several Conservative rabbis, for example, who will eat vegetarian meals at non-kosher restaurants on the theory that their pareve meals are within the spirit of halacha, if not to the letter of it.

I once asked the distinguished Chabad rabbi, Yehuda Krinsky, to please explain why Chabad emissaries at such public places as airports find Jews and ask them to take just a minute to put on tefillin and to recite the appropriate prayer.  He responded with the maxim that “one mitzvah will lead to another.”  A non-observant Jew who performs the simple act of putting on tefillin may feel motivated to do another mitzvah – perhaps to light Shabbat candles, or pronounce a blessing over wine – and gradually increase his level of practice.

It is debatable whether such Jews will or not become more observant, but the concept suggests that there is a sliding scale of Jewish practice along which people align themselves during different parts of their lives.

I hope my view about eating chicken parmesan is not an arrogant one.  As I understand the passage in question, the Torah is concerned that we show respect for the continuity of life.  Just as Torah teaches that we should shoo away a mother bird before we take eggs from the nest, so too should we not subject a mother cow to the psychological pain of her life-giving milk being used to prepare her dead child for human consumption.  Such concern for a parent, I would imagine, also suggests that we should consider refraining from eating chicken and eggs at the same time.

I’m glad I read Rabbi Bogopulsky’s book, and I urge my fellow non-Orthodox Jews to do likewise.  Even if you don’t agree with everything he writes, you will be challenged to think about some of your practices, or perhaps, even, to rethink them.

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Donald H. Harrison is editor of San Diego Jewish World.  He may be contacted via donald.harrison@sdjewishworld.com