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Mishpacha Magazine: Ballpark Solutions
By Yisroel Besser for Mishpacha Magazine
It’s likely that if you were in shul for Seudah Shlishis last week, it was the topic of conversation around the table. Possibly, as you shared challah and gefilte fish, someone said, “What’s up with this thing at Citi Field?”Behind the hype and the banners surrounding the Citi Field event (the “Internet Crisis Event”) is the thoughtful, soft-spoken mechanech who brought the Zilberman educational derech to American shores before becoming a full-time consultant helping parents navigate the confusing world of advanced technology so familiar to their savvy children. Rabbi Nechemiah Gottlieb is convinced a solution can be found for the “challenge of the generation”: “The starting point for any discussion is accepting that for a Torah Jew, there is no such thing as being directionless”
One imagines the chorus of voices against the strains of “Yedid Nefesh.”
“Why now? Where were they five years ago?”
“It’s all a money-maker.”
“How can you say that, if the gedolim are behind it?”
“Why should we believe that?”
“They’re schlepping us out there to tell us about a filter?”
“If this is what the mashgiach says, who are we to think we know better?”
“Why can’t they make small gatherings in each neighborhood?”
“They want to take the joy out of Yiddishkeit. They refuse to face the realities of today’s youth.”
There are the cynics and the faithful, the defenders and the I’ve-seen-too-much head-shakers, who view every initiative as another scam. As sesame seeds fall from challah and someone stabs at the final slice of fish, the debate continues.
So here’s the thing you need to know about Rabbi Nechemiah Gottlieb, the trusted lieutenant of Rav Mattisyahu Salomon in this campaign.
He’s normal.
A regular fellow, with a warm smile, calm demeanor, e-mail address, and cell phone. He doesn’t have wild eyes and doesn’t speak in a thundering voice. He radiates intelligence and practicality. He doesn’t reject the arguments of the men at Shalosh Seudos: he validates them, and then responds.
He and the other gentlemen gathered around a modest table in a converted home on Lakewood’s Route 9 may not have impressive business cards, but they clearly mean business.
They, and the leaders who inspire them, are calmly, coolly, facing an enemy that, so far, has been largely unchallenged.
The vision that fuels them, however, was expressed on a memorable spring day some fourteen years ago.
Trumpets for a New Generation It was a milestone event in American Torah life. The great yeshivah of Lakewood, Beth Medrash Govoha, was welcoming a new mashgiach, only the second since the yeshivah’s establishment. Flanked by the four roshei yeshivah as he was led to the front of a packed beis medrash in a ceremonial procession, Rav Mattisyahu Salomon stood before the aron kodesh and looked out at thousands of faces, eager bnei Torah hoping — longing — for guidance and direction, and he spoke.
His first words to them — his mission statement — was a quote from Rav Yechezkel Abramsky on the teaching of Chazal (Menachos 28) that while the klei shareis, the vessels of the Beis HaMikdash, were fashioned and created for eternity, the chatzotzros, the trumpets, were buried during Moshe Rabbeinu’s life.
The question is why the chatzotzros were different from the other keilim, which remained kosher for subsequent generations.
“Avodah, Divine service,” explained the new mashgiach, “bayt zich nisht, is unchanging, regardless of era or time. Each and every mitzvah, as represented by these keilim, is eternal and timeless, relevant and applicable now as ever. But hisorerus, inspiration,” the Mashgiach’s voice rose, “bayt zich, is constantly changing! The clarion call of one generation won’t necessarily work to gather the next one. The nisyonos of the fathers aren’t the same as those of the sons.”
There was a sense in the crowded room that the voice of the Mashgiach would be that trumpet, rallying the faithful into a new millennium, when nisyonos unthinkable just a few short years earlier would become the new common spiritual challenge.
And a trumpet he has been, facing down all sorts of crises, spiritual, social, and educational. He has found time and place in his heart for distraught couples and rebellious youth, acquainted himself with the struggle for parnassah and for acceptance in overcrowded schools. Through it all, he has done what a mashgiach is supposed to do: deliver shmuessen and vaadim in a yeshivah and city bursting with people focused on growth.
During the final hours of this past Rosh HaShanah, as daylight faded, the Mashgiach addressed an overflow crowd of talmidim. In a tear-choked voice, the Mashgiach used the auspicious hour to discuss ... the Internet. To those who wished for something more “derhoiben,” the Mashgiach explained that this is the nisayon hador, the challenge of the generation, and thus, it is the responsibility of anyone living in this generation.
Deciphering the Enemy Reb Nechemiah understands why people are scared of this campaign, why they react with panic, even cynicism. He readily concedes that he accepts the common sentiment of the man on the street, the somewhat hopeless, hands-up-in-the-air despair.
“That’s how it is with a nisayon. It takes us a while to take stock of what we’re up against, to figure out how we’re going to react. It’s always been that way. When electricity was invented, there were legitimate poskim who initially allowed its use on Shabbos, while others immediately perceived it as a violation of halachah”—he leans forward slightly—“and Klal Yisrael followed. Once it becomes clear what the question is, then we can decide on a course of action.”
His voice is firm. “The starting point for any discussion is accepting that there is no such concept as directionless, for a Torah Jew. Torah is relevant to every aspect of life, and the solutions and approach to any situation can be found there. ”
It’s a thought that’s been expressed by Reb Nechemiah’s father, the brilliant college professor–turned–Bostoner chassid–turned–Ohr Somayach rebbi, Rabbi Dr. David Gottlieb:
I’ll give you an analogy.
There is an international commission which determines the rules of international chess competition. Now, when they publish the latest rules, we cannot ask: “Are those rules really valid? Are they correct rules of chess?” We can’t ask that, because they determine the rules of chess. Similarly here — if the Torah is going to dictate what my ultimate values are, and what my ultimate goals are, and my ultimate values and goals are my standards of relevance, then I can no longer ask whether the Torah is relevant.
The Torah is that which determines relevance for everything else. The Torah is that to which other things have to be relevant, if they are to be relevant at all. The question, then, becomes not: Is the Torah relevant to me, to mankind, to society? But the question then becomes: Am I relevant to the Torah? Is my life a relevant life? I become the subject matter of the question, not the one who asks of the question. (Living Up to the Truth, 2010)
Reb Nechemiah may not speak as articulately, or with the same elegance, as his academic father, but he is no less convincing.
“And if you accept that there is a direction for everything, then throwing your hands up in despair isn’t a valid eitzah. There is a Torah, and it wants something from us. All that talk of accepting the Internet the way it is, of responding by simply educating our children about its pitfalls and speaking to them about the joy and happiness of Yiddishkeit, isn’t sufficient. It’s shallow to assume that more emunah-simchah-taamei hamitzvos–based parenting will take care of the problem, because while they are all vital, no amount of positive feelings can save a person from his yetzer hara.
“You know,” he smiles, “there are more mitzvos lo saasei than mitzvos asei in the Torah, more don’ts than do’s, so the argument of only focusing on the positives isn’t a very strong one anyhow. You need to look into the Torah, listen to gedolei Torah, and see how concrete and precise are its commands.”
Adjustments So who is this man, Rabbi Nechemiah Gottlieb, charged with coordinating, implementing and overseeing a major event — and, perhaps even more challenging, gathering together all sorts of Yidden, from all sorts of kehillos, under one banner?
The experiences and encounters of his life have given him a common language with so many different types, enabling him to understand and relate to various demographics.
He grew up in Baltimore, where his father was a philosophy professor at Johns Hopkins University.
But then, the family’s mentor and guide, the late Bostoner Rebbe, led a group of chassidim to Jerusalem, where they helped establish and settle Har Nof.
On an initial pilot trip, young Nechemiah was enrolled in Yeshiva Meah Shearim, which, as the name denotes, is in the heart of one of the most spiritually secluded neighborhoods in the world. The American youngster was taken by the charm and appeal of authentic Judaism, and also learned the nuances of Yerushalmi life.
Was it hard to adjust?
“Sure,” he laughs. “Kids make fun of other kids. In America they laughed at me because I wasn’t good at sports, and in Meah Shearim they laughed at me because I was American. I had all sorts of cultural quirks that they must have found amusing.”
In addition to developing a thick skin, he also developed a perfect Yiddish — which serves him well today.
A prime influence when he was young was the Bostoner Rebbe, the center of the Gottlieb family’s life.
“He had this incredible sense of achrayus, not just for his chassidim and his community, but for all of Klal Yisrael. My father would describe how the Rebbe was overtaxed, physically weak, yet he was literally available to anyone, all the time. His phone was never off the hook, because, he would explain, ‘There might be a Yid who needs me.’”
After graduating cheder, Nechemiah went to learn in Kol Torah, and later, Ohr Yisroel — two of the elite litvishe yeshivos in Eretz Yisrael, giving him an appreciation for the path of the yeshivah world.
“But my parents encouraged us to keep searching. They gave us aspirations in avodah, not just to go with the flow, so when I grew older, I found that my neshamah needed something else as well.”
He discovered that something in a tiny yeshivah between the walls of Jerusalem’s Old City.
“Rav Yitzchok Shlomo Zilberman was more than the just the leader of his kehillah, and an innovative force in chinuch. He was the type of person who built others, who developed latent kochos.”
Rav Zilberman reintroduced the learning methods of the Vilna Gaon and Maharal in his community, a path endorsed by Rav Aharon Leib Steinman that would eventually catch on across the chinuch world.
“He had a very direct approach. He believed that every single Jew has a responsibility to know the entirety of Torah, and he had the process of teaching it figured out.” (Described in Pirkei Avos and reiterated by both the Maharal and the Vilna Gaon, the curriculum generally calls for starting with Chumash and Navi at age five, proceeding to Mishnah at around age ten, and only beginning Gemara at a later age.)
After marriage, Reb Nechemiah joined the Zilberman kollel. Unlike other kollelim, this one had no stipend. “The shittah is in line with the Rambam, not to take money for learning, so I supported my family through helping edit and prepare seforim for publication.”
While he was learning in kollel, an emergency situation arose where a rebbi was needed right away, in middle of the school year. The young Rabbi Gottlieb was asked to step in and fill the position. It was quickly obvious that he was a natural in the classroom, and he approached his new calling with his characteristic energy, learning and absorbing everything about chinuch.
Ultimately, Rabbi Nechemiah Gottlieb became menahel of that Zilberman cheder.
Still how did he remain so open-minded, “normal” if you will, while immersed in the philosophy and ideals of a relatively private community, with its own ways?
His smile is broad. “Look, my parents are baalei teshuvah and they made a decision. Rather than deny it, they embraced it, and they raised us to appreciate that, the intellectual honesty. Not only that, but they raised us to respect and revere their own parents, even though they weren’t religious. They taught us that there were many good things we could learn from our grandparents.”
As a child, young Nechemiah went on fishing trips with his grandfather, experiences he cherishes until today. “It was a beautiful relationship, and I guess it was the most effective way to teach tolerance and respect for others.
“But don’t think it was always easy,” he laughs,“because it wasn’t only fishing. When Grandpa came to visit us, my father insisted that I accompany him to shul, in Meah Shearim. That took it to a new level; it forced me to be comfortable with him in public, not just to respect him, but to be proud of him.”
Banning Is No Solution Some 15 years ago, Reb Nechemiah joined the prestigious Vaad Menahalim in Yerushalayim, a body of leading educators established to deal with the chinuch threats that digital technology was presenting to the world. Young, interested, and bright, the menahel perceived the threats just as he perceived the opportunities.
“Some of my colleagues on the Vaad had a meeting at the home of Rav Elyashiv back then, and there was a motion to issue a resounding ban on the Internet, with zero tolerance. Rav Elyashiv’s response was, ‘Something that, I am told, will be necessary for business ten years from now, we can’t ban. That’s not the approach.’”
It was before the age of iPods and Wi-Fi, but videos, computer games, and DVDs were becoming part of life.
“I remember a drashah that Rav Shimshon Pincus ztz”l gave in Ramot, where he said, ‘I know some people here will think I’m crazy, but in a way, the video games are worse than radio and television. Because Chazal say that Hashem isn’t mevater, He can’t accept wasted time. There is a mindlessness and intellectual numbness that sets in with playing these games that we’ve never seen before.’
“You know, that was remarkably astute. There are many who feel that the danger of the Internet isn’t just the forbidden and inappropriate sights, but what it’s done to the tzuras ha’adam, bringing man — the crown of creation — into a new dimension where he can turn off his mind and heart, and just ‘surf,’ drawn from one site to another. Rav Pincus perceived where technology would bring us.”
Everyone’s Business Twelve years ago, there was growing interest in establishing a Zilberman-type school in Lakewood, and the menahel, who spoke a fluent English, was asked to come down for a consultation with the founding parents. He agreed to remain in Lakewood for a few weeks, just to help them get started.
At the suggestion of Rav Aharon Leib Steinman, Reb Nechemiah and his family came to live in Lakewood, “though only temporarily,” and Yeshiva Bais HaTorah opened its doors.
As one of Lakewood’s central chinuch personalities, Reb Nechemiah developed a strong connection with the Mashgiach. And as a natural outgrowth of his chinuch position, Reb Nechemiah made it his business to acquaint himself with the various new technological devices and their capabilities.
“It was my business, just like it is for every mechanech and parent.”
As parents were forced to rely on their own teenagers for tech support, there was a great demand for a mechanech who actually understood their world, and two years ago, Reb Nechemiah left his “day job” to devote himself fully to empowering parents with this awareness, traveling across North America and addressing large crowds.
With the Mashgiach’s guidance, the Technology Awareness Group was set up, working to tailor specific guidelines for each community.
“Parents have differing opinions about who is considered mature enough to be on the computer, or for how long. We have the people and expertise to advise them, and once they make their decision, we help direct them to the option that is right for them.
“Not every business can use a white-list, and not every filter can work for everyone.”
To an unsophisticated user, downloading a filter can be confusing and daunting.
“If you Google the words ‘download free filter,’ you get 141 million results. It can be pretty overwhelming. So we offer a service where you can call us, and we will log into your computer and help you through the process, based on your specifications.”
He gives another example. “A father wants to buy his son an iPod, because the kid loves music. But the father is clueless about which device is safe and which can create problems, so he calls us and we tell him exactly what he wants to know: model number, price, and which stores sell it.”
So Citi Field, as the upcoming event is being referred to, is really a natural next step. Besides the more esoteric aspects of the power of a mass gathering of Yidden, it’s time that the broader community has a collective, united voice.
“Imagine if one of the popular websites, a bank or airline, had inappropriate pictures. Wouldn’t it be great if we could call them up with a request from tens of thousands of users who use that site, asking them to tone it down?”
The event isn’t planned as a culmination, but as a starting point. “You know, sometimes you’re traveling and you see a guy with a yarmulke at a rest stop, so you nod a greeting. It doesn’t matter if he has a little knitted kippah or a huge Na Nach yarmulke, you feel a natural alliance and kinship with him because his head is covered.
“We need to establish that sense of ‘mishelanu’ in regard to technology as well. There are some lines we don’t cross, certain standards — like wearing a head-covering — that are lowest common denominators.
“Is a filter foolproof? No. But it can give a person bechirah, ensuring that someone who doesn’t want to see filth doesn’t have the nisayon, and someone who is pulled in that direction has to work harder for it, really squashing his conscience.”
From Citi Field, it is hoped, will come forth a slew of new ideas and initiatives, as different individuals and kehillos take the inspiration in different directions.
In His Hands At a recent meeting between the Mashgiach and community rabbanim, one of them exclaimed, “There is no eitzah!” Rav Mattisyahu turned to him and said that to accept the possibility that Klal Yisrael has no option of living in total holiness is to reject the truth of Torah.
“Imagine the despair of those Yidden unable to find work because of their firm commitment to shmiras Shabbos. They were surely mocked and reviled for being stubborn and obstinate, out of touch and unrealistic. Then, almost overnight, America introduced the five-day workweek and the nisayon — which had been so daunting — disappeared!”
Reb Nechemiah continues. “A little more hashkafah. The problems here are nothing new. Rabbanim and educators have been screaming, begging, and urging people to take this seriously, to see the pitfalls and casualties, yet there was no clear policy. Individual communities and rabbanim have done great work, but there is nothing like Klal Yisrael, standing united, ready to move forward and face the threat as one, and no koach or energy that can match that.”
The mass gathering at Citi Field, the event planned by Rav Mattisyahu and other gedolei Yisrael that Reb Nechemiah and his people are helping execute, has practical goals — awareness, standards, technological advice — but an additional, more intangible dimension as well, indicated by those who conceived it during a midnight meeting: the Lakewood Mashgiach and the Skulener Rebbe.
“Let’s take a moment to realize who we’re talking about: the Mashgiach, whose dining room table is wet with Yiddishe tears, who has given his very life-blood to encourage Yidden. And the Rebbe ... as a young man, he sat in jail, singing songs of praise for the zchus to help Yidden. The Skulener Rebbe is the only rebbe who travels the world collecting money for Chesed L’Avraham, for Sephardic children in Eretz Yisrael. Not for his own mosdos and not to create Skulener chassidim, but for Hashem’s children.
“And now, these two tzaddikim — neither of whom is the rally-organizer type — feel that coming together itself is part of the solution, showing the Ribono shel Olam that this nisayon is hurting us and we need Him to help us, like with the five-day workweek. Who’s to say the government won’t take a more active role in policing and regulating the Internet, making our job that much easier? The Eibeshter has all the solutions — but we need to ask for them.
“And for those who wonder why we don’t just make local gatherings, the answer is the same. These gedolei Yisrael feel that, as someone wrote, ‘it takes a nation to change a nation.’ We need to gather b’rov am and instill the hard facts that without a filter a person has no bechirah; it needs to become instinctive, like checking food products for a hechsher, that a Torah Jew won’t sit down by an unfiltered computer.
“The Mashgiach constantly refers to this as the nisayon hador — Rav Elya Ber Wachtfogel said it’s a bigger nisayon than the Haskalah and secular Zionism combined, and the Rachmistrivka Rebbe in Eretz Yisrel said that it might well be the biggest nisayon since the beginning of time. Rav Mattisyahu feels that just as the Beis HaMikdash was destroyed through sinas chinam, a mass show of unity in an area all Yidden need help with might well be the catalyst for its rebuilding. It’s a new enemy, and we need to come together to meet it with a common goal, from the bottom up.”
Reb Nechemiah is comfortable with his own candor. “And to those who think it’s a poor idea, or the wrong time, or whatever, I’ll be honest with you. I also didn’t love the idea, but it doesn’t make a difference what Nechemiah Gottlieb thinks. It makes a difference what the Mashgiach and other gedolim think. Once the Mashgiach made it clear that this is the path we should take, I accepted the mandate and helped.
“So maybe I don’t have an answer for every criticism that’s leveled against the asifah ... but I’d rather appear a little less smart and follow gedolim than try be smarter than them and stay home.”
Rabbi Gottlieb doesn’t write off the bloggers and pundits, doesn’t wave his hands and ask, “Who cares what they say?”
He respects their right to question and discuss, but asks for something in return.
“Citi Field has become an easy target for anyone with an agenda; this is wrong, that is wrong. A fundamental of chinuch is knowing that you need to take everyone’s opinion seriously, child or adult. Sometimes, you can hear some very intelligent things if you keep your ears open. Maybe the Mashgiach and other gedolim know something these people don’t?”
And like any good mechanech, he has a story. “I learned in a yeshivah called Ohr Yisrael, in Petach Tikvah, and the rosh yeshivah, Rav Yigal Rosen, is a great man. When I was a bochur, I read about the birzhe in the Novardok yeshivah system. It was kind of an intense mussar marketplace, where bochurim would gather in little groups and speak honestly with each other. One person would share a personal struggle, and other would suggest and analyze, with complete and utter honesty, based on how they perceived each other’s strengths and weaknesses.
“I was fascinated by the idea, and I asked the Rosh Yeshivah if I might establish a small chaburah in the yeshivah to practice this brutally honest form of mussar. The Rosh Yeshivah said that he agreed, but on one condition: that he be allowed to join.
“That story has never left me: this great talmid chacham and rebbi ready to hear and accept mussar from his teenage talmidim.”
Pressing Reset And here’s the bottom line. “The Mashgiach won’t allow us to print stationery; we have no letterhead. He doesn’t want this to become another organization — this is a real, grassroots expression of a desire for change, nothing more. The goal of Citi Field is to invest the Yiddishe bloodstream with new instincts, instead of just intellectual knowledge. Smokers will admit that they stopped smoking after seeing films and images of blackened lungs, even though they knew all the relevant information before. The program is meant to instill us with a new awareness at the gut level, to empower people to move forward, each in his own way.”
This isn’t about organizations or party politics, it’s about a nation gathered around its generals, ready to rethink its approach and meet the challenge head-on.
So if someone suggests that Rabbi Nechemiah Gottlieb and the people around him are trying to sell you a bridge, they may just be right; but maybe, just maybe, it’s the bridge you want to be walking on when the waves below get too rough. Maybe it’s the bridge that will keep you safe.
