Perpetuating the Masorah: Halakhic, Ethical, and Experiential Dimensions by Rabbi Professor Yitzhak (Isidore) Twersky (My Review and Thoughts)

We can always learn a thing or two and we can always find out that not all assumptions are indeed accurate. Until now, I did not realize it was possible to put “Hasidic” and “Harvard” in the same sentence when describing the credentials of one individual. The former, after all, (as of late at least) seems within their numerous yeshivas to consider secular studies an at-best afterthought. Could those who graduate from any of these schools reasonably emulate Rabbi Twersky who seemed to follow more closely with the ‘form and matter’ of Rabbi Hirsch’s “Torah im Derech Eretz”? In a collection of five essays, we get a sampling of shiurim he gave in the mid-1990’s covering a varied collection of motifs.

As it turns out, this is not my first encounter with the writings of Rabbi Professor Twersky. A few years ago when I began seriously getting into Jewish reading, after finishing the Tanakh, I did the most obvious thing any novice should do and picked up his Maimonides Reader. While this may not count exactly as a ‘book by Rabbi Twersky’ as from what I recall, outside of his introductions and short remarks throughout, it was a brief collection of the Rambam’s writings, the book—comments and all—left a good impression on me so I’m happy to have recalled that while now finally diving into his entirely original output and here in the Maggid Modern Classics series, output that unlike the Reader is not academic, but in shiurum form.

Perpetuating the Masorah is surprisingly not that difficult of a read nor at around 200 pages (eBook) is it a timesink to get through. Consisting of four expertly transcribed shiurum in honor of the Rav (his father-in-law, Joseph B. Soloveitchik) and one long form essay all dedicated to him, we get an enlightening sampling of some of what made him such an important figure to Rabbi Twersky (and frankly to most everyone as he truly was a giant of 20^th century Jewish thought). The last piece, the dedication, is the longest and also the hardest of the quintet, but even leading up to it, we get some insights until now I’ve never really considered.

For example, the boundlessness of an ‘ethical mitzvot’ vs what I’ve mentally been calling ‘mechanical mitzvot’. For Rabbi Twersky, an example of note is the difference between the two and one that even if not ever completed fulfilled still counts is honoring one’s parents: “Not only is the mitzvah significant in and of itself, but it teaches an important ethical principle: if it is not possible to fulfill a mitzvah completely, even a fragmentary, partial fulfillment is meaningful.” (p. 30)

Later on, he remarks upon the importance of the personal touch: halakha robots giving mechanical shiurs will not accomplish much. A powerful teacher of Torah (or most anything, really) “must share his own emotional-experiential components of Torah. They are his own emotions, his personal experience of a certain mitzvah, but he has to share these.” (p. 46) It’s something I noticed from the hours a week my ears are open for aural Torah study: the life lessons mixed in do the trick of making the information ‘stick’ and just how one needs the form of and matter of balanced secular and Torah study, an ‘empty’ lesson may leave only the smallest of footprints.

And speaking of big footprints, Rabbi Twersky does take a step back with the final piece providing a tour de force of his father-in-law, Joseph B. Soloveitchik by succinctly noting his own secret sauce: “he was not artificially constrained by any one school. He did not have to conform in a rigid, scholastic way to any system. His works reflect the same structural pattern: abstract analytical-dialectical philosophical writing laced with lyrical flashes, autobiographical reminiscences, and touching scenes based on familial lore or related generally to ĥakhmei hamasorah.” (p. 186)

Perpetuating the Masorah is my second outing in Maggid’s (Koren Publishers) Modern Classics series. The first featuring the postmodern writings of Rabbi Shagar was a tough, tough read and led me to have some apprehension here; was I again going into something I might barely be able to chew? As noted, this is not a long book nor is it exceptionally challenging…at first glance. Like Rabbi Shagar and perhaps unlike him as well, my first dip into Rabbi Twersky’s original material was perhaps deceptively smooth-going. I’ve a feeling a future re-read or three is in order.

4.5/5