"Throughout life, conflicts and crises arise which test our assumptions and the strength of our commitment, and the required fortitude has to come from within." - Rabbi Yosef Blau, Mashgiach Ruchani.
It is difficult to imagine a position within any yeshiva that has as much potential impact as that of Mashgiach Ruchani. The man who holds this position can assume one of two possible roles in confronting the student body: of Primary Supporter or Chief Aggressor, both of which require utilizing the same skills, but necessitate the starkly differentiated implementation of those skills. In Rabbi Blau we are blessed to have the former. There is not another man in this institution who so efficiently - it would be diminishing to say effortlessly - crosses all contrived borders, between "Yeshiva" and "University," beis midrash and classroom, MYP and JSS.
It was under the influence of this harmonious attitude that I approached many of my positions on campus and in the Jewish community. As I served as Director of last year's Arts Festival, I witnessed a Rabbi Blau's appearance at every one of our meetings, as he exerted a significant influence upon the final product. Looking back, I'm consistently proud of the fact that I have organized events that sought, and often found, audiences whose diversity has been rarely matched in other productions.
So, when approaching my latest project, the production of Amsterdam Ave., I was ecstatic as the final product came to represent a similar diversity. The musicians that put together this album impress me, understandably, for their musical skill. More so, they impress for their commitment to their music; music that unites a varied listenership, invents a creative community, and clears the path for individual achievement and growth. And each member, to return to the diversity theme, is someone uniquely positioned within this musician's community - each has a story to tell, and each is valuable in and of itself. From the semicha guy who found the derech at his secular university, to the undergrad still searching for it, these students, these men, offer a gift to the world in their music.
Devoid of musical ability, left with the responsibility of designing the album's art, I took it upon myself to attempt to translate this musical beauty into visual expression. Of course, the photographs that cover the cover (hmmm…) were all easy choices. I assumed, though, that there would have to be some form of textual expression that could serve to describe the mission of the music responsibly. I chose the quote that heads this column.
It's a pity to reduce the great body of accomplishment that Rabbi Blau has provided us to one sentence that he's written. However, the quote above, taken entirely out of context, serves to provide a reduction in the positive sense - by removing all pretense of context and argument, driving to the heart of the matter: "you."
Though often speaking in third-person or abstraction, Rabbi Blau always delivers a sense within his message that he is communicating with you, or me, or someone else, in a direct and personal manner. For, and Rabbi Blau will pardon if I miss the mark slightly here, our present journey - as students - of intellectual, spiritual, and interpersonal experiences is intended to find, as its destination, a self-understanding in which our lifestyles, opinions, and pursuits reflect our individual natures, as opposed to the reverse. Every approach or position is valid if you think it is. Of course, "thought" needs to be limited, so that it remains within the boundaries set forth by a commitment to personal honesty, but that is hardly a deprivation. To have an opinion is, hopefully, to believe that it is correct, basing that belief upon an interpretation of specific facts and assumptions. What one should be left with, after exploring his own principles of faith, commitment, and practice, is a firmly held conviction that unalterably declares these self-defined notions, while simultaneously engaging in a wholehearted acceptance of the ways of others; not "the other," but, simply, "others."
It is in attempting to remain true to this philosophy that we can learn from others. Recently, I've been reflecting upon my years at Yeshiva as I ponder whether or not to stay here longer ("and for how long?" my dear parents beg to know). My ego always leads me to assume that I haven't changed in my years here, that I was as developed and educated when I arrived as I am now (and my friends, jokingly, chime in, assuring me that I haven't matured in some time). Of course, if I'm to commit to the principles previously declared, I must believe that my status is due, in large part, to the contributions of others.
Engaging in an effort to define myself in terms of past ant present, I don't know how to quantify personal change. Certainly, my accomplishments here are one way to measure change. If life is a belt upon which notches of concerts and readings and demonstrations are cut, then I've changed significantly. But I am not defined by my resume, as I'm constantly reminded every time I revise it in order to impress a different prospective employer.
As an educator, Rabbi Blau seeks to further the progress of all students by joining in their efforts. No student publication goes a year without at least one contributed article from him, and yet, by their tone and tenor, his articles stand out. They contrast with the other material in that, within each specialized publication, with its specialized content, his articles speak to all students with a message that is uniformly read and variously interpreted. As indicative of his approach to all activities, Rabbi Blau's involvement in all student publications sets a standard that no other individual at Yeshiva meets. My friends and family have always criticized me for neglecting my schoolwork and my personal development in the name of various activist endeavors. It's taken some time, but I finally realize that they're right. That's why, as I approach a full, fourth year at Yeshiva, I know that it's both time for me to begin to achieve academically, as well as create a rational system for approaching my attempts at effecting change in which no one individual is left unable to act, swamped in unachievable intentions. I can't do what everybody else has to do, but I can do what I'm meant to, and that means that I'll be able to make things happen in a way that doesn't require my taking the initiative, but allows for the reality that others take it themselves. The coming year should be a good one, as I both prepare for a future (yes, Mom and Dad, that includes a job), and put in place the final touches that should appropriately conclude my Yeshiva career. Next year, for me, won't be about just fighting for the cause, but striving for it responsibly, in a way that reflects a little self-respect. For that, I thank you, Rabbi Blau.