Inheriting the Crown in Jewish Law: The Struggle for Rabbinic Compensation, Tenure, and Inheritance Rights (review)

This well-documented work deals with the history of rabbinic compensation, and its subtitle aptly summarizes its contents. The book begins with a discussion of the primary position of the tradition that Torah should not be used as spade, nor, as declared in Pirkei Avot, should the Torah be studied in order to receive a monetary reward. As a rabbi prepares to serve the community, dedicated to Torah and its teachings, he/she is burdened with this admonition. Yet, at the same time, since the rabbinate is a full-time endeavor, the rabbi needs to feed the family and meet expenses. These contradictory concerns become most evident when it comes time to negotiate salary and benefits. At the same time, the board of the congregation is required to be fiscally responsible and must raise all the funds necessary to meet its financial obligations. The board has a fiduciary responsibility to meet its budget, and the rabbi often feels caught between the guilt of failing to follow Pirkei Avot on the one hand, and the need adequately to provide for his/her family on the other.

With day school tuition and summer camp costs added to the cost of maintaining a traditional Jewish home, only the most fortunate rabbis will not have to make difficult financial choices. This book is comforting, for it explains that this dilemma was also faced by our rabbinic ancestors and the communities they served for hundreds of years.

Jeffrey Roth explains how our tradition was able to solve the problem so that communities could provide adequate funds to maintain rabbinic leadership. First of all, the situation changed when communities depended on fulltime rabbinic leadership in order to flourish. It became evident that rabbis would not be willing or able to serve a community if they were not adequately compensated. One of the solutions was to place the rabbi not only in the realm of keter torah, but add to his function the realms of keter k’hunah and keter malkhut as well. Since, for these latter two realms, of priesthood and monarchy, the requirement for compensation was d’oraita, from the Torah directly, and since these two realms no longer existed after the destruction of the Temple and the loss of the monarchy, it was thought that the rabbinic function fulfilled these roles. So, compensation for the rabbi was understood not to reflect his work in the Torah realm, but was paid because he had priestly and administrative responsibilities.

At one time, this book explains, compensation was not necessarily in the form only of salary, but also benefits, like tax benefits, the rights of rabbi’s sons to inherit the position, and the ability to collect fees for teaching or other duties.

There were two issues that this reader found most fascinating. When there were issues of disagreement between rabbis and their communities, an outside halakhic authority was called upon to adjudicate the issue. In such cases a sh’eilah (question) was sent to a recognized authority, and a t’shuvah (response) was issued based on precedent in Jewish law and legal analysis. The book presents an amazing variety of issues that were decided in this manner, including rabbinic compensation, placement, and tenure. Although my rabbinate was limited to a thirty-eight-year tenure in only one congregation before I retired, contract negotiation moments were always tense and difficult for both sides. The path was not always smooth. As the congregation grew and changed, my obligations changed, and I was privileged to witness all the “Alban Institute” changes.¹ Contract negotiations were times for self-evaluation. I had to determine if I could change along with the congregation and acquire the necessary skills. The congregation had to decide if they felt that I could accomplish this task or if it would have been best to replace me. While the Rabbinical Assembly was often helpful, neither the...