Maven Yavin

Collective Bargaining Agreements

2006-12-19T13:48:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

I’m not an economist or a labor lawyer, but there are certain features of any labor dispute which seem obvious. There are always three parties involved: ownership, labor, and the consumer. The consumer is the engine that drives the whole thing. When two people own a goose that lays golden eggs, they might bicker over the details and responsibilities of ownership, but ultimately they understand that what’s at stake is more than just schnitzel. They know that keeping it together is ultimately beneficial and necessary for both parties.

The immediate cause for thinking about this is the expiration of the NFL’s CBA. Football is such a cash-cow that it’s simply impossible that there won’t be some kind of agreement reached between ownership and the players. In order to bring the product to the consumer, i.e., the fans, there must be a CBA. Ownership has everything, but can’t play the game. The players can play, but don’t have the resources to bring the game to the world. The needs of the fan dictate that the owners and players must figure out a way to get along, and re-enter into a contract with each other.

OK, but that’s football, right? Wrong.

17 You have agreed this day that the LORD is to be your God, and that you will walk in His ways, and keep His statutes, and His commandments, and His ordinances, and listen to His voice. 18 And the LORD has agreed this day that you are to be His treasure, as He hath promised thee, and to keep all His commandments; 19 and to raise you above all nations that He has made, to be a praise, a name, and a model of glory, and that you will be a holy people unto the LORD your God, as He has spoken. {P}
-Devarim 26: 17-19

The above passage is but one which discusses the nature of the covenant between God and Israel. It’s a bilateral covenant, wherein each side agrees to certain responsibilities. Using the sports analogy, God is Ownership, Israel is the players, and the rest of the world is the fan, the consumer. For better or worse, through thick and thin, God and Israel are ‘stuck’ with each other.

Essentially, Moshe was the first to point this out, in this week’s parsha, when he argues that once God has selected Israel, to destroy them would undermine the very message that He’s trying to broadcast to the world. The basis of this covenant, invoked by Moshe in our Parsha, is the ‘thirteenfold covenant’ which both names God’s attributes and describes for us how we can become ‘Godlike’, how we can ‘walk in his ways’. It also ‘forces’ both both parties involved, God and Israel, to renew the ‘contract’ every year (specifically every Rosh Hashana), where we agree to wipe the slate clean and give it another chance, basically because neither party has a choice in the matter.

There’s also the idea of a ‘Players’ Union’ which is so important. Individually, each player is expendable. Collectively, their bargaining power becomes formidable. Similarly, the bargaining power that each member of Israel has is pretty weak. Any one of us is ultimately expendable. It’s only through ‘collective bargaining’ and ‘unionization’ that we can ‘force’ God back to the table with us.

Haloscan comments

Derech HaLimmud and Theology

2006-12-19T13:47:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

What is the relationship between one's derech halimmud and theology?

I use the "yeshivish" term "derech halimmud" intentionally to refer exclusively to different traditional styles of learning. I exclude the academic study of Talmud, as such an approach, which takes into account the historical contingencies involved it the developments of Talmud, certainly reflects a non-traditional outlook towards torah she'll baal peh.

For example, it is fashionable to portray R' Chaim Soloveitchik's development of the "Brisker" method of Talmud study as reflecting some deeper innovative spirit that animated his broader religious thought as well. In fact, some of his contemporaries villified him for this. The Ridbaz is quoted as saying:

"One rabbi invented the study of chemistry ... and this has been very, very bad for us, for it has introduced a foreign spirit from the outside into the oral tradition, which has been handed down to us from our teacher Moses from the mouth of God."

And indeed, his grandson, RYBS, sought to portray R' Chaim as an exmplar of the "Halachik Man," and built a broad theological idea around this idealized personality.

However, this is most likely incorrect as a historical matter. R' Aharon Lichtenstein notes:

[S]ome may be sorely tempted to relate the conceptual approach to a specific theological infrastructure. I am certain that Reb Hayyim would have resisted the suggestion vigorously; and I, for one would take him at his word. I do not believe that his basic assumptions in the area of emunot ve-de'ot, or the quality of spirituality that characterized him, were much different from the tradition in which he was reared, or that any presumed differences significantly affected his innovation.

This is borne out by the "Israeli" branch of the Brisk dynasty, which is religislously conservative to an extreme.

Which is fine. At least this approach fosters critical thinking and intellectual curiosity in one area -- limmud torah.

Contrast this with the derech halimmud advocated by R' Shach (Hattip: S.):

Maran's [note: Maran=R' Shach] grandson, HaRav Ben Zion Bergman shlita, related that in his early years he used to study with Maran every day when he returned from yeshiva for the afternoon break. When he reached shiur alef in yeshiva gedola, they studied the chapter, Naarah Hameorasah, and dwelled at length upon the innovations on it.

Maran asked him, "What did they say about the words of the Ran concerning `Nisroknah?" R' Ben Zion expounded on all the commentaries he had heard on the subject.

Rabbenu listened, and then said, "All that you need to know from what you just said is that the Ran says thus and the Rashba challenges it and replies as he does. The reply is not quite satisfactory, however, and can be reconciled in this manner. But more than that, you need not know at all!"

"More than that, you need not know at all"? What about plumming deeper into the sugya? What about trying to understand the conceptual basis of the machlokes between these rishonim?

R' Shach's conservatism in derech halimmud is even more starkly indicated in the following excerpt which seems to equate deviations from R' Shach's approach with a fundamental flaw in character:

In his letters, Maran says that this is how he studied. What he did not initially understand, he would skim over, and not dwell upon, but proceed onward. Afterwards, he would review time and again. Repeatedly.

He once warned a young student and told him, "Don't learn slowly. Don't look for complex explanations and sevoros. Don't do what they call iyun, in depth study. Study to cover ground and review a great deal. I know that you won't listen to me (for he knew that his approach was not accepted), but nevertheless, I am telling you this so that you won't come to me later with complaints as to why I didn't tell you this before. The time will come when you will understand what I am telling you, and will regret not having listened to me."

That very person told me, confessing, "Now I really understand what he was saying. But it is too late . . . "

Maran HaRav Shach wrote about this in many letters and used to speak about it frequently, and was painfully aware that the popular approach to learning was not what it should be. But, he admitted, people were blinded to his view; they were bribed by self-serving interests. They thought their way led to success, but did not realize that it was all wrong.

It's like diabetics who allow themselves to eat sweets, deluding themselves that no harm will come but are blind to the eventual outcome. And even if those students heard and knew, still, conflicting interests got in the way. Even in [deciding on] the approach to study, one encounters deceptions and bribery which we cannot go into here.

I have no doubt that there is a link R' Shach's conservatism in his derech halimmud and his broader theological conservatism.

What I don't understand about R' Shach's derech is thit is how it is effective. Intense, conceptual Talmud study that characterizes the "brisker" derech at least gives an intelligent young student an arena to exercize his mind. In light of R' Shach's firm opposition to any sort of secular study, how is such a student supposed to express his creativity and intellectual curiousity?

Haloscan comments

The Rav zt'l on Boneh Olamos U'Machrivam (God Built Worlds and Destroyed Them)

2006-12-19T13:46:00.001-08:00

Krum as a bagel

From the Rav's 1957 Yahrtzeit Drasha (as quoted in "The Rav," Aharon Rakeffet-Rothkof):

The Midrash relates that God created and destroyed many worlds before He allowed this world to remain in existence. Some of the earlier worlds were even more beautiful than the present one, but the Creator eliminated them. He then went ahead and created this world, which has endured.

What are the rabbis teaching us? What does it mean that God created and destroyed worlds? After all, He could have made this world to begin with, so why did God experiment with the earlier creations?

This Midrash conveys a very important concept to us. A person must know how to continue building and creating in life, even if his previous efforts are demolished. He cannot lose hope and must not give up. He must go ahead and build again. Perhaps the new world will not be as beautiful as the earlier one; nevertheless, he must continue to rebuild. God was able to say about His final world: "Behold it was very good". That it, the final, permanent world is very good, even though some of the earlier ones may have been more beautiful. They are gone, and we must maximize what we have now.

Today, we must judge the Torah world we are reconstructing after the Holocaust as "very good," even though earlier ones may have been more beautiful. I am very proud of the Maimonides Day School in Boston. Many times I test the students on the Humash and Rashi that they are studying. I am impressed by their knowledge and inspired by their achievements. Then I ask myself why I am so excited by such small accomplishments. After all, I saw the giants of European Torah Jewry before the Holocaust. I discussed talmudic topics with my topics with my grandfather, Reb Chaim Soloveitchik of Brisk. I visited with Reb Chaim Ozer Grodzinski in Vilna. I debated with Reb Shimon Shkop concerning the explanation of certain talmudic passages. I spent entire nights with Reb Baruch Leibowitz of Kaminetz attemptin to comprehend difficult rulings in the Code of Mainmonides. Why am I so impressed that American youngsters can master a little Humash with Rashi, the rudiments of Torah study?

This is the message of the re-creation of destroyed worlds. A Jew has to know how to emulate God, and, like God, to continue to create even after his former world has beem eradocated. True, what I have in Bostom may not be as beatiful before the Holocaust. Nevertheleess, it is the world we now have. We have to continue to buid it and not look back. We must not be cynical, and we should direct our atttention and efforts to the future. We must look ahead.

The Rav may not have answered the big "why the Holocaust?" question in this drasha, but he was able to extract a profound insight from a maamar chazal that no doubt brought comfort to an audience that in 1957 still hadn't even fully come to grips with the enormity of the tragedy.

What the Rav did again and again in his derashos is as important as answering the big theological questions of our time, something Rav did not do (and it is ironic that the Chazal in question is often used by apologists to explain how the fossil record is consistent with the Torah). The Rav showed that the Torah is a relevant, living thing. This very notion -- that the Torah contains sophisticated messages that speak to a modern generation -- no doubt gave enormous comfort and chizuk to his followers perhaps more than the content of those messages themselves.

Haloscan comments

Responding to the Holocaust Cartoon Contest

2006-12-19T13:46:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

I wrote yesterday that I think that Iran’s call for Holocaust cartoons, though it misidentifies the responsible party, is the best Muslim response to the Danish Cartoon Fiasco. It challenges the West to ‘put its money where its mouth is’, and employ freedom of expression to run these cartoons just like they ran the Mohammed caricatures.

It betrays a bit of a lack of understanding of what freedom of expression and the press entail – I CAN publish whatever I want, but don’t HAVE TO publish whatever I want. And after I publish whatever I want you can call me whatever names you want to call me because I published it, and you can cancel your subscription, and you certainly aren’t required to grant me a forum to air my views. And the government simply cannot interfere.

Thus, there are two potential responses that we, as Jews, can take to these Holocaust cartoons:

We can protest their publication in Western media outlets, but would need to also protest the publication of the Mohammed caricatures. If we complain that Holocaust cartoons are inappropriate because they cross a certain line of offensiveness, then we should not distinguish between the two sets of cartoons. One might argue that it’s not our responsibility to protect Islam from defamation, to which I’d counter that

If we have perfected a nonviolent mechanism for protecting ourselves from defamation – and we have, by and large, at least in the USA – then we should definitely extend it or share it with those who simply have not. Ta’aninan Le-Yatmi (a halakhic principle which is invoked to enter a plea for those who can’t be expected to enter one for themselves). We can’t expect these countries to take a lesson that, “See, the Jews can influence the media through nonviolent measures, we should, too” because that message would be completely lost. Admittedly, this thinking is a bit paternalistic, but, then again, the entire notion of a ‘Light unto the Nations’ is a bit paternalistic.

In these particular circumstances, if we defend only ourselves it will reinforce the conviction that the Iranian leadership is trying to make, namely, that ‘freedom of expression’ is a farce which is selectively employed to defend only those controversial or insulting ideas which are not part of the media’s agenda.

This is the approach that I prefer, namely, that we shouldn’t protest against the publication of these cartoons. I think that any paper which published the Mohammed caricatures should publish the Holocaust cartoons. The statement must be made somehow that independent media outlets have the right to publish this garbage, and the best way for that statement to be made is if, just this once, it’s actually published. More than apologizing, let’s demonstrate that it’s never worthwhile to get all worked up over something which is, at the end of the day, a cartoon. Let’s demonstrate that we value the freedoms that we enjoy even if they sometimes cause us pain. So let’s take a collective deep breath and take one for the team (cf. Isaiah Chap. 53).

So far, the responses of some high-profile Jewish organizations, as reported by Reuters have essentially played directly into Iranian hands. Were the Mohammed caricatures not ‘deliberately inflammatory’? Are we as adamant when we protest against the Danish cartoons? In the ADL’s statement on this, they address the issue in the first and last line, while using the rest to talk about Moslem hate. This report does pretty much the same. We really can’t afford to be perceived as employing a double-standard (whether in reality we are or aren’t). We either condemn is all, or let it all ride.

Haloscan comments

January 2006

2006-12-19T13:45:00.000-08:00

Dilemmas for a 'Trembling'-Related Program

2006-12-19T13:44:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

I’m writing something for a program that an Orthodox community is running. They will be screening the film ‘Trembling before God’, followed by a breakout discussion section. I composed the following set of dilemmas for the group to discuss after the film. The goal is to get people thinking about the issues in a more complex way, and not, as is common, as a zero-sum game (see here for an earlier post on this topic). I’m curious what others have to say about these dilemmas, and feel free to propose other dilemmas as well.

Should a shul grant a ‘family membership’ to a gay couple?
If a monogamous gay man gets an aliyah, should he be allowed to make a mishebeirach for his partner? How would he refer to him? ‘Ba’ali (my husband)? shutafi (my partner)? Chaveri (my male friend)?
Should the Orthodox community differentiate between gays with Jewish partners and gays with non-Jewish partners? Between gays with one partner and gays with multiple partners?
Should the laws of ‘negiah’ apply to gays for members of their own sex? The opposite sex?
What should a gay person do when in shul, if they are distracted by someone on their own side of the mechitza?
Should gay women be encouraged to keep ‘taharat ha-mishpacha’ with their partners? What about gay men?
Should our schools accept Jewish children of same-sex marriages?
Should you pay a ‘shiva’ visit to someone mourning his or her same-sex partner?

Haloscan comments

R' Soloveitchik on Torah and Science

2006-12-19T13:43:00.001-08:00

Krum as a bagel

It has been noted that R’ Soloveitchik didn't spend much energy addressing the conflicts between Torah and science. For example, his statement regarding evolution is hopelessly vague.

His essay “Catharsis” sheds at least some light on his view of the issue. The essay is based in part on the Midrash that describes the purpose of the Torah as "litzaref," to purge, his creations. RYBS describes this "purging" or "catharsis” as part of a dialectical process:

The Torah wants man, who is bold and adventurous in his quest for opportunities, to act heroically, and at the final moment, when it appears to him that victory is within reach, to stop short turn around and retreat.

RYBS explains how this concept is expressed with respect to our desires, our emotions and intellect. In the first two categories he gives concrete examples of where halacha requires us to retreat. With respect to human desire (the "aesthetic-hedonistic realm"), the example is the couple on their wedding night:

"Bride and bridegroom are young, physically strong and passionately in love with each other. Both have patiently waited for this rendezvous to take place. Just one more step and their love would have been fulfilled, a vision realized. Suddenly the bride and groom make a movement of recoil. He, gallantly, like a chivalrous knight, exhibits paradoxical heroism. He takes his own defeat. There is no glamor attached to his withdrawal. The latter is not a spectacular gesture, since there are no witnesses to admire and laud him. The heroic act did not take place in the presence of jubilating crowds; no bards will sing of these two modest, humble young people. It happened in the sheltered privacy of their home, in the stillness of the night. The young man, like Jacob of old, makes an about-face; he retreats at the moment when fulfilment seems assured."

In the emotional realm, RYBS gives the example of the laws of mourning. According to halacha, shiva is interrupted by a holiday. The halacha requires a person to suspend his mourning and replace it with happiness.

RYBS also talks about catharsis in the realm of the intellectual. If RYBS believed that the science of the Torah was infallible, whether with respect to the manner of creation or the scientific pronouncements of Chazal, than RYBS could have easily cited this as an example of catharsis: the scientist is obligated to search out the truth but if it conflicts with a gemara, he must retreat and be "mivatel his daas." But no. Rather, RYBS affirms the importance of free inquiry:

When I speak of cognitive withdrawal and self-negation, I do no mean to suggest that the scientist should conduct his inquiry without throughness or inconclusively. On thte contrary every schoilar is guided intiuiotively by an ethical norm, which tells him to search the truth assiduously and to rest until he has it wihtinm his reach. Cognitive withdrawal is related not to the scientific inquiry as a logical operation…

Instead, according to RYBS, catharsis in the intellectual realm means that the scientist must understand the limits of science, namely, that science does not give answers to the fundamental questions of existence, human consciousness and values. While this may put some limits on scientific inquiry (e.g., neuroscience’s attempt to identify a purely biological process for explaining consciousness), these limits come from the broad premises of religion rather than specific maamarei chazal or passages in the Torah.

Of course, I am reading between the lines. And we certainly don't know how RYBS dealt with the conflicts between Science and Torah. But one gets the sense that for him it just wasn't a kasha to begin with.

Haloscan comments

A Manufactured Midrash - Name, Speech, Garb, part II

2006-12-19T13:43:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

[sorry it's longer than usual; it's good, though]

In my previous post, I discussed the fact that the ‘well-known’ Midrash that states that the Israelites in Egypt never changed their names, lanuage, or clothing, doesn’t actually exist. I also discussed (a bit) what I think similar midrashim really mean.

But I want to address some other questions which have bothered me since that last post, namely:

What motivates the different lists that we get in the various midrashim?

Perhaps more importantly, how is it that this non-midrash gained such currency? That two midrashim are conflated isn’t a great surprise, but that the conflation, and this particular conflation, gained such wide popularity in Orthodox circles? (if you don’t believe me, look at this, this, or this). Most discussions of Jewish identity in Egypt will list at least these three elements.

There are two basic lists in the midrashim. There are variations within each list, but it seems that there are only two groups of lists. Here’s one example of each (translation mine):

ויקרא רבה (וילנא) פרשה לב
רב הונא אמר בשם בר קפרא בשביל ד' דברים נגאלו ישראל ממצרים שלא שנו את שמם ואת לשונם ולא אמרו לשון הרע ולא נמצא ביניהן אחד מהן פרוץ בערוה

פסיקתא זוטרתא (לקח טוב) דברים פרשת תבא דף מו עמוד א
דבר אחר ויהי שם לגוי. מלמד שהיו ישראל מצויינים שם. שהיה מלבושם ומאכלם ולשונם משונים מן המצריים. מסומנין היו וידועין שהם גוי לבדם חלוק מן המצריים:

Yayikra Rabbah section 32
R’ Huna said in the name of Bar Kapparah: Because of 4 things Israel was redeemed from Egypt: They didn’t change their names or their language, they didn’t speak lashon ha-ra (we’ll leave the translation for now), and none of them was promiscuous.

Minor Pesikta, Devarim (Ki Tavo) 41a
Another interpretation: “And there they became a nation” – this teaches that the Israelites were distinct there, in that their clothing, food, and language was different from the Egyptians’. They were identified and known as a separate nation, apart from the Egyptians.

The first midrash describes four things that the Israelites actively maintained. Their non-change was reactionary and counter-cultural. The two non-cultural elements on the list can be understood in this way as well. Their chastity prevented an intermingling of bloodlines, preserving the ethnic character of their group, and perhaps also can be read in a way that’s similar to Malcolm X’s call (as told in his Autobiography) for black men to recognize that his infatuation with white women is a vehicle of oppression (indeed, Malcolm X’s thought provides a lot of insight into the complete annihilation of identity which slavery entails; jettisoning his ‘slave name’ was another manifestation of his countercultural assertion of separate identity).
Lashon Ha-ra fits with the group if we recognize that it doesn’t mean gossip. In fact, there are versions which say ‘lo hilshinu’ – they didn’t slander or incriminate each other. When the Egyptian cops came around with a photo of a wanted Israelite, they got a lot of ‘never seen him before’.
Thus, the sense of this midrash is that the Israelites actively maintained a sense of reactionary ethnic pride in the face of a persecuting and enslaving culture.

The latter Midrash is an expansion of the Sifra which is recited as part of the Haggadah. Some early commentaries, such as Ritv”a, Rashbam, and R”I b. Yakar mention that the Jews wore distinct dress, even suggesting that they wore tzitzit! (as can be seen in the astounding artwork of the Katz Haggadah). The Midrash is describing the manner in which the Israelites remained metzuyanim (or, according to some versions, mesuyamim). This can have one of two connotations (which are similar in English as well): they were distinct or they were distinguished. If the former, then the point of the midrash is that they remained a separate nation even within Egypt – which is even the sense one gets from the verse (“and there they became a nation”). As I mentioned in the previous post, there’s nothing to redeem if there’s no distinct entity. If the former, then it’s suggesting that the Israelites did more than simply maintain an ethnic identity; they remained proud and dignified about it.

Regarding the second question, as folks pointed out in the comments of the previous post, the three elements of the popular version of the midrash already appears in the Abarbanel’s Zevach Pesach, and in a book called the Meturgeman by R’ Elijah (Bachur) Levita, both composed around the late 15th, early 16th centuries.

However, this version doesn’t really ‘take off’ until the 19th century, and following the trail backwards leads to the document I mentioned in the previous post, namely, the Tzava’ah (Ethical Will) of the Chatam Sofer (translated in the work ‘Hebrew Ethical Wills’), in which he instructs his descendants:

Beware of altering your Jewish names, language, and attire. A clue to this is found in the verse, 'Jacob arrived in peace (shalem), in Shechem' (Genesis 33:18) The Hebrew word shalem is a pneumonic (sic) for Shem = name, Lashon = language, Malbush = attire…

His spiritual heirs, which included the Mahara”m Schick and R’ Akiva Yosef Schlesinger, began to take this statement as normative. The Divrei Yatziv, who was Rebbe of the Sanz-Klausenberg Chassidim for the latter part of the 20th Century, invokes this ethical will when prohibiting speech in any language but Yiddish in a Jewish home (though I doubt that Sephardim were part of his intended audience), explicitly mentioning Hebrew and English as verboten alternatives!

R’ Ovadya Yosef (in a Responsum on using the ‘Christian’ secular calendar) mentions these three together, and specifically mentions that they were singled out in the European milieu of emancipation and haskalah, when name, dress, and spoken language became bones of contention between modernizing and reactionary elements of Jewish society. The Chatam Sofer’s instruction (which, incidentally, doesn’t mention the Israelites in Egypt) must be read in this light (which isn’t such a great chiddush).

What I find interesting is that it appears that only after these three cultural elements – name, dress, and language – became rallying cries for the nascent Haredi movement in Austria-Hungary that they were made a part of the movement’s ‘meta-narrative’. In other words, the popular ‘version’ of this Midrash was manufactured by the Haredi movement to see its own values in the very infancy of the Nation of Israel.

Haloscan comments

The Etz HaDaas and Pretty Thoughts

2006-12-19T13:42:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

As I noted here, the Rambam's view of the effect of the Etz HaDaas was to substitute man's cognitive ability to discern objective truth with an ability to make judgments regarding what is appealing.

What does the Rambam mean? Some have suggested that the Rambam is taking an approach similar to the Ramban, who understands "tov v'ra" as referring to "ta'ava" or desire. According to this reading, the Etz HaDaas caused man to follow his passions or desires rather than his intellect.

However, I think the Rambam is saying something different. The Rambam's conception is a profound insight into the nature of human psychology. The brain is essentially a pleasure seeking organ. Much research has been conducted about how people enjoy and are persuaded by marketing pitches or political soundbites that are pleasing to them. In a similar vein, I often find myself in a shiur, reading a book, or just thinking about a problem, when suddenly a beautiful idea emerges resolving a seemingly insurmountable problem. The sensation is no different than hearing a pretty melody or watching a good movie. It's the neurological equiavalent of a backrub.

However, just because a thought is pretty doesn't mean it's correct. The best example I can think of is the attitude of the yeshiva world to the academic study of talmud (a ficitonalized treatment of the topic can be found in Chaimn Potok's The Promise). The dominant approach to gemara study in the yeshiva world today is the "Brisker derech," or some variant of it. This approach seeks to resolve contradicitions or explain disputes in a highly conceptual way. A classic "brisker" shiur might set out a number of seemingly irreconcilable, contradictory positions of the Rambam and resolve them elegantly by providing a single conceptual framework that explains why the Rambam ruled one way in one context and a different way in another.

The acedemic approach, on the other hand, seeks to take into account scholarship regarding the genesis and development of the talmudic text, the society in which rabbinic figures lived, ancient lanuages, etc. Thus, a dispute between between the Rambam and the Rosh may be explained by the different manuscripts prevalent in Spain and Germany rather than a conceptual difference in how each understood, say, the nature of kiddushin. Scholars that follow this approach would scoff at the "brisker" derech as pure sophistry.

However, the academic approach has been rejected by the yeshiva world. Why? Many hashkafic arguments have been invoked, but the real reason is simple -- it delivers less pleasure to the brain. It does not involve pretty thoughts. It is tedious and boring. Even if it were deemed perfectly acceptable, it would not catch on. But is it more correct?

At the risk of pushing this idea too far, I think it has broader implications. Take the Chazal v. Science debate. Were Chazal infallible as to matters of science or not? Clearly there is a basis in the mesorah for either position. How does one account for how people come out on either side of the debate? For the pro-Science crowd (like myself) the answer is simple -- we want our religion pretty. It simply inconceivable for me to accept a assertions regarding religion that contravenes what I view as rational. Whether the issue is taking fantastical misrashim literally, segulahs, or the view of Chazal as brilliant scientists, I instinctively reject them. And I understand there are various approaches which are strictly speaking logical that would allow one to uphold the correctness of Chazal without denying modern science -- such as nishtaneh ha'teva ("nature has changed"). However, I recoil from these ideas. My friend LZ made a comment in response to a particularly extreme statement regarding the infallibility of Chazal which typifies this attitude:

If I actually cared about what some anonymous commenter thinks I think I'd be shaken to the core. If RHS or RAL or someone else whose opinion I seriously respect said such comments I'd probably not be able to sleep again tonight.

Indeed, this is precisely one of the criticisms leveled against Slifkin in the initial "kol kore": ein l'shum adam baaulus al ha'emunah l'shnosah k'dei "l'yafusa" leynei mi shehu. No person has rights over our faith to change it in order to make it "look pretty" for the eyes of others.

By the same token, those on the other side of the debate seem to revel in being machnya their daas to the gadlus of chazal. This comes through clearly in the following words of a commenter on an other blog:

And please do not think that a "frum egyptologist" could ever prove anything about the truth of Mabul or Mitzrayim, which are truths regardless of papyri - regardless of video, if you could produce some - it only proves something about you.

Yes, yes, a thousand times yes: I accept the mesorah as superior to my own senses and judgments.

There seems to be an almost proud, stridency in the manner in which these ideas are expressed, where science and rationalism is rejected in a heroic act of self-abnegation. Ironically, this sort of approach is reflected eloquently in the writings of the icon of Modern Orthodoxy, RYBS, where he describes the "heroic act" of the newly married groom on his wedding retreating from his bride upon the sight of a drop of blood (more on this in a later post).

Thus, for what ever reason, what is "appealing" to the mind of one person may be revolting to another. In either case, the message is that our minds, as powerful as they may be capable, are ultimately imperfect tools that can fool us. The key is to be counscious of the fact that what may be appealing to us may not necessarily be true.

Haloscan comments

Name, Language, and Dress

2006-12-19T13:41:00.001-08:00

ADDeRabbi

I recently got a question from a student, asking where the well-known Rashi that the Israelites didn’t change their names, language, or style of dress in Egypt is located. I wasn’t sure if it was a Rashi or another source, so I started digging.

Amazingly enough, that list first appears in – the ethical will of the Chasam Sofer!

He, and especially his students (Mahara”m Schick and others) were very insistent on preserving various elements of Jewish culture during the upheavals of the 19th Century.

Of course, there are Midrashim that discuss different ways in which the Israelites preserved themselves, and interestingly enough, one of the ways mentioned it that they maintained a distinct diet. They ate different foods than the Egyptians. I think I’ll mention this to anyone who knocks ‘gastronomic Judaism’ or ‘Lox n’ Bagels’ Judaism; according to that particular Midrash (it’s in the Psikta on Devarim, by the vidui bikkurim), dietary habits make the list, but names don’t. Sorry, Shloymie. Give up the Chinese food and we’ll talk.

Regardless, the notion that the Israelites preserved an identity in Egypt is mentioned in the exegetical (tzei u-l’mad) section of the Hagaddah – ‘this teaches that the Israelites remained distinct there’ (especially according to the version that has ‘mesuyamim’ instead of ‘metzuyanim’, but it works either way). The notion that their ultimate salvation was a result of this distinction is also pretty early.

If so, then a) why do we downplay the elements listed (i.e., if a Jew is named Howard, wears business suits, speaks English, and frequents Dougie’s, we don’t really look askance at any of that)? b) how do we reconcile that with the numerous statements that the Israelites were just as bad as the Egyptians, or that they were of the lowest level of ‘tum’ah’ etc.?

I had the following thought, and just saw that it’s echoed by a Romanian poseik, R’ Sperber (not ybl”ch R’ Daniel Sperber of Bar Ilan). The Israelites preserved an ethnic identity. Without anything else to bind them together, they stuck with those basic cultural elements – language, dress, cuisine, etc. – that preserved them as a subgroup. Some form of distinction was necessary if the Israelites were ever to be redeemed. You can’t redeem what doesn’t exist. These elements did not, however, keep them ‘above’ everyone else.

I’ll illustrate by a personal example. I studies at YU. YU is in a neighborhood with ethnic groups who have not changed their names, language, style of dress, or cuisine. Yet, to my knowledge they are not on a very high level of kedusha, at least no more than any other American subgroup.

Haloscan comments

The Akeida, Sodom and the Etz HaDaas

2006-12-19T13:41:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

Many observers have noted the contrast between Avraham’s boldness in his prayer on behalf of the people of Sodom and his submissiveness to God’s command at the Akeda. In the Sodom story, Avraham boldly questions the justice of God’s decree (“shall not the Judge of all the earth do justly?”), yet at the Akeda, the angels question God’s justice (according to this midrash), while Avraham remains silent.

The contrast might be explained by the key difference between the stories. While both involve Divine decrees that conflict on some level with our sense of justice, the Akeda decree is aimed at Avraham (and his son), while Sodom is not.

When Adam and Eve ate from the Etz HaDaas they became “yodei tov v’ra.” What does that phrase mean? Gil at Hirhurim had an interesting post regarding how the Rambam in the Moreh Nevuchim understood tov v’ra. All of the interpretations cited by Gil agree that the Rambam had some sort of subjective judgment in mind - either aesthetic judgment or moral judgment (“proper and improper.”) According to the Rambam, as a result of the etz hadaas, this subjective faculty replaced man’s ability to discern objective truth and falsity.

Whatever the precise articulation of this subjective faculty, I would suggest that the Etz HaDaas didn’t completely displace man’s objectivity , it just diminished and compromised it and subjected it to risk of being skewed by this other subjective “tov v’ra” faculty. Thus, a human being as spritual and lofty as Avraham certainly could apply this objective intellectual faculty, and did so when it came to Sodom.

Not so the Akeida. As the father of Yitzchak, the intended korban, Avraham realized that his intellect was incapable of passing moral judgment on God’s command. In this context, his subjective faculty was so overwhelming that he could not be certain whether any qualms he had regarding God’s command were the result of a subjective judgment or true objective discernment of truth or falsity. This idea is borne out by the Midrash that describes Avraham crying as he stretched out his hand to slaughter his son: “the tears fall on the eyes of Yitzchak from the pity of a father.” His tears are attributed to the pity of a father - Avraham’s subjective sadness over the impending loss of his son. He understood that he was in no position to convert his subjective feelings into a judgment against God. It was left to the angels, who are not subject to this human weakness, to speak up.

Haloscan comments

Put Down the Duckie

2006-12-19T13:40:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

I’d like to mention 3 examples of where children’s literature, though it seems very innocuous, can contain meanings below the surface. Of course, there’s all kinds of stuff out there psychoanalyzing ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ or whatever, and sometimes there nursery rhymes reflect historical memories, like ‘Ring Around the Rosie’. These are three examples that I really like, find interesting, or have a good, Jewish lesson. I’m probably the only yutz in the world who ‘learns’ bedtime stories with his kids. Sheesh. No wonder they can’t fall asleep.

a) Sesame Street aired a song a long time ago called “Put Down the Duckie”. As with many, many Sesame songs, the lyrics are outstanding. In this skit, Mr. Hoots is trying to teach Ernie how to play the saxophone, put since Ernie insists on clutching his little yellow friend, there’s an inevitable squeak which accompanies each chord. Thus, the refrain, “Put down the ducky if you wanna play the saxophone”.

Wise Hoots is pointing to a valuable lesson about human maturity. Intellectual maturity is not an incremental process. Often, it entails jettisoning earlier, preconceived notions about a whole variety of things, some of which can be very dear. Remaining in a very secure but ultimately childish zone can be the most comfortable path, but is also the least rewarding and fulfilling. Indeed, you gotta put down the ducky if you wanna play the saxophone.

b) There’s an old Yiddish song entitled “Hob ich mir a Mantle” (I had an Overcoat). It’s been turned into 2 different children’s books, one called “Something from Nothing” and the other called “Joseph had a Little Overcoat”. I own a copy of the latter, and it’s really well done, especially if you pay attention to the illustrations and newspaper clippings embedded on each page.

The story is about a fellow who has an overcoat which gets worn out, so he turns it into a short jacket, then a vest, a tie, a handkerchief, a bowtie, and finally a button which wears out, leaving the poor schlamazal with nothing at all. So he writes a song about it, proving that you can always make something from nothing. At each phase, the song/story describes the character as doing some activity – visiting his sister in the city, dancing at a wedding, drinking a glass of tea with lemon, etc.

The story is really about modernization, urbanization, and assimilation of traditional East European Jewry into Western Europe/ America. Each successive retrofitting of the original coat (and, of course, a ‘mantle’ has connotations which simply don’t translate into the word ‘overcoat’) describes a weakening of traditions grip on the Jewish people, until all that’s left is a sense of nostalgia. In the version that I own, the artistry really reflects this process. Though the book is upbeat, I find it very painful to read.

c) The last example was brought to my attention a number of years ago by Rabbi Yehuda Rock, now Rosh Kollel in Boca Raton, but who is a far better ‘AddeRabbi’ than I – a true contrarian and creative genius in the reading of texts. My kids know and sing this song now, so I was reminded of this point. It’s about the well-known Israeli nursery rhyme “Nadnedah” – the ‘See-Saw’ song. The composer of this rhyme is none other than the great Hebrew poet Chaim Nachman Bialik, who, as I’ve posted before (almost a year ago. Wow), doesn’t get the credit he deserves as someone who really struggled mightily with questions of religion and whose insight and poetic creativity in describing his own struggle with matters of faith are truly beautiful and heart-wrenching.

It turns out, Bialik is describing the ‘see-saw’ of his own mind when it comes to faith in God. This translation of the brief rhyme doesn’t do justice to the original, but it captures how it can be read as a description of a crisis of faith:

See-saw, see-saw
Descend, ascend, ascend, and descend
What’s above? What’s below?
Just me.
Me and You.
We are both balanced in the scales
Between the Earth and the Heaven

Haloscan comments

Where does God Live? A Reading of Brachot 48a

2006-12-19T13:39:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

[The first Talmudic Reading that I posted, exactly one year ago, was of a narrative on the same Daf as this one. It can be accessed here, and is a personal favorite.]

Abaye and Rava were sitting before Rabbah. Rabbah said to them, “To whom do we pray?”. They said to him, “To The Merciful One.” “And where does The Merciful One live?” Rava gestured toward the rafters. Abaye went outside and gestured toward the Heavens. Rabbah said to them, “You will both be Rabbis”. And so people say, ‘The gourds are known from their sap’.
This is one of my favorite Gemaras to teach. It starts off seeming so silly, and by the end of the lesson, everyone’s blown away. On the surface, I mean, geez, my little kids run around singing Uncle Moishy’s ‘Hashem is here’! What makes Rabbah so proud of Abaye and Rava?

[I should point out that the Tosafot already point out that this Gemara is only linguistically connected to the Halakhic discussion that precedes it, but doesn’t really suggest that little kids can be included in a mezuman.]

Let’s assume that the Gemara is more sophisticated than Uncle Moishy, and that the discussion between the youthful Abaye and Rava, and the question posed by Rabbah, were more than first-grade theology. Furthermore, the method by which Abaye seemingly ‘one-up’s Rava is silly. Why would the Gemara communicate that? Is Abaye really giving a different answer?

Maybe the question is, “Where do you encounter God? Where can you find Him?”

When I pose the question in this format, and ask what the difference between the answers of Abaye and Rava are, it’s like someone turned on a faucet. All kinds of great suggestions simply start spilling out of the students, be they high-school students of adults. They start picking up on the fact that Rava’s approach is more ‘sheltered’ or ‘structured’ or ‘closed’. Rava looks for God in the details, Abaye in the big picture. I’ve had suggestions that Rava is a ‘Misnaged’ and Abaye is a ‘Chussid’, or that Rava is ‘Orthodox’ and Abaye is ‘Reform’, or that Rava is ‘Haredi’ whereas Abaye is ‘Modern Orthodox’, that Rava is like R’ Soloveitchik whereas Abaye is like R’ Kook, or that Rava is the ‘Halakhic Man’ whereas Abaye is ‘Homo Religiosus’, which actually seems to be the suggestion of R’ Kook in Eyn Ayah ad loc. Some have said that Rava is a conformist whereas Abaye is ‘out of the box’. Rava is religious, but Abaye is spiritual. Rava is a learner, but Abaye is a doer (sounds like another Gemara). Rava needs a framework, but Abaye is free-spirited.

The point is, it’s a wonderfully open-ended piece of Agadah (which, according to R’ Kook’s intro to Eyn Ayah, is as it should be) which acknowledges that indeed there are more than one path to God. I don’t think I’d agree with all of the suggestions I elicited, but the fact that a single Gemara can elicit this variety of responses really engenders that sense that indeed there ARE many ways to find God, each of which can be affirmed and developed, and each of which can lead to greatness, and each of which can be tailored to the individual searcher or worshipper.

Haloscan comments

Two cheers for Artscroll

2006-12-19T13:38:00.000-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

Us Mavens agreed that from time to time we would repost blog posts from our other blogs, posts that we feel ought to be considered by a new audience, since the blogsphere is every-changing. This one was posted at On the Main Line seven months ago, which is more like 25 years in the blogosphere.

Dinesh D'Souza was a Ronald Reagan staffer and is an Indian immigrant. He is a bit of a starry eyed America enthusiast -- and why shouldn't he be? In his book What's So Great About America he has a chapter called 'Two Cheers For Colonialism', a provocative title. But he explains inside that Colonialism accomplished great good for the colonized societies. For example, in the country of his birth, India. The British built a railroad system and abolished wife burning. India was left stronger and more ready to confront the world than it had been before. But that said, it wasn't shangri la. Colonialism itself, the stealing of an entire land and the creativity and labor of its people, cannot be excused on the grounds of the greater good. D'Souza says that he fully understands that his grandfather, who experienced it, will always resent the British and never see the good. But that aside, some good obviously came of it and it wouldn't have happened otherwise. That is why D'Souza gives two cheers for colonialism. He cannot give it three, because it was bad. But he gives it two for the good it accomplished. Personally, I think one cheer is more appropriate than two, but I get his point. I guess 'One Cheer For Colonialism' would not have sounded right for his point.

Which leads me to ArtScroll, that publishing house that everyone loves or loves to hate. I give ArtScroll two cheers. It cannot get a third cheer for all the hagiography, the books that they'd never translate (Moreh Nevuchim anyone?), the spin they pull on their works etc. But neverthless there is no one who can say that a tremendous amount of effort does not go into their works. And the fact is that they are making a tremendous amount of Torah primary sources available for all. True, their translations and notes spin the texts in ways they'd like. But who else is doing the work? Is Jacob Neusner's Talmud as good as the Schottenstein Edition?

And to the extent that exasperation with ArtScroll has (or will, or should) drive competition to produce alternative, high quality works in English that is a good thing. In short, would all us ArtScroll detractors not see a void were ArtScroll and all its works to disappear? I think we would.

So two cheers for ArtScroll!

Haloscan comments

December 2005

2006-12-19T09:41:00.000-08:00

Kidushei Ketana: A Case of Halakhic Flexibility?

2006-12-19T09:40:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

To anyone who contends that halakha does not evolve, that it is an unchanging, inflexibile corpus handed down from Har Sinai, I challenge them to explain the following gemara in Kiddushin about one of the rather “icky” halakhic institutions, kedushei ketana, or betrothal of a minor daughter.

The mishna rules as follows:

“a man can betroth his daughter directly or through an agent.”

This ruling comports with the biblical law, which quite plainly recognizes and permits this practice.

The amora, Rav, having no patience for apologizing for what he sees as a bad practice, simply rejects the mishna’s ruling, and the entire practice of kiddushei ketana:

It is forbidden for a father to betroth her while she is a minor until she becomes an adult and declares that she desires her prospective husband.

That’s it. No biblical verse (and certainly many such verses could have been cited), no pithy aggadic sayings, nothing. Just an out and out rejection of of kiddushei ketana. It’s assur.

But that’s not all. Despite the gemara’s prohibition of kiddushei katana, the ba’alei tosafos, aware of the prevalence of the practice in Jewish communities of the time, rule that assur doesn’t really mean assur:

And today, when it is our custom to betroth our daughters even when they are minors, this is because with the passing of each day the exile overwhelms us more and more (hagalus misgaber alenu) and if a man has enough money for a dowry for his daughter, maybe he won’t have that money after the passage of time and his daughter will remain unmarried forever.

Wow. Talk about shidduch crisis.

But seriously, how to understand Rav's rejection of the mishna and Tosfos' rejection of Rav? Note that Rav is the one amora who has the status of a tanna status, so his rejection of the mishna's ruling isn't that odd. In addition, Rav's statement is also quoted in the name of Rabbi Elazar, who I believe is a tanna. Still, we are dealing with a biblically authorized practice. As noted above, one would at least have expected Rav to cite a biblical verse as support for his ruling. The most obvious explanation is that Rav is telling us implicitly that considerations of morality and yashrus can be invoked to prohibit that which is legally permitted. Although no verse is cited, the reason for the prohibition is clear.

As for tosfos: first, tosfos may suggesting that based on the circumstances of their day, the underpinnings of Rav’s ruling no longer applied. Rav reasoned that it was immoral and unethical to force a person into a marriage when her will can’t be taken into account even though the practice was permitted by the Torah. Tosfos is saying that while it is appropriate to apply morality and ethics to forbid the permitted, based on the circumstances of their day, the value of respecting the girl’s will is outweighed by our concern for long term economic welfare. Under prevailing circumstances, the moral calculus yeilds a different result.

A more realistic interpretation of tosfos is that they are simply being melamed z’chus on the Jewish community's de facto rejection of Rav’s ruling by looking for some justification for the practice. The message of tosfos is about the importance of established practice in determining the content of halakha even where it means overturning a clear prohibition.

Haloscan comments

Talmudic Reading of Shabbat 33b-34a: R' Shimon b. Yochai - Part I

2006-12-19T09:39:00.001-08:00

ADDeRabbi

My fellow Mavens and I have discussed reposting some stuff that had been up on our individual blogs that's Maven-worthy, like once a week for each of us, or something like that. I've been working on a series - just posted Part VI at 'home' - expositing the story of R' Shimon b. Yochai. Rather than posting part VI here, I've decided to repost part I on MY, and eventually catch up by the time I've completed the exposition. The story itself serves as a very fruitful paradigm for understanding the interplay between Judaism and a dominating culture.

The text of the narrative can be found in the original here and in English (Soncino) translation here (follow at your own risk; the site itself is an anti-semitic site. It just so happens that they are also the only site with a translation of the Talmud). At times I've taken the liberty of doing my own translations.

To my knowledge, there are two extant expositions of this Talmudic passage. The first is R’ A. Y. Kook’s commentary to the Aggadic sections of Shabbat, Eyn Ayah vol I, which has been translated into English in Bezalel Naor’s Of Societies Perfect and Imperfect. The second treatment is in Jeffrey Rubenstein’s Talmudic Stories. R’ Kook’s exposition is the direct inspiration for my own, though still different enough to warrant a separate treatment. I read Rubenstein’s book only after developing the approach presented here. Nevertheless, by the sheer fact that I am treating this Talmudic narrative as literature, I have assumed one of the basic characteristics of his approach, or of an academic approach in general. I will inevitably incorporate textual and literary considerations that he addresses, but my goals are vastly different from his.

Axiological Assumptions

Two conflicting tasks confront the Talmudic commentator: on one hand, his goal is that of the objective scientist, using objective methodological tools to unravel, to the greatest degree possible, the meaning of the text for its intended audience. Thorough knowledge of the language and culture of the composition, in their broadest sense, is crucial to understand the meaning of any text. By definition, objective text study, to the degree possible, means divorcing one’s self from the normative implications of the subject matter.

At the same time, Torah study[1] is the religious gesture par excellence. The sacred texts where God’s mind and man’s mind meet, and where man employs his God-given intelligence to understand, appreciate, and carry out God’s revealed Will, thereby become the focus of the ongoing relationship between the Creator and His elect.[2] One who studies Torah within this frame of mind will demand meaning and relevance from the text.

Ignoring the former goal, one would run the risk of rendering the Torah irrelevant. The meanings that had been invested in the texts would contribute nothing to any type of contemporary discourse. It would remain a closed book. Those who would purport to ignore objective tools in the name of preserving the integrity of Torah undermine the Torah’s intelligibility, the basis for the ongoing conversation between God and the Israel. Nevertheless, ignoring the devotional elements of Torah study allows the Torah to petrify completely by consigning it to the Department of Ancient Near Eastern Studies. As long as the Jewish people lives, the Torah is its constitution from and covenant with God. Treating it as a dead-letter violates its very essence.

Reading the current segment of the Talmud, as any, is limited by these constraints. This particular segment is unique because it is reflecting upon the very tensions described in the preceding paragraphs. Therefore, the following presentation is both a description and an example of an earnest attempt to mediate the dual constraints of objectivity and relevance.

The Setting

Our story is set in the middle of the 2nd century, CE.[3] The three Rabbis who open the story with their conversation are all considered later students of the great Rabbi Akiba. Although Rome had been a major player in the local politics for nearly two centuries by then, it was only in that generation, after the failure of the Bar Kochba revolt, that the Jews living in the Land of Israel sensed that they were no longer sovereign over their own land, and that they were in a state of unredeemed exile and would remain so for the foreseeable future. For two centuries, Jewish and Roman cultures existed side-by-side, sometimes at war and sometimes at peace. With the failure of Bar Kochba’s revolt, Jewish culture was swallowed entirely into the Roman world, and forfeited its status as an autonomous culture. The task fell to the leaders of that generation to shape the proper attitude toward the newly dominating culture, and it is with this in mind that the story begins.

[1] Torah here is the generic term for any Jewish text whose status is normatively or formatively canonic.
[2] The previous two paragraphs are oversimplifications of two very broad topics – the task of the historian and the nature of Torah study. My purpose is to briefly describe the tensions that characterize the impulse to incorporate both. For a broader description of this interpretive duality, see R’ Kook’s introduction to Eyn Ayah. On the necessary interdependence of these two general tasks, see Eyn Ayah to Brachot 45a, s.v. ‘eyn ha-meturgeman’.
[3] The importance of the setting is not to establish or posit its literal historical value. Rather, the setting of the story will indicate to the reader (or originally, listener) to recall the collective memories of that period and its traumas, triumphs, and dilemmas. As I hope to demonstrate, the generation in which the story is set is of extreme significance to understanding the story itself. The historical ‘data’ that I marshal here is to characterize the way that composers of the story would have retrospectively viewed the generation in question. Each bit of information can be substantiated as part of Chazal’s (the generic term I shall use for the formulators of Rabbinic literature) understanding of the period discussed.

Haloscan comments

Why blog?

2006-12-19T09:39:00.000-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

An interesting post at the Biblical Theology blog called 'Why blog?'.

His three reasons:

Facts are facts, I think. The first fact that is inescapable, is that, no matter how long we live, we will all one day die. Given that fact, many of us of something of an intellectual bent or possessed by academic inclinations wish to produce something that will outlive us, validate our lives, and provide at least some sort of legacy and memory.

Fact two- none of the books we write or the papers we will present will be remembered, or read, in 50 years. Most of what we produce on paper will be unavailable except from obscure bookshops in 10 years. In 5 years, the books we must have and must read will be gathering dust. The fact that Luther and Calvin and Zwingli and Augustine are still read and valued proves this rule- since there scarcely seem to be any Luthers or Zwinglis around any more. Even Barth's memory is beginning to fade; his name is unknown to most people, most Christians, some theologians, and a ton of Biblical scholars. Brunner, too, suffers the same fate- but worse. In the next 30 years Bultmann and Strauss will be nothing more than mere historical curiosities. As much as it might pain us to think so, our much vaunted, highly priced, studies of the "entrails of the gnat" will rot in forgottenness before our own lives end.

Fact three- the birth of the internet and discussion lists and web publishing and yes, even blogs, has given many of the formerly voiceless a voice and those with a voice for a small and secluded local audience, a worldwide platform from which to share their ideas, research, and perspective. But as all of us know, the dreaded "page not found" error message shows that things once available become, in an instant, unavailable. That is, even the internet does not provide immortality (though it does offer the opportunity for data storage of a more permanent nature).

But what the internet does do is allow widespread dissemination of thought. And though that thought may one day be lost or discarded on the main server, someone, somewhere, may have "saved a copy" on their hard drive and thus one remains "alive" through one's work- immortal.

Immortality. That's why.

I'm not really sure that immortality comes into it much for me. I am not a published author or an academic who frets about months or even years of labor being consigned to nothing and I don't feel that the most important things in life are that strangers will know what I thought once I'm gone from this earth.

For me the third reasons ring especially familiar, with elements of the second as well.

I also have to mention that in our own communities, one doesn't have to go back to the 16th century or the 5th to find exceptions that prove the rule. This is indeed a major, major strength.

Haloscan comments

The Long and Short of the Ba’al Teshuvah Experience

2006-12-19T09:38:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

This past Shabbos, while schmoozing with a scholar-in-residence and a local student, the student made a point which he thought was pragmatic, and I thought pointed to a very fundamental reality. This particular student comes from a non-observant but traditional Conservative home. Over the past couple of years, especially in college, he has become steadily more involved with the Orthodox community. Nevertheless, he probably would resist identifying himself as ‘Orthodox’ for a variety of reasons, not least of which is that he hasn’t really bought into all of the ‘dox’. He gave two main reasons for his attraction to Orthodoxy:

Its emphasis on life-long learning

The closeness of Orthodox communities

I told him that those 2 reasons were at the top of my list as well (and in fact I blogged a similar point from R’ Kook’s writing here). In other words, for this student, and for many others that I’ve met over the years, the process by which one joins the Orthodox community is very gradual and devoid of experiences that one might call ‘Conversion Experiences’.

I remember another occasion when I was on a Beis Din for a giyur of a young gentleman who, while becoming more involved in observance, recognized that the giyur that a matrilineal ancestor underwent was entirely insufficient. The Av Beis Din (who, I guarantee, is accepted across the board) asked all of the questions about accepting the mitzvoth, easy ones and hard ones, and summed up by asking if this young man undertakes to be an Orthodox Jew to the best of his ability. He responded that he’s uncomfortable with the label ‘Orthodox’. The Av Beis Din then reformulated the question, asking if the young man undertakes to live a halakhic lifestyle to the best of his ability, to which he answered in the affirmative, and, to make a long story short, the giyur was fine. Again, for this young man, the process was gradual and devoid of conversion experiences.

This isn’t just a ‘one-step-at-a-time’ approach; that approach, which is also pretty common, can mean that one accepts the truth of something, but hasn’t yet overcome old habits enough to implement it. I’m trying to describe a process in which there’s no ‘jump’ or ‘leap’, rather a continuum of natural development.

I find this type of ‘Ba’al Teshuva Story’ to be much more inspiring than instances which involve running away from or rejecting a prior lifestyle. It strikes me as a more complete, organic, and individuated process with a very high rate of ‘mainstreaming’.

I’ll close by citing two high-profile examples which I find to be particularly inspiring:
The first is the noted klezmer artist Andy Statman. After he had already become an accomplished jazz and bluegrass musician, and had decided to explore his own Jewish roots through klezmer, he began a journey which took him to the roots of klezmer in Chassidic niggunim, and as he deepened and developed his own musical style, he became a chassid himself. I’m oversimplifying, but the upshot is that what brought him ‘tachat kanfei ha-shechina’ was a natural progression of what he already had become.

The second example that comes to mind is the late French-Jewish philosopher and activist Benny Levy. A pupil of Levinas and Sartre, his own penetration into the quandaries of existential philosophy led him back to the Judaism that he forsook in his youth. I think that he’s the person who the main character in the central novella of Sabato’s ‘Emet me-Are”tz Titzmach’ (Aleppo Tales) is based.

Haloscan comments

The Slifkin Affair: A Post Mortem

2006-12-19T09:37:00.001-08:00

Krum as a bagel

Last week marked a rather depressing end to the Slifkin affair. Or at least the end of a chapter. I am not sure these recent events have been fully digested by the pro-Slifkin camp, whose attitude has been characterized by an almost comical sort of self-denial throughout. I include myself in that category, by the way. I hesitate to blog about this because my own thoughts on the matter are not fully developed, but if my thoughts were fully developed, I wouldn't be blogging, right?

From the first issuance of the ban back in fall 2004, those in the charedi world who felt blindsided by the apparent prohibition on beliefs they understood to be legitimate with support in the masora twisted themselves into pretzels trying to explain why Slifkins views were still valid despite the ban:

They never said the books were kefira, right? Just assur. Oh, they said kefira? I mean they never said he was a kofer, just that he was a person with kefiradik views. Right? They never said I would burn in hell if I read it.

R' So-and-so told me in private that he really really is against the ban, but just won't say it publicly.

I heard that R' So-and-so is going to issue a letter next week saying it was all a big misunderstanding.

I spoke with someone who testified that R Elyushiv was being sarcastic. It was all a monty python-esque spoof. His barber told me that he can recite the entire Life of Brian backwards.

If you take R' Elyashiv's letter and fold it like so and put in on your head, it looks more like a hat than a ban.

The ban was never issued in Chinese so they couldn't have really meant it.

The response from the Gedolim was close to unambiguous:

WHAT PART OF ASSUR DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!?

R' Aharon Feldman subsequently clarified that R' Elyashiv stands by the ban and so does he. R' Shternbuch indicated his support as well. R' Feldman and R' Shternbuch both attempted to give the much requested justification for the ban. Instead, more than anything, these letters showed that the Gedolim are not used to having to explain themselves clearly and coherently. No retractions of the ban or clear statements of support from other cheradi gedolim were forthcoming. In an almost Orwellian manner, institutions such as Aish HaTorah stopped teaching that the world could be billions of years old and many rabbonim in kiruv publicly renounced views they had previously espoused. And then a couple of weeks ago, any remaining doubt was removed when three Major League Gedolim who had not signed the ban, including R' Shmuel Kaminetsky, a Godol with impeccable credentials, whose haskama of his books was the main Charedi pillar of support fo Slifkin, all condemned him.

Quite predictably, even then the pro-Slifkin crowd (including me) questioned the autheticity of R' Shmuel's signature. But then reports issued confirming that the signature was valid.

So where does that leave us? It means that anyone who continues to count themselves as part of the "follow the Gedolim" Charedi world, the world of the Yated and the HaModia, the world of the Mo'etses Gedolei Torah, has to subscribe to a sort of Da'as Torah on steroids. Not only are the views of the Gedolim on any topic authoritative and binding, but the gedolim are empowered to uproot the mesora. This was a central point of R' Moshe Shternbuch's letter (hattip to R' Daniel Eidensohn who makes a similar point at Avodah):

Furthermore these people mistakenly think they have found support for their views amongst our traditional sources. In fact, however, we are obligated to always give precedent to Daas Torah. These are the accepted mainstream Torah views expressed in the Talmud as well as the writings of the great rabbis through the ages. Only those views which have been widely accepted are valid - and not minority views that have been rejected or ignored.

A similar point was made in R' Aharon Feldman's letter, namely that the "revelation" of the Arizal showed that the view among Rishonim that Chazal erred in matters of science was no longer acceptable. I have heard similar things over the last few weeks, like its assur to criticize the Avos without a source in Chazal, and that its assur to offer an explanation of a pasuk contrary to a Chazal, even though the Rishonim did both things fairly regularly. What is happening is a displacement of Judaism of the Rishonim with the Judaism of the Gedolim. The legacy of the Rishonim was truly diverse and rich: they hailed from Spain, the Middle East, from Italy, from France and Germany. They included figures such as the Rambam and the Ramban who truly did have mastery over the secular knowledge of their time in additon to a mastery of the Torah. Their replacement: a narrow group of Israeli and American Torah scholars who all went to nearly identical yeshivas and are all more or less similarly uninformed regarding secular knowledge.

This is why I think the affair is over as far as the Charedi world is concerned. Even if the Pro-Slifkin crowd's fantasy were realized -- an Edah-style public roundtable discussion involving all of the Gedolim regarding the ban -- the result would be the same. There is no way to reason with this type of thinking because it is self executing. It's assur because R' Elyashiv and the other Gedolim said so and no marshalling of sources or logical argumentation can change that.

For many, this is may not be relevant. There is thankfully a diversity of rabinnical views out there, rabbis who have a narrower view of what Daas Torah means. Rabbis who follow the footsteps of the Rishonim, and who value rationalism and science. And these rabbis are not only in YU, but can be found in Charedi yeshivos as well. But to follow them means rejecting the hashkafa of R' Shternbuch, R' Elyashiv, R' Perlow, R' Dovid Feinstein, rabbonim who I and many others follow on issues of halakha and respect greatly.

There. That's my last Slifkin post. (Until my next one :-)).

Haloscan comments

Did the Chafetz Chaim say "Kook shmook"?

2006-12-19T09:37:00.000-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

No.

Without dredging up the old Frumteens controversy, Rael Levinsohn posts a letter from R. Aharon HaKohen, son-in-law of the Chafetz Chaim, to R. Kook in 1928 which clarifies his father-in-law's attitude towards R. Kook.

Let's just say the assertion by the Frumteens moderator that the Chafetz Chaim dismissed R. Kook saying, "Kook, shmook" (e.g., schmuck בלע"ז) is quite impossible and seems definitely refuted. Rav Aharon HaKohen
Author of the book ‘Avodat HaKorbanot’
Son in law of the Gaon Israel Meir HaKohen Shlit”a author of the book Chafetz Chaim and Mishna Brura
Tel Aviv, Eretz Yisrael

With Hashem’s help, 5688 (1928)

Even though my heart was always greatly pained when people who claim to be observant of Torah and mitzvoth dare to disparage the brilliant and righteous, pious and modest, leader of the land of Israel, our teacher Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook Shlit”a – I refrained from public protest regarding the honor of the Torah. [This is because] I know that my master and teacher, the Chafetz Chaim Shlit”a – who honors and is very fond of the honorable Gaon Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Shlit”a and whose heart was greatly sickened when he heard of the persecutions against [the Rav] – did not come out with public rebuke regarding this, saying that silence regarding such matters and the reduction of their publicity is [the proper way] to repair them – [that is] to lessen and reduce their value. (nevertheless, no one dares utter words of disparagement against our teacher Rav Avaraham Yitzchak HaKohen Shlit”a in front of our master[, the Chafetz Chaim,] and he would turn his eyes with contempt from any posters [disparaging Rav Kook -ed]).

However, when I recently saw that a periodical that has appeared – which arrogantly dares to call itself “meeting place of the sages” – wrote horrible, cursed, and blasphemous words against our teacher Rav Avaraham Yitzchak HaKohen Shlit”a – [words which] are forbidden to even put in print – I find it a holy obligation in my soul not to be silent (as is explicit in the Rambam הלכות ת"ת פ"ו הל' יא-יב). [This is because] someone who disparages a Torah scholar has no portion in the world to come, and is in the category of one who “despises the Word of Hashem” (כי דבר ה' בזה), and we are obligated to banish him. [And this is especially true regarding] this brilliant and pious [rav] – that it is forbidden to remain silent [on this matter] and we must go out and rebuke this humiliation of the Torah, and join ourselves to the protest and great anger of the rabbis and sages of the Holy Land and the exile regarding these words of villainy. [Thus] we should not see [that which is] Holy destroyed, G-d Forbid.

And may Hashem, may His Name be Blessed, remove the disgrace from the children of Israel and raise the honor of our Holy Torah. These are the words [of one] who writes with a wounded and agitated heart regarding the honor of our holy Torah which is [being] given over to disgrace.

Aharon HaKohen
Son in law of the brilliant Rav, the righteous Chafetz Chaim, Shlit”a

Haloscan comments

Reading of Shabbat 31a, Part II

2006-12-19T09:36:00.001-08:00

ADDeRabbi

[continued from here]

Now that the context and character of this/these stories has/have been set out, the interpretations of the stories themselves becomes much more focused. Here’s an English translation (Soncino) of the text under discussion (From ‘Our Rabbis taught on 31a).

In each of these stories, the potential ger is motivated to find his way ‘under the wings of the Shechinah’, but is also held back by certain barriers. Whereas Shammai disqualifies each for not having what it takes, Hillel works with the individual until the barriers are overcome.

The following is my own attempt to make literary and religious sense out of each episode, and shouldn’t be read as an attempt to define the authoritative meaning of the texts. If my readings seem somewhat autobiographical, well, it’s to be expected:

Why would a person coming in off the street ask “How many Torahs/Teachings do you have?”? Furthermore, if one of us were asked such a question, how many of us would answer like Shammai, and how many would go with the more intuitive answer of “One”? It seems that he’s looking for something authoritative. THE Truth. The Singular, Unadulterated, Immaculate Word of God. Shammai makes it clear to him that there’s really no such thing in Judaism. Sure, we have such a text, but that text isn’t the sole basis for Jewish worship. The Gentile only wishes to encounter the Word directly, and have no truck with anything that might have been corrupted by human fallibility. Hillel’s lesson is less about the authority of the Oral Law and more about the need to trust and rely on fellow human beings in the search for religious meaning; there is no encounter with God, or with His Truth, which is not filtered through human beings. Nevertheless, Hillel recognized that the Gentile’s impulse was good, though immature.
The second, and probably most famous of these episodes, involves the Gentile who asks to be taught the Torah while he stands on one foot. The expression ‘al regel achat’ has entered modern Hebrew from this narrative as an expression of extreme brevity. What’s this fellow looking for? He wants to learn the whole Torah, but as he stands on one foot. He’s tougher to profile, as this can be the result of a number of factors and a combination thereof. Perhaps he’s simply a shallow thinker, who needs a slogan, a bumper sticker. Perhaps he knows that he’s got no attention span to sit and learn. Perhaps, beyond both of these, stands an ‘activist’. He’s a ‘doer’, not a ‘learner’, and he needs a slogan that can become his raison d’etre. Shammai and Hillel, we’ll assume, are both aware of the irreducibility of the Torah to mere slogans. Shammai even uses a ‘yardstick’ to drive the person away – an instrument of precision and insistence upon detail – as if his medium is itself his message. Hillel, however, sees someone who is restless and driven and in search of a cause to devote his life to. In a brilliant move, Hillel responds to this ‘activist’ by giving him a ‘passive’ cause, and then encouraged him to explore it further on its own. This guy’s rarin’ to go do ‘Tikkun Olam’ (said with the best American accent) and Hillel throws a monkey wrench into his thinking by suggesting that the Torah’s purposes are fulfilled by what we don’t do as much, if not more, than by what we do, in the human sphere. Must’ve confused the heck out of the guy, putting in position indeed, to continue his studies.
The third Gentile, I’m convinced, really was Jewish from the outset, because I believe that he had a Jewish mother. He comes in with the attitude of “I can be whatever I want to be, as long as I put my mind to it”. If he’s impressed by the pomp and circumstance surrounding the High Preist, and that’s what he wants to do, then by golly he can do it and nobody can tell him otherwise. There are really two issues with this fellow: one is that he doesn’t have the lineage to be the High Preist. The second, which isn’t really addressed by the Gemara, is that his attraction to Judaism is the funky priestly J-bling. Even if the first reason can be overcome, the second issue seems to be a far more serious problem. Cool Chai necklaces isn’t necessarily the best reason to become Jewish. Hillel, however, saw something beyond. The priestly garments and the pomp surrounding their ceremony, is not for the glory of the wearer, rather, for the Glory of God – kavod u-tiferet in the words of the Chumash. The guards at Buckingham Palace – you know, the fellows with the spodeks – are ‘honor gaurds. The ceremony and pomp surrounding their uniforms are not their own glory, but reflect the glory of something much greater than themselves. I think this would be more akin to someone saying that they have ambition to become a baseball player so that they can don the revered Yankee pinstripes. Hillel takes a very sound educational approach: let the learner discover for himself what his own shortcomings are. If one aspires to be a doctor, let them take organic chemistry. It has this amazing ability to weed out the underqualified, more than a heart-to-heart-you-don’t-have-what-it-takes speech. Hillel encourages him. Once he begins studying, he realizes how far away he is. He’s ‘coming with his staff and wallet’. He’s eaten his humble pie. He tells Shammai his chiddush; amazing how with people like this the only way for something to register is for them to learn it on their own. Yet, Hillel, even with this fellow, found a way to bring him under the wings of the Shekhinah.

Haloscan comments

The Conversion Experience

2006-12-19T09:36:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

When referring to gerim and the process of giyur, the terms are often translated as ‘converts’ and ‘conversion’. Probably because nobody knows what the hell a ‘proselyte’ is. Had I not grown up on the Blackman Mishnayoth, I’d think it’s the opposite of an electrolyte, but I digress.

The term ‘conversion’ implies a radical break, and rather instantaneous. The paradigm ‘conversion experience’, for William James, the father of comparative religion, is Saul of Tarsus (aka St. Paul) beholding the vision of Jesus on the road to Damascus. He’s not the same after the experience.

If the issue were belief, then I suppose a conversion can happen fairly instantaneously. I don’t believe in Jesus. BAM! Now I believe in Jesus. By the yidden, the process is far different. One can experience an epiphany and decide to believe in the Torah and the Covenant, but for us that’s just the beginning.

I think Chazal were onto something when they referred to ‘Jews by Choice’ as ‘gerim’. The term literally means ‘immigrants’ (not ‘strangers’ as is often translated). The process of becoming Jewish is very similar to the process of immigrating which, incidentally, is a highly traumatic experience. It means learning a new language, culture, attitudes, laws, you name it. Granted, there is a ‘moment’ when the legal (read: Halakhic) status of the ger changes from non-Jew to Jew, but the process is really much longer than that.

To illustrate, compare the process of giyur to the process of naturalization. In the US, the process of naturalization culminates with conferral of legal citizenship by the court. In halakha, a beit din confers the status of ‘ben brit’ upon the ger. In both, there is an agreement to protect and uphold the Law (Constitution/Torah) of the nation, and a binding of one’s fate with the fate of that nation. The parallels here are stronger than parallels to other types of religious conversion.

I find this line of reasoning helpful when trying to explain a) why being Jewish isn’t simply a matter of ‘personal choice’ or ‘identification’; citizenship (or enfranchisement) is a real, legal construct which has broad consensus and must be conferred by a representative body of the absorbing nation; b) why Orthodoxy doesn’t accept heterodox conversions.

Another implication is that nowadays, the baal teshuvah experience can also be a process akin to immigration, just without the issues of personal status (kinda like making Aliyah). Thinking about it in this way can help identify what some of the attractions and difficulties of taking on a Halakhic lifestyle involves.

Haloscan comments

R' Elyashiv on Passing Judgment on Books

2006-12-19T09:35:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

Over at Krum, I posted a letter of R' Aharon Feldman recently printed in a number of Israeli newspapers regarding R' Elyashiv's views on rabbinic judgment of books. As I noted, the contrast with the process that led to the ban on R' Slifkin's writings is quite stark. For the benefit of the Maven readership, a rough translation:

This to certify that yesterday I asked Rabbi Elyashiv shlit"a about his opinion on the books regarding marital issues by Tehila Abramov. He answered me that he approved of the books [lit.: leaned his hands on them] after they (including the english editions) were subjected to examination by a bes din of experts which did not find in them any flaw except for a number of minor matters that were corrected in the new edition. And I am certain that those that oppose the books have not read them and we should not rely on their opinions.

Haloscan comments

Talmudic Reading of Shabbat 31a, Part I

2006-12-19T09:34:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

Fellow Maven Freddie Mac recently posted here about a relatively well-known Talmudic narrative about a potential proselyte who doesn’t want to hear about the Oral Law, who Shammai rejects and Hillel accepts and convinces of the need for an Oral Law as well. Much of Fred’s discussion centered on the logic of Hillel’s argument for Torah She-be’al peh.

In general, I believe that a literary approach to these narratives are more fruitful than attempts to reduce them to philosophy. The philosophical merit of Hamlet’s reasons for and against suicide are secondary to the literary power of his soliloquy. So, too, or even kal va-chomer, the first analysis of this narrative (actually, a set of three different stories about Hillel, Shammai, and potential proselytes) should address the human story portrayed, attempt to understand the characters, etc. Fred’s post contains the original and translated text under discussion, so there’s no need to reproduce it here.

The over-arching theme of this story, which is clear from its context within the broader sugya, is a contrast between the attitudes of Hillel and Shammai. In all three episodes, Hillel is the patient, sensitive, and understanding hero, whereas Shammai rejects these people immediately.

In each story, a non-Jew comes before these Sages requesting to become Jewish, but with ridiculous auxiliary requests:

on condition that I only study the Written Law

on condition that you teach me the entire Torah while standing on one leg

on condition that I become the High Priest

The first question that must be asked, for each story, is, “What is motivating this person?” Where’s he coming from? As a rabbi, and as one who is addressed with a range of questions, it’s easy to forget that behind the question or request stands a human being, and that my job is not to resolve the question as though it’s a Sudoku, but to address the human being who is bothered enough to ask the LOR. Sometimes the most difficult situations arise in connection with those who are most distant from my ‘four cubits’. I’ve screwed up conversations with potential converts who have no interest in Halakhic praxis and with fiancées of Jews, to name a couple. It’s simply not easy to understand where they’re coming from.

In that sense, I wonder if Shammai really behaved like such a ‘jerk’, or if these people simply didn’t have the tools to understand what he was saying, and only saw the rejection. The end of this Talmudic unit which describes a conversation between the three converts, would make that reading plausible.

Hillel, on the other hand, invites each of them to continue, works with them, converts them, and eventually (presumably) they come around. Hillel took them seriously. But beyond that, it’s fair to ask what exactly he saw. Why was he willing to convert them?

We’ll find out in Part II.

Haloscan comments

Slifkin-palooza

2006-12-19T09:33:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

Three new anti-Slifkin letters are out. More to come later, but here is a summary:

Shorter R' Perlow: Don't think I like the guy. Not Kefirah but bad for the mesorah. Not telling you why.

Shorter R' Aaron Schechter: I don't either like him. Not Kefirah but against the Torah. Not telling you why.

Shorter R' Shmuel Kaminetsky: What R' Aaron said.

Shorter R' Shlomo Miller: Kefirah, kefirah, kefirah. Not telling you why and don't have to because Slifkin's a Rasha. And, by the way, the Gra knew quantum mechanics.

P.S. Does anyone else find the appearance of R' Shmuel's signature on R' Aaaron's letter slightly fishy?

Haloscan comments

Jewish Men and Their Mothers

2006-12-19T09:31:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

There is an old stereotype about Jewish men wanting to marry women just like their mother which I found echoed twice in the first few parshas of sefer Bereshis:

1. "Therefore will a man leave his father and mother and cling to his wife and behold they shall be as one flesh." (2:24)

What does "one flesh" mean? Rashi says one flesh refers to children. Children are one flesh comprising each of their parents.

The Ramban, however, rejects this approach. One flesh, according to the Ramban, refers to the closeness associated with familial relationship. The pasuk is saying that a man will leave the "flesh" of his mother an father and replace it with another familial relationship - that with his wife.

Here the focus is on relationship. A person craves the feeling of familial relatedness and when he leaves his family he seeks to recreate it with someone else.

In the second one, the stress is different:

2. "And Yitzchak brought her [Rivkah] into the tent of Sarah and he took Rivka and she was for him a wife, and he loved her and behold Yitzchack was consoled over his mother." (24:64)

In this posuk the identification between wife and mother is even stronger. First, the father is out of the picture. Second, the pasuk is suggesting that Rivka takes the place of Sarah in Yitzchack's mind. Rivka fills the void left by the loss of his mother.

Indeed this is Rashi explanation. He breaks up the phrase "ha-ohala Sarah" into two: "he brought her into the tent and she was Sarah, meaning that she took on the appearance ("dugmas") of Sarah his mother." The reference to Sarah is not to the tent but to Rivka's appearance.

Its hard not to link the fact of Yitzchak's finding confort in Rivka with the "resemblance" between her and Sarah. Which is weird if you consider that his finding comfort follows the phrase "and he took her for a wife and he loved her." Reach your own conclusions.

Yet resemblence need not be taken to mean physical resemblence. In fact, Onkeles translates "v'ha taknin ovadaha k'ovdei Sarah": "her deeds were proper like the deeds of Sarah." We are talking about a similarity in behavior and personality.

Thus, in the second pasuk in contrast to the first, the stress is not on the relationship itself but on the object of the relationship. Yitchak craved a wife that would be like his mother and only then would he find comfort.

But ultimately we can't possibly separate the two. A person's image of who his mother (or father) is is inextrixcably entwined with the very profound and deep relationship he had with her over the course of a childhood.

And there's the rub. To a wife, her husband's mother is just a lady she met as an adult relatively recently. She cannot fathom who this person is as a mother to her husband. Nor can she be expected to.

Just a thought.

Haloscan comments

November 2005

2006-12-19T09:30:00.000-08:00

On Torah she-be-'al peh

2006-12-19T09:29:00.000-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

Zogt di Gemora:

ת"ר מעשה בנכרי אחד שבא לפני שמאי אמר לו כמה תורות יש לכם אמר לו שתים תורה שבכתב ותורה שבעל פה א"ל שבכתב אני מאמינך ושבעל פה איני מאמינך גיירני ע"מ שתלמדני תורה שבכתב גער בו והוציאו בנזיפה בא לפני הלל גייריה יומא קמא א"ל א"ב ג"ד למחר אפיך ליה א"ל והא אתמול לא אמרת לי הכי א"ל לאו עלי דידי קא סמכת דעל פה נמי סמוך עלי:

Our Rabbis taught: A certain heathen once came before Shammai and asked him, 'How many Toroth have you?' 'Two,' he replied: 'the Written Torah and the Oral Torah. 'I believe you with respect to the Written, but not with respect to the Oral Torah; make me a proselyte on condition that you teach me the Written Torah [only]. [But] he scolded and repulsed him in anger. When he went before Hillel, he accepted him as a proselyte. On the first day, he taught him, Alef, beth, gimmel, daleth; the following day he reversed [them] to him. 'But yesterday you did not teach them to me thus,' he protested. 'Must you then not rely upon me? Then rely upon me with respect to the Oral [Torah] too. (trans. Soncino version)

(Shabbos 31A)

I would venture to say that this piece is so well known that it is a famous Gemara, if you will. Generally the incident is cited in support of what we might call the Torah she-be-'al peh doctrine of rabbinic Judaism. The incident could happen today. The only trouble is that it simply isn't so that only a ba'al masorah could teach Aleph-Bet and teach it correctly. It isn't so today and it wasn't so the day that Hillel taught the potential convert to say Aleph, Bet, Gimmel, Daleth.

So what's peshat? If we wish we can work backwards and say that my objection is illusory. Hillel said it, ergo it is an airtight container of proof for TSHBP. That seems unsatisfactory for obvious reasons. After all, it may have convinced the nakhri in the incident (actually, the Gemara doesn't say--I suppose we may presume that it did, or else Hillel's reply could hardly have been considered a successful answer to the challenge). If so, how could Hillel have given an ultimately unsatisfactory proof for TSHBP?

Perhaps we can say the following. Hillel wasn't giving proof at all. The doctrine of Torah she-be-'al peh is clearly integral to rabbinic Judaism (I add the 'rabbinic' caveat only to forestall any objections, but the facts are that TSHBP is a ubiquitous element of Judaism. The exceptions are exceptions, and obviously the parameters of TSHBP is subject to healthy debate in the sources, traditional and non-traditional). But ultimately TSHBP is faith based. Whatever proof one can offer, there are replies, and replies convincing enough that TSHBP is evidently not a given.

The proselyte could have gone to a Sadduccee and been converted and also taught the Aleph-Bet correctly. It doesn't follow that because he has to rely on Hillel, ergo "there are two Toroths", as the Gm' puts it.

However, the point is that he went to Hillel. This is what he wanted in on. If you go to Hillel, if you want to join our club then you must ultimately trust our interpretations and traditions. What other option is there?

Haloscan comments

The First FFB

2006-12-19T09:28:00.001-08:00

ADDeRabbi

Having read an intriguing series of posts from Rebeljew on the Ba’al Teshuvah experience, reminded me that the experience of FFBs presents its own set of challenges. For a number of years, I have seen Yitzchak Avinu, the world’s first FFB, as a paradigm for those challenges, especially as his experience unfolds in this week’s parsha, Toldot. Please bear in mind that this in no way exhausts the potential to read Yitzchak in this light, rather represents some of my own somewhat disjointed thoughts on the issue.

This parsha tells Yitzchak’s story. Abraham’s death is recorded at the end of last week’s parsha even though he lived to see the events at the beginning of this week’s. Once he ‘passed the torch’ to Yitzchak after his marriage to Rivkah, and his story is no longer relevant to the continuity of God’s covenant with man. Yishmael, the rejected son of Abraham, is given short shrift, so that the story of Yitzchak can begin. The same pattern repeats at the end of Vayishlach and beginning of Vayeshev, ayen sham, ve-acamo”l.

Yitzchak’s story is summed up it the first verse of the Parsha: This is the story of Yitzchak, the son of Avraham; Avraham begat Yitzchak.

That’s who Yitzhcak was, Avraham’s kid. Rashi directs us to a Midrash here that states that Avraham and Yitzchak were virtually indistinguishable, so there would be no room for cynics to suggest that Yitzchak was the son of anyone else. The Midrash communicates the latent message of this verse – that Yitzchak’s entire life, entire experience, goals, attitudes, and even the way he presented himself, were strongly shaped by his upbringing in the house of Avraham.

It’s not easy to be ‘The Rabbi’s Kid’. Dad’s the guy who hears the Voice of God, but the kid’s the one who ends up getting sacrificed. From a very young age, the pressure to speak and act in a particular way are enormous, as everyone has different expectations from ‘The Rabbi’s Kid’. I’ve seen with my own two eyes how two students may be carrying on in the exact same manner, but the Rabbi’s Kid is singled out because he ‘ought to know better’. The kid would wish nothing more that to simply be like everyone else, with little or no expectations.

In a sense, every FFB is a ‘Rabbi’s Kid’, to the extent that they live in a culture where they are keenly aware that they have different expectations from those in the surrounding culture. The child is tethered to the values and behaviors of the parents, with little or no opportunity to discover for themselves what would make a person desire or choose this awkward lifestyle.

In the second verse of the Parsha, Yitzchak’s experience is contrasted by the experience of Rivkah, the ultimate NCSY story. Again Rashi points us in this direction; she was born to a wicked man, in a wicked place, and had a wicked brother. She walked 9 miles each way to the synagogue, both ways uphill, in 2 feet of snow, yadda, yadda, yadda. She’s the ultimate Ba’alat Teshuva, having had no expectations given her upbringing.

But in the third verse, again, taking Rashi’s approach, we see that this introduction was almost a set-up for what ensues. When they pray for a kid, Yitzchak is answered, not Rivkah. Someone who overcame so much and someone who was given everything on a silver platter, and the latter’s prayers are more powerful. Rashi even tells us that prayer of a 'tzaddik ben rasha’ – the righteous the son of the wicked – is qualitatively inferior to prayer of a ‘tzaddik ben tzaddik’ – the righteous the son of the righteous. Why?

I’ve heard in the name of R’ Simcha Zissl of Kelm that the key term is ‘tzaddik ben tzaddik’ and not just ‘ben tzaddik’. The process by which ‘the son of the righteous’ who, by default, by habit, would be acting in a manner that would be consistent with ‘righteousness’ at conventionally understood. It’s no small matter for a person to become a ‘tzaddik ben tzaddik’.

Religious growth can be conceptualized into two categories – change which manifests externally and change which does not manifest externally. Rivkah always had a ‘foil’, a starting point against which to gauge her growth. Yitzchak had no such luxury. If he was to grow and mature as a religious person, any change would be completely invisible to the world. It is a process which requires a great degree of self-awareness, to distinguish between elements of one’s personality which are habit, and those which have been freely affirmed. There is a certain comfort in ‘externalizing’ one’s religious growth, which can be seen regularly in the contemporary Orthodox community. This implicitly recognizes that interior growth with no external manifestation is very, very, difficult to affect and engenders constant insecurity with one’s own religious state.

The verb ‘to pray’, in Hebrew, is reflexive. Jewish tradition has understood prayer as a process of self-discovery and self-judgment. The prayer of a tzaddik ben tzaddik is indeed a potent prayer.

Yitzchak’s personality, in the Jewish mystical tradition, is connected to the process of ‘judgment’, again reflecting the process of ‘pure judgment’ by which he must scrutinize himself.

He is seen as the originator of the mincha prayer – said at a time where both the sudden clarity of morning and the confusion and darkness of night are absent. There’s light, but it’s old light.

Yitchak follows in his fathers footsteps, struggling against adversity to dredge the wells that his father had originally dug. Is that not the ultimate FFB experience? Redigging our fathers’ wells? Trying to rediscover the freshness and life within them?

Haloscan comments

Ramban v. Midrash: Where was Avraham Coming From?

2006-12-19T09:28:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

REVISED SLIGHTLY

Following up on this post, further proof that the Ramban felt free to reject midrashic interpretations -- even those relating to purely historic events -- is in one of his very first comments on this past weeks parsha. The question is where was Avraham coming from when the pasuk says "vayavo Avraham l'spod l'Sarah v'lvkosa"?

The Midrash: From Har HaMoriah, i.e., the Akeida. According to the Midrash, Sarah immediately died upon hearing about the Akeidah. Avraham returned to Chevron to a dead wife.

The Ramban: From Chevron. The Ramban explains that Avraham was living in Be'er Sheva with Sarah when he received the command of the Akeida and immediately returned there after the Akeida (see 22:19: "vayelchu yachdav el Beer Sheva, vayeshev Avraham b'veer Sheva."). Therefore, at the start of this week's parsha, Avraham was already in Beer Sheva, so "vayavo" cannot mean that he was coming from a different place. As Sarah was in Chevron at the time of Sarah's death, Avraham and Sarah must have moved there from Beer Sheva after Avraham returned from the Akeda. Therefore, Sarah died not upon hearing about the Akeida, but sometime thereafter.

Why the Ramban rejects the Midrash: As the above argument suggests, the Midrash can only be understood if Sarah and Avraham lived apart (Sarah in Chevron and Avraham in Be'er Sheva), which the Ramban rejects as implausible. Alternatively, the Ramban explains, the Midrash could be understood if Sarah and Avraham both lived in Chevron at the time of the Akeida, and that Avaham stopped off in Ber Sheva on the way back from the Akeida to plant an Aishel tree as a way to give thanks to God. The pasuk in Chapter 22, "vayeshev Avraham b'Ve'er Sheva" must refer to Avraham's place of residence after Sarah's burial. After seeking to explain the words of the Midrash, the Ramban reiterates his own position:

"V'lo yitachen b'einai sh'ba me'ir acheres el Chevron, she'ilu haya chein, haya mazkir oso ha'makom v'haya hacasuv m'faresh: va'yishma Avraham va'yavo mi'makom ploni."

And it is not possible in my opinion that Avraham cam from some other city to Chevron, becase if this were so, the pasuk would have mentioned that other place, and would have stated explicitly: "And Arvaham heard [of Sarah's death] and he came from such-and-such place."

Haloscan comments

The Ramban, the Vikuach and Daas Torah

2006-12-19T09:27:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

One of the most storied events of medieval Jewish history is the Ramban's theological debate with Pablo Christiani. The Ramban famously won the debate and was promptly forced to flee Spain. The dispute is recorded in the Vikuach or "Disputation." In it, the Ramban makes a rather bold statement regarding the authoritativeness of Aggadic statments of Chazal:

We have three types of books. The first is the Bible and everyone believes in it with perfect faith. The second is called Talmud and it is a commentary on the mitzvos of the Torah. The Bible has 613 commandments and there is not one which is not explained in the Talmud. We believe in it concerning the explanations of the mitzvos. There is a third type of book which is called medrash i.e., sermons. It is comparable to a preacher getting up and giving a sermon and some listening liked it and recorded it. Concerning medrash--it is fine if one wishes to believe them. However there is no loss if one doesn't want to believe them.

This statement was the subject of a debate on the Avodah list. Someone asserted (let's call him Rabbi Charedi) that there are no instances of Rishonim rejecting a non-halakhic biblical interpretation of Chazal (the assertion is somewhat more nuanced than that, but that's the basic gist). The above quoted statement was cited as proof that it is legitimate to reject Aggadic statements of Chazal. I found R' Charedi's response to this source rather shocking:

As far as my "pshat" in the Ramban in the vikuach, most people understand the Ramban's words in the context of his debate with Pablo Christiani (see Shevel offen ort). He was merely being docheh him b'kash because he knew Pablo could never fathom the profound meaning of Chazal in the aggados and would only use them as a "kardum lachtzov bo" in the debate. Anyone who learns the Ramban knows the respect the he has for aggados Chazal and to think otherwise is to ignore the Ramban in countless places.

So according to this view, the Ramban was lying. Putting aside the question of whether one is allowed to lie about the Torah in order to win a debate (and in any event, what's so great about the Ramban's victory if he had to lie to acheive it?), I think R' Caredi's view reflects a fundamental problem I have with a certain type of Charedi mindset. According to this way of thinking, the Ramban's respect for Chazal must mean that he believes in their absolute authoritativeness and any statement indicating anything less must be apologetics. Respect is equated with complete and utter submissiveness. A similiar midset animates the concept of Daas Torah. It's not enough to respect Gedolim and hold them in high esteem, but one must accept everything they say onanytopic, and anything less is an indication of a lack of appropriate emunas chachamim.

R' Charedi cannot seem to fathom that the Ramban both respected Aggada yet at the same time felt free to reject it when appropriate. And a review of the Ramban al HaTorah shows this to be the case: the Ramban frequently rejects pshatim based on maamarei Chazal in favor of his own interpretations yet only where the Ramban finds Chazal's pshat to be problematic and where there is a strong basis to interpret the pasuk differently. A excellent discussion of the Ramban's view of Agadda by Prof. Marvin Fox was post by Gil here. The key quote:

What makes this entire discussion puzzling is the fact that anyone who would take the trouble even to read casually in Nahmanides' work, particularly, as Septimus points out, his commentary on the Torah, would see immediately how strange it is to assert as a truth beyond all question that his actual view was that we are obligated to believe all aggadot. There is hardly a page in that commentary where Ramban does not reject openly a midrash or a talmudic aggadah... Respect and appreciation do not imply that one is obligated to abandon all independent judgement. The interpreters who find it difficult to believe that Nahmanides could have meant what he said in his report of the disputation have not paid close enough attention to his statement in its context. Ramban is saying that we do not have to believe in the truth or correctness of any given midrash. This does not mean that he approaches the whole of rabbinic aggadah with an initial attitude of disbelief, irreverence or outright rejection, but that we are permitted, even mandated, to exercise our intelligence and our learning in order to determine when to accept and when to reject a particular midrash.

For a good collection of sources regarding the authoritativeness of Aggada, see the R' Daniel Eidensohn's post here.

Haloscan comments

Positive-Historical Halakha

2006-12-19T09:26:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

I recently had a conversation with a Conservative talmid/chaver of mine, whre I asked him about the Conservative position on two issues with Halakhic consequences that recently came up on this blog, namely, the reintroduction of tekhelet and the appropriate time to begin praying for rain.

I asked him because I felt that these are two areas where, if consistent, the Conservative movement would unequivocally recommend the addition of tekhelet to taliyot (Steg, MarG, & Freddie Mac – please verify that this is the grammatically correct plural of talit) and begin praying for rain either along with the beginning of the rainy season for that particular country or 60 days after the equinox (which I believe was yesterday or Monday). The Conservative movement was originally called the ‘positive-historical school’, and recommended the use of historical tools and understandings to influence the direction of Halakhic ruling. In both of these instances, the objective evidence points very clearly to what happened, and what the ‘original’ Halakha was intended to be. Thus, in both of these cases, the Conservative movement should adopt positions which fit their official approach to halakha. Is there any doubt that Zechariah Frankel would wear a tallit katan with tekhelet?

My friend responded that he didn’t think that the issues were weighty enough to be taken up by the Laws and Standards Committee.

To me, this was a very frank admission of a serious flaw with the movement. I ran a Bar-Ilan search on the question of the appropriate time for saying ‘ve-ten tal u-matar’ in the Southern Hemisphere. It is addressed by most of the major late 19th and early 20th century (need I even say Orthodox?) poskim. Apparently, they thought that the issue was weighty enough to merit their attention, and that it mattered to them whether people said those extra 3 words or not. Tekhelet has occupied the attention of many authors and response writers as well.

Granted, there aren’t so many Conservative Jews who pray thrice daily, or who wear a tallit katan. That’s definitely a part of the problem. But there seems, beyond that, to be a fundamentally cavalier attitude toward halakha in general, that these seemingly minor issues simply aren’t addressed in any sort of serious way.

An (I won’t sat ‘The’) upshot of this thesis is that from the Orthodox perspective, the flaw with Conservative Judaism is not the halakhic mechanisms that they would employ, rather the cavalier attitude toward halakha in general. It would be one thing if the laypeople simply didn’t give a whit what the Rabbis say. It’s another for the Rabbinate to simply not address halakhic issues, even in an academic fashion. How difficult would it be to change the dates in the official UCJS calendar to reflect the ‘positive-historical’ reality?

Not too long ago, I suggested that there’s not much substantive difference, from the standpoint of pure, halakhic reasoning, between the hetter of carrying inside an urban eruv and the ‘hetter’ to drive for a mitzvah. Many people got a bit bent out of shape, either because they thought that I implied too strongly that driving might be muttar or that carrying inside some of our contemporary eruvin might be an issur skilah. Though I probably should have chosen a better example (driving on Shabbat is THE classic example of regrettable Conservative response; allowing women to participate in zimmun with men, for example, at least has some basis in the Rishonim), my point was that the difference lies NOT in the halakhic argumentation, but in the attitude toward halakha in general.

Haloscan comments

From Ashkenaz to Canaan, around Hagar, past Loez and on to Yavan

2006-12-19T09:25:00.000-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

This is a map of medieval Europe as seen by its Jews. (You can click the image to view a larger version)

While its commonly known that Jews designated Spain "Sepharad" and Germany "Ashkenaz" and perhaps also that France was known as "Tzarfat", that Hungary was known as "Hagar" or the Slavic lands as "Canaan" and so forth is less well known.

The principle at play was that a place name from Tanakh was assigned to a territory
(The Jewish names for Hungary and Italy were not place names.) While Yavan (Ionia) does refer to Greek territory in the Torah and Talmud, obviously the Slavic lands were not "Canaan". In that case, the association was actually with the slave trade associated with the Slave-ic lands. Others, like Hagar and Tzarfat were soundalike wordplays (e.g., Tzarfat/ Francia). Sepharad, it would seem, was also a wordplay, the s and ph invoking Spania.

It's plain from the contexts in which places like Tzarfat, Sepharad and Ashkenaz are used that in Tanakh these are locales in the Near East and not the European places that later were designated by those names.

For example, Ovadiah 1:20

And the captivity of this host of the children of Israel, that are among the Canaanites, even unto Zarephath, and the captivity of Jerusalem, that is in Sepharad, shall possess the cities of the South.

As for Ashkenaz, the question is how the great-grandson of Noah came to be associated with the Germanic lands (and eventually most of Europe). In Yirmiyah 51:27 ("Set ye up a standard in the land, blow the horn among the nations, prepare the nations against her, call together against her the kingdoms of Ararat, Minni, and Ashkenaz") it is given as Turkic. If Yafeth was traditionally regarded as the father of the European peoples, why should an obscure one of his sons, Ashkenaz, take the title?

Jewish sources in antiquity, such as Targum Yonathan, identify Gomer (a brother of Ashkenaz) with "Germania", presumably a place in the Near East, as Gomer (like Yavan) was associated with the Asian Minor territories. It obviously isn't a great leap from Germania to Germany. It seems that the Ashkenaz of the Torah was identified with the territory called Scandia (the old name for Scandinavia, north of Germany) by an early date. In fact, many Christian Bibles to this day comment on the name Ashkenaz of its association with Scandinavia. Presumably the association came because of the s, k and n sounds. Maybe the name Ashkenaz 'migrated' south when Jews came to live there. (This he'ara from Dovid Katz's 'Words On Fire')

Eventually, the two Jewish cultures of Europe that "made it" were Sepharad and Ashkenaz, such that the memory of when European Jews were not just Ashkenazim but also Canaanim has long receded.

Haloscan comments

Just one word. Sad.

2006-12-19T09:24:00.000-08:00

Just one word. Sad.

Krum as a bagel

What do I, as a Jew, have to do to merit the blessings of the Torah? Do I need to be honest in business? Treat my wife with respect? Do acts of kindness for my fellow man? Meditate over the words of the Torah day and night? According to a wildly popular book, the answer is "Just one word." The "word" in question is "Amen."

I went to the seforim store yesterday and noticed that this is the most prominently displayed sefer there. The book seems the be the hottest item in town. The other week, a teenage girl ran into the store to pick up two copies of the book she had asked the clerk to reserve for her. In shul, one guy has three copies of the book on his shtender. A sign at the counter assures customers that more shipments are on their way. Its already out in a revised and expanded edition.

As the dustjacket explains:

Given the opportunity to bejewl Hashem's Crown of Golry with scintillating, dazzling diamonds, would you willingly forgo it? Presented with the chance to merit untold blessing for yourself and your loved ones, would you decline?

Open this book and discover the strength of just one word, a precious, powerful word. Read about the treasures of Amen - how it can open all the heavenly gates, enriching you with good fortune and success. You will rejoice with the people in these true stories when they reap the fruit of their efforts in this world.

I actually concurred with the opening few paragraphs of this review in the Yated:

I guess this is an instant generation where you look for quick solutions, where you want to be `connected' all the time. A generation of words. Well, this one fits the bill perfectly. It is a one-word ticket to eternity.

But then, not so much:

But if this sounds flippant, that's because it is truly hard to believe that this three-letter word packs in so much.

Seventy-two very fascinating stories, true of course, and parables, fill this book, along with some halochos that open up one's eyes. It is also peppered with insights and gematriyos, like the following:

The word ne'eman, faithful, is made up of the word eim with two noons (numerically valued at 100). If a mother invests effort in teaching her children to recite the required (one hundred daily) blessings aloud, and to answer amen when they hear one recited, she is gauranteed that her home will be a faithful Jewish home.

...

This book is systematically arranged into sections. It combines contemporary tales with stories from our holy sources. The first one involves R' Moshe Feinstein ztzvk'l:

It begins with a doctor who is now part of the staff of Maayanei Hayeshua Hospital in Bnei Brak. He tells how he became an observant Jew [excerpted from his story].

"About eighteen years ago, I was treating a terminally ill patient. His body was gradually ceasing to function — his days were clearly numbered. After deliberating the case with a number of specialists, I presented the following option to the patient and his family: He could undergo complicated surgery that might lengthen his life by another six months, but it would be expensive and very painful."

The son said that he could not make the decision on his own. "Only R' Moshe Feinstein can answer that question."

The doctor offered to accompany him and personally present the intricacies of the case. He was interested to see how the Rov would deal with the situation.

"What followed [he relates] will forever be etched in my memory. R' Feinstein began to cry. He cried real tears, bitter tears, his sobbing audible in the room. For almost twenty minutes he wept. As a professional, I know how we gradually learn to detach, how years of experience numb our sensitivities. Yet this Rav, who met countless people a day, was moved so intensely..."

R' Moshe asked for a day to consider. When they returned, he replied with confidence, "Go ahead and have the surgery."

"The expression on my face must have revealed my skepticism, because R' Feinstein then addressed me, saying, `In the half a year reprieve this surgery will grant our friend, he will have the merit of answering amen to many berachos. Each amen will create a guardian angel for him. These angels will defend him... and he will be granted a long life in their merit."

The doctor was amazed that R' Moshe felt it would all be worthwhile... What is more, R' Feinstein believed that these words could actually interfere with nature. "At that moment, I realized that there must be something profound to Torah and mitzvos."

Indeed, the patient outlived the doctors' grim prognosis by several years and the doctor became observant...

...

Every amen creates a guardian angel, R' Moshe had said. In fact, omein has the same numerical value as the word malach, angel — ninety-one!

...

The author writes about an old Yerushalmi minhag carried out in many shuls on Shabbos mornings. Just before mussaf, all the young boys, including those who have strayed outside to play, gather close to the oron kodesh and together, in their pure, sweet voices, they answer the words of praise that pierce the Heavens: Amen, yehei Shmei Rabba... (Afterwards, they are duly awarded with a treat!)

She goes on to quote sources — the Chofetz Chaim wrote that this practice with young children "saves thousands of people from death." And she follows up with incredible stories actually bearing this out!

And on and on. I'm tempted to attribute the popularity of the book to a rank desire for material wealth and akin to the hucksters on Christian TV selling magic holy water. The dust jacket's reference to "jewels," "diamonds," "enriching," "good fortune and success," suggests such a come on. But I'd like to think it's more then that. There must be a strong appeal in imagining that there is a simple powerful word that somehow brings us closer to God. God is here, and we can merit his presence if we answer Amen at the right time, in the right place and with the right intentions.

But it's sad. There such richness in our religion. One can spend months pondering the stories of Sefer Bereshis: creation, the etz hadaas, the flood, the akeda -- not just to gain an understanding of the stories themselves, but to extract from them an understand God wants from us. I guess it a heck of a lot easier reading stories about the magical powers of Amen. Or perhaps, as the Yated review suggests, saying Asher Yatzar:

A sequel to this book could easily be written with stories of the same kind. In our own neighborhood, we witnessed the power of concentrating upon our asher yotzar blessings (which has its own section, as well). Many women were asked to join a mishmeres for the benefit of a neighbor who fell into a coma and were asked to concentrate upon asher yotzar besides. His organs had stopped functioning and he was all hooked up to machines.

His wife informed the doctors, who had just about given up on him, what we were doing, and lo and behold! Very soon, his kidneys began to function once again and now he is out of the coma and recuperating! The mishmeres was for two weeks and when it was up, on Tu Bishvat, the participants got a letter in their mailbox telling us how effective it had been, though he still needs our prayers...

Coming soon to a seforim store near you, I'm afraid.

Haloscan comments

Edenics--was Hebrew the original language?

2006-12-19T09:22:00.001-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

I love probing shul libraries. In one of them, I found a truly strange book called The Word: The Dictionary That Reveals The Hebrew Source of English by Dr. Isaac Mozeson. Dr. Mozeson, who has a web site devoted to the study of what he calls Edenics is convinced that the original language of all men is Hebrew. He believes that he can prove it too. Using unspecified criteria he says has compiled over 22,000 English words that he says he can demonstrate to be derived from Hebrew. The book includes many of those words along with his philological study of them.

A publicity page for the book on-line says that the book proves that:

English is ultimately from Biblical Hebrew.
* All languages ultimately link up, and only through variations of the original, universal language (Hebrew).
* Every word ever thought or spoken is merely a disguised form of Hebrew. Hebrew is on the tip of your tongue.
* The primordial human language system (Hebrew) is a natural science like physics or chemistry. Only the "DNA" of Hebrew letters reveals the FL/LF element in FoLio and LeaF (synonyms) and the MN/NM in opposing NuMber words like MiNus and MaNy.

What is really strange is that Mozeson considers the entire modern science of linguistics to be, essentially, the heir of a racist German plot from the 19th century. For example: "They claim that Blacks developed unrelated African languages because they evolved from different apes than did Indo-European man. Jews and Blacks are segregated in a linguistic country club called Afro-Asiatic."

The problem with Mozeson's theory is that there is no theory. It doesn't provide any criteria through which the shifts in pronunciation occurs. There is, for example, an important philological law called Grimm's Law a theory which explains how three successive shifts in consonant pronunciation by speakers of Germanic languages occur. (The Grimm in question was, in fact, a Brother Grimm!) It explains why speakers of English, for example, pronounce certain words differently than speakers of other Indo-European languages. Whatever the merits of this law, it is an explanation. Dr. Mozeson provides no explanation for how Hebrew became English (or Algonquin--his example). It is unsystematic. It is not an entirely an exaggeration when Voltaire said that the science of philology was one in which "consonants count for little and vowels count for nothing." However, Mozeson simply ignores, well, everything! History, geography, cognate languages--all this are irrelevent to him.

It has to be pointed out that Bereishis Rabbah 18:4 says the following:

For this shall be called ishah (woman), for from ish (man) was this taken" (Gen. 2:23)--we learn from this that the Torah was given in the Holy Tongue. Rabbi Pinchas and Rabbi Hilkiya said in the name of Rabbi Simon: Just as the Torah was given in the Holy Tongue so was the world created with the Holy Tongue. Did you ever hear the forms gyne and gyneya, ita and itata, anthropos and anthropaia, gavra and gavrata? But ish and ishah [Hebrew for "man" and "woman," ah being the feminine ending], how does this come about? Because the two expressions correspond (i.e. alliterate).

Although I'm not certain how widely known this midrash aggadah is, the sentiment behind it is. It is in all likelihood the view that you were taught as a child. Although the Ramban dissents from the widely held traditional view that the Avot spoke Hebrew--he says they spoke Aramaic--it is indeed the traditional view that the original language of man was Hebrew. This was, in fact, the widely (if not universally) held traditional view among Christians too, until the 18th century.

In any case, a quick internet search shows that Dr. Mozeson's study of Edenics has a small following.

Haloscan comments

The Akeida and Drasha

2006-12-19T09:22:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

There is a famous Midrash on the Akeida that takes the view that God never in fact commanded Avraham to sacrifice his son:

R. Acha said: Avraham began to question, these things are surely very perplexing. Yesterday You said to me, "For in Yitzchak shall your seed be called," then You said to me, "Take your son," and now You say to me, "Do not send your hand against the youth!"

God said to Avraham: "I shall not break my covenant, nor change that which has issued from My lips" (Ps. 89,35). When I told you to "take your son," I did not say "slaughter him," but only "raise him" ("ha'aleihu") - for cherishing, I told you to raise him up him and you did as I bid. Now take him down. This is what is written, "It never entered My mind" (Jer. 19,5). (56,8)

So was it all a silly misunderstaning? Did Avraham misinterpret God's command? I don't think so. Surely Avraham would not have obeyed such a command were there any ambiguity to it, and surely God would have cleared up any such misunderstanding at the outset. (But see R' Dessler who actually concludes that Araham was mistaken.) I think the Midrash is simply stressing the idea that God's intention was never for Arvaham to sacrifice his son, and that even the words that he used to convey the command to Avraham contained enough ambiguity that nobody should say that God condones the practice. (See here for an interesting discussion of this Midrash.)

However, I think the Midrash does shift the spotlight on to Avraham. Why didn't Avraham seek to "darshan" God's words? Contrast Avraham's conduct to how Chazal darshan pesukim. How would Avraham Avinu have interpreted a pasuk like "ayin tachas ayin"?

Haloscan comments

Rashbam on the Akeida (or: ADDeRashbam)

2006-12-19T09:21:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

Check out the first Rashbam on the story of the Akeida. He's got an approach which is so fundamentally different from anyone else, that it's worth repeating.
He understands it as a punishment for Avraham's treaty with Avimelech, based on the opening words of 'achar ha-devarim ha-eileh'. Inheriting the land, as God promised Avraham, would preclude entering into such treaties. It's as if God is saying to Avraham, "You're so confident in the treaties that you make, and how they'll last for generations? Go kill your kid. Let's see how much these treaties will help you!"

He gives an alternative translation of the word 'nisah' - commonly understood as 'tested' - where he takes it to mean 'tormented', but not in the sense of physical torture, but in the sense of a completely knocking the wind out of someone's sails, a complete reveral of expectations.
Rashbam even gives a French translation of this word (which resonates well with me particularly) - CONTRAIRE.

I think that this approach can be broadened, that 'achar ha-devarim ha-eileh' isn't just going on the treaty with Avimelech, but on Avraham's whole life. Avraham, the guy who made the connection between belief in God and pursuit of that which is good and just, that God is about morality and truth and justice, is here confronted by a commandment which undermines everything he thought and taught about God. Human sacrifice? Our God? It's truly a torment, and truly 'contrary' to everything Avraham had presumed about God.

It's as if to say, "Avreiml, you're a good guy, and you're doing great thing. But in case you think that you've got Me figured out, that I'm the God of This or the God of That, I want you to go ahead and do the most evil and contrary thing that you could ever imagine."

Like the Kotzker said, if one can figure God out, then what does one need Him for?

Haloscan comments

Photographs of chosheve women can be explained

2006-12-19T09:08:00.000-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

A post about "Oz Vehodor Levusha/ Modesty: An Adornment For Life" by is a fish-in-a-barrel shoot. (been there already.)However, these passages on pp. 177-78 are worth reproducing (formatting identical to the book):

N. BIOGRAPHIES WITH PICTURES HARMFUL TO TZNIUS1. "NON-KOSHER" PHOTOGRAPHS OF CHOSHEVE WOMEN: Some of the excellent biographies of Gedolim and of great w0men that are published nowadays contain pre-war photographs of great female personalities who are in an inadequate state of dress. They have sleeves rolled up over the elbow, a knee not properly covered, a blouse with more than the neck showing and similar problems. The reproduction and mass dissemination of these pictures is a considerable stmbling blog to all who read these books.For men this is certainly harmful, as a man must not see an inadequately dressed female even just in passing. For women and girls these books are likewise very detrimental as they appear to contain "live evidence" that in pre-war years the general frum public and even chosheve people were not careful with aspects of dress that are considered nowadays to be essential. Since it is halachically wrong to appear amongst men with these inadequacies, publicizing these photographs is an unintentional attack at the very heart of tznius and a major disservice to Klal Yisroel.2. FAMILY PHOTOS WITH INADEQUATELY DRESSED RELATIVES: Similarly, there are biographies of Gedolim in which large family pictures appear. Occasionally a female relative appears on these pictures wearing a tight-fitting skirt or standing in an untznius'dik manner. Here again, issue must be taken at publishing such pictures and for giving the impression that the Gadol consented to the young lady dressing or standing in such a way, while that was surely not the case. Books that are potentially excellent reading material for girls, as they impart sound hashkafos and would contribute much to chinuch for authentic Yiddishkeit, are turned into harmful material as a result of these pictures.3. HOW THE "NON-KOSHER" PICTURES CAME ABOUT: Concerning the basic question as to how these choshuve women went around in an inadequate manner of dress, the answer in most cases is probably quite simple; when the picture was taken the woman was almost certainly in a private garden and totally out of the eye of the public. Her friend took the photo there in the garden and neither of them ever imagine that this picture would be published in a book to be seen by hundreds if not thousands of people. Since she was in a secluded area, she was not so careful to ensure that she was fully covered. The desired practice of dressing with full tznius even in private, is predominantly for a tefach, whilst the amount uncovered in these pictures is invariably less than a tefach. Publishing these pictures is therefore lashon horah (slander) and even motzi shem ra (untrue slander) on these chosheve women, since they give the impression that these women were careless in matters of tznius and this need not be true at all.

Well, he's probably right that didn't imagine that their personal photographs would be published in books.

Haloscan comments

Avraham's Joy and Tears

2006-12-19T09:07:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

The posuk:

"And Avraham stretched forth his hand and took the knife."

The Midrash:

He stretches out his hand to take the knife, and his eyes are flowing with tears, and the tears fall on the eyes of Yitzchak from the pity of a father - nonetheless, the heart is joyous to do the will of his creator.

I heard a beautiful vort contrasting this Midrash to the famous Midrash citing the protest of the angels at kryias yam suf:

Your creations are drowing in the sea and they are singing songs of praise?

The answer to the angels' complaint is simple. Man, unlike angels, is capable of having conflicting emotions. Avraham avinu can carry out God's command with joy while crying tears of sadness over the death of his son. The Jews can sing songs of praise to God while recognizing the tragedy of the death of their enemies.

Here is where I make the painfully obvious connection to us moderns. The modern world makes us face difficult questions posed by science, history, morality, etc.... Yet we must understand that complexity is part of what makes us human. These questions shouldn't stop up from doing God's will with a joyous heart, nor do they make our religious acts any less pure. Indeed, Avraham's act was borne of conflict, yet is is the paradigmatic act of devotaion and sacrifice that we repreatedly cite to in asking for God's mercy.

Haloscan comments

The utility of heresy

2006-12-19T09:06:00.000-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

At the new YCT blog there is a post, by Ben, about R. Nathan Lopes Cardozo's (always loved that name!) talk at Yeshiva Chovavei Torah in which he argued that heretics do a great service to religion in that they force them to develop intellectually. The specific example he gave was Baruch Spinoza and that "many rabbinic works and indeed entire rabbinic careers that were dedicated to the strengthening, defense and exploration of Jewish doctrine due, either directly or indirectly, to the serious questions and doubts raised by people like Spinoza."

Ben wonders "if an increased refinement of Judaism philosophically and intellectually is worth the expense of losing those Jews from the fold of traditional Judaism due to the heretics in the first place. Is heresy truly ever justified? Could there of been ways the Jewish communities in the past could of prevented heresy to develop so as not to need defense after defense, inquiry after inquiry in order to continually make Judaism relevant and respond to these doubts? Or perhaps heresy and doubt are inexplicably linked to the process of religion and it is precisely within those challenges that Judaism finds its greatest moment."

Good questions.

Haloscan comments

Remember

2006-12-19T09:05:00.000-08:00

Mississippi Fred MacDowell

Yosef Hayim Yerushalmi's classic big-little book ZAKHOR is subtitled 'Jewish History and Jewish Memory'; and that is what it is, an exploration of the fact that Jewish history and Jewish collective memory diverges and converges. The book begins with a reminder that to remember is commanded in the Torah, "altogether the verb zakhar appears one hundred and sixty-nine times" in Tanakh.

And yet, as many of us are fully aware, the two--Jewish memory and Jewish history--do not always converge. This is today typified by the phenomenon of the 'Artscrollization' of east European Jewish history. While many of us who've caught the history bug deplore it, the simple truth is that the only way they can and do get away with it is because of the failure of collective Jewish memory. If everyone knew that the portrait of recent and distant Jewish history was being distorted then we would all reply, as in the 'Kuzari proof', "Hey, I don't remember that. My grandfather never told me that. You're making it up." The facts are that this doesn't occur. Only those of us who've chased down the history know it. In fact, I don't think there is much of a conscious effort to rewrite history. I think that in many cases, probably, the revisionists are wholly unaware that they're doing anything but recording history--they're recording memory.

This is only a recent example. Whether Jewish memory 'forgot' centuries of the Bayit Sheni period or all but forgot an entire Diaspora Jewish culture, the Hellenic Jewish world typified by Philo of Alexandria, this concept of the disconnect between memory and history is very old--and is NOT a Jewish phenomenon in the least bit. (As an aside, the culture that was Jewish Hellenism is preserved only in tantalizing hints in the tradition, like the references to the Great Synagogue of Alexandria or the curious and notoriously ambiguous attitudes towards the Greek language and the Septuagint in the Talmud--these only became clear, or more clear, when the existence of that culture was essentially rediscovered in modern times. Imagine if in 2000 years Judaism in America was forgotten almost entirely--no Lakewood, Yeshiva University, Schottenstein Edition or Groucho Marx.)

A perfect example is the Jewish view of how the Talmud was written or edited or published or whatever you want to call it. The fact is, Jewish memory did not really preserve this information. To begin with, contrary to popular belief, the Talmud doesn't say (Rav Ashi and Ravin sof hora'ah is not the information that is missing). The little we do know comes primarily from the famous Iggeret R. Sharira Gaon, the 10th century letter, in which Sharira Gaon answered a query about the Talmud's origin. Were it not for the curiosity of Jews in Kairuan what the 10th century ge'onic view of this question would not be known to us. It is from R. Sherira that we learn of the existence of the mysterious Saboraim, the rabbis who, depending on your point of view, put the finishing touches on the Talmud or did much more than that.(More than one or two rabbis mentioned by name in the Talmud were Saboraim; the opening Gemara Kiddushin was Saboraic, according to R. Sherira.)

The trouble is that there are two versions of R. Sherira's letter! One Spanish and one French. In the French version the Mishna and Talmud were not written until after the crucial eras in question (e.g., the Mishna was composed about 200 CE, but wasn't written until the Talmud too was written centuries later--for that matter, according to this version of the letter, the Talmud was composed but not written until after the Talmudic period.) In the Spanish version, they were written at the same time as they were composed. So we just don't know. But how can we not know? Answer: you can't ask a kashya on a ma'aseh. These 'details' were forgotten, and attempted reconstructions by later authories like the Rambam (or critical Talmudic scholars) are not the result of Jewish memory regarding the Talmud's origin.

Many of us have been to a pesach seder in which someone offered an explanation of the story of the tannaim who have to be told that its time to recite keriat shema by their students. The explanation is that they were shut into a room without a window, because that seder was during an era of Roman persecution. This vort is an example of a modern attempt to recover history. Suffice it to say, the story says nothing about Roman persecution or if the room had windows. But even at traditional sedorim the modern urge to anchor the story into history is there. I assure you that a thousand years ago no one suggested Roman persecution as an element in this story (or the Lag Ba-'omer one).

Yerushalmi writes that "only in the modern era do we really find, for the first time, a Jewish historiography divorced from Jewish collective memory, and, in certain crucial respects, thoroughly at odds with it."

Yerushalmi gets it exactly right when he says that "modern Jewish historiography cannot address itself to those Jews who have never "fallen." The potential dialogue of the historian is with those who, consciously or unwittingly, have tasted the forbidden fruit and can never be the same."

I am among those who have 'fallen', who have the history bug. I bet many of us are too. It makes for some discomfort that haunts us.

Haloscan comments

Nostra Aetate

2006-12-19T09:04:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

Gil, DovBear and Cross-Currents have all noted the 40th anniversary of Nostra Aetate, the Vatican II document regarding the church's attitude towards the Jews. Whenever I think of the Nostra Aetate, it reminds of the sort of embarassing feeling I get when I receive a gift that I know I cannot possibly respond to in kind. Putting aside questions of the Vatican's intent, the reality it took a step that we as Orthodox cannot possibly take: they, by proclamation, changed a fundamental aspect of church doctrine. As RYBS noted, we cannot have rightly asked for this "gift" nor can we be expected to oblige the church in return:

[W]e members of the community of the few should always act with tact and understanding and refrain from suggesting to the community of the many, which is both proud and prudent, changes in ritual or emendations of its texts. If the genuinely liberal dignitaries of the faith community of the many deem some changes advisable, they will act in accordance with their convictions without any prompting on our part. It is not within our purview to advise or solicit. For it would be both impertinent and unwise for an outsider to intrude upon the most private sector of the human existential experience, namely, the way in which a faith community expresses its relationship to God....

[W]e certainly have not been authorized by our history, sanctified by the martyrdom of millions, to even hint to another faith community that we are mentally ready to revise historical attitudes, to trade favors pertaining to fundamental matters of faith, and to reconcile "some" differences. Such a suggestion would be nothing but a betrayal of our great tradition and heritage and would, furthermore, produce no practical benefits. Let us not forget that the community of the many will not be satisfied with half measures and compromises which are only indicative of a feeling of insecurity and inner emptiness. We cannot command the respect of our confronters by displaying a servile attitude. Only a candid, frank and unequivocal policy reflecting unconditional commitment to our God, a sense of dignity, pride and inner joy in being what we are, believing with great passion in the ultimate truthfulness of our views, praying fervently for and expecting confidently the fulfillment of our eschatological vision when our faith will rise from particularity to universality, will impress the peers of the other faith community among whom we have both adversaries and friends....

I also found R' Alderstein discussion rather ironic. In applauding the Nostra Aetate, he describes, with apparent approval, the church's flexible attitude towards doctrine:

They do not understand that the Church does not see change as impossible. The Catholic Church overflows with tradition; it allows only for very slow change. But it does allow for it. Later generations can and do rethink old issues as society develops.

R' Adlerstein almost makes this approach sound like a good thing. But, of course, his own tradition (and mine as well) rejects such an approach, and considers its proponents among his co-religionists to be outside the pale. The fact that this irony goes completely unnoted by R' Adlerstein is mind-boggling.

Update: See S.'s take here.

Haloscan comments

The Sin of Sodom

2006-12-19T09:00:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

Sodom is the paradigmatic cruel society. In Tanach and throughout Rabbinic literature, Sodom is characterized by an attitude of supreme indifference, where the plight of the other doesn’t register in the consciousness of the Sodomite.

Yet, when the Torah describes the destruction of Sodom in this week’s Parsha, it doesn’t really address what their great crime was. In last week’s Parsha, we learned that they were very wicked, but without detail. The only crime that the Torah mentions in our Parsha is their attempt of homosexual gang-rape . Somehow, the notion developed, mainly in the Christian world, that Sodom’s great crime was sexual perversion. They even named a sexual deed after the town.

So here’s the question: if the problem with Sodom is complete lack of social welfare, why does the Torah virtually ignore that element and focus specifically on this act of sexual violence. It seems out of place. I think that the answer will also help explain what I believe is Chaza”l attitude toward sexual ethics. I know that I might be getting into some hot water with this, but believe me that it’s an honest attempt to understand one of the 613 mitzvot.

I’ll start with a joke:
The elderly Mr. Goldberg had a dream. In this dream, he is standing before a heavenly tribunal, being judged for his life on Earth. His record was stellar, completely unblemished. After going through his whole life, the ministering angel turns to him and says, “Mr. Goldberg, your record is so pristine that you can actually commit one grave sin and still get a seat in the front row. You’re time is up in one week; have a blast!”
It just so happened that in the same South Florida complex as Mr. Goldberg lived Mrs. Schwartz, a woman whose life had been made very difficult by a husband who had been debilitated for some years. Caring for him took up much of her time and energy, and her life, as a result, became sad and difficult.
Mr. Goldberg had noticed her occasionally give him the eye, so when he awoke from his dream, he already had an idea where he wanted to spend his one sin. One of their friendly conversations became a flirting match, and before you knew it, they were back in her apartment, making passionate love.
When Mr. Goldberg was ready to head home, Mrs. Schwartz stopped him and said, “I just want you to know, that you did SUCH a MITZVAH!”

You understand what the joke is, right? The act of lovemaking is one where a person experiences intense pleasure, but it’s also an opportunity to simultaneously give pleasure to another person. Mutual pleasure heightens the experience for each participant. It’s an act of simultaneous giving and receiving.

The people of Sodom were not at all interested in giving. The value that they placed on another human being was related solely to that person’s ability to make my life better. Human beings were means for one’s own gratification, not end in and of themselves. This is how they welcomed guests: they made it very clear that their stay in Sodom was contingent on their providing some kind of service for the Sodomite. If none was forthcoming, then they would take it by force. Their attempted homosexual gang-rape wasn’t about sexual baseness, but about a total lack of chesed, to the point that if one is gaining some kind of benefit from the city, even though it costs them nothing, they will take their payment in one way or another. Thus, the description of Sodom’s crimes in this week’s Parsha is, in this analysis, consistent with their lack of chesed.

The more interesting conclusion is the role of chesed in a Jewish sexual ethic. Sexuality that lacks chesed, is unconcerned with the pleasure of the other, runs the risk of becoming completely unbridled. Granted, there’s always a ‘price’ to pay for sex, but it will always boil down to a cost/benefit ratio. The Torah prohibits sexuality which is devoid of chesed, and as a case in point, to propose an understanding of the Chazal’s view of homosexuality.

Many are familiar with the explicit biblical prohibition against sex between men (I will avoid the term ‘homosexuality’ because I don’t believe that the Torah addresses sexual identity, only sexual acts). However, Chaza”l (Sanhedrin 58a) understood it to be contained within the 7 Noahide laws as well. Specifically, they explicated the verse (Bereishis 2:24) ‘Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh.’ The Talmud sees each phrase in this verse as excluding a different type of forbidden sexuality. The term “and shall cleave” is taken to exclude sex with another male. Rashi, ad loc, s.v. ‘ve-davak’ says – ‘there is no cleaving here, because the ‘nishkav’ (penetrated partner) receives no pleasure, he does not cleave to him’. The universal ban on sex between males was formulated as a relationship in where the potential for ‘dibuk’ is absent because the pleasure of one participant is not itself invested in the pleasure of the other. The joke that I wrote above would fall horribly short if it was about Mr. Schwartz instead of Mrs.

In our parsha as well, the attempted rapists were wholly unconcerned with the pleasure of their visitors. The fact that it was homosexual only serves to reinforce the point that there was no potential for the visitors to have a pleasurable experience.

I will add a final caveat that I am attempting to characterize what I perceive to be an attitude within Chaza”l. Obviously, it is those who are directly affected whose experiences must be trusted when determining whether or not “men don’t feel pleasure from penetration by another man”. I do believe, though, that Chazal’s sexual ethics, and the role of chesed in sexuality, is crucial, and that this approach to homosexuality is different and significant enough to merit further development.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Haloscan comments

The Jewish Week on Jews on Minorities

2006-12-19T08:59:00.001-08:00

Krum as a bagel

Further to this post, the new Jewish Week reports on a recent survey which surprisingly shows that, despite the perceptions of increasing conservatism, the attitude of Jews on a variety of political issues remain relatively static. What struck me is the similarity between the views of Jews and African-Americans:

Asked if "little or nothing will be done to deal with the issue of race and poverty" following Katrina, 66 percent of African-Americans and 65 percent of Jews agreed. The figure for whites and Hispanics was 47 percent.

Similarly, only 16 percent of African-Americans and 27 percent of Jews agreed that "President Bush cares about the needs of minority communities in America," while 47 percent of whites and 38 percent of Hispanics agreed. I guess these numbers should not be surprising. Jews have always been, and continue to be, more liberal politically than white Gentiles. But the views expressed in the survey are reflect more than just liberalism. It's more like concern and empathy towards other minorities. Jews appear to be adopting black people's perceptions of injustice towards them.

How to explain it?
The findings of the FEU study "are not a surprise," said Diane Steinman, executive director of the AJCommittee’s New York chapter." Jews have been in the vanguard over the years of savoring civil rights," she said. "Jews tend to endorse liberal reasons" — such as racism and inadequate government funding for anti-poverty programs — "for the socio-economic disparities between blacks and whites."

I would love to see how the responses broke down by denomination or level of observance. This would give us perhaps a more accurate read on whether the anecdotal perceptions noted here are correct. More on this later.

Haloscan comments

Communicating across the millenia

2006-12-19T08:59:00.000-08:00

Krum as a bagel

What amazes me about Torah learning is the ability of ancient hebrew texts communicate accross centuries, or even millenia, and speak to me, sitting at a table in 2005. The same cannot be said for even relatively recent english texts. I find it a leck of a lot easier reading Mishne Torah than, say, 17th century english poetry. I am sure there are many obvious reasons for this, but I find this fact remarkable nonetheless. Lanuguage is a fundamental product of society and the society in which the key Jewish texts were written are vastly different than our own.

However, we often come accross biblical phrases that simply have no meaning to us. We understand each word of the phrase, but the manner in which they are arranged do not seem to make sense. One example: " וַיֵּאָסֶף אֶל-עַמָּיו." (Bereishis 49:33). This phrase is literally translated as "he was gathered unto his people" and is used in connection with someone's death. The phrase pops up throughout Chumash (see Bereishis 25:8, 17; 35:29; 49:33; Bamidbar 20:24; 27:13; Devarim 32:50). Yet the phrase seems inscrutable. First, the juxtaposition of the verb "gather" and the word "unto." You gather something "up" or "together" but not "unto" something or someone else. Second, gathering connotes the bringing together of things which are spread out, such as wheat. How do you gather a single person? Third, gathering connotes bringing together to one place. Yet, in the verse, the gathering is to "his people," which suggests more of a distribution than gathering. Obviously, the phrase is some sort of ancient idiom which is metaphorical. Because of the how vastness of the separation between ancient Israel and modern society, I don't believe there is any way we can truly understand that phrase.

Another example: וַהֲשֵׁבֹתָ, אֶל-לְבָבֶךָ (Devarim 30:1). This phrase literally means "you shall return unto your hearts." Again the words of this phrase are arranged in a seemingly meaningless way. How can you return to your own heart? A similarlr enigmatic phrase: "וְהֵשִׁיב לֵב-אָבוֹת עַל-בָּנִים, וְלֵב בָּנִים עַל-אֲבוֹתָם" (Malachi 3:24). Here, the heart is doing the "returning": I shall return the hearts of the fathers onto the children and the hearts of the children onto the fathers."

Any other examples?

Haloscan comments

Rabbeinu Gregory's Shittah on Praying for Rain

2006-12-19T08:58:00.000-08:00

ADDeRabbi

First, a bit of a history lesson:
The calendar that the western world uses, called the Gregorian calendar after the Pope who made it the official calendar, isn’t that old. You can read up on it here, but suffice it to say that the current system, which contains 97 leap years every 400 years, is just over 400 years old. Before then, the Julian calendar, which contains a leap year every 4 years, was used. When the change was made, first in 1582 and whenever it was adopted afterward by other countries, the calendar had to be adjusted so that certain features of the astronomical year match consistently with the calendar year. For example, that the solstices and equinoces would not vary, and so that certain holidays (especially Easter) would remain in the appropriate season.

In order to retroactively adjust the calendar, 10 dates were dropped that year; those who went to sleep the night of October 4, woke up on the morning of October 15.

As is known, the Jewish calendar adjusts itself to the solar year as well by introducing an extra month in 7 of every 19 years, also to insure that certain holidays (especially Pesach) occur in the appropriate seasons. Additionally, the 4 seasons of the solar year are called in Rabbinic parlance the Tekufot of Tishrei, Tevet, Nissan, and Tammuz corresponding to Autumn, Winter, Spring, and Summer, respectively. The beginning of these Tekufot correspond to the beginning of the calendrical seasons as well: the autumnal equinox, the winter solstice, the vernal equinox, and the summer solstice. The days upon which those occur are called ‘yemei tekufah’.

Now, a bit of an astronomy lesson:
Solstices and equinoces are not days; they’re events. The equinox is the moment in time where the part of the earth closest to the sun lies at the equator, where somewhere on earth along the equator it is noon and the sun lies directly, absolutely, at the zenith of the sky, or when the line which goes from the center of the earth to the center of the sun is perfectly perpendicular to the Earth’s axis (all of these mean the same thing). We notice its effects in that the length of days and nights are as close to even as they get during the course of the year.
The solstices are the moments when the point on the Earth closest to the sun is as far north or south as they will get during the course of the year, when at High noon, somewhere along the tropic of Cancer or Capricorn, the sun will be directly overhead, when the angle formed by the intersection of the Earth’s axis and the line from the center of the Earth to the center of the Sun is at its most acute (or obtuse, depending on how you’re measuring).
The Gregorian calendar is arranged so that these events nearly always occur on the same four dates, which correspond to the beginnings of the four seasons.

Now, a lesson in Halakha:
According to the Gemara, (Ta’anit 10a), in Babylonia, which didn’t require all that much rain, they began to pray for rain (what Ashkenazim say as ‘Ve-ten tal u-matar’) on day 60 of the Tekufah of Tishrei, i.e., the 60th day after the autumnal equinox.
The autumnal equinox was originally designated to fall out on September 24 or so in the Julian calendar, but over the course of the centuries had slid back about 11 days. Nevertheless, September 24 was still treated as the equinox. Thus, Halakhic authorities such as Tashbetz (3:123) and Avudraham (Shmoneh Esrei, s.v. “Ha’revi’it Be-birkat) can rule that we begin praying for rain on the 22nd or November, and the 23rd on leap years.

However, astronomically speaking, when they wrote those words, the 60th day after the solstice was already 9 or 10 days earlier. Thus, just as the Catholic and Protestant calendars shifted, the Jewish calendar should have shifted as well, and the proper time to begin praying for rain, for us Babylonians, should be back at November 20 or 21 (when the equinox is on September 23, as it normally is).

Sadly, but not surprisingly, the Halakha never adjusted. We will continue begin praying for rain on December 5th or 6th until the year 2100, when the Halakha will observe a leap year but the rest of the world won’t, and we’ll begin praying for rain on December 6th or 7th. Eventually (i.e., in about 16,000 years), we’ll never pray for rain because Pesach will be before the 60th day from the Julian equinox. By then, though, hopefully we’ll all be living in Israel so we won’t calculate by the methods of the accursed Babylonians. For the time being, it’s another example of what happens when Halacha goes into exile.

My apologies to Greg if he thought this post was going to be about him.

Haloscan comments

Welcome!

2006-12-19T08:41:00.000-08:00

Maven Yavin is a collaborative blog dedicated to topics of common interest in the Jewish blogosphere, topics such as Torah, Jewish thought and Jewish history (and Artscroll).

Maven Yavin's agenda is only to provide food for thought, to be the catalyst for sharpening our own thoughts and those of our commenters and readers, which, in the spirit of the ancient tradition of Jewish learning, discussion and debate can do.

Just kidding about the Artscroll part. Or maybe not.

Maven Yavin would be remiss if we do not mention the Godol Hador who is a model for what a Jewish blog can be, with both quality posts and commenters. On the theory that more heads are better than one, we hope to captivate your interest. If you have any cracks to make about how it always takes a bunch of people to replace one, make it now. ;) Besides, Maven Yavin makes no claim to GH's hallowed real estate and loyal readers. We will have to earn that, although we're almost certain there won't be any Supertramp song parodies.

Maven Yavin's contributing posters are listed at the upper right, some of you already know us.

Welcome!

Tuesday, November 15, 2005