Economic Advice in the Talmud - It's not all about the next big idea (Menachot 85a)

In the daf from a few days back the Talmud quotes a disagreement between Moses and two Egyptian sorcerers (Yochana and Mamrei). According to Rashi after the first plague (turning water to blood), these sorcerers mocked Moses, saying "Straw you are bringing to Aforayim!" Rashi explains that Aforayim was a market that was known for selling straw. According to these sorcerers, Moses's "magic" in Egypt was nothing special. Since they were known also for doing tricks and feats, it was repetitive and futile for Moses to try anything supernatural. In essence they mock him saying "It's been done!" For them, doing magic in Egypt was like bringing straw to a market already saturated with the product.

However, Moses doesn't give up. He has an answer, "People say: To a place of vegetables, take your vegetables." For Moses, it's smart business to take vegetables to a market that already sells them. That's because there is already demand for them and because people can compare prices and quality. If your produce is good quality, it can only help you to enter the market. Being the first person in the community to sell tomatoes when no one is accustomed to buying them isn't always good business. Yes, you will corner the market, but people may pass by your product because they are not used to buying it or have never tasted it.

This text is interesting for two reasons. The first is this, that this is one of the many aphorisms found in the Talmud that teaches us the rabbis understanding of economic forces. However, perhaps more important, Moses's response is interesting because of what it says about influencing people.

If you do extraordinary work (like turn water into blood) you hope to get recognized. However, if no one knows to look out for your work, people will miss it - I'm not sure one would miss blood rivers but I hope you get the point. Great ideas are only great if people hear them. Perhaps, it's not about being the first person to do something. Rather it's entering a market that already expects a certain kind of innovation and doing it better (and slightly different) than anyone else. Perhaps that's what make the plague so great. Everyone does magic but not everyone can turn rivers to blood.

This second reading of Moses's statement is important for many reasons, not the least of which is it sums up my view on synagogues. It seems today that people are looking for the next big idea to shape Jewish life. Some of these ideas may be great but they lack something. There is no platform for them. Innovation in Jewish life must happen, but in the marketplace of Jewish ideas, fixing and engaging with an established product, temple life, is the smarter way to make change and impact people. We can support Israel, encourage Jewish practice, fix Jewish literacy rates, and support our needy anywhere. But there is no place that we can do it better than through our institutions.

There are those who always want the next big Jewish idea. There are others who want to enter the race in the middle and build off what others have done. Today, our Talmud gives a vote for the latter.

Oil, Tax Loopholes, and Tithing (Menachot 67b)

First of all, a shameless plug. If you haven't already, please go to www.facebook.com/brooklynjews and "like" the Brooklyn Jews page. It's the organization I work for (the outreach arm of Congregation Beth Elohim) and we are trying to get 100 likes by the end of the week!

Now for the post.

The Talmud asks the question: Why is an idolater's terumah (priestly tithe) valid? Technically, if we read the Bible there is no evidence that an idolater can bring a tithe to the Temple.  The reason for this is because the specific act that makes grain subject to tithing is the "smoothing" of the grain during preparation. Without smoothing, grain is technically not subject to tithes, and any grain not subject to tithes cannot be brought to the temple, even as a gift. Therefore, if an idolater were to smooth grain the grain would never be subject to the laws of tithing.

However the rabbis noticed that something odd was happening with the grain. Since terumah is donation by percentage (like any tithe), it meant that those who were rich and could afford a lot of grain also had to donate a lot to the Temple. So what did they do? They transferred the ownership of the grain to idolators right before the grain was to be "smoothed." Then after the idolator smoothed the grain (and it was no longer subject to the laws of terumah) they transferred the ownership back wealthy person, and thus no one was obligated in this particular tithe.

To counter this, the rabbis decided that the terumah of idol worshipers would be valid!

If we consider terumah to be a tax to the Temple, there is a lot in common with the actions of these wealthy individuals and the oil companies who set up offices in other nations to avoid paying US taxes. The rabbis noticed these tax loopholes in their system and thus added strictures on the biblical law in order to close them?

Maybe we should use the rabbis as a model and do the same?

As it turns out the senate is voting TODAY on at least part of the issue. I don't know enough about the bill to endorse it or reject it but one has to admit, it's funny when timing works out like it does.

The Lesser of Two Evils: Be a Good Samaritan (Menachot 64a)

A good puzzle in Friday's Daf:

Rava asked: If a sick person was assessed as needing to eat two dried figs on Shabbat (because doing so would save their life) and there are two dried figs attached to two stems or there are three figs attached to one stem which do we bring?

Here's the problem. If the person only needs two figs but we bring him three we have plucked on too many figs for him. Jewish law allows one to violate the laws of Shabbat (in this case the prohibition against reaping) in order to heal a sick person. However, anything above the bare minimum is considered a true violation and is not excused in order to help the sick person. This prohibition is called "ribui b'shurin."

On the other hand, if one plucks the two stems each with a single fig on it they have not wasted any figs,  however they have done TWO acts that are a desecration of Shabbat - two reaping are worse than one. So what is the answer?

According to the Talmud, it the answer is obvious. We should bring three figs on one stem. In the fight between a desecration of amount or a desecration of number of actions, the Talmud rules in favor of avoiding the latter.  For our commentators, the reason is because bringing three figs violates a prohibition of the rabbis while plucking twice violates a biblical prohibition.

However, I think there is something more here. When one needs to save a life, they must act fast. There are times when you know what you are doing is clearly wrong. No lifeguard should pull a potential spinal victim out by their neck. Doing so is irresponsible like choose to pluck twice when one only needs to pluck once. However, when you have the potential to save someone's life you shouldn't be held accountable for acting fast even if you make small mistakes along the way. Using the same example, you could have turned the spinal victim more smoothly, you could have hooked them up tighter to the backboard, however, if you do the best you can, you should not be held liable. Don't count the figs like you don't scrutinize the knots on the backboard. Just act!

Rava's puzzle teaches us that good samaritan laws applty in some form to the rabbis.

A coda to the last post (Menachot 62a)

It turns out there is a proof text for why we should engage as many people as possible in ritual acts. In discussing why there are three priests involved in a particular act of ritually waving a sacrifice.

The text reads as follows:
With the multitude of people is the glory of the King (Prov 14:28).

Turns out that sharing in tasks was so important that it wasn't just something the Kohanim did. Rather it was a value for which they looked for a precedent in the Bible.

Now I really have to find Ark openers for the next high holy day!

Ark Openers and Other Crucial Tasks (Menachot 52a)

I always hate being given the "honor" of opening the ark. "Can't the rabbi or cantor just do it," I ask myself. But I always say yes. I don't want to seem standoffish.

What I find is that sometimes the most successful synagogues actually make work for their congregants to keep them involved. Ark openers, english readings, people to undress the Torah, and people to hold it are actually not so crucial to the flow of the service.  And often, the service would seem smoother without these people. So why involve them in these tasks?

The reason is that the more you involve people the more buy-in you have from the community. A great example of this comes up in today's daf (or more precisely the daf quotes a piece of a very long Mishnah from Tamid 4:3). In essence here's the summary of the Mishnah.

There was a definite procedure to offer up the daily Tamid sacrifice in the Temple. To accomplish all the steps of offering the sacrifice, the texts mandate that no less than 9 priests become involved (although there is room for more). Here's the breakdown:

5 priests dealt with the animal (most holding sections of the animal that were cut up)
1 priest dealt with the entrails
2 priests dealt with the two kinds of grain offerings that happen along with the sacrifice
1 priest dealt with the wine offering that happen along with the sacrifice

And then of course there are:
1 priest who slaughters the animal
1 priest who throws the blood on the altar
1 priest who cleans up the ash

Although it's clear that we could have had less than 13 people involved in the sacrifice, I think it's telling that the Talmud mandates this number. Like the ark opener, the task is easily done by someone else (why can't the same person deal with the wine and later clean up the ashes?). However, getting these priests involved is good for everyone. It keeps them invested and feeling like they matter.

Perhaps I shouldn't be so down on ark openers after all?

Repetitive for a Reason (Menachot 44a)

Ever wonder why the line "I am the Lord your God" repeats itself in Numbers 15:41:

I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt to be your God. I am the LORD your God.’

Here's an interesting story that seeks to answer the question (translation Soncino). Even though it's not relevant I'm going the whole text because it's really THAT good:

It was taught: R. Nathan said, There is not a single precept in the Torah, even the lightest, whose reward is not enjoyed in this world; and as to its reward in the future world I know not how great it is. Go and learn this from the precept of tzitzit. Once a man, who was very scrupulous about the precept of tzitzit, heard of a certain harlot in one of the towns by the sea who accepted four hundred gold [denars] for her hire. He sent her four hundred gold [denars] and appointed a day with her. When the day arrived he came and waited at her door, and her maid came and told her, ‘That man who sent you four hundred gold [denars] is here and waiting at the door’; to which she replied ‘Let him come in’. When he came in she prepared for him seven beds, six of silver and one of gold; and between one bed and the other there were steps of silver, but the last were of gold. She then went up to the top bed and lay down upon it naked. He too went up after her in his desire to sit naked with her, when all of a sudden the four fringes [of his garment] struck him across the face; whereupon he slipped off and sat upon the ground. She also slipped off and sat upon the ground and said, ‘By the Roman Capitol, I spear I will not leave you alone until you tell me what blemish you saw in me. ‘By the Temple’, he replied, ‘I swear I have never seen a woman as beautiful as you are; but there is one precept which the Lord our God has commanded us, it is called tzitzit, and with regard to it the expression ‘I am the Lord your God’ is twice written (In Numbers 15:41), signifying, I am He who will exact punishment in the future, and I am He who will give reward in the future. Now [the tzitzit] appeared to me as four witnesses [testifying against me]’.

She said, ‘I will not leave you until you tell me your name, the name of your town, the name of your teacher, the name of your school in which you study the Torah’. He wrote all this down and handed it to her. Thereupon she arose and divided her estate into three parts; one third for the government, one third to be distributed among the poor, and one third she took with her in her hand; the bed clothes, however, she retained. She then came to the Beth Hamidrash of R. Hiyya, and said to him, ‘Master, give instructions about me that they make me a proselyte’. ‘My daughter’, he replied; ‘perhaps you have set your eyes on one of the disciples?’ She thereupon took out the script and handed it to him. ‘Go’, said he ‘and enjoy your acquisition’. Those very bed-clothes which she had spread for him for an illicit purpose she now spread out for him lawfully. This is the reward [of the precept] in this world; and as for its reward in the future world I know not how great it is.

The story speaks for itself and is a great example of humor in the bible (I mean come on! His tzitzit come to life and start hitting him!). However, in addition there is a theological message. We are reminded twice that Adonai is "our God" at the end of the Veahavtah (Numbers 15:41) as a further connection to the Shema. If God is really ONE then God is responsible for both the good and the bad in the world.

The Rabbis have come up with something brilliant. We begin the Shema with a statement of monotheism and (with the help of this Midrash) we end the third paragraph of the Shema with the same statement. "I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt to be your God. I am the LORD your God" has become a bookend to the prayer that reminds us just how ONE God really is.

Dealing with difficult texts: an acharei mot sermon

Et Zachar Lo Tishkav Mishkavei Ishah, To’evah Hi
Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination (Leviticus 18:22)

Each year, rabbis around the country cringe when they reach Leviticus 18 in the yearly Torah cycle. There’s so much great stuff in the Torah, commandments to love our neighbor as ourselves, reminders to value the poor, widow and orphan, acts of courage and admissions of faith. But what do we do with a text like Leviticus 18:22, that speaks so harshly about the Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgendered community? How do we make peace with a text that says so explicitly “Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination”? And then goes on a few chapters later to say that we should stone them for their actions?

Leviticus 18:22 is not the only difficult text we Jews must face. It’s not the only text that fears the other, that calls the actions of people in our community an abomination. The Torah is filled with troubling notions and idea with which we must wrestle. In truth, there are dozens of ways to look at difficult texts. Using Leviticus 18:22 as a jumping off point, I want to explore four of these in tonight’s sermon.

The first approach to difficult texts is to skip them. Texts like Leviticus 18:22 have silenced millions around the world. Perhaps we can fight back by silencing it. Since no rabbi can cover a whole portion in his sermon and Reform congregations only choose a part of the portion each week to read aloud, it’s actually quite easy to avoid this troubling passage altogether. With such great stuff in this week’s potion like the first Yom Kippur there’s no lack of other things to discuss.

In fact, there is a long tradition in the Reform movement of replacing troubling texts. A few generations ago, the esteemed scholar Jacob Petekowski published a short essay where he outlined the characteristics of Reform prayer. In it, he explained that one may remove all notions of resurrection, angelology, yearning for the third Temple, and most importantly hateful and xenophobic notions. Its for this reason that the Reform movement has decided to change the traditional Yom Kippur afternoon Torah reading from Leviticus 18 which equates homosexuality with incest, and bestiality to Leviticus 19 which speaks of justice and holiness.

The next approach to dealing with difficult texts is to tell their story. Each text has a context and each has something of value to teach. Take our upcoming Passover haggadah. Personally, I struggle with one particular passage in a traditional haggadah where we implore God to “Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not know you.” True, today it seems odd to curse our neighbors simply because they do not believe in God. However, let’s tell the story of this text.

Our haggadah is a tapestry of text and history that were inserted into the Passover seder over time. This particular text came about during the time of the crusades, when the Jewish people were oppressed and powerless. When they implored God to “pour out your wrath” what they were actually doing was demanding a bit of control and power in a world where they lacked it. We may not agree with the message of this prayer in our haggadah but we can certainly identify with the emotions. We have all felt powerless, fearful, and angry. Each time we read this troubling text in the Haggadah we are reminded that these feelings are only natural and that our story is not unique. We fail to stand alone. Our story is intertwined with our ancestors. We have a long tradition of powerless and anger to fall back on.

The story of Levitucs 18:22 is no less powerful. Scholars have pointed out that the prohibition against homosexuality comes directly after the prohibition for child sacrifice to the demon God, Moloch. Somehow, the two were intertwined in the minds of our Biblical authors. Moloch and the cultures who worshiped him were scary to our ancestors. Because some scholars think that homosexuality was involved in the cult worship of Moloch, it seems only natural that our Bible would prohibit it. How could they have ever imagined that nearly 3,000 years later monogamous love between two men could be normative? When we read the word “Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination” we are reminded of the fear and defensiveness of our ancestors as they sought to distance themselves from the strange and dangerous cult around them. To many of us in this room, we understand what it’s like to protect our children from what we see as dangerous. Leviticus 18:22 reminds us that we are not alone in this fear.

The third approach to troubling texts are to reinterpret them. At face value “Do not lie with a male as one lies with a woman; it is an abomination” seems troubling, but what happens if we look closely at what the words mean? Rabbi Steven Greenberg, the first openly gay Orthodox rabbi in America teaches that one may deal with this difficult text by narrowly defining a single word “tishkav” to “lie down with.” In his book, “Wrestling with God and Men” Greenberg points out that the word “to lie down” is often associated with violence. The word appears in a number of rape scenes in the Bible and is hardly ever used as a part of a loving and mutual relationship. For this reason, Greenberg sees our Leviticus 18:22 text not as a blanket statement against homosexuality but as prohibition against abuses of power in relationships. “Do not lie with a male” becomes “Do not lie FORCEFULLY with a male” and becomes immediately less troubling.

The final approach is to use the troubling text as a mnemonic for social change. Today the GLBT community does not have equal rights. While religions, races, and sexes are protected from workplace discrimination, the GLBT community is not offered these same protections. One may be fired based solely on their sexual preference. Furthermore, gay and lesbian couples are not afforded the same fiscal, medical, and family protections as other couples. It’s harder from them to adopt children and harder for them to visit their loved one in a hospital. If we are all created “b’tzelem elohim” in the image of God, how can some of us have right while others lack them?

Each year, when we read Leviticus 18:22, no matter what we are doing, we are forced for even a short time to engage the issue of the rights of the GLBT community. We are snapped out of our complacency and our comfort and forced to engage our texts, our traditions and our world. Today, it is our silence that is the to’evah, the abomination and each year we read our troubling texts to remind of us of this.

In truth, there are merits and flaws to all of these approaches. Some tug at our heartstrings. Some are highly consistent. And some very empowering. However, some ignore the 3,000 years of textual and legal development since these text were written. Some come off as idealistic. And some fail to engage at all with the issues at hand. However, each method is highly personal and its impossible to say which is right.

Whether or not you find our Leviticus 18:22 text as difficult as I do is up to you. However, my hope for us all is that when we find texts that are troubling we can develop a method that that helps us come to terms with it. Then, whether we ignore it, expand it, reinterpret it, use it to empower us, or employ any other method we choose, we can add our voice into the 3,000 year conversation that has surrounded this particular text and make them just a little less troubling for all of us.