The Killer Spotlight (San. 14)

Being a leader is hard work. You are always in the spotlight, always scrutinized and always criticized. I haven't developed a thick skin yet so every and any comment phrases me and subsequently, I obsess about it.

On Saturday's Daf (San. 14a) we get a great characterization of a reluctant leader. We read that R. Zeira would always avoid being ordained. When others would get ready to pursue lives as Rabbis and judges, Zeira would find an excuse not to come to ordination. When asked about this he said, "One should always be in the dark and if he stays there, he will live." 

Rashi explain that Zeira's statement is a call for us all to stay out the limelight and shun publich office because being a leader "buries a person". This isn't a new idea. Pesachim 87b also teaches "T. Johanan said: ‘Woe to lordship which buries [slays] its possessor, for there is not a single prophet who did not outlive four kings. " As it turns out, kings like Rabbis have their work cut out for them.

However, R. Zeira didn't shirk leadership forever. Instead he changed his mind when he heard a statement by Rabbi Elazar, "No person rises to a position of greatness unless [heaven] forgives all his sins." When he heard this Zeira sought to be ordained.

Here's what I love about Elazar's statement. In essence the statement speaks to the reward of leadership. Doing good and helping people are not always enough. Next to stress, heart attacks, and headaches, personal satisfaction doesn't fair so well. So what did the Rabbis do? They developed a doctrine that says that if one rises to a position of greatness all their sins will be forgiven. Now that's a reward!

Today we too can't rely just on personal satisfaction. While we don't have a doctrine that promises us forgiveness if we rise to power, we do have money. In the book Crashing the Gate Jerome Armstrong (and others) speak about how many liberal young Americans are choosing not to work for Washington non-profits because coming from good schools they won't be compensated for their talents and movement into the Washington spotlight (this is the opposite of the Republican party that does shell out the money for talented young people). While some graduates do go into this work (and are wonderful at it) many more go to Wall Street where they can make more money.

As we debate salaries and question financial decisions I think our daf today is a wonderful reminder of the true costs of leadership and the need to provide meaningful rewards to those who step into the spotlight. 

A Tale of Two Haftarot - Haftarah Zachor

Either:
I Sam. 15:1-34 or
Esther 7:1-10, 8:15-17

This week is Shabbat Zachor. On this Shabbat, we remember the command to blot out the memory of Amalek. Somewhat counter-intuitive, but a commandment nonetheless:

You shall blot out the memory of Amalek from under the heavens. Do not forget!
- Exodus 17:19

The traditional Haftarah for this parasha comes from I Samuel. However, the Reform movement reads from Esther. The connection is that Haman (BOOO!) is said to be descended from Amalek.

So…what are we supposed to do here? I am continually working through my opinions of what to do with a text the Reform movement has decided not to read. Keep in mind, that these texts are not excised or considered less than the other texts. They are merely replaced with another text whose message is more appealing. Apparently, a description of an Israelite total war, wherein they are asked to destroy men, women, children, and animals is too much to be read publicly on Shabbat. In this sense, I agree. The reading is counter to our values and our understanding of the way nations should interact.

The Esther passage is not much better, however. Esther, tells the king that Haman wants to kill her and her people. This leads to Haman being killed. The part of chapter 8 that is missing, however, from the reading, is the part where the Jews take all of Haman’s possessions. Also missing, the rampage that the Jews go on in revenge.

Which passage makes more sense to read? Can we just skip a piece of history that causes us discomfort?

Neither of these readings is very positive. They are both about war and revenge and the price that is paid.

The Samuel chapter ends with Saul losing his kingship because he didn’t destroy the livestock (on top of a number of other issues with listening to God) as God had commanded. Saul wanted to save them and offer them to God as a sacrifice. This is not what God asked for. Destroying the Amelkites, in this case, destroys the King. His sons will die and his line will be no more.

The Book of Esther is filled with many things. One thing it doesn’t have…God. The Jewish rampage leaves God out of the picture. The Jewish revenge on Haman is brutal, seemingly unnecessary, and yes, out of character. They destroy the ten sons of Haman (chapter 9). His name is literally blotted out of our reading with loud noises.

In their downfalls, Saul and Haman appear to have more in common then we might think.

Saul is removed from the favor of God::Haman is removed from the favor of the King.
Saul’s sons are killed::Haman’s sons are killed.
Saul meets an early death on the day of battle::Haman meets an early death on the day of battle.
Saul is replaced by David::Haman is replaced by Mordechai

What can we learn from these two examples?

What, also, can be learned from the fact that Amalek, who we are commanded to blot from our memory in Exodus, is mentioned many times again in the Tanakh (from Torah to Chronicles)?

What is our Amalek? What would we like to forget but cannot? What would we prefer not be a part of our history?

Perhaps the Esther story and the rampage that follows is something in our history that we would rather forget. And yet, the calendar puts these two in proximity, every year as a reminder of our greatest triumph, surviving the wilderness against difficult circumstances and enemies, and our moment of zeal when God is forgotten. Moreover, we celebrate with raucous readings of the Megillah, carnivals, games and prizes, costumes, and drinking so much that we can’t tell who is our enemy and who is our friend. When we do all these things, are we hiding from our past? Are we blotting out the bad? Or, are we saying that if I can’t tell who is my enemy, I’ll treat everyone like they’re my friend? (The drinks help with that, too.)

This year as we blot out the name of Haman, our enemy, perhaps we should consider what it means to blot out our history, and if we ever can. We may not like what happened in the past, but are we therefore free to forget it? Can we skip over something that makes us uncomfortable?

Moreover, should we?

Right Down to the Wire (San 13)

As someone who has to spend a large chunk of the summer planning for the High Holy Days, I understand that sometimes the Jewish calendar isn't always fair. Yesterday's Daf  (San 13) gave me a fascinating insight into why that is.

There are 12 months in a Jewish calendar. These months go on the lunar cycle. Subsequently a Jewish year has 11 fewer days than our calendar. If uncorrected this means that we would be celebrating our holidays earlier and earlier until we were eating Matzah in the fall and building Sukkot in the spring.

However, the Torah explicitly says that we need to celebrate Passover in the spring and Sukkot in the fall. In order to do this we add a month every once and a while called Adar Sheni to fix this. Today's Daf asked the question: when do we add this month and when do we not?

As with most things the Rabbis can't agree. Some say that if the fall equinox does not occur by the time that the intermediate days of Sukkot start then we add the month. Others say it's toward the end of Sukkot. Others say it's actually determined by whether passover falls in the spring. So to find out who wins this debate I looked at Maimonidies (turns out there's no citation for this in the Shulkan Aruch).

Here writes:  

[An extra month is added,] making the year full, because of three factors: a) the vernal [spring] equinox; b) the ripening[of the barley crop], and c) the blooming of the fruit trees.
What is implied? When the court calculates and determines that the vernal equinox will fall on the sixteenth of Nisan or later, the year is made full. The month that would have been Nisan is made the second Adar, and thus Pesach will fall in the spring. This factor [alone] is sufficient for the court to make the year full; other factors need not be considered.

Here's where it get's tricky. The vernal equinox this year falls on March 20, 2010. This year, the 16th of Nisan falls on the 31st of March. This means we're fine for this year but that next year (taking away 11 days) we'd be right down to the wire. Then we'd have to return to the big question that was posed in yesterday's Daf: is the equinox the first day of spring or the last day of winter.

Lucky for us we'll add another month before that. Moreover we have a system in place to decide the months. So I guess we're back to the drawing board about how to get Rosh Hashannah later this year. The Rabbi's said that if the infrastructure wasn't in place (roads and bridges after the winter) to allow pilgrims to offer their passover sacrifices in the Temple we could add the extra month to help them get there. Will my unfinished sermons count for an extra month?

Kitzur Chapter 34- The Laws of Charity

Being that this is my first post on the blog, I just wanted to thank Marc for encourage me to document my thoughts as I study the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch. I've been studying for a couple of months now and am looking forward to posting on a somewhat regular basis.

Jill - your post made me think a lot about the chapter I just studied, so here are my 2cents..

I just finished chapter 34 of the Kitzur which deals with laws of charity and giving tzedakah:

Living in New York, those in need constantly approach us in the subways and on the streets for money. I generally follow the advice of Mayor Bloomberg and tell myself that I will give to organizations and not to the homeless person on the street. Tradition teaches, however, that it is "forbidden to turn a person away empty-handed," citing Psalm 74:21 which states, "Let not the oppressed turn back in disgrace." When we do feed the hungry person, it should be the best and choicest food at our table. If we have nothing to give the beggar than we should console him or her with words.

I must admit that I have not developed a practice of how to give to those who ask on the street. The halacha makes a lot of sense actually - treat people with dignity. If you can, provide them with the best meal that you can. In the least, say a kind word to them and console them through words. Like Jill said, I often do things out of convenience or if I feel the person asking seems "deserving." Sometimes I give to performers if I like their act, other times I want to give but only happen to have a twenty-dollar bill in my pocket so that person that might have gotten my dollar misses out on a hot cup of coffee.

It's easy to say that we as Reform Jews take social justice seriously, and I know many of us feel like we've had this conversation before, but for me at least, it usually ends at the conversation, and while I always think about it every time someone asks me for money, I've never developed any kind of serious practice as to giving in the street. Maybe it's as simple as keeping some dollar bills or quarters always on hand so that I might be able to fulfill this law of giving to those who ask. Maybe it's simply looking people in the eye as I say "I'm sorry, I don't have any change." If there is one new piece of Jewish law that I can take on and take seriously, it is this one.

Intercalation: In its own time? (San 12)

Today’s daf includes a heated debate about questions related to “intercalation.” Who can determine a leap month? Where? When? For what reasons? One of the overriding themes of this elaborate discussion is that intercalation must take place in its own time. In other words, there is a time and a place for determining a leap year…

The place: Judea (11b3)
The time: After Rosh HaShanah and before the 30th of Adar

Of course, there are exceptions...If, for instance, you are concerned that the ruling government in your land might outlaw intercalation proceedings in the coming year, you may determine a leap year before Rosh Hashanah. If this is the case, it is advisable to send a message in a secret code so that the government doesn’t figure out what’s going on… An example of such a secret code may be:

“a pair was returning from Rakas and an eagle captured it” (12a2).

This obviously means that this year should be a leap year. Duh.

Joking aside, some of the reasons for determining the calendar “in its own time” are both practical and compelling. If, for example, the community were experiencing a famine one should not declare a leap year, for such a decision would force the people to delay the harvest of Passover an extra month (12a1)

Additionally, we are taught that we should not determine a leap year this year for the benefit of a future year (12a2 footnote 30). In other words, we shouldn’t declare a leap year in order to “fix” the future calendar for matters of convenience or personal preference.

These reasons actually make a lot of sense to my modern mind. It goes without saying that we should put the needs of the hungry in our midst before issues of the calendar. The “convenience” argument discussed in 12a2, however, is one that I think many Reform Jews are struggling with today. In the process of determining what elements of Jewish tradition are relevant in our lives, there is a great temptation to fall into the trap of “convenient Judaism.” I often wonder if some of the practices I have adopted are meaningful and mindful attempts to bring Judaism into the modern world, or if they are just more convenient.

Shockingly, or not, today you can simply ask Google what the calendar will be like, in oh, lets say the year 9999 (6238 on the Gregorian calendar). Note: you can also export this calendar to Outlook, Apple Ical, Google, etc… In creating this calendar, we have actually done exactly what the Rabbis in Sanhedrin are warning us not to do!

Though I am not advocating going back to the method suggested in Sanhedrin, I think the Rabbis have a lot to teach us about mindfulness and the value of making decisions “in their own time.” Though we might be able to determine the lunar cycle years in advance, we have no way of determining when there will be hunger in our midst or a bad agriculture season. Today, the rabbis taught me to make an effort to step outside my own prescribed calendar of Jewish practice, and try to live and experience each moment.

Check it out

Interesting posting by John in response to my gossip article

Click here to read!

Did I ever tell you about Gossip? (San 9)

One of the big movements in Jewish summer camps and religious schools is to teach kids about the importance of avoiding lashon hara (often translated as gossip).

We read in Bava Batra (164a) that lashon hara is a sin for which a person engages everyday.

Here is an article that comes down very hard on gossip.

However, I wonder about this. I want to point to two cases where gossip said to do good. The first we find in todays daf (San 9). Here we learn that if a women is suspected of adultery and there are no witnesses, we shouldn't rule out that witnesses will not come forward eventually. Word of mouth is a powerful thing and after the news spreads like rapid-fire that a certain women is on trial, anyone who might have information will know to come forward.

The other case is similar. We read in the third chapter of Bava Batra about a concept called chazakah. This concept says that if I live in a property for 3 years and no one complains that I have stolen it, it is mine by presumption. The reason for this is that even if the owner is in a far off land, people like to gossip and he will learn soon enough about the stolen property. 3 years will give enough time for him to find out and get back to his property to kick me off.

Jews have a name for people who deal in gossip (yenta) and it's often a derogatory term. Today Rosalind Wiseman has coined a new term in queen bees and wanna bees , the Banker, who deals in information and uses it as social capital.

Nevertheless, we learn from these two examples that just like torture the Rabbi didn't take a definitive stand on gossip. That is, unless we've been translating lashon hara wrong in our camps and schools and it means something more nuanced than gossip...

If we learn anything from the ethics of lashon hara it might be that when it smells of corruption maybe its your job to gossip about it. Thoughts?

Speaking of Wisdom... -Haftarah Terumah

I Kings 5:26-6:13

After Jill’s wonderful post, and then Marc’s wonderful post relating to Jill’s wonderful post, I was not about to be outdone…

The first line of this week’s Haftarah:

וַיי, נָתַן חָכְמָה לִשְׁלֹמֹה, כַּאֲשֶׁר, דִּבֶּר-לוֹ
And Adonai gave Solomon wisdom, as Adonai had promised him.

The last lines of this week’s Haftarah:

הַבַּיִת הַזֶּה אֲשֶׁר-אַתָּה בֹנֶה, אִם-תֵּלֵךְ בְּחֻקֹּתַי וְאֶת-מִשְׁפָּטַי תַּעֲשֶׂה, וְשָׁמַרְתָּ אֶת-כָּל-מִצְו‍ֹתַי, לָלֶכֶת בָּהֶם--וַהֲקִמֹתִי אֶת-דְּבָרִי אִתָּךְ, אֲשֶׁר דִּבַּרְתִּי אֶל-דָּוִד אָבִיךָ.
וְשָׁכַנְתִּי, בְּתוֹךְ בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל; וְלֹא אֶעֱזֹב, אֶת-עַמִּי יִשְׂרָאֵל
With regard to this house you are building—if you follow My laws and observe My rules and faithfully keep My commandments, I will fulfill for you the promise that I gave to your father David: I will abide among the children of Israel and I will never forsake My people Israel.

Solomon is granted wisdom, and we immediately learn that he has made treaties with his neighbors, essentially establishing peace in the region. It does not say that God gave him כח or strength to make this happen. Nor does it say that God gave him an army to accomplish this. Peace, or at least a friendship treaty, comes from wisdom. Since we have already learned that wisdom is usually personified as female, thanks to Marc, we could say that peace requires a feminine touch. At this point in the “peace” process, I’d give it over to women. Men have mad too much of a mess of things already.

But that’s not what I wanted to mention this Shabbat…

The last promise seems to be the one you’d ask for first, right? I want God here first, 'cause if I have that, then I don’t really need wisdom. Well, in an interesting way, Solomon already had what he needed and he didn’t even know it…

Earlier in I Kings, we read that Solomon was visited by God in a dream. God said: “Ask, what shall I give you?” The Genie-in-a-bottle resemblance notwithstanding, God basically grants Solomon one wish in this dream.

What would you wish for?

What should Solomon wish for?

Solomon asks for “an understanding mind to judge [God’s] people, to distinguish between good and bad.” Because Solomon asks for this, and not for wealth or power, God grants him all of the above. It appears that Solomon had it all along! And, as long as he doesn't mess up, God will be there, by his side.

Solomon was wise enough to know what to ask for. He knew the right thing to do as a young King of Israel was to get the tools to be a good leader. One of those tools, as our Haftarah points out, is wisdom. Though it is clear he was wise beyond his years even before the dream, we see how his wisdom allows him to make peace, expand the land, acquire wealth for the nation and build God a house to live in.

When we look to our leaders, what qualities do we look for and value? I, for one, am going to continue in my quest to find a leader who is wise. Hopefully, I won’t have to wait too much longer…

Wisdom of females, Wisdom is female (San 5)

Jill, your wonderful post got me thinking, obviously our orthodox friend on the train hasn't read today's daf.  In it we see Rav (important 2nd century Rabbi) introduced as the R. Chiya's sister's son (even though his is also his brother's son - more on this below).  To complicate matters, they introduced his brother Rabbah Bar Chanah as R. Chiya's brother' s son. So why the discrepancy? Why introduce one brother through the male lineage and one through a female?  To understand this, we have to look at R. Chiya's interesting pedigree.

Here's what Imrei Binah explains:

Abba bar Acha Karsala was a widower with a son, Aivo, and he married a widow with a daughter. [Aivo and that daughter were thus not related]. R. Chiya was born of this second marriage of Abba bar Acha and the widow. Eventually R. Chiya's half-brother, Aivo married the half sister of R. Chiya (since they were not actually related, but only stepbrother and stepsister), and Rav was their child. Thus, Rav was the son of R. Chiya's half brother as well as the song of his-half sister. Rabbah bar Chanah was a child of Chanah who was R. Chiya full brother. Rabbah's grandparents were Abba bar Acha Karsala and the widow.

If this is confusing that's ok. I had to read it 3 or 4 times before I got it. Move over Brady bunch, this is much more interesting!

The point here is not the lineage but that because Rav was both the son of R. Chiya's sister and brother he could have chosen either label (brother's son or sister's son). So why choose to link him with the sister? Because, the Talmud explains, women are a sign of wisdom. By linking Rav to Chiya's sister, Chiya is alluding to Rav's supperior wisdom.

This got me thinking, why is wisdom is always linked to females? Why is it that in Proverbs, Wisdom is always personified as female? Why is that when God communicates to the Rabbis, she does it through a Bat Kol (a feminine noun that we can define as a divine echo)? The easy answer is that my fiancee is always right, but there has to be something more to this!

Here's one thought. Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (the RaMChal) one wrote that the process that we know as chochmah (wisdom) takes place on the left side of the brain. In his view, this side of the brain deals with kindness, mercy and most of all judgement. This holds up to our modern understanding of the brain. Left-brain people are more rational by nature.

So what does this have to do with anything? Maybe our train gawker needs a little bit of that female chochmah to beef up his judgment and energize his kindness. Or else maybe he just needs to real Jill's post. COME ON DUDE, DIDN'T YOUR MOTHER TEACH YOU BETTER THAN THAT?

You go Jill!

Schottenstein and Skinny Jeans (San 5)

I'm usually not the type to be overly concerned with women's issues or standing up for the feminist voice.

Perhaps this is because I go to a female dominated rabbinical school where riding the elevator with renowned female scholars is just another day in the life. This attitude could also be a product of the way I grew up and the values ingrained in my mind from my family and culture. To put it bluntly, I am accepted in my world and since I don't usually put myself in non-liberal environments, feminism hasn't been a big part of consciousness.

This all changed when I started doing daf yomi on the subway (I ride the F train) three days ago. This morning I experienced the CONTINUOUS unfriendly glares of an orthodox man trying to reconcile the combination of Schottenstein and Skinny Jeans.

Ironically, today's daf deals with issues of authority afforded to rabbinic leaders. Descendants of the Reish Geluta of Bavel are more authoritative than descendants of the Nasi in Eretz Yisrael. Why, you may ask? Well, the Tosafot say the reason is that the Reish Geluta was descended from the male line of the Davidic House, whereas the Nasi was descended from the female line! (5a footnote 13) There are endless discussions about why certain scholars have authority to rule independently in certain situations while others do not.

There was a particularly interesting discussion about whether a student has the authority to render a decision in the vicinity of his teacher. The conclusion is that if a student is within three parsaot of his teacher, he cannot render a decision but if the distance between student and teacher is greater than three parsaot, he does have authority to render a decision. A "parsa" is measured in time, not distance. Three parsaot is considered a third of a days travels, or three to four hours (Mishnah Berura 249:1)

As I was approaching the Broadway-Lafayette street station, I regretted my current proximity to my HUC teachers... I considered riding the train with this man to Queens so that I could render his stares "tamei."

Cool New Blog

Check out a new blog by John Crimmings, Examine the Contents. His latest post uses a cool metaphor of a magic eye to explain how he views text:

If yesterday I learned to embrace the arbitrary, today I learned that I will need to embrace confusion.  Sanhedrin 3 introduces the Gemara's response to the Mishnah in Sanhedrin 2, which means we're back to discussing the intricacies of monetary rulings and the required number of judges, and whether said judges should be ordained, or know about finances, or have brown hair or black hair, be a Democrat or Republican, etc, etc.  I had a hard time following the arguments and details, and rather than map out with flow charts the twists and turns of each claim, I'm going to settle in with my confusion and hope that some sense pops up.  Like starring at a Magic Eye poster.

The Rabbinic Mind: (Don't) follow the majority (San 3b)

Throughout school my teachers have drilled one idea into my head: you must look up proof texts. I usually don't listen, especially because ArtScroll does it for me. Today, I did and couldn't believe what I found. The foundational text that explains why courts need to have an odd number of judges and that gives the judges power to rule on a simple majority is a text from Exodus 23:2

לִנְטֹת אַחֲרֵי רַבִּים--לְהַטֹּת

To decide, according to the majority [the matter], shall be decided (Artscroll translation)

A note about the Hebrew: the root that appears twice in this verse (נטה) actually means to lean. The Rabbis translated it the way we would use the word to lean in colloquial English, "the judge leaned toward your side and ruled in your favor." However, this is not the meaning of the verse in its original context. 

Often this root means to corrupt or distort. This is the original context:

לֹא-תִהְיֶה אַחֲרֵי-רַבִּים, לְרָעֹת; וְלֹא-תַעֲנֶה עַל-רִב, לִנְטֹת אַחֲרֵי רַבִּים--לְהַטֹּת

Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil; neither shalt thou bear witness in a cause to turn aside after a multitude to pervert justice (JPS Translation).

In essence the verse is giving directions for judges; they should not follow a majority to pervert justice but stand up for their beleifs and judge fairly. Not only does the text not speak to the makeup of the courts but it says (in a different context) that judges should NOT seek to follow a majority. 

What is so amazing about the Talmud's use of this text is that the Rabbis had a vision of a court system. The judges would be odd in number, that way there would never be a tie. Because the Bible never spoke to this, the Rabbis had to get creative. They took the proof from a verse that basically said the opposite, they changed the context and created a foundation for their legal system. 

What I love about this text is that the Rabbis weren't doing this arbitrarily but, I believe, thought they were doing what was right in God's eyes. There are many things in my life that I also have that same conviction (gay rights, gun control, health care). If they can do this to the text, why can't we as well? Where do we draw the line between using the text and abusing it? How much attention should we pay to context?

Rosenzweig Meets Sanhedrin. (Sanhedrin 2)

The first day of my daf yomi experience also happens to coincide with the day I am attempting to write a coherent paper about Franz Rosenzweig. This overwhelming task is influencing, and likely overshadowing my understanding of the opening mishnah of Sanhedrin.

Rosenzweig, attempting to immerse himself in a theology unattached to philosophical reasoning, discusses the "possibility of experiencing miracles" in his introduction to Part II of his book, The Star of Redemption. In this introduction, Rosenzweig explains how, for much of Jewish history, miracles were accepted as reliable and credible, and were not seen as contradictory or a threat to natural law.

The validity of miracles, he explained, relied on judicial proof. Eyewitnesses were needed to confirm both the prediction and fulfillment of the miracle. Rosenzweig says, "Thus the proof of miracles must basically fall back on eyewitnesses. In taking their sworn testimony, their personal credibility will be decisive, as well as the estimate of their capacity for observation, and even their numbers." (The Star of Redemption 96)

The notion of rooting miracles within a judicial system that relies on the subjective reasoning of human beings makes me wonder about the role these courts played in relation to their understanding of God in their world. As we read in the mishnah, the sanhedrin is designated to rule over cases concerning a shevet (tribe), sheker (false prophet) or kohen Gadol (high priest). These three cases could be considered cases dealing with the realm of God and perhaps miracles. In addition to numbers, what is it that gives the sanhedrin greater authority to rule over such cases? According to Rosenzweig, shouldn't each individual self or soul be accorded the authority to witness or experiencing the realm of the divine?

As a reform Jew, I question what it means to experience or witness miracles in my life and as an emerging reform Jewish leader, I constantly struggle with the authority afforded to me as a rabbinic authority and witness in the lives of Jews around me. I'm looking forward to starting this journey though sanhedrin, and exploring the world of the Talmudic judiciary system!

woooo! go team!

The end is the beginning: we will return to you

Today was the siyum (the end celebration) for tractate Bava Batra. It's been 176 days since I first dove headfirst into the world of property, contract, and inheritance laws. I want to conclude with a quote from the final Mishnah of the tractate:

Rabbi Yishmael said: One who wishes to become wise should occupty himself with the study of monetary law for there is no branch of Torah greater than it, for they are like a welling fountain.

The Jewish legal scholar, Rabbi Israel of Ruzhin, explains that Rabbi Yishmael's statement is apt because "no other branch of Torah law provides the human intellect with as wide-ranging a field for reasoning and analysis. Hense, its study sharpens the mind."

Although I'd been study a page of Talmud everyday for a number of months before I jumped into the offical cycle, I began my official foray into the Daf Yomi world this past spring. Counting the 119 pages of monitary law in Bava Metzia, I've been studying this legal minutia for 295 days strait. Over this period, I've stretched myself in new ways. I've incorperated words like lein, guarentor, encumbered property, and partial admission oaths (modeh b'mikzat) into my vocabulary and through this blog have begun to explore what this journey has meant to me as a modern Jew trying to fit these laws into my secular worldview.

Tomorrow I leave monetary law and begin a 113-day study of criminal law. I'll enter into the world of death penalties (do I deserve strangling or stoning?) and the intricacies of court procedures. However, I won't leave the past 295 days far behind. I am and will continue to be shaped by these two tractates. Through them, I have developed a better sense of legal thinking, a truer appreciation for the Rabbis and for argumenation and a better sense of where God and my personal ethic fits into the text (more on this in later posts).

Today was an end. Tomorrow will be a beginning. I look forward to returning to you Bava Batra.

Duping Women In Marriage (Bava Batra 174b)

I am currently in the middle of writing a paper on Rachel Adler's theology and her book Engendering Judaism.  The book has been a wonderful window into Jewish feminist thought. But more importantly, it has opened my eyes to the power plays of the Rabbis as they choose where to give women a voice and where to ignore them. 

Today's Daf (Bava Batra 174b) is a great example of this. Here we learn that if someone agrees to be a guarantor for a Ketubah we ignore this (the Ketubah is the marriage document that provides money for the wife if a divorce happens) . This means that a guarantor can agree in writing that if my Ketubah says that I will pay my wife 200 zuzim if we divorce, he will make sure she gets her money whether or not I can pay.  However, this agreement means nothing. No matter what (whether I am wealthy when he agrees or poor) his statement is a sign of good faith but not binding. 

So why go through this song and dance if nothing happens with this agreement? Because the guarantor is doing a "mitzvah." According to tradition, it is a commandment for a man and a women to marry and procreate. By putting his name on the Ketubah as a guarantor, the husband is easing any fears the women may have about marrying. She is never told that she may not be guaranteed her divorce money. Rather she is ushered into a marriage with a false sense of security. When the Rabbis look further at the rationale of this law we read: 

לאו מידי חסרה

He is not costing her anything

I would argue that he indeed costing her something, power and autonomy. As Adler explains, often when the Rabbis create laws that subjugate women it is to protect themselves and make themselves feel more powerful. Here it is no different. We are to dupe women into marriages that have a facade of a support structure in order to save the (male) guarantor the burden of following through with his promise. 

The beauty of reading texts through a liberal lens is that we don't have to take them at face value. This is a sexist and unfair law that we don't have to follow. Nevertheless, it is important because it provides a mirror for men (like me) to question the times when we act similarly out of insecurity, fear, and a need to feel more powerful at the expense of women. 

Managing (Y)our Money - Haftarah Shekalim

II Kings 12:5-17

This week begins the five special weeks preceding Passover and as such, we have special additions to the Torah as well as special Haftarot that are assigned.

This week, the additional Torah reading describes making contributions to maintain communal institutions.[1] This Haftarah, therefore relates to this idea.

We have here a story about managing money in the Temple in Jerusalem. The King Jehoash says to the priests in the temple that they are to take the money that comes in, either as payment or as freewill offering, and use it to make repairs. The repairs are not made and a new system is devised, essentially creating a tzedakah box that collects all the money, followed by the king’s scribe and the High Priest coming together to count and dole out the money to the workers.

This speaks to a number of issues. One, commentators tell us that the priests didn’t order the repairs because they felt that the task of managing money and hiring labor was beneath their priestly role. Two, there is something nice here about how religious leaders and the lay leadership work together ultimately to make improvements in the institution. The work doesn’t get done when one orders the other to do it. It has to come from a combined effort of the priest and the court of the king to work properly.

Three – and I think most importantly – the message about fiscal responsibility in an institution rings clear here. Though the purpose of Shabbat Shekalim is to remind us of the ½ shekel tax that went to the Temple (therefore reminding us of the institution thereby preventing us from losing a connection to it) that idea speaks less to a current situation when the threat of forced conversion is minimal. What does resonate, particularly this year, is verses 12:14-15.

But, the money that was brought to the House of Adonai was not used to make silver cups, snuffers, basins, trumpets or any gold or silver vessels. It was given to the artisans, using it to repair the House of Adonai.

The term for artisan עושה המלאכה really is translated to the doers of the work. The workers, who must have been skilled artisans, are paid before the Temple gets its vessels. All the workers get paid. Rather than adorn the Temple with the finery that suits it, the “repair task force” makes sure to pay the workers and the artisans that complete the work. This is fiscal responsibility at its finest. Everyone pays to make sure that the Temple is up and running and in good shape. By focusing on what needs to be done, as well as making sure to pay the labor force a proper wage, the priests and the court of the king are doing a good job managing the people’s money. (This is in sharp contrast to the chapters that precede this story, which are replete with monarchs usurping property.) Though the Temple can use the precious vessels, they are a luxury. One might compare them to a private jet or a well-appointed executive suite.

What is even more intriguing is the last line. “No detailed accounting was made…because they dealt honorably.” Honorably: באמנות. This can also mean in good faith. The dealings between the priests and the king and the workers are done in a trustworthy manner and model what corporations could and should be doing.

We often see corporations, most recently banks, taking the money of their investors and not treating their workers fairly or taking unnecessary risks all for the sake of a potentially bigger profit. Do we really need to go back to the prophets to understand why profit is not the most important aspect of running a company? No one would want all companies to become 501(c)3 organizations. The free market is a good thing. However, recent events show us what happens when profit is the only consideration. The wage gap in this nation is growing. Poverty is on the rise. One wonders what might happen today’s corporations placed more emphasis on the security of their institutions and their labor force, rather than on the finery around them.

Perhaps corporations don’t need religion, but they could look to how the Temple in Jerusalem was run according to this narrative in order to balance their books and their responsibilities.

[1] Revised Plaut p. 1451

Rabbis Rock, Sassanians are Jerks (Bava Batra 173b)

On today's Daf we learn a little bit about the world from which the Rabbis come.

Our Mishnah explains that if one lends money to another person on the basis of a guarantor (someone who will pay my loan if I default), the lender can't reclaim the money from the guarantor.

The Rabbis question this ruling; what is the role of a guarantor for if not to pay a creditor? Rabbah and Rav Yosef explain that the phrase means that as the guarantor is there to pay if the borrower skips town. As long as the borrower is around we must approach him to get the money.

Rav Nachman objects to their point and says "This is the law of the Persians" (the Rabbis were living in Babylonia at the time and the Sassanian Persians were the ruling power).

The Gemora objects to Nachman's statement "on the contrary, the Persians go after the guarantor first even if the borrower has the property to pay (then it's up to the guarantor to wrestle the money that he paid from the borrower)." Nachman clarifies and expands his statement. The ruling of Rabbah and Rav Yosef wasn't the "laws of the Persians" (it was actually the opposite) rather it retained their methodology. Both the Persians and these Rabbis gave rulings that go against logic (the guarantor's role isn't to make sure the debtor is present when the lender wants to collect but that the debt [read: MONEY] is there for him. The Persians went against logic because thedy penalize the guarantor before the borrower). And in both cases, these "illogical" rulings were not explained.

Rav Nachman then goes on to give his "logical" explanation and supports it with proof from the tradition.

The reason this section of Talmud is so powerful is that it explains two central ideas of Jewish law. First, we should try to be rational and logical. Second, no matter what, we should give rationals and support for our reasonings.  This second lesson is crucial. Like the Rabbis we should never answer any question with "because I said so" or "just do it!" Rather we should be thinkers. We should consider our actions and have the patience to convey our reasoning to others.

McDolands and Lawsuits: When enough is enough (Bava Batra 171b)

A number of years ago a women sued McDonalds because she spilled coffee on herself.  It's become quite the urban legend. Today, the case stands as an example of bogus lawsuits and the need for tort reforms. As it turns out there was truth to her claim and she deserved retribution.  The coffee was too hot and the lid was difficult to remove (it was while trying to add cream and sugar that she spilled the beverage on herself).

The point of this story is that McDonald's corrected it's mistake. It made sure that the coffee temperature would drop from 180-190 degrees Fahrenheit to 158 degrees. Furthermore, it began putting warnings on the coffee that it might cause burns.

So how does this have to do with today's Daf?

Today we find a discussion about postdated documents. The Rabbis have a huge problem with this type of document. Let's say that Reuben loans Levi $200 in September but the document says the loan will happen in March. If Levi gets the money to pay him back in October but doesn't receive the document back from Reuben as proof of repayment (let's say Reuben claims to have lost it), Reuben can turn around and use the document in March to force Levi to pay him back a second time.

For this reason, the Rabbi's created a number of safeguards to keep guys like Reuven from cheating the Levis in the world. In one case R. Abba invented a special clause to go into documents to let people know that it is a postdated document. Rav Safra added his own solution. He explained that Levi should receive a receipt that has the date of the original loan and the exact amount that he paid.

At the end of the discussion Ravina jumped in and said that he doesn't do any of these things.  They aren't part of his custom. The Gemora answers that these safeguards are available and if he chooses not to do them, then it is his own fault if he gets duped.

The message here is that we should do what we can to protect people, but ultimately they need to protect themselves.  We can invent the solution, but if they don't use it, it is not our fault. If Ravina doesn't use the safeguards it is his loss when a business partner chooses to cheat him. As a corollary, if someone were to ignore the warning on the McDonald's coffee or remove the lid and begin to drive, they are doing so at their own peril. McDonalds has now done enough to ensure the safety of its patrons.

We learn from our Daf today that it is our obligation to protect the interests of others, but if they won't meet us halfway, maybe the onus is on them.

Haftarah Yitro - Seeing God

Haftarah Yitro – Better Late than Never

Sorry for the delay this week. I would love to say that I was so taken by the imagery of this passage from Isaiah (6:1-7:6; 9:5-6) that I simply couldn’t write anything, but that is not the case.

This week we witnessed the awe that is Sinai. The earth rolled, the horns blew, the lightning struck. Isaiah’s image in this haftarah is a complete inversion of this. Instead of God on Earth, Isaiah becomes man in heaven. Man who enters God’s chamber and witnesses the angels shouting.

“Holy! Holy! Holy! Is the God of Heaven’s Hosts, who presence fills all the earth!” (6:3)

There is a paradox in this statement that was not clear to me until just now. The God of Heaven fills all the Earth. God is everywhere. Isaiah, apparently, didn’t need to go to Heaven to see God. (But then, we don’t need to go to France to eat a croissant, but it does seem to taste better there, non?) Isaiah goes to God’s house to see God and learn the message to relay to the people. It is this message that I want to focus on.

“Go and tell this to the people:
Hear again and again – but without understanding.
Look again and again – but without perceiving.
Dull this people’s mind,
Stop its ears and cloud its eyes!
Lest seeing with its eyes,
And hearing with its ears
It understand with its mind and repent and save itself.” (6:8-10)

Is God really telling Isaiah to make it so that the people can’t return to God? Is Isaiah supposed to deliver an undecipherable message? Maybe the message is meant to be difficult, but really, is it supposed to be purposely hard to gain God’s good graces?

Fishbane, citing a slew of commentators, uses the verb forms in the Hebrew to show that it is not God who causes this to happen, rather it is the people who have closed their ears to God and clouded their eyes to the divine that will not be open to redemption.

How often have we closed ourselves to the divine that is around us? How certain are we that there is no God present in the things that we see daily? Does God have to cause the ground to shake to wake us up? Do we need to hear a ram’s horn blow or witness lightning without cloud and thunder without rain in order to say to ourselves: yep, that was God?

Perhaps, in these lines, God, through Isaiah, is trying to remind us that there are small elements of God visible all around us every day, if only we open our eyes and stop to listen for a moment.

Torture: Do we do that? (Bava Batra 167a)

Oddly, one of the things that I love about the Jewish tradition is when there is a contradiction within our textual tradition. We are told to "love our neighbor as ourselves" (Lev. 19) but then we have countless examples of Rabbis who don't do this. We are told to be environmental stewards but also are told to "fill the earth and subdue it" (Gen. 1:28). 

I've always been taught (and strongly believe) that we Jews shouldn't condone torture, and that our sources are unapologetic about this. Groups like the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism and the Shalom Center are very vocal about Guantanamo Bay and prisoner treatment.

Oddly our Aggadic texts don't always conform to the statements of these groups. In today's Daf we read about Abaye torturing of a suspected criminal. Here is the case:


There was a certain man who was owed money by two brothers (for simplicity sake, let's call him Jerry). As proof of this the brothers gave him a document on which it was written "the portion of land of Reuven and Shimon, brothers, is sold to you." In Aramaic the word "brothers" is Achei. Now it happens that Reuven and Shimon had a brother who was (sadly) named Achei.  Knowing that if he inserted the word "and" into the document he could get 1.5 times the money from the family Jerry jumped at the opportunity. He added the word and changed the document to "the portion of land of Reuven and Shimon and Achei is sold to you."

When he came to collect from the (now) three brothers Abaye noticed how squished the word "and" appeared. Abaye bound him up to a post and essentially tortured him until he confessed (this is the reading of Artscroll, informed by hundreds of years of tradition). In the end, Abaye is the hero. Torture worked and justice was fulfilled.

The reason I love this story is because it goes against everything that I was taught. The thing I love about being a liberal Jew is that very often, its hard to find an objectively right answer in our texts. At times like these, we are reminded of Rabbi Ben Bag Bag who implored us to keep turning the Torah because "all is in it." And it is precisely this act of wrestling with our textual traditions that make study so powerful.

I encourage everyone to continue wrestling by visiting the Religious Action Center, Rabbis for Human Rights, or by reading the Reform Movement's official position on Torture. We don't have to read our text the same way as they do we you can NEVER stop turning them!

The Medium is the Message (Bava Batra 164)

I've always loved Marshall McLuhan and I especially love his book Understanding Media. In it he famously writes that "the medium is the message." In other words, the way we get out information actually determines what the message will be. We can think of it this way: watching a movie on TV (without DVR) forces one to watch it closely and in its entirety. But with DVR or the computer we have a different experience. We can relax more because we know that we can always rewind any part that we miss. We might be watching the same movie, but because we encounter it with different media, the message we gain is different.

I thought it was interesting that the Rabbis play on this idea. They explain that there are two types of documents. A Pashut document is a simple document that reads from top to bottom (like a regular piece of paper today). A Mikushar document is much different. Here the important pieces (name, date etc.) are written at the top. The document is then folded as an accordian and sewed shut until only the essential information and the signatures of the witnesses are visible. To read any other information one must break the strings that bind it.

The Rabbis explain that these documents have two different systems of dating. Both measure years by the rein of kings, however a Pashut document counts the years by how long the king has reined. A Mikushar document adds a year to the king's rein (out of respect and to make him seem more of a veteran). This was the practice of the surrounding non-Jewish nations at the time (or so Rashbam says) and we adopted it. So, if it says a king reined for 2 years, it really means he reined for one.

Therefore, knowing if a document is Pashut or M'kushar is very important. It is the difference between knowing the year of a document or not. This effects leases, leins, and other important property law. In this case, the medium truely determines the message.

To read an interesting article by Ohr Somayach about McLuhan and Torah click here.