A Message about Who Belongs – Haftarah Emor

Ezekiel 44:15-31

Speaking of the priests, Ezekiel prophesies in verse 23:
They shall declare to My people what is sacred and what is profane, and inform them what is clean and what is unclean.

What does it mean to separate and make classifications?
Should we continue to make separation and classification?
What is clean and what is unclean?
What is good and what is bad?
Who is in and who is out?
Who belongs and who does not?
Who gets to decide?

We live in a time where ritual purity and impurity are no longer concerns. Though we may continue to use the mikvah, we find ourselves emerging spiritually purified, not ritually so. We can never really achieve a state of ritual purity these days anyway, since the Temple is not around, for anyone really concerned about it.

Yet we come to these words about who is pure and who is impure. Who belongs and can stay and who does not and cannot. The priests in their time had a series of inquiries to make in order to determine purity and impurity and would check back at regular intervals to determine who was pure and who was not. Who had blemish and who did not. It was up to them to decide, in a mandate from God and Moses, who belonged in the community and who did not. Today, in this country, there is a discussion of who belongs and who does not. More importantly, however, is the discussion of how we determine who belongs and who does not.

I am an immigrant. Though you might not know it to look at me, I was not born in this country, and I went through the process of naturalization – an angering and frustrating process – to gain my right to vote. As a non-citizen, permanent resident (greencard holder) the only thing I could not do was vote in an election. I went to public school, paid taxes and lived an American life, all the while being from another country. My story is not unique; nor is it unique or rare that America is still considered and seen by many as the place to go to find work and a better life. The American dream lasts and has endured even the current onset of economic crisis and the lessening of American influence around the world.

The passage this past week of SB 1070 in Arizona angers me, as it does many people, immigrant or not. Though there cannot be open borders to allow everyone to come in as they wish, America does allow people to come and make their way legally toward the American life they desire. People like America because of the freedoms that it gives. America was the first nation with a real constitution that guaranteed rights to its citizens. It is not a perfect nation, and often the government needs some time to work out the kinks, but ultimately freedom and liberty are at the heart of what this nation stands for.

This law allows the police and law enforcement to determine who is clean and who is unclean, who belongs and who does not based on appearance. The issue is not with the notion that illegal immigrants are here illegally. The issue is with the reasonable suspicion clause in this law, which broadly defined, gives police and law enforcement the authority to question and detain whoever they deem suspicious. I watch enough Law and Order to know that reasonable suspicion and probable cause are often tenuous and then challenged in the second act, often resulting in evidence being thrown out and the ADA mad at the detectives.

Though the proponents of SB1070 say that there are safeguards in the language that prevents that, it is not a stretch to imagine that anyone who looks Hispanic in Arizona will be at least questioned and at most detained until their status is determined if they are not carrying documents. As a former greencard holder, I know how hard that thing is to replace. Carrying it with you increases the chance that it become lost, stolen or damaged. I never carried mine, nor did any of my family. But this also assumes that every Hispanic person is an immigrant. We know this not to be the case, yet as a group, all Hispanics are now seen as suspect. They are judged prior to trial, evidence, or witnesses all because of appearance.

As a Jew, this troubles me because of the memories it conjures of needing to look a certain way to belong to society. I don’t think it is as drastic as requiring people to wear a badge to inform police who they are, but, I can see it as the first domino. As an American, this troubles me because it seems to be only a small step removed from the dangerous rhetoric of “real America” and “real American values” that is code for a specific brand of white Christianity.

As a nation, we did not allow for profiling in airports for terrorist searches after 9/11, though many demanded it. As a nation, are we now going to allow for this? As a nation of immigrants (a reality many seem to forget conveniently), perhaps we should get serious about immigration reform.

Hopefully this bill will lead to some real changes in how we think about and treat the immigrants that come to this country.

An Answer Already (San 73)

Yesterday I asked a question about the meaning of a Rodef (pursuer). I knew that a rodef (someone pursuing someone else in order to kill them) could be killed by someone else to save the victim's life. However I wasn't sure if it applied to rape or assault. Last night's daf gave me my answer.

If someone is pursuing his fellow to kill him, or a male (to rape him) or a betrothed women (to rape her) or a women for him relations are punishable with a court-ordered execution (ex. one's sister), in all these cases, we save the intended victim from attack at the cost of their pursuer's life. 

Although this answers my question, I'm not sure what impact it has on my previous post. Does expanding the definition of a rodef make it easier to include mental illness or self worth in this? Or perhaps by narrowly defining it we actually inch out the idea of mental illness because it doesn't conform perfectly with the above categories? I guess it's up to how one reads the rationale for this rule.

I wish I had more time (San 72b)

I've always been told that Judaism has been relatively liberal when it comes to a women's right to choose. The Religious Action Center is clear in it's pro-choice position. Therefore I was very excited to encounter the discussion of this issue in yesterday's daf.

The Talmud quotes Mishnah Oholot 7:6:

If a women is in hard labor, they chop up the child in her womb and they remove it limb by limb because her life takes precedence over his life. Once a baby's head has left the mother's body we may not touch it (i.e kill it) to save the mother's life, for we do not push aside one person's life on account of another person's life.  

The RAC explains that his text is the precedent for their position:

Mishnah Ohaloth 7:6, for example, forbids a woman from sacrificing her own life for that of the fetus, and if her life is threatened, the text permits her no other option but abortion. In addition, if the mental health, sanity, or self-esteem of the woman (i.e. in the case of rape or incest) is at risk due to the pregnancy itself, Mishnah permits the woman to terminate the pregnancy. It is due to the fundamental Jewish belief in the sanctity of life that abortion is viewed as both a moral and correct decision under some circumstances.

I respect the RAC's position. In fact, I agree with it. However, I'm not sure where the jump in logic comes from. How does endangering life also mean endangering one's mental health, especially as it pertains to the argument in yesterday's daf. The reason one may sacrifice the fetus is because it is a rodef (a legal category that means pursuer who may be killed if he is in the process of pursuing someone in order to kill them). I'm not sure if rape or assault is considered worthy of protecting someone from a rodef and would be interested to know this. Nevertheless, I wouldn't put a rodef in the same category as one who would cause low self esteem (although I would be pleased to be proven wrong).

Nevertheless, I wonder if there are more nuanced ways than the RAC's to deal with the issue of women's choice while still staying true to the text and the notion of a rodef. Again, my politics are liberal and I would welcome this. Maybe a good summer project is to really follow the reasoning of the CCAR Responsa in depth. Or perhaps to read what the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards came up with. Or else maybe just Wikipedia.

Regardless, I wish I had more time.

Seasons of Change – Haftarah Acharei Mot-Kedoshim

Amos 9:7-15

The time is coming, says the Eternal,
When the one who plows the field
will overtake the one who reaps it;
and the treader of grapes [will overtake] the one who sows seeds,
when the mountains shall drip sweet wine,
and all the hills shall overflow. (9:13)

The imagery in this passage from the prophet Amos is imagery of abundance. There will be so much produce to harvest, it will take until the next plowing season. There will be so many grapes to tread that the sowing of seeds will overlap with it.

It is also an image of overlapping seasons: the planting season overlapping the harvest season, the wine-making season overlapping the sowing season. Two things usually reserved as separate coming together in ways not anticipated.

As I sit here, in the midst of spring in New Jersey, I get the overlapping-of-seasons concept. It makes sense to me. This week alone, I have had to wear three different jackets, depending on the weather. But it makes sense for more reasons than that. We are approximately one-half way through the Omer right now. This Shabbat will represent the 25th day of the 49 day march from redemption to revelation. The walk through the wilderness and the waiting for word from God after having been saved by a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. We are smack-dab in the middle of the season of our growth from slaves to a free, covenanted people.

We are not fully free, fully redeemed. Nor are we fully slaves, fully bound. We are in between. Since Amos’ vision of these overlapping seasons is an image of abundance, we should perhaps see this in between stage as a season of abundance. The ability to be in two places, two times, two seasons at once is the ability to have some sense of vision. It is the ability to have perhaps the fullest sense of what came before and what comes after.

Shabbat is, like this period of the Omer, and like the waiting in the wilderness, a time in between. We are in between creation and creation. We are in between human and divine. We are in between time and space.

In between redemption and revelation, in between planting and harvesting: that is where we stand. Ready to plow a field that is not fully harvested yet. Ready to sow seeds when the grapes have yet to be crushed. The overlap forces us to wait, to stop, to see what is in front of us.

The beauty of Shabbat, the Omer, and the seasons is the fact that they keep coming back to us, giving us that time to be in between. They allow us to experience life on both sides and then pause and reflect on what has come before and project to what will come next.

Shabbat Shalom

A Raw Moment (San 68a)

On today's Daf we get a glimpse of a really raw moment in the life of Rabbi Akiba. After Rabbi Eliezer dies, Akiba is so distraught over the death of his friend that he "struck his flesh until his blood flowed to the ground." Reading this, I was touched by Akiba's human pain. 

Oddly, many later commentators ignore the emotion of this text and view it through a legal lens. Tosafot point out that it is explicitly forbidden in Leviticus 19:28 (this week's Torah portion) to "make a cut in your flesh for the dead." In essence the Torah forbids "cutting" as a means to cope with one's pain. While I'm sure there were other reasons to this prohibition, one can read the text as a call for those who are hurting to seek the comfort and help of others and avoid self-mutilation. However, faced with this contradiction Tosafot point to the end of the phrase "for the dead" to prove that one is not allowed to cut one's flesh over the loss of a loved one, but in Akiba's case he was permitted to cut himself because he was mourning not the loss of Eliezer but rather the loss of Eliezer's Torah knowledge. 

Clearly, Tosafot were trying to come up with a creative way to allow Akiba to be correct and for the Leviticus text to be valid. Like usual their answer was smart, but I wonder if it might be more helpful to see Akiba as violating this commandment. 

Few Rabbis are as heralded for their piety and knowledge of the law as Akiba. However, we see from this text that even he is capable of being swept away by pain and sadness and might forget the law and societal norms. Here we see Akiba not as the person who has the presence of mind to say the Shema as he is dying, but as the man who loses control. I am not endorsing what Akiba did. We should look out for signs of people who might be susceptible to cutting and self mutilation. However, I wonder if sometimes we don't give people the space to have really raw moments after a tragedy. Perhaps, Akiba has shown us it's ok to cry, scream, vent, and yell when something bad happens. It's our human urge. It's our human right.

Dugout Sorcery (San 65)

I just learned a new baseball superstition this weekend. If a pitcher is in the midst of pitching a no hitter, it is a bad omen for anyone in the dugout to mention it is happening until the game is over!

Yesterday's daf talks all about sorcery, bad omens and superstitions. Obviously one should avoid participation in sorcery, so the rabbis ask an obvious questions: What constitutes action when it comes to sorcery?

There are three answers to this question and many different opinions and examples concerning each answer.

1. Physical action: ex. bending one's body (bowing) before an idol (65a3)
2. The act of speaking: ex. Muzzling an animal with one's voice alone (one can muzzle an animal by shouting at it). R Yochanan considers this "action" and therefore considers a person who does this liable to bring an offering and Reish Lakish does not. (65b)
3. Ill thoughts/intentions: ex. According to Rava, Zomemin witnesses (witnesses who are proven false by other witnesses) are compared to a blasphemer because, like a blasphemer, their sin is not primarily in their voice, but rather their heart. (65b1 footnote 4 - Rashi)

Confusing stuff. Anyway, it is clear that speaking can be considered action when it comes to participating in sorcery. At the end of page 65 and beginning of 66 we learn some new examples of sorcery that one should avoid, including one who says:

• Today is Felicitous for departure
• The eve of the seventh year usually produces superior wheat
• One's bread fell from his mouth
• His son calls him from behind
• A deer crossed his path
• A snake approached him on his right or a fox approached him on his left
• Ulbaldo Jimenez has a nice no hitter going on here

okay, I added that last one.

I wonder what the sages would say about this superstition. On the one hand, you'd think they would have approved of it because mentioning the no hitter would be a form of sorcery by calculating time and hours (this is the actual prohibition 65b4). On the other hand, the players are still calculating time and hours; they are just making a conscious point of not saying anything about it. Still sorcery, right? Can we liken this to a blasphemer who has evil thoughts about God but doesn't say them out loud??

The Need for Lust (San 64a)

There's a facinating story that appears in today's talmud page (daf). Although it appears here, its parrellel in tractate Yoma is a fuller account. What follows is the Soncino traslation of the story. My notes will be in italics.

They (the Rabbis) ordered a fast of three days and three nights (in order to catch the "evil impulse" because he had led the people to sin and was the reason for the destruction of the first Temple), whereupon he (the evil impulse) was surrendered to them. He came forth from the Holy of Holies like a young fiery lion. Thereupon the Prophet (who was with them) said to Israel: This is the evil desire of idolatry...As they took hold of him a hair of his beard fell out, he raised his voice and it went [was audible] four hundred parasangs. Thereupon they said: How shall we act? Perhaps, God forbid, they might have mercy upon him from heaven! — The prophet said unto them: Cast him into a leaden pot, closing its opening with lead. Because lead absorbs the voice...And he cast her down into the midst of the measure, and he cast the weight of lead upon the mouth thereof. They said: Since this is a time of Grace, let us pray for mercy for the Tempter to evil. They prayed for mercy, and he was handed over to them. He (the Prophet) said to them: Realize that if you kill him, the world goes down. They imprisoned him for three days, then looked in the whole land of Israel for a fresh egg and could not find it (nothing was procreating without the evil impuse). Thereupon they said: What shall we do now? Shall we kill him? The world would then go down. Shall we beg for half-mercy? They do not grant ‘halves’ in heaven.They put out his eyes and let him go. It helped inasmuch as he no more entices men to commit incest.

While I find this story troubling for one simple reason, it implies that procreation even between married couples is a sinful thing, I like this story for it's theological implications. The Bible teaches us that God created the whole world.  In addition it teaches that God governs that world. Thus to have forces outside of God's control would be akin to Gnostism. Isaiah said it best in his attack of Gnostic belief "I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace, and create evil." (Is. 45:7).

What is facinating about this story is that the Rabbis give a reason for the presense of evil. Evil served a purpose. It created lust and lust led to procreation. Without this evil impulse the world would cease to be. We would cease to be. Whether one agrees with the rabbinic take on sex one can't help but appreciate that the Rabbis struggled with questions of evil and ultimately decided that even evil has a place in our world.

"I am God who makes peaces and creates evil." And you need them both!

Dane Cook and My Favorite Foreign God (San 60a)

This post deals with an issue from a few days ago. It's been on mind my and I wanted to write about it. Numbers 25 relates the following story:

While Israel was staying in Shittim, the men began to indulge in sexual immorality with Moabite women, who invited them to the sacrifices to their gods. The people ate and bowed down before these gods. So Israel joined in worshiping the Baal of Peor. And the LORD's anger burned against them. The LORD said to Moses, "Take all the leaders of these people, kill them and expose them in broad daylight before the LORD, so that the LORD's fierce anger may turn away from Israel."So Moses said to Israel's judges, "Each of you must put to death those of your men who have joined in worshiping the Baal of Peor."

According to Rabbinic tradition (Sifrei as explained by also by Rashi) the way that the Israelites and the Moabite women worshiped this God was that they defecated in front of his idol. The hebrew the word pa'ar means gap or gaping hole. Using this as their inspiration, the Rabbi's developed a mythology that said that the Moabite's diety (Baal Peor) was named such because the Israelites used would open up (פוערין לפניו פי הטבעת) their anus and defecate before him.

At first glance it look like the Rabbis were simply trying to paint the Moabite women in a very disgusting light by describing this ritual. However, I wonder if there is something more to this.

I've always been stuck by Dane Cook's sketch called "Someone Shit on the Coats." The plot of this sketch is simple. Cook advises his audience that the next time they go to a party, they should walk into the room with all the coats and defecate on the coats. Then later, when some comes out and exclaims "Someone shit on the coats" you'll sit back and laugh to yourself.

As I explain it now, I can see how disgusting, immature, and borderline insane this sketch is. Nevertheless, listen to the audience. People LOVE it. It's one of Cook's most popular sketches (check out the number of hits this one video got, and it's not the only artistic representation of the sketch on You Tube). For this reason, I would argue that there must be something more to the Rabbi's description of Baal Peor worship.

There is nothing more id than thinking that you might be the one to defecate on the coats, just as there is nothing more id than thinking that you have the freedom to worship a God by defecating in front of his idol. I wonder if in the end, the Rabbis chose this act of worship to explain why so many of the Israelites might have been led to apostasy by the Moabite women. When faced with the choice between a God who has rules (like Shabbat and Kashrut) and a God who allows such freedom that one's wildest depravity is their means of worship, it is easy to see why one would choose the later God. Perhaps, the Rabbis chose the most extreme id-influenced behavior, defecation, to remind their readers that freedom and debauchery, while sexy, are not the be all and end all of living.

More to come on Baal Peor (we revisit him on 64a).

Peer pressure (San 61b)

A sneak preview of my article for the May Newsletter at my pulpit:

Page 61b in Tractate Sanhedrin of the Babylonian Talmud discusses the different punishments for engaging in idol worship and for causing others to subvert to idol worship. There is a lengthy discussion devoted to how and why an individual or a community may be subverted into idol worship. We learn that there is a difference between an individual who has subverted to idol worship and a community who has subverted to idol worship. The individual is sentenced to a more severe death than a community because it is assumed that the individual made a conscious decision, whereas the same thing cannot be said of an entire community. The Gemara then challenges this assumption and asks the question: Is the individual still guilty if he subverted to idolatry out of love or fear of the person who tried to convince him? Different rabbis hold different opinions on this issue. Some believe he is still liable because he is still physically engaging in the act of idolatry. Others say he is not liable because he has no intention of actually serving the idol, but instead made a decision based on maintaining relationships and peace in his community.

At first it may seem like all of this is irrelevant to our lives as modern Jews. We don’t subscribe to the judiciary practices laid out by the rabbis of the Talmud and we certainly don’t define idolatry as a crime that should be punishable by death. A deeper look, however, uncovers an important lesson about how peer pressure affects our lives as individuals and community members. Usually, when I hear the phrase “peer pressure,” I think about teenagers and drugs or alcohol. I think this is because I am unwilling or embarrassed to admit that many times I give in to peer pressure as an adult. As adults, we consistently sit in on meetings where we don’t agree with what is being said, but we don’t say anything for a million reasons. So many of the activities we participate in, we find boring or even disturbing, but we do them anyway, so that we can spend time with family and friends. We do these things for the sake of shalom bayit, for peace in the home, in the community, and in the greater world. By not punishing an individual who engages in idol worship because of peer pressure, the Gemara acknowledges that upholding one’s ideals sometimes comes into conflict with maintaining peace in the world. It allows for the possibility that maintaining peace is more important even than breaking the first and second commandment. As we contemplate where we fall on the spectrum of maintaining our ideals verses maintaining peace, I encourage you to think about your own ideals. What are you willing or not willing to do for the sake of shalom, for the sake of peace?

Meat From Heaven (San 59)

This post is Julia Rubin-Cadrain's idea:

In today's Daf we encounter a debate about whether Adam was a vegetarian. The crux of the argument is this: while we read explicitly in Genesis 1:29-30 that Adam was given every seed bearing plant to eat but was told to avoid animals for food (we would only be permitted to eat animals after the flood) we have a Baraita (an oral text outside of the Mishnah) that would seem to suggest otherwise. It reads:

R. Yehudah Ben Teima used to say: "Adam, the first man, would recline in the garden of Eden and the ministering angels would roast meat for him and strain wine for him."

So how do we reconcile these texts? The Rabbis come up with an interesting answer. They explain that the prohibition against eating animals was just that, a prohibition against eating animals. However, meat from heaven, given by the ministering angels was fine.

For us moderns, this text is a funny text. Meat is meat. We don't read that the angels roasted tofurky for Adam. And to assume that their meat could come from anywhere but a living creature is an act of faith (and the suspension of disbelief) that many of us are not ready for.

Nevertheless, we can look at this text as indicative of what actually happens in our day and age.  For God to order Adam to avoid meat when he would encounter it's source, the animals in Eden, is not hard to understand. Personally, I would have a hard time killing an animal myself and I know that I could not have ignored my fondness for it that may have sprouted while the animal was still alive. However, I don't encounter animals in my day to day life and because of this, I am fine eating meat from the store. For me, this is "meat from heaven." In my mind, I often forget that it comes from an animal; instead, it comes from the co-op or Whole Foods. And it doesn't help that the meat comes packaged in a way that removes any inclination of the source. Chicken comes in cubes, steak in strips, and fish in sticks.

Maybe then, this Talmudic discussion can act as a reminder to all of us to think about the source of our food. In this day and age, can we really count on the Angels to give us "meat from heaven?" If not, what is our relationship to the meat that we do eat? Whether we are vegans or frequent McDonalds, knowing where our food comes from will make us better consumers and more responsible eaters.

Rich Rabbi, Poor Rabbi (San 58b)

Living in New York I know what's it like to be house poor.  All too often I hear my friends say "I wish I could go out but rent is coming up." I too am no stranger to this sentiment.

In today's Daf we find a statement by R. Elazar cautioning us against overcommitting ourselves to our property. He writes that "land ownership was given only to the mighty people." He proves this by using a proof text from Job 22:5, "To the mighty man is the earth." Rashi explains that this text means that one who owns a field must put a lot of work into maintaining it. He must plow, water, weed, and guard the field. Therefore, knowing how much work it is to be a farmer, one should not go into land ownership lightly.

While R. Elazar's statement can be read as a warning not to pursue land ownership without a God given deed to the land (who else makes us mighty?), I think we can expand this notion. Perhaps the statement is advising us to be cautious when buying land (or renting apartments). All too often, a purchase can look like a good idea until we are in it, then looking at our diminishing bank accounts or exhausting schedule we realize that we would have been much happier if we hadn't taken on so much.

A few years ago I read a great book called Rich Dad, Poor Dad which taught that what separates the rich from the middle class (or poor) is that rich parents teach their children to keep assets and avoid liabilities. More than anything, Rich parents understand that with property taxes and upkeep, houses and property are not assets but function somewhat like liabilities. Therefore, buying a $800,000 house that is perfectly in your means may quickly become above your means when you factor in payments to the government and the extra cost of cleaning and upkeep. Buying property is not the same as putting money in a stable mutual fund. "Poor" dad's don't understand this and advise their children to put their money into property acquisition.

R. Elazar was thousands of years before Rich Dad, Poor Dad but one can't help to think that maybe they were thinking along the same lines. What does Elazar mean by mighty? Perhaps he means those who have other assets beside property and have the time, energy, and disposable income to deal with whatever challenges owning this property might bring.

Which God am I getting? - Haftarah Shemini

II Samuel 6:1-7:17

This week’s Haftarah begins with David contemplating whether or not to bring the Ark of the Covenant into his city. He has to make this decision because of two very interesting events.

First, Uzziah, in trying to save the Ark from falling, grabs hold of the Ark, a big no-no. God gets angry and strikes him down on the spot because of his disrespect.

This leads David to think that the Ark of God is dangerous and only brings calamity. Would you bring that into your house?

Next, David sends the Ark to Obed-Edom’s place. There, God blesses Obed-Edom for taking care of the Ark.

This leads David to want to bring the Ark into his city, since God causes blessing.

Which God is David going to get?

Do we get to pick and choose the God that we want? Can we accept the God of blessing and eschew the God of curses?

David ultimately brings the Ark into his city, in fits of dancing and joy. His wife is none too happy about his display.

At the end of the Haftarah, God’s multi-faceted nature is again on display. God grants David a kingship that will last for all time, but does not allow him to build the Temple for God.

Which God did David get?

As we continue through this period of the Omer, waiting patiently for God’s revelation, we should consider what it is we expect from God and whether or not we should expect anything in particular in the first place.

Shabbat Shalom

What's a good death? (San 52)

In pastoral training this past summer (and in our coursework this year) we spoke a lot about the idea of a "good death." We wondered if a good death meant that one passed away with all their business in order. Maybe it meant that their family was around them. Perhaps they felt that their life had achieved some higher purpose. We never settled the questions but like any good conundrum it raised many important issues for us as future leaders and made us think.

Today's Daf also speaks about the idea of a "good death." Using one of the most famous texts in the Torah, Love your neighbor as yourself (Lev. 19:18)--Rabbi Akiba called this text the highest principle (klal gadol) in the Torah--the Talmud explains that one should choose for a criminal the most "favorable" method of execution during capital punishment. The text reads:

ברור לו מיתה יפה
Choose for him a favorable death (lit. a beautiful death)

 Here are two examples of how this principle works:

1. When one is to be beheaded, one should choose to take a sword to the front of the neck, rather than an ax to the back of the neck because it is a much faster and painless way to die. According to Yad Ramah, this is because the blade of an ax is not as sharp as that of a sword and it encounters bone first rather than the windpipe subsequently smashing part of the neck rather than cutting it cleanly.
2. Burning is performed by pouring heated lead down a criminal's throat causing internal burns and death. However, the Talmud explains that this death is less agonizing  and disfiguring than burning the whole body from the outside.

It's not clear exactly what the Rabbis mean by their statement  Choose for him a favorable death. The two examples point to a number of possibilities. Perhaps it means one should look for a death that causes the least amount of pain. Perhaps it advocates for one that is faster (even if it hurts more). Perhaps it means that one should leave the victim with little external signs of disfigurement (like in the case of burning). Regardless of the exact meaning, we can learn a number of  very important lessons from these texts.

These texts can teach us a lot about how we should approach people at the time of their deaths. A "good death" is one where we minimize pain (we can work with hospice to help make this happen). It is also one where we help a patient avoid suffering during their final moments by helping them settle their affairs. It's also helping them feel like a human as they pass on. As odd as it seems, we learn from this text that if our grandmother wants us to put makeup on her in her deathbed, we should listen.

Of course there is always the question of how much we should encourage our loved ones to fight an illness and how much we should work to make their death comfortable (often these are at odds). Here's is a recent article in the New York Times that struggles with this question when it comes to pain.

What is it good for? – Haftarah 7th day of Pesach

2 Samuel 22:1-51

[I know…I know… I “missed” the Haftarah for the intermediate Shabbat of Passover. Basically, it’s Ezekiel 37 the dry bones. There is a lot there, but in essence, the bones are resurrected and brought back to life, as the Israelites are redeemed and brought back to Israel.]

This Haftarah from Samuel is great because it is in essence a psalm. It is a hymn of praise to God by David for deliverance from his foes. Psalm 18 appears to be a reworking of this song of praise.

Let’s break it down:

It can be divided into four parts after the prologue verse 1-2a:
1) Verses 2b-7: the negative situation out of which David is saved;
2) Verses 8-16a: God’s actions in the natural world;
3) Verses 16b-46: God helps David;
4) Verses 47-51: Verses of Praise to God.

One element that is important to focus on is the progression here. In a classically psalm-esque style, David moves from a negative situation, to witnessing God’s salvation to verses of praise in song. This mimics perfectly the exodus of the Israelites, who were enslaved, witnessed God’s miracles and then sang at the shores of the sea.

One piece that I was troubled by, however, is the element that comes in part 4.

Starting in verse 47:
God is exalted, the rock of my salvation, (48) the God who gives me revenge, who makes people subject to me, (49) who frees me from my foes…

I am taken aback by verse 48’s use of the word revenge. And it makes me think about a colleague who has considered excising the troublesome line: “Pour out your wrath upon the nations” from the Hagaddah text.

Today, we don’t like to think about God as wrathful and vengeful and promoting vengeance. The popular midrash of the Passover season tells us that while the people rejoiced at the drowning of the Egyptians, God rebukes them, having had no choice but to destroy creation to allow the people to live. God doesn’t like destroying God’s creations if God can help it. Yet we have this line here about David’s revenge (Not to mention verse 43 where David praises God for allowing him to pound, trample and pulverize his enemy, even after their pleas to God) and the line about God’s wrath. What are we to do?

Is it enough to say that the God of back then is different? Is it enough to say that the people of back then are different? I agree with the second statement more than the first, but prefer not to rely on it. What do we do with troubling text? And, is this text more troubling because God provides for a victory in battle? Is a war on God’s behalf allowed if we’re on the ‘winning’ side?

I don’t like war, but I am not a pacifist. I think this is how God works, too. God doesn’t like war, but God is not a pacifist. David was, among other things, a warrior king. He had many victories to thank God for. I have no doubt that many of the battles were of the total war variety, wherein the enemies were completely annihilated. His song of praise, though gruesome, reminds us of the power David saw in God. It was only because of God that he was able to win those battles. It was only thanks to God that he remained king. We also know, however, that it is because of David’s callous use of war for his own ends that he is punished. God will allow war, but not for every purpose.

So what are we left with? Passover celebrates God’s victory over Egypt. This hymn of praise celebrates God’s victory through David’s army over the enemies of Israel. Can I be ok with one, but not the other?

I see myself as if I have left Egypt, as commanded. Unfortunately, I am no closer to the promised land of answering any of my questions. At least I’m not the one who does not know how to ask.

Chag Sameach

What do you think? (San 50)

Today's Daf speaks about the 4 method's of capital punishment and the predominant crime that leads to them. Here is the majority opinion about the order of severity.

1. Stoning - done to a blasphemer and idol worshiper
2. Burning - done to priest's daughter who commits adultery
3. Beheading - done to members of a town who go to apostasy and idolatry
4. Strangling - done to one who strikes their father or mother

Which do you think is the worst crime?

Cursed be He...Cursed be Me! (San 48b)

Sorry I haven't written in a while. I'm currently at a yoga meditation retreat at Kripalu in the Birkshires. Because I'm in an eastern mindset, I've been looking at the Talmud a bit differently these days. Here's what I saw.

The Talmud records a missing dialogue in the assassination narrative of Yoav (Joab) in 1 Kings 2. I'll give the text in a second by here's a little of the back story. I'll use Artscroll's note because I think it's pretty good. My comments are in brackets.

After King David passed the throne to Solomon, Solomon set out to kill Yoav, the first commander of David's army. The motivation for this was twofold: First, Yoav had years earlier killed two rightous men - Avner ben Ner and Amasa ben Jether - and David had asked Solomon to kill Yoav for this (1 Kings2:5,6).  [In addition David cursed Yoav saying that he was destined to have decendents who would die by the sword]. Secondly, Yoav had supported Adoniyah in his attempt to usurp the throne (ibid 1:7; 2:28) and thus he was deemed a mored b'malchut, a traitor to the crown...When Yoav heard of the plan to kill him, he fled to the Alter of Jersualem and grabbed hold of it's horn [this gives temporary immunity]. There, a messenger of King Solomon by the name of Benayahu approached him and commanded him to leave the Altar. Yoav, however, refused and told the messenger: No, I will die here. (48b3 - note 30)

Here's is the text of the exchange. Notice in bold that there is a lacuna in the text. What was the actually said? 

And the tidings came to Joab; for Joab had turned after Adonijah, though he turned not after Absalom. And Joab fled unto the Tent of the LORD, and caught hold on the horns of the altar. And it was told king Solomon: 'Joab is fled unto the Tent of the LORD, and, behold, he is by the altar.' Then Solomon sent Benaiah the son of Jehoiada, saying: 'Go, fall upon him.' And Benaiah came to the Tent of the LORD, and said unto him: 'Thus saith the king: Come forth.' And he said: 'Nay; but I will die here.' And Benaiah brought back word unto the king, saying: 'Thus said Joab, and thus he answered me.' (1 Kings 2:28-30, JPS)

The Talmud brings the answer. It explains that Yoav said to him "Go tell King Solomon: You cannot do two things at once to me. If you kill me (for causing the deaths of Avner and Amasa) you must accept the curse that your father uttered against me. If you do not want to accept the curse you must leave me alone so that I will remain with the curses your father placed upon me."

As I wrote before, the curse against Yoav was that his decendents would die by the sword. However, if Solomon kills him, Yoav's line will be cut off and he will have no decendents (he was childless at the time). Commenting on this, the Maharal explains that the reason that Solomon was in such a tough situation was that curses are dangerous. If I curse someone and for some reason the curse cannot come true (in this case, Yoav is killed before having children), then I will inherit the curse from him. This is why David's line was so afflicted with disease, death, and poverty throughout the book of Kings.

I imagine the Maharal's comment as akin to Karma. Although it's not a perfect parellel, I see this statement as dealing with balance and unity in the universe. We can think about it this way: when David cursed Yoav a debt was created in the universe. Someone's children had to die. When Yoav was killed, someone had to pay this debt. David's line was the obvious choice. Only through the death and suffering of people like Rehoboam, Uziyahu, and Yoshiahu could this divine debt be paid.

Or if eastern religion doesn't do it for you, there's a great parallel in the movie "Drag me to Hell." For the premise and the link to this post, click here.