We started a new tractate yesterday. At a meeting today, I found out that two HUC students in the class of '12 have been doing Daf Yomi since the end of school. That brings the total up to 4 (with others who have done it on and off for other periods during the past two years). I'm excited about these two student. They are both very smart and I will try to convince them to write for this blog.
I've been thinking a lot about why this Daf Yomi movement has taken off. I think if you play your cards right at school it's possible to take plenty of text classes. However, Daf Yomi is a completely different experience. It's the daily grind of Talmud.
I'm struck by a passage in the Hadran prayer (the prayer one says when one finishes a tractate of Talmud). In it we state that we labor (in study) and receive reward. The word labor (amal) is telling. Daf Yomi and other such fixed regimens of study are hard. There's never enough time in the day. Finding 45 minutes a day for anything is nearly impossible. Why make time for essoteric Jewish study?
However, I think there is a deep need for the regimen. That's why I think we're seeing liberal rabbinic students engaging in Daf Yomi study (and other regimented activities like Daniel's Haftarah study). Studying when we have leisure is nice and it may be religious, but it's not religion. Rather it's a vacation from the secular world. Studying when we don't have time, that's sacrifice. And its in the grind that religion is made.
I would be happy to help anyone find a regimen that works for them. I have found it really rewarding.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Against Paul (Makkot 23b)
There's a statement in yesterday's Daf by a little known sage (in fact he only appears once in the Mishnah and once in the Toseftah). Here's the quote, with Artscroll inferences in parenthesis:
We know that one of Paul's great changes during the birth of early Christianity was getting rid of the Halachic system. He writes:
I can imagine the rabbis hearing this doctrine. For them commandments were paramount. So what did they do? They countered with a polemical text of their own. R. Chananya ben Akashya's statement is the anti-Paul statement. It's not that God loves us so he takes away the commandments. Rather it is because God loves us that he GIVES us the commandments! Moreover, God gives us many commandments so we might succeed in performing a lot of them (more brownie points).
For Paul the commandments were like SAT questions: to get them wrong would mean to deduct points. But for the rabbis, it's more like a Jewish summer camp color war: if you try hard and have the right spirit then everyone's a winner.
Hadran Aliech Masechet Makkot!
R. Chananya ben Akashya says: The Holy One Blessed is He, desires to confer merit upon Israel (i.e. to increase their reward by providing them with many opportunities for mitzvah observance) therefore, He gave them Torah and mitzvot in abundance.I haven't read anything about this to back up my claim, but I wonder if this statement is straight out of the history books.
We know that one of Paul's great changes during the birth of early Christianity was getting rid of the Halachic system. He writes:
What shall we say, then? Is the law sin? Certainly not! Indeed I would not have known what sin was except through the law. For I would not have known what coveting really was if the law had not said, "Do not covet." But sin, seizing the opportunity afforded by the commandment, produced in me every kind of covetous desire. For apart from law, sin is dead. Once I was alive apart from law; but when the commandment came, sin sprang to life and I died. I found that the very commandment that was intended to bring life actually brought death (Romans 7:7-10)This statement is one of a number where Paul talks about the problems of commandments. To summarize this statement (coupled with others), Paul felt that the flaw of the commandments were that we couldn't do them all and therefore, we would sin as we failed to observe our commandments. This sin would eventually lead to punishment. However, God, in his infinite grace (through Jesus) did away with the commandments and required us to have faith alone.
I can imagine the rabbis hearing this doctrine. For them commandments were paramount. So what did they do? They countered with a polemical text of their own. R. Chananya ben Akashya's statement is the anti-Paul statement. It's not that God loves us so he takes away the commandments. Rather it is because God loves us that he GIVES us the commandments! Moreover, God gives us many commandments so we might succeed in performing a lot of them (more brownie points).
For Paul the commandments were like SAT questions: to get them wrong would mean to deduct points. But for the rabbis, it's more like a Jewish summer camp color war: if you try hard and have the right spirit then everyone's a winner.
Hadran Aliech Masechet Makkot!
Friday, June 25, 2010
Will there be an asterisk?: Haftarah Balak
Micah 5:6-6:8
A quick search for the famous phrase from this week’s haftarah from the prophet Micah renders a number of inspirational t-shirts. This is my favorite.
Verse 6:8:
It has been told to you what is good, and that Adonai requires of you:
Only to do justice
And to love goodness
And to walk modestly with your God.
Jewish study Bible reminds us that this verse has been used to understand the essence of the commandments (b Makkot 24a). Micah took the 613 commandments, which already Isaiah whittled down to six, and made them three. These three.
What does it mean to do justice, to love goodness and walk modestly with God’s presence?
The Talmud teaches:
Micah came and reduced them to three [principles], as it is written, It hath been told thee, O man, what is good, and what the Lord doth require of thee: [i] only to do justly, and [ii] to love mercy and [iii] to walk humbly before thy God. To do justly, that is, maintaining justice; and to love mercy, that is, rendering every kind office; and walking humbly before thy God, that is, walking in funeral and bridal processions.
(BT Makkot 24a)
Another version:
What is the implication of the text, “It hath been told thee, O man, what is good, and what the Lord doth require of thee: Only to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God”? To do justly means [to act in accordance with] justice; to love mercy refers to acts of loving kindness and to walk humbly with thy God refers to attending to funerals and dowering a bride for her wedding.
(BT Sukkah 49b)
There is, at first glance, the difference between the translation of the Hebrew Hessed, alternately as mercy or as goodness (New JPS). The term in Hebrew can have either meaning, but also implies a certain fidelity and commitment. This added meaning can give a certain sense of clarity to how we understand this line and these three commands.
There is also the difference between the meaning of loving hessed. Is it about loving kindness or is it about rendering every kind of office? By focusing on hessed as a relational term, we can glean something else from these wise words.
Considering that through our relationships with others, we can and often do come to a relationship with God, the command to be just, be faithful and be humble in our dealings with God is perhaps not only about God, but how we should act toward one another.
How often do we consider the justice of our interactions with one another? How often do we consider the faith we place in one another? How often are we humble in the presence of the other?
Having been mesmerized by the 11 hour and 5 minute longest-tennis-match-in-the-history-of-the-world, I was struck by the remarks afterward by the competitors. Each, in the spirit of humility, faithfulness, and justice remarked at the fight and the drive of their opponent. There was a recognition of the fact that one could not be there without the other. All records will now be second best to this one.
In complete opposition to this, the French football debacle at the world cup represented the opposite. Fighting, blaming, suspicion, entitlement. Not a grand achievement, but an ignominious exit for les bleus. An asterisk recalling the expulsion of a player and the team's refusal to practice.
What does this tell us about tennis vs. soccer? Very little.
However, when the history is written, whether it be in a sports almanac or the pages of our and others’ memory, how will we want to be remembered for our interactions with others? How will we be remembered if we treat each other with the recognition of the divine in each person?
A quick search for the famous phrase from this week’s haftarah from the prophet Micah renders a number of inspirational t-shirts. This is my favorite.
Verse 6:8:
It has been told to you what is good, and that Adonai requires of you:
Only to do justice
And to love goodness
And to walk modestly with your God.
Jewish study Bible reminds us that this verse has been used to understand the essence of the commandments (b Makkot 24a). Micah took the 613 commandments, which already Isaiah whittled down to six, and made them three. These three.
What does it mean to do justice, to love goodness and walk modestly with God’s presence?
The Talmud teaches:
Micah came and reduced them to three [principles], as it is written, It hath been told thee, O man, what is good, and what the Lord doth require of thee: [i] only to do justly, and [ii] to love mercy and [iii] to walk humbly before thy God. To do justly, that is, maintaining justice; and to love mercy, that is, rendering every kind office; and walking humbly before thy God, that is, walking in funeral and bridal processions.
(BT Makkot 24a)
Another version:
What is the implication of the text, “It hath been told thee, O man, what is good, and what the Lord doth require of thee: Only to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God”? To do justly means [to act in accordance with] justice; to love mercy refers to acts of loving kindness and to walk humbly with thy God refers to attending to funerals and dowering a bride for her wedding.
(BT Sukkah 49b)
There is, at first glance, the difference between the translation of the Hebrew Hessed, alternately as mercy or as goodness (New JPS). The term in Hebrew can have either meaning, but also implies a certain fidelity and commitment. This added meaning can give a certain sense of clarity to how we understand this line and these three commands.
There is also the difference between the meaning of loving hessed. Is it about loving kindness or is it about rendering every kind of office? By focusing on hessed as a relational term, we can glean something else from these wise words.
Considering that through our relationships with others, we can and often do come to a relationship with God, the command to be just, be faithful and be humble in our dealings with God is perhaps not only about God, but how we should act toward one another.
How often do we consider the justice of our interactions with one another? How often do we consider the faith we place in one another? How often are we humble in the presence of the other?
Having been mesmerized by the 11 hour and 5 minute longest-tennis-match-in-the-history-of-the-world, I was struck by the remarks afterward by the competitors. Each, in the spirit of humility, faithfulness, and justice remarked at the fight and the drive of their opponent. There was a recognition of the fact that one could not be there without the other. All records will now be second best to this one.
In complete opposition to this, the French football debacle at the world cup represented the opposite. Fighting, blaming, suspicion, entitlement. Not a grand achievement, but an ignominious exit for les bleus. An asterisk recalling the expulsion of a player and the team's refusal to practice.
What does this tell us about tennis vs. soccer? Very little.
However, when the history is written, whether it be in a sports almanac or the pages of our and others’ memory, how will we want to be remembered for our interactions with others? How will we be remembered if we treat each other with the recognition of the divine in each person?
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
God of Our Fathers (Makkot 19a)
This summer I'm working on a project for HUC, designing a website to help rabbis and cantors with conversions. It will have texts, articles, and programs, pretty much anything you can think of, a one stop shop for everything conversion related.
In doing research I came across an article that I've been meaning to read, “Can Converts to Judaism say ‘God of our fathers’?” by Shaye J.D. Cohen in Judaism 40, 4 (1991) 419-428. We are going to ask Dr. Cohen's permission to include this article on the site, which means that I can't put it up here now.
Although I haven't gotten to it yet, I wonder if it includes sections from today's Daf. Here, Rav Ashi says that that a convert does not have to recite a blessing when he brings his first fruits (bikkurim) to God because he would have to say that God made a promise to "our fathers." Because he can't say this (because God didn't promise his father) he is exempt from this blessing.
Artscroll has an interesting note that speaks to the history of this trepidation to say "our fathers." We first see this idea appear in Bikkurim 1:4:
What was interesting about this answer was that I think there is an easier way (legally, although I would take the above answer when dealing with a real person's feelings). Yevamot 22a says that a convert is like a newborn baby. In that case, one who convert renounces their former father and is born anew. Who is their new father? The Jewish people are. Therefore, God is truly God of their fathers. Although I didn't see it, maybe someone at some time made this connection.
I think this debate is a very important one. How people who choose to convert to Judaism relate to issues like Jewish suffering, the Holocaust, the promise of Israel and other aspect of historical memory and connection are interesting. How much should we push a convert to embrace their "fathers" even if it seems unnatural?
Maybe Cohen addresses these question in his essay. Looks like I have some reading to do.
In doing research I came across an article that I've been meaning to read, “Can Converts to Judaism say ‘God of our fathers’?” by Shaye J.D. Cohen in Judaism 40, 4 (1991) 419-428. We are going to ask Dr. Cohen's permission to include this article on the site, which means that I can't put it up here now.
Although I haven't gotten to it yet, I wonder if it includes sections from today's Daf. Here, Rav Ashi says that that a convert does not have to recite a blessing when he brings his first fruits (bikkurim) to God because he would have to say that God made a promise to "our fathers." Because he can't say this (because God didn't promise his father) he is exempt from this blessing.
Artscroll has an interesting note that speaks to the history of this trepidation to say "our fathers." We first see this idea appear in Bikkurim 1:4:
THESE BRING [BIKKURIM] BUT DO NOT MAKE THE RECITAL: THE PROSELYTE, SINCE HE CANNOT SAY: WHICH THE LORD HATH SWORN TO OUR FATHERS, TO GIVE UNTO US’. IF HIS MOTHER WAS AN ISRAELITE, THEN HE BOTH BRINGS BIKKURIM AND RECITES THE DECLARATION. WHEN HE PRAYS PRIVATELY HE SHALL SAY:’O GOD OF THE FATHERS OF ISRAEL’; BUT WHEN HE IS IN THE SYNAGOGUE, HE SHOULD SAY: ‘THE GOD OF YOUR FATHERS’. BUT IF HIS MOTHER WAS AN ISRAELITE WOMAN, HE SAYS: ‘THE GOD OF OUR FATHERS’.As it happens, Jewish law doesn't follow this statement. According to a host of sources, Abraham is considered a father to "a multitude of nations" and therefore a convert is allowed to say "God of our fathers" because his father might have been Abraham.
What was interesting about this answer was that I think there is an easier way (legally, although I would take the above answer when dealing with a real person's feelings). Yevamot 22a says that a convert is like a newborn baby. In that case, one who convert renounces their former father and is born anew. Who is their new father? The Jewish people are. Therefore, God is truly God of their fathers. Although I didn't see it, maybe someone at some time made this connection.
I think this debate is a very important one. How people who choose to convert to Judaism relate to issues like Jewish suffering, the Holocaust, the promise of Israel and other aspect of historical memory and connection are interesting. How much should we push a convert to embrace their "fathers" even if it seems unnatural?
Maybe Cohen addresses these question in his essay. Looks like I have some reading to do.
Friday, June 18, 2010
One of us? Haftarah Hukkat
Judges 11:1-33
It is always difficult to find a hook in the haftarot that come from the historical books of the prophets. Though there are many ideas and narratives, somehow the theology in Isaiah or the visions in Ezekiel lend themselves to more interpretation.
Such appears to be the case here, with the story of Yiftach (Jephtah) the Gileadite who leads the Israelites to victory over the Ammonites. There are elements here about negotiations and treaties between nations, but this week, the most intriguing element comes at the beginning of the Haftarah.
Yiftach is the son of a prostitute. His father’s other children, those born to the father’s wife, drive out Yiftach taunting him, saying: “You shall have no share in our father’s property, for you are the son of an outsider.”
Yiftach, who helps bring God back into the community of Israel and helps them to conquer the land of the Ammonites is ostracized because of his lineage and where he comes from.
Prostitution notwithstanding, this kind of bigotry continues to this day in the land of Israel and by its rabbinical authorities no less. The current conversation and debate over the conversion bill making the rounds in the Kenesset in various iterations deal with exactly these questions.
Who is a Jew?
Who gets to be a part of the community of Israel?
Who gets to decide?
The conversion bill proposes that the Chief Rabbinate consolidate its control over conversions, moving it away from special conversion courts. Thus, according to the IRAC, this bill can prevent the acceptance of non-Orthodox conversions both inside and outside of Israel. Since non-Orthodox Judaism is not recognized in Israel to begin with, the Israel Supreme Court has had to intervene to allow converts from outside of Israel to gain rights as citizens of Israel under citizenship laws and laws of the Right of Return.
At the heart of this bill is the question of how we treat Jews-by-Choice and how much importance we place on birth. When Yiftach is shunned from his half-brothers, they were concerned about his birth. To them, his foreign birth makes him an outsider. His apparent love for his people notwithstanding, Yiftach is sent away, until he is needed.
‘Come back and be a chieftain among us!’ His “family” calls to him.
“You are the very people who rejected me! … How can you come to me now when you are in trouble?” (11:7)
If Israel is not careful, and continues to reject parts of the Jewish world from their heritage and birthright, she will lose them. They will not all be as comfortable as Yiftach coming back to save the day.
Israel already assumes that she has the support of American Jews, a majority of whom are Reform, Conservative and Reconstructionist Jews. When events like the Gaza flotilla happen, Israel anticipates the support of the American Jewish community. What will happen when the American Jewish community doesn’t feel welcome by Israel any more? Will we stand alongside our “family” those who rejected us and our Judaism?
One might criticize and say that this argument conflates the religion of Israel and its politics. But, Israel has been doing that since its inception. There is a fine line between religion and politics in Israel, and it grows fainter every time measures like this conversion bill are proposed and taken seriously. Are we supposed to accept and approve Israel’s politics blindly and also turn a blind eye to its religious dicta which deny rights to the non-orthodox?
Israel asks us all to be Yiftach on a regular basis. For now, it seems to be working, but it won’t be long before Israel does something truly unpleasing to the eyes of the diaspora Jews and what will happen then?
We should move away from being so concerned about birthplace and building fences around the Torah and around the religious establishment in order to solidify its power and influence. We should tear these fences down and uncover the heart of the Torah and its message. It is a message of acceptance without question of those desiring to be welcomed into the community. Its message is love and justice, goodness and hope. Freedom is its gift to all who cherish it. Freedom to worship as Jews. Freedom to live as Jews in the homeland for the Jews.
Shabbat Shalom
It is always difficult to find a hook in the haftarot that come from the historical books of the prophets. Though there are many ideas and narratives, somehow the theology in Isaiah or the visions in Ezekiel lend themselves to more interpretation.
Such appears to be the case here, with the story of Yiftach (Jephtah) the Gileadite who leads the Israelites to victory over the Ammonites. There are elements here about negotiations and treaties between nations, but this week, the most intriguing element comes at the beginning of the Haftarah.
Yiftach is the son of a prostitute. His father’s other children, those born to the father’s wife, drive out Yiftach taunting him, saying: “You shall have no share in our father’s property, for you are the son of an outsider.”
Yiftach, who helps bring God back into the community of Israel and helps them to conquer the land of the Ammonites is ostracized because of his lineage and where he comes from.
Prostitution notwithstanding, this kind of bigotry continues to this day in the land of Israel and by its rabbinical authorities no less. The current conversation and debate over the conversion bill making the rounds in the Kenesset in various iterations deal with exactly these questions.
Who is a Jew?
Who gets to be a part of the community of Israel?
Who gets to decide?
The conversion bill proposes that the Chief Rabbinate consolidate its control over conversions, moving it away from special conversion courts. Thus, according to the IRAC, this bill can prevent the acceptance of non-Orthodox conversions both inside and outside of Israel. Since non-Orthodox Judaism is not recognized in Israel to begin with, the Israel Supreme Court has had to intervene to allow converts from outside of Israel to gain rights as citizens of Israel under citizenship laws and laws of the Right of Return.
At the heart of this bill is the question of how we treat Jews-by-Choice and how much importance we place on birth. When Yiftach is shunned from his half-brothers, they were concerned about his birth. To them, his foreign birth makes him an outsider. His apparent love for his people notwithstanding, Yiftach is sent away, until he is needed.
‘Come back and be a chieftain among us!’ His “family” calls to him.
“You are the very people who rejected me! … How can you come to me now when you are in trouble?” (11:7)
If Israel is not careful, and continues to reject parts of the Jewish world from their heritage and birthright, she will lose them. They will not all be as comfortable as Yiftach coming back to save the day.
Israel already assumes that she has the support of American Jews, a majority of whom are Reform, Conservative and Reconstructionist Jews. When events like the Gaza flotilla happen, Israel anticipates the support of the American Jewish community. What will happen when the American Jewish community doesn’t feel welcome by Israel any more? Will we stand alongside our “family” those who rejected us and our Judaism?
One might criticize and say that this argument conflates the religion of Israel and its politics. But, Israel has been doing that since its inception. There is a fine line between religion and politics in Israel, and it grows fainter every time measures like this conversion bill are proposed and taken seriously. Are we supposed to accept and approve Israel’s politics blindly and also turn a blind eye to its religious dicta which deny rights to the non-orthodox?
Israel asks us all to be Yiftach on a regular basis. For now, it seems to be working, but it won’t be long before Israel does something truly unpleasing to the eyes of the diaspora Jews and what will happen then?
We should move away from being so concerned about birthplace and building fences around the Torah and around the religious establishment in order to solidify its power and influence. We should tear these fences down and uncover the heart of the Torah and its message. It is a message of acceptance without question of those desiring to be welcomed into the community. Its message is love and justice, goodness and hope. Freedom is its gift to all who cherish it. Freedom to worship as Jews. Freedom to live as Jews in the homeland for the Jews.
Shabbat Shalom
Sunday, June 13, 2010
What is an enemy (San 9b)
I've been in the following situation a number of times. I get in a fight with a friend. After storming off, I'm not ready to talk with this friend, so I avoid him. Days pass and still I am not ready to talk with him. Perhaps this is because I am angry or perhaps this is because I am too proud to apologize for my role in the fight. Nevertheless, I know that when we do see each other things will be fine, because throughout this ordeal we are still friends at our core.
Or are we?
According to today's daf (actually the footnotes on today's daf - the actual source for the following is found in tractate Sanhedrin) one turns from a friend to an enemy if you go three days without speaking because of anger.
The implications of this are important for Talmud's discussion surrounding the "city of refuge." In this case if you kill someone inadvertently, you may flee to one of these cities, however it gets a lot more complicated if the person you kill is your enemy.
Leaving this context aside, I think the idea of the enemy is very important. How many times have we actually turned a friend into an enemy because we went too long without speaking after a fight? The Talmud has created a countdown for us (a three day limit of silence). From the minute we part ways after an argument we have three days to make amends. Maybe if we follow this timeline we'll keep a lot more friends and seriously limit the number of enemies in our lives.
Or are we?
According to today's daf (actually the footnotes on today's daf - the actual source for the following is found in tractate Sanhedrin) one turns from a friend to an enemy if you go three days without speaking because of anger.
The implications of this are important for Talmud's discussion surrounding the "city of refuge." In this case if you kill someone inadvertently, you may flee to one of these cities, however it gets a lot more complicated if the person you kill is your enemy.
Leaving this context aside, I think the idea of the enemy is very important. How many times have we actually turned a friend into an enemy because we went too long without speaking after a fight? The Talmud has created a countdown for us (a three day limit of silence). From the minute we part ways after an argument we have three days to make amends. Maybe if we follow this timeline we'll keep a lot more friends and seriously limit the number of enemies in our lives.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Look to the Skies! Haftarah Rosh Hodesh
Isaiah 66:1-24
When Rosh Hodesh falls on Shabbat, a special Haftarah is read. Coming from the last chapter of Isaiah, there is a vision of new moon after new moon and Sabbath after Sabbath as a promise of God’s unending relationship with humanity. God’s sovereignty will endure forever.
At the beginning of the chapter, we have God’s lamenting the troubles in getting someone’s attention.
For I called and none responded,I spoke and none paid heed.
- Verse 4
God wants us to pay attention. When we don’t pay attention, God stops being nice.
I attended an interfaith group meeting yesterday whose speaker was Pablo Suarez, one of two climate change experts that works for the Red Cross Red Crescent society. He spoke to us about what it means to be proactive about climate change at the local level and how that affects society at a global level. He spoke about how understanding the changes that are happening and working to be ready for them can prevent food shortages and deaths. He spoke about common sense solutions like storing grain in bags as opposed to granaries. When heavier than normal rains come, which happens more and more often these days, the bags can be moved to higher ground and the food saved.
These ideas save money, prevent the need for disaster relief and put survival and recovery int the hands of the people much sooner than the Red Cross can get there. These ideas aside—and there were many of them—Mr. Suarez then moved the conversation to the metaphysical. He asked us to determine if we believed a variety of climate issues were the cause of Man, Nature or God.
Man. Nature. God.
The ice caps melting. Man? Nature? God?
The flooding after hurricane Katrina. Man? Nature? God?
The Tsunami in Indonesia. Man? Nature? God?
The deaths after Katrina. Man? Nature? God?
The oil spill in the gulf. Man? Nature? God?
The list went on.
One response from the audience to this list and the options presented was that perhaps there was no difference between God and Nature. I also considered that I have often mentioned that I believe when we work for positive change, we are partnering with God.
God? Man? Nature?
As I was listening to this I was wondering about the message that we are supposed to be getting when nature is talking to us. Whose attention is nature trying to get? What is going to happen when we don’t listen, or can’t listen or choose not to listen, or let politics dictate what we think science is telling us?
It will soon become the case that something will replace the oil spill and its effects in the news and in the American consciousness. Remember Haiti? Remember Darfur?
God. Nature. Man.
God’s complaint in the opening verses of this chapter from Isaiah speaks for the complaint of more than God. It speaks for the complaint of Nature and Man as well. God is not the only thing that we sometimes tend to ignore.
Who will we pay attention to this week, this month, this year? There are so many things that need our attention. Let us hope that we can give it when it is warrented.
Shabbat Shalom
When Rosh Hodesh falls on Shabbat, a special Haftarah is read. Coming from the last chapter of Isaiah, there is a vision of new moon after new moon and Sabbath after Sabbath as a promise of God’s unending relationship with humanity. God’s sovereignty will endure forever.
At the beginning of the chapter, we have God’s lamenting the troubles in getting someone’s attention.
For I called and none responded,I spoke and none paid heed.
- Verse 4
God wants us to pay attention. When we don’t pay attention, God stops being nice.
I attended an interfaith group meeting yesterday whose speaker was Pablo Suarez, one of two climate change experts that works for the Red Cross Red Crescent society. He spoke to us about what it means to be proactive about climate change at the local level and how that affects society at a global level. He spoke about how understanding the changes that are happening and working to be ready for them can prevent food shortages and deaths. He spoke about common sense solutions like storing grain in bags as opposed to granaries. When heavier than normal rains come, which happens more and more often these days, the bags can be moved to higher ground and the food saved.
These ideas save money, prevent the need for disaster relief and put survival and recovery int the hands of the people much sooner than the Red Cross can get there. These ideas aside—and there were many of them—Mr. Suarez then moved the conversation to the metaphysical. He asked us to determine if we believed a variety of climate issues were the cause of Man, Nature or God.
Man. Nature. God.
The ice caps melting. Man? Nature? God?
The flooding after hurricane Katrina. Man? Nature? God?
The Tsunami in Indonesia. Man? Nature? God?
The deaths after Katrina. Man? Nature? God?
The oil spill in the gulf. Man? Nature? God?
The list went on.
One response from the audience to this list and the options presented was that perhaps there was no difference between God and Nature. I also considered that I have often mentioned that I believe when we work for positive change, we are partnering with God.
God? Man? Nature?
As I was listening to this I was wondering about the message that we are supposed to be getting when nature is talking to us. Whose attention is nature trying to get? What is going to happen when we don’t listen, or can’t listen or choose not to listen, or let politics dictate what we think science is telling us?
It will soon become the case that something will replace the oil spill and its effects in the news and in the American consciousness. Remember Haiti? Remember Darfur?
God. Nature. Man.
God’s complaint in the opening verses of this chapter from Isaiah speaks for the complaint of more than God. It speaks for the complaint of Nature and Man as well. God is not the only thing that we sometimes tend to ignore.
Who will we pay attention to this week, this month, this year? There are so many things that need our attention. Let us hope that we can give it when it is warrented.
Shabbat Shalom
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Mikveh Waters (Makkot 4a)
If there was a giant oil spill in the gulf of Mexico, would the waters be invalidated as a mikveh?
Today, the gemara debates whether a mikveh becomes invalid when different amounts of either drawn water or other liquid substances mix with the free flowing mikveh waters. The first round of discussions focuses on a mikveh that does not yet contain the necessary amount of water to make it valid (forty se'ah). The rabbis discuss what happens if a small amount of drawn water enters the mikveh, and what happens if that drawn water was diluted by another substance like wine (which changes the color) or milk (which does not change the color). Even though there are different opinions on each of these circumstances, it is clear that the amount of outside liquid does matter in determining if the entire mikveh is invalidated.
The next case discusses what happens if a barrel of such a substance (drawn water or other liquid substance) comes in contact with an open body of water, like the Mediterranean Sea or a river. Rav holds that there are different rulings for a sea verses a river. A sea is stationary (קיימא) and maintains the foreign substance whereas a river has a current which disperses the substance to a new area by the time a person immerses (4a2).
So what about a gulf? A gulf is in some ways stationary like a sea, but it also has a current like a river. Many predict that the oil in the gulf will remain for years and years in addition to also making its way via current into the greater Atlantic ocean.
I have almost no doubt that the rabbis would say the oil spill in the gulf has rendered the waters invalid for mikveh immersion. I wonder though, what happens when the oil moves up the coast of the United States and into the greater Atlantic Ocean? What percentage of oil makes a gigantic body of water invalid and does it matter if one immerses in a safe zone that is surrounded by troubled waters?
Though we obviously don't need the Talmud to teach us that too much of a foreign substance (especially oil!) is never a good thing for fresh flowing water, I think we can learn something from the presence of this discussion in the gemara.
Today, the gemara debates whether a mikveh becomes invalid when different amounts of either drawn water or other liquid substances mix with the free flowing mikveh waters. The first round of discussions focuses on a mikveh that does not yet contain the necessary amount of water to make it valid (forty se'ah). The rabbis discuss what happens if a small amount of drawn water enters the mikveh, and what happens if that drawn water was diluted by another substance like wine (which changes the color) or milk (which does not change the color). Even though there are different opinions on each of these circumstances, it is clear that the amount of outside liquid does matter in determining if the entire mikveh is invalidated.
The next case discusses what happens if a barrel of such a substance (drawn water or other liquid substance) comes in contact with an open body of water, like the Mediterranean Sea or a river. Rav holds that there are different rulings for a sea verses a river. A sea is stationary (קיימא) and maintains the foreign substance whereas a river has a current which disperses the substance to a new area by the time a person immerses (4a2).
So what about a gulf? A gulf is in some ways stationary like a sea, but it also has a current like a river. Many predict that the oil in the gulf will remain for years and years in addition to also making its way via current into the greater Atlantic ocean.
I have almost no doubt that the rabbis would say the oil spill in the gulf has rendered the waters invalid for mikveh immersion. I wonder though, what happens when the oil moves up the coast of the United States and into the greater Atlantic Ocean? What percentage of oil makes a gigantic body of water invalid and does it matter if one immerses in a safe zone that is surrounded by troubled waters?
Though we obviously don't need the Talmud to teach us that too much of a foreign substance (especially oil!) is never a good thing for fresh flowing water, I think we can learn something from the presence of this discussion in the gemara.
With all the anger, drama and finger pointing going on with the situation in the gulf, this passage reminds me that this issue is so much greater than money, politics, and even the environment. This is truly an issue of holiness. The water of a mikveh is supposed to be fresh flowing because it represents the mayim chayim, the living waters, that sustain us and purify us. Water is in many ways the essence of holiness. If we want to strive for holiness in our world, we must dedicate ourselves to protecting our waters. Sure, we may accidently spill a bottle of wine or even a barrel of oil, but we must absolutely do everything in our power to prevent this type of spill from ever occurring again.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Too loaded (San 113a)
Yesterday we finished Sanhedrin. Today we begin Makkot. However, I want to explore an important issue that came up in yesterday's daf.
In a somewhat lengthy discussion of Jericho we learn that it is both forbidden to rebuild a city in Jericho or to build a city anywhere else with the name Jericho.
I've been thinking a lot about that teaching. Today there are names (and terms) that are out of bounds. I'm not sure if I know anyone in America who would name their child Adolph Hitler (although there are some exceptions). The same goes with Amalek. Words too express this idea. In college a friend and I thought it would be funny to take back the word kike, just as the GLBT community has taken back the word queer. It was to no avail. It was too charged, too offensive.
However, the GLBT community has succeed in taking back the world queer just as the black community has taken back the n-word. So what makes these movements different? Didn't they reclaim a loaded and historically problematic word? Is it so wrong to build city called Jericho. Isn't there one on Long Island! Can't this city (my mother's birthplace) remind us of of Joshua's quest and its dominant themes (God's power, human faith)?
Leaving aside New York's decision to go ahead and reclaim the name, I understand the Rabbi's point of view. Unless a movement of people get behind a word they cannot reclaim it. For the Rabbis, Jericho was too loaded a term (theologically that is) in order to be reclaimed. Maybe we too will reclaim kike for ourselves, but until then, let's leave that one for the history books, right alongside the biblical notion of Jericho.
In a somewhat lengthy discussion of Jericho we learn that it is both forbidden to rebuild a city in Jericho or to build a city anywhere else with the name Jericho.
I've been thinking a lot about that teaching. Today there are names (and terms) that are out of bounds. I'm not sure if I know anyone in America who would name their child Adolph Hitler (although there are some exceptions). The same goes with Amalek. Words too express this idea. In college a friend and I thought it would be funny to take back the word kike, just as the GLBT community has taken back the word queer. It was to no avail. It was too charged, too offensive.
However, the GLBT community has succeed in taking back the world queer just as the black community has taken back the n-word. So what makes these movements different? Didn't they reclaim a loaded and historically problematic word? Is it so wrong to build city called Jericho. Isn't there one on Long Island! Can't this city (my mother's birthplace) remind us of of Joshua's quest and its dominant themes (God's power, human faith)?
Leaving aside New York's decision to go ahead and reclaim the name, I understand the Rabbi's point of view. Unless a movement of people get behind a word they cannot reclaim it. For the Rabbis, Jericho was too loaded a term (theologically that is) in order to be reclaimed. Maybe we too will reclaim kike for ourselves, but until then, let's leave that one for the history books, right alongside the biblical notion of Jericho.
Friday, June 4, 2010
On entering the Promised Land: Haftarah Sh’lach Lecha
Joshua 2:1-24
Everybody, it seems, wants to get into this place. It was the goal of the Israelites. Since the year 70, it had been the Jews’ hope to return. During the Crusades, the Christians and Muslims fought over the land, trading ownership frequently. The British coveted it. Modern Middle Eastern nations have pledged to sweep through all the way to the sea, destroying the Jews along the way. And this past week, 700-ish activists, made an attempt to get their cargo into Gaza. What is it about this land?
This week’s Haftarah, from the book of Joshua, tells us about the spies that Joshua sent to Jericho to scout out the land and determine what the prospects were for victory. They meet a woman of ill-repute with a heart of gold named Rahab, who hides the spies and tells them where to go to keep away from Jericho’s forces. Unlike those around her, she does not fear the Israelites, but sees an opportunity to be saved by them. For her help, she and her family are spared the fate of the rest of the city of Jericho.
So, what is it about this land? Everyone has their own reasons for wanting this land. The Israelites are promised the land by God. The Christians came to help out their Byzantine cousins. The Muslims felt that it belonged to them. The British love owning things. Certain modern Middle Eastern nations have a view of a Muslim Middle East that doesn’t include Jews or westerners. And, the 700 activists? They wanted to bring aid to Gaza. Or they wanted to break the Israeli blockade. Or they wanted to prove a point. Or they hate Israel. Or they hate Jews. Or they love Palestinians. Or they wanted to transfer money to purchase weapons. Or they knew that Israel would overreact. Or they wanted publicity. Or any combination of the above.
Either way, they sailed their boats, ready for confrontation, ready to try to make a difference for a cause they believe in, whichever it may be. There is no question that Israeli forces could have done something better advised, like not go at night and not drop down from a helicopter. There is also no question that the activists, who from the looks of their rage in attacking the Israeli forces want peace about as much as they wanted to be boarded by Israelis, could have done something better advised, like allowing the cargo to enter Israel and then be transported to Gaza.*
The flotilla wanted to get to the land. The blockade is a reminder of the walls of Jericho. Some hope that it will come crumbling down, and the world is calling for it. At this point, it seems inevitable that it will at least come down in parts. Others hold firm in their belief that the wall is necessary. Has the wall stopped bombs from falling on Israel? No. But who is to say how many more may have fallen? Has the wall weakened Hamas? Who are you asking?
Is Israel the new Jericho, building walls for her security and hoping they don’t crumble? Israel sends its troops out to attack the spies in one place, but it appears that the real danger and the real enemy are in another place altogether. The real danger is not the crumbling of walls; it is the building of walls between Israel and her allies, few though they may be. The United States is not thrilled and is demanding a new tactic that is not a blockade of Gaza. Turkey, once Israel’s strongest Muslim ally, is enraged and threatening to sever certain diplomatic ties. If Israel is not careful, she will not be the new Jericho, she will become the new Gaza. Who, then, will sail a flotilla to come to her defense?
Israel has offered a two-state solution, but Israel cannot have a terrorist state next door, they say. (Syria and Lebanon, notwithstanding, apparently.) It’s hard to negotiate when no one will sit at the other side of the table. When the Israelites came toward the land of Jericho, the residents trembled in fear, knowing what the Israelites had done to other enemy nations. The Israeli Military used to instill that fear, and used it as a deterrent, but now seems to make a mess out of almost everything that it attempts to do.
It is not boats or commandos or flotillas of aid or helicopters that will solve this. It’s hard to know what, if anything, may. So many of us, these days, feel like the residents of Jericho, fearful of the prospects on the horizon. Hoping for peace, but knowing that the alternative is sure to stick around for a long while. So many of us have lost faith in the peace process after so many starts and stops. So many of us are tired of watching the walls of peace crumble in front of us, on the news. So many of us are tired of the rhetoric and the hatred and the death. Surely all the inhabitants of the land are quaking today, this week, this month, perhaps even a little bit more than usual.
Rockets in the North, Kidnapped Soldiers, The War in Lebanon, Rockets in the South, The War in Gaza, the Flotilla, Not sitting down to talk: all circuits around the walls of peace. How many more until it falls?
The books of Joshua and Judges are filled with warring tribes and conquering of land between ancient enemies. These ancient enemies never stop being so. They fight until one is destroyed. Let us pray that these books become more of a religio-historical document than a prophetic one.
Shabbat Shalom
*although…
Everybody, it seems, wants to get into this place. It was the goal of the Israelites. Since the year 70, it had been the Jews’ hope to return. During the Crusades, the Christians and Muslims fought over the land, trading ownership frequently. The British coveted it. Modern Middle Eastern nations have pledged to sweep through all the way to the sea, destroying the Jews along the way. And this past week, 700-ish activists, made an attempt to get their cargo into Gaza. What is it about this land?
This week’s Haftarah, from the book of Joshua, tells us about the spies that Joshua sent to Jericho to scout out the land and determine what the prospects were for victory. They meet a woman of ill-repute with a heart of gold named Rahab, who hides the spies and tells them where to go to keep away from Jericho’s forces. Unlike those around her, she does not fear the Israelites, but sees an opportunity to be saved by them. For her help, she and her family are spared the fate of the rest of the city of Jericho.
So, what is it about this land? Everyone has their own reasons for wanting this land. The Israelites are promised the land by God. The Christians came to help out their Byzantine cousins. The Muslims felt that it belonged to them. The British love owning things. Certain modern Middle Eastern nations have a view of a Muslim Middle East that doesn’t include Jews or westerners. And, the 700 activists? They wanted to bring aid to Gaza. Or they wanted to break the Israeli blockade. Or they wanted to prove a point. Or they hate Israel. Or they hate Jews. Or they love Palestinians. Or they wanted to transfer money to purchase weapons. Or they knew that Israel would overreact. Or they wanted publicity. Or any combination of the above.
Either way, they sailed their boats, ready for confrontation, ready to try to make a difference for a cause they believe in, whichever it may be. There is no question that Israeli forces could have done something better advised, like not go at night and not drop down from a helicopter. There is also no question that the activists, who from the looks of their rage in attacking the Israeli forces want peace about as much as they wanted to be boarded by Israelis, could have done something better advised, like allowing the cargo to enter Israel and then be transported to Gaza.*
The flotilla wanted to get to the land. The blockade is a reminder of the walls of Jericho. Some hope that it will come crumbling down, and the world is calling for it. At this point, it seems inevitable that it will at least come down in parts. Others hold firm in their belief that the wall is necessary. Has the wall stopped bombs from falling on Israel? No. But who is to say how many more may have fallen? Has the wall weakened Hamas? Who are you asking?
Is Israel the new Jericho, building walls for her security and hoping they don’t crumble? Israel sends its troops out to attack the spies in one place, but it appears that the real danger and the real enemy are in another place altogether. The real danger is not the crumbling of walls; it is the building of walls between Israel and her allies, few though they may be. The United States is not thrilled and is demanding a new tactic that is not a blockade of Gaza. Turkey, once Israel’s strongest Muslim ally, is enraged and threatening to sever certain diplomatic ties. If Israel is not careful, she will not be the new Jericho, she will become the new Gaza. Who, then, will sail a flotilla to come to her defense?
Israel has offered a two-state solution, but Israel cannot have a terrorist state next door, they say. (Syria and Lebanon, notwithstanding, apparently.) It’s hard to negotiate when no one will sit at the other side of the table. When the Israelites came toward the land of Jericho, the residents trembled in fear, knowing what the Israelites had done to other enemy nations. The Israeli Military used to instill that fear, and used it as a deterrent, but now seems to make a mess out of almost everything that it attempts to do.
It is not boats or commandos or flotillas of aid or helicopters that will solve this. It’s hard to know what, if anything, may. So many of us, these days, feel like the residents of Jericho, fearful of the prospects on the horizon. Hoping for peace, but knowing that the alternative is sure to stick around for a long while. So many of us have lost faith in the peace process after so many starts and stops. So many of us are tired of watching the walls of peace crumble in front of us, on the news. So many of us are tired of the rhetoric and the hatred and the death. Surely all the inhabitants of the land are quaking today, this week, this month, perhaps even a little bit more than usual.
Rockets in the North, Kidnapped Soldiers, The War in Lebanon, Rockets in the South, The War in Gaza, the Flotilla, Not sitting down to talk: all circuits around the walls of peace. How many more until it falls?
The books of Joshua and Judges are filled with warring tribes and conquering of land between ancient enemies. These ancient enemies never stop being so. They fight until one is destroyed. Let us pray that these books become more of a religio-historical document than a prophetic one.
Shabbat Shalom
*although…
Rabbah Bar Bar Hana (110a)
There are a series of stories in Bava Batra that peaked my interest. They are mostly told by Rabbah bar bar Hana and they make almost no sense. For this reason, they have become allegories for some of the most important ideas in Judaism (most notably issues surrounding the evil inclination). Yesterday's daf had a parallel from one of these stories (the 14th, from B.B 74a). Here it is in soncino translation, my comments in italics:
According to him, this story reminds us that Korach's men erred in two respects (how he arrived at this concept requires a closer reading). On the one hand, Korach's men thought that everyone is worthy to obtain prophesy and connection to God. However, this is not true, there are some people that are more worthy and Moses is one of them (I think he gets this from the first part of the statement, "Moses...[is] true.") The second mistake is that they thought that divine Providence is equal among everyone. Knowing what I know about Rambam's notion of Providence in the Guide for the Perplexed (who he quotes) Providence and Torah are intimately tied. Here is a quote from the Jewish Encyclopedia.
I don't bring this commentary for any reason other than to show that there is a rich body of work (much of it which needs more translation and more scholarly study), namely later commentaries on the aggadic portions of the Talmud. These commentaries are fascinating and deserve a great deal of attention.
Rabbah b. Bar Hana said: I was proceeding on my travels, when an Arab said to me, ‘Come, and I will show you where the men of Korah were swallowed up.’ I went and saw two cracks whence issued smoke. Thereupon he took a piece of clipped wool, soaked it in water, attached it to the point of his spear, and passed it over there, and it was singed. He said to me, ‘Listen to what you are about to hear.’ And I heard them saying thus [voices from under the ground]: ‘Moses and his Torah are true, but they [Korah's company] are liars.’ [these are actually Korah's group speaking in 3rd person about themselves]. The Arabian then said to me, ‘Every thirty days Gehenna causes them to turn back [here] like meat in a pot, and they say thus: "Moses and his Torah are true, but they [we] are liars."There are a lot of interpretations of this text, the most basic is that Korah's men bemoan their rebellion and openly admit the truth of Moses's leadership and his Torah. I want to bring another very interesting interpretation by a commentator "benyamin amar" (lit. Benjamin Zev Wolf HaLevi, born around 1740).
According to him, this story reminds us that Korach's men erred in two respects (how he arrived at this concept requires a closer reading). On the one hand, Korach's men thought that everyone is worthy to obtain prophesy and connection to God. However, this is not true, there are some people that are more worthy and Moses is one of them (I think he gets this from the first part of the statement, "Moses...[is] true.") The second mistake is that they thought that divine Providence is equal among everyone. Knowing what I know about Rambam's notion of Providence in the Guide for the Perplexed (who he quotes) Providence and Torah are intimately tied. Here is a quote from the Jewish Encyclopedia.
Maimonides then proceeds to expound the theory of the Jewish religion. Man is free and God is just. Good is given man as a reward, evil as a punishment. All is adjusted according to merit. Providence, practically, is concerned only about man. The relation of providence is not the same to all men. Divine influence reaches man through the intellect. The greater man's share in this divine influence, the greater the effect of divine providence on him. With the Prophets it varies according to their prophetic faculty; in the case of pious and good men, according to their piety and uprightness. The impious are become like beasts, and are thus outside the scope of providence. God is for the pious a most special providence.Therefore the more one studies and the closer one is to Torah the better and easier it is to connect to God and the more influence Providence will have over him.
I don't bring this commentary for any reason other than to show that there is a rich body of work (much of it which needs more translation and more scholarly study), namely later commentaries on the aggadic portions of the Talmud. These commentaries are fascinating and deserve a great deal of attention.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The Obstacles of Luxury (San 108a & San 109a)
The discussion over the past few days has focused on how different groups of people lost their share in the world to come. The rabbis give many different examples of what the groups did to transgress their way out of olam ha'baah. One reoccurring thread used in discussion with the generation of Noah and the Sodomites is how wealth and fortune turned into arrogance and transgression.
לא נתגאו אלא בשביל טובה שהשפיע להם הקדוש ברוך הוא
The people of Sodom/the generation of the flood became arrogant only because of the bounty that the Holy One, Blessed is He, Lavished upon them. (108a2 and 109a4)
The obvious take away is how dangerous money, wealth, power, etc can be for a group of people. What I think is so interesting is the way the rabbis emphasize that they only became arrogant because of something God gave to them. So, who are the rabbis blaming, God or the people? It seems to me that the rabbis are putting some of the responsibility on God, who gave the people an obstacle they couldn't overcome.
As I was writing this post a crazy thing happened.
An umpire, Jim Joyce, blew a call that caused Armando Galarraga to lose a perfect game on literally the last out. If you don't know anything about baseball this is like the biggest deal ever. The stadium (and virtual world) erupted with such anger because we all had the fortune of watching the replay and could clearly see that the ump blew the call. Basically, we have been given a gift of technology, and this gift makes us feel entitled to justice. The game of baseball gives the luxury of "replay" to the fans but not the umpires (for this type of call). A lot of people are against replay in baseball, feeling that human error is part of the sport. This may be true in the moment for those on the field, but the problem is that it is too late for the rest of us watching on TV. Nothing good comes out of the umpire and the player walking in to the bullpen and seeing that a human error cost a perfect game. The umpire feels horrible, the player is probably devastated, and the fans are enraged. We have been given an obstacle (technology) that we can't overcome.
I don't think the rabbis in the gemara were necessarily blaming God and I also don't think the people who are outraged about this call are blaming technology either. We know replay is dangerous, but we can't not watch. I think the same was probably true for the generation of Noah and the Sodomites. There were probably those who understood that their wealth was getting the best of them, but at the end of the day, they didn't really want to give up their comfortable lives. I guess the lesson here is that we as a society need to learn how to deal with the gifts we are given. I think it is especially important that these passages discuss groups, not individuals. I believe individuals are better at overcoming arrogance and living modestly than groups are. As a leader in my different communities, I wonder what I can do to help combat societal arrogance and help my community overcome the many obstacles that our lives of leisure give us.
Importance of Hospitality (San 109b)
We read in Shabbat 127a about the paramount place of hospitality in our tradition. This idea is only underscored in today's daf. Here we read that the sin of the Sodomites was that they failed be hospitable. The Talmud gives more examples than I can enumerate here, but some of the highlights include:
- A legal system that benefits the natives and penalizes the foreigner (those who take boats pay less than those who cross water themselves, something no rationale person from the outside could have guessed)
- Hotel owners that cut off the legs of tall patrons and stretch those of short ones.
- Givers of charity who mark their coins, give them to the poor, but then refuse to sell them bread (after the newly "rich" beggar dies from hunger the residents take back their original coins).
What I love about these ideas are that they take the emphasis off the "sexual iniquities" of the Sodomites and emphasize something much more basic: the way we treat the stranger in our midst matters and can either lead to our punishment or our redemption.
The other thing I love about these interpretations is the they act as a foil to Abraham. We all know Abraham as the paradigm of hospitality (the rabbis even claim that Abraham would serve non-kosher food to his guests [Gen. 18] because he knows that is what they like to eat). I'm a sucker for literary illusions and thematic plays. By creating a culture who stand opposite Abraham, Sodom and it's residents take on a whole new (and complex) meaning.
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