In a meeting this past week of the leadership of the most “prominent” kollels under the auspices of Harav Elyashiv and Harav Shteinman an astonishing announcement was made: to hold a Yom tefillah on Nov. 13. The purpose of the Yom Tefilla is to “storm the gates of heaven” (it sounds like a line out of a Shlomo Carlebach sing-a-long) and plead for the financial health of Jewish philanthropists so that they can continue and donate to yeshivas and kollels. How proud they must be. How accomplished they must feel to have stooped to such a level.
Once again the hareidi community has demonstrated their self centered egocentricity, diminishing their self respect and robbing them of any moral capital that they may have once had. One would have thought that the economic meltdown which has had a global affect so powerful that it has been referred to as a “tsunami”, would recast the priorities of these spiritual (?) leaders.
The economic crisis has brought a starving and disease ridden Africa to new unbearable heights of suffering and deprivation. People throughout the world have seen their retirement savings evaporate and their future golden years not very promising. Businesses have been eradicated in short order, in the blink of an eye; thousands of employees who left for work in the morning returned home without jobs and without hopes of finding work in the near future, if ever.
Our sages and rabbis could care less about how our global village is being economically ravaged. Rather than call a Yom Tefillah for the financial health of our global village they selfishly concern themselves with a relative few insignificant kollelnikim. Their concern is that philanthropists will manage to escape this tsunami and continue supporting their institutions which do little for the betterment of the world we inhabit. Their only pedestrian concern is that the “chalukah” continue, no matter that there are starving babies in Africa and parts of Asia. The assistant director of nursery schools, Yaakov Segal’s comments were very revealing when he said:
“But now with key donors cutting back their donations in response to financial uncertainty, the damage that this will inflict on Torah study will lead to devastation in the world…Repentance, prayer and charity can reverse a hard decree.”
What Segal doesn’t get is that this was not the result of a harsh decree from God. This was a result of greed, and it was from this greed that Segal and the gedolim benefitted. In effect, what they are praying for is that the greed should continue in order that they can continue to maintain the Issachar-Zevulun model.
If the gedolim had any spirituality they ought to be doing two things: Instituting a day of prayer where they would be praying for the combined wisdom of western leaders to design and develop a system for economic recovery. They ought to be praying for the wisdom to redefine their Torah enterprises, and set them into a new direction. They need to become self reliant, and realistically scale back those in kollels to only the most outstanding and promising and those turned away, encouraged to work.
Just this past week, Jonathan Rosenblum writing in Mishpacha claims that there is a silver lining in this financial meltdown. When one is without the securities that we take for granted “bitachon” ought to kick in. He sites the story of Rabbi Yechezkel Levenstein told by the magggid Rabbi Shalom Schwadron, that when Rabbi Levenstein received a regular pay check he wasn’t able to exercise his “bitachon”. Only when the paychecks became more erratic did his “bitachon” kick in. I’d recommend that the gedolim begin living with a little more “bitachon” in hashem and less “bitachon” in their philanthropists.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Sunday, November 9, 2008
A Muse: Vayera 2008
“Abraham came forward and said, ‘will You sweep away the innocent along with the guilty? What if there should be fifty innocent within the city; will You then wipe out the place and not forgive it for the sake of the innocent fifty who are in it? Far be it from You to do such a thing, to bring death upon the innocent as well as the guilty, so that innocent and guilty fare alike. Far be it from You. Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?’” (Genesis 18:23-25)
Parshat Vayera has two interesting episodes, each presenting a different ethical position to a moral dilemma, and each presenting the reader with a different portrait of God. The first deals with the threat of Sodom being eradicated, resulting in Abraham initiating a conversation with God, negotiating the safety of its inhabitants. In this scene Abraham is depicted as one who stands before God - he doesn’t prostrate himself. He doesn’t appear to be self effacing, obsequious, or servile, but confident and self assured in his position. The impression one gets is that Abraham’s ethical position, in principle, is acceptable to God, but the critical mass necessary to warrant his claim isn’t there. What becomes an acceptable number to save a city? When Abraham argues “will you sweep away the innocent along with the guilty” he really is making a statement against collective punishment and rejecting the rationale for collateral damage.
In this scenario God is depicted as One who is sympathetic with the issue at hand, a God that values morals and ethics. God is seen as transcendental, external, One who stands outside of time and history and is omnipotent. Since He stands outside of time and history He doesn’t have man’s sense of ethics and morals, since these are human qualities. Abraham is asking God to accept human norms, thus trying to remove the omnipotence, placing God into history.
The following episode, the Akeda is very different. Unlike Sodom, Abraham is servile and self effacing, reticent and willing to obey without an argument. All Abraham can say is “Hineini”, and passively accepts the command to slaughter his son, Isaac. Here God is presented in the total opposite image of the God in the story of Sodom. There He is involved. In the Akeda He is removed, estranged and not approachable. In Sodom, Abraham brings God down to accept the ethics of the mortals. In the Akeda, Abram doesn’t even try to bring God down and involved in history, but resigned to perform what is commanded of him.
Thus, there are two models of the God head presented in Vayera. The model presented in Sodom where God is willing to be involved in human history, adapting to man’s morals and ethical concerns, willing to meet man on man’s terms and dialogue wit him. The God of the Akeda is transcendental, omnipotent demanding more than He is ready to give.
Parshat Vayera has two interesting episodes, each presenting a different ethical position to a moral dilemma, and each presenting the reader with a different portrait of God. The first deals with the threat of Sodom being eradicated, resulting in Abraham initiating a conversation with God, negotiating the safety of its inhabitants. In this scene Abraham is depicted as one who stands before God - he doesn’t prostrate himself. He doesn’t appear to be self effacing, obsequious, or servile, but confident and self assured in his position. The impression one gets is that Abraham’s ethical position, in principle, is acceptable to God, but the critical mass necessary to warrant his claim isn’t there. What becomes an acceptable number to save a city? When Abraham argues “will you sweep away the innocent along with the guilty” he really is making a statement against collective punishment and rejecting the rationale for collateral damage.
In this scenario God is depicted as One who is sympathetic with the issue at hand, a God that values morals and ethics. God is seen as transcendental, external, One who stands outside of time and history and is omnipotent. Since He stands outside of time and history He doesn’t have man’s sense of ethics and morals, since these are human qualities. Abraham is asking God to accept human norms, thus trying to remove the omnipotence, placing God into history.
The following episode, the Akeda is very different. Unlike Sodom, Abraham is servile and self effacing, reticent and willing to obey without an argument. All Abraham can say is “Hineini”, and passively accepts the command to slaughter his son, Isaac. Here God is presented in the total opposite image of the God in the story of Sodom. There He is involved. In the Akeda He is removed, estranged and not approachable. In Sodom, Abraham brings God down to accept the ethics of the mortals. In the Akeda, Abram doesn’t even try to bring God down and involved in history, but resigned to perform what is commanded of him.
Thus, there are two models of the God head presented in Vayera. The model presented in Sodom where God is willing to be involved in human history, adapting to man’s morals and ethical concerns, willing to meet man on man’s terms and dialogue wit him. The God of the Akeda is transcendental, omnipotent demanding more than He is ready to give.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Bomba Israel
On a trip to Santiago, Chili a few weeks ago I had the privilege of spending time in the Jewish community. Part of that time was spent with a Jewish fire brigade called Bomba Israel. In Chile, the fire stations are strictly voluntary, a civic responsibility, which carries no wages, salaries, benefits or perks. In 1954, the Jewish community, wishing to express its appreciation to the Chilean people for welcoming them after the holocaust established their own fire brigade. Adorning the fire station, called Bomba Israel, and all their trucks is a Magen David and the flag of Israel. Those that man the station 24/7 are the Jewish youth who on a rotation serve as the primary first call responders not only for the Jewish community but wherever they are called.
Perplexing in all this is the demonstrable lack of religious practice (shemirat mitzvoth) by these brave and proud Jews. In taking note of their Jewish pride, loyalty to the Jewish community with one eye on their home community and the other glancing towards Israel I couldn’t help but be reminded of Yehuda Halevi’s take on the qualitative difference between the Covenant of the Pieces and the Covenant at Sinai (Horeb). Before getting into that it is interesting to note an Aggadic text in the Talmud.
Talmud Sanhedrin (98a) describes the “melech moshiach” arriving on a donkey. While there are those who understand this Aggadic text literally, there are those who treat it metaphorically. Harav Kook suggests that there is no reason to believe the donkey is kosher because externally it shows not the signs of a kosher animal. It doesn’t chew its cud nor does it have split hoofs as opposed to the pig that has at least one external sign to qualify it – split hoofs. However Kook maintains that while the donkey doesn’t possess the external features to render it kosher it has an internal, non identifiable holiness and for this reason the Bible (Exodus 13:13) commands that of all the forbidden animals, only the donkey is obligated with the mitzvah of Bechor, the first born. For Harav kook, the donkey is a metaphor for the non practicing Jew, but demonstrates a highly developed sensitivity to the concept of Jewish peoplehood.
Yehuda Halevi too, with his highly developed sense of peoplehood underscored this quality as central to the Jewish people. When put to the task of choosing which was more important, the Covenant of the Pieces or the Sinaitic Covenant he rendered the Covenant of the Pieces to be the locus. He reasoned that there are two types of kedusha; the external (chizoni) and the internal (penimi). The Covenant of the Pieces was an internal kedusha, fundamental and essential to the very essence of the Jew. It’s his matrix, his DNA, without which one cannot be Jewish. The Covenant of Pieces provides the connection, the electrical contact between the Jew and his people. It is the coding that allows the Jews to communicate with one another in a way distinct from all other people; whereas, the Sinaitic Covenant is external. The mitzvoth presented at Sinai are external dressing; if they aren’t scrupulously observed the cohesion of the Jewish people is still in tact and guaranteed by the internal coding. This is not to diminish the value of mitzvoth, but they aren’t necessarily essential to the continuation of peoplehood. Halevi went so far as to venture the following: A non observant but nationalistic Jew with an eye to Zion is more substantial than a Jew who is compulsive in mitvot observance, but doesn’t identify with the corpus of the Jewish people.
These were the thoughts running through my mind when visiting the non religious Chilean youth while on duty at Bomba Israel, Santiago, Chili.
Perplexing in all this is the demonstrable lack of religious practice (shemirat mitzvoth) by these brave and proud Jews. In taking note of their Jewish pride, loyalty to the Jewish community with one eye on their home community and the other glancing towards Israel I couldn’t help but be reminded of Yehuda Halevi’s take on the qualitative difference between the Covenant of the Pieces and the Covenant at Sinai (Horeb). Before getting into that it is interesting to note an Aggadic text in the Talmud.
Talmud Sanhedrin (98a) describes the “melech moshiach” arriving on a donkey. While there are those who understand this Aggadic text literally, there are those who treat it metaphorically. Harav Kook suggests that there is no reason to believe the donkey is kosher because externally it shows not the signs of a kosher animal. It doesn’t chew its cud nor does it have split hoofs as opposed to the pig that has at least one external sign to qualify it – split hoofs. However Kook maintains that while the donkey doesn’t possess the external features to render it kosher it has an internal, non identifiable holiness and for this reason the Bible (Exodus 13:13) commands that of all the forbidden animals, only the donkey is obligated with the mitzvah of Bechor, the first born. For Harav kook, the donkey is a metaphor for the non practicing Jew, but demonstrates a highly developed sensitivity to the concept of Jewish peoplehood.
Yehuda Halevi too, with his highly developed sense of peoplehood underscored this quality as central to the Jewish people. When put to the task of choosing which was more important, the Covenant of the Pieces or the Sinaitic Covenant he rendered the Covenant of the Pieces to be the locus. He reasoned that there are two types of kedusha; the external (chizoni) and the internal (penimi). The Covenant of the Pieces was an internal kedusha, fundamental and essential to the very essence of the Jew. It’s his matrix, his DNA, without which one cannot be Jewish. The Covenant of Pieces provides the connection, the electrical contact between the Jew and his people. It is the coding that allows the Jews to communicate with one another in a way distinct from all other people; whereas, the Sinaitic Covenant is external. The mitzvoth presented at Sinai are external dressing; if they aren’t scrupulously observed the cohesion of the Jewish people is still in tact and guaranteed by the internal coding. This is not to diminish the value of mitzvoth, but they aren’t necessarily essential to the continuation of peoplehood. Halevi went so far as to venture the following: A non observant but nationalistic Jew with an eye to Zion is more substantial than a Jew who is compulsive in mitvot observance, but doesn’t identify with the corpus of the Jewish people.
These were the thoughts running through my mind when visiting the non religious Chilean youth while on duty at Bomba Israel, Santiago, Chili.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
A Muse: Lech Lecha 2008
“And he said ‘O Lord God how shall I know that I am to possess it? He answered bring me a three year old heifer, a three year old she goat, a three year old ram a turtle dove and a young bird.’ He brought Him all these and cut them into two, placing each half opposite the other, but he did not cut up the bird…” (Genesis 15: 8-10)
Hitherto we have understood Avraham to be a believer, a man of faith, not asking God for signs and proofs of His intentions, so why does he now ask God for a sign or proof? Prior to the Covenant of the Pieces, Avraham sees himself in a unique and personal relationship with God and understands this relationship to be contractual. Whatever God demands of him he will do, and by so doing God will be true to Avraham. All Avraham has to do is live up to his side of the contract. However with the onset of the Covenant of the Pieces the relationship is no longer between God and Avraham, but also added into the equation is the progeny of Avraham. While Avraham can assure his own loyalty how can he assure the fealty of those who haven’t even been born yet? It’s at this intersection that the relationship has changed. It is no longer defined as a contractual relationship but rather a covenantal relationship.
This covenant focuses on our national roots as a people, as a nation. All those who emanate from Avraham are to be considered one family, one extended family evolving into a tribe and ultimately into nationhood. The Covenant of Pieces is buttressed with another covenant that was made at Horeb, at Sinai, but its dimension is spiritual/religious. The Covenant at Sinai places flesh on the structure effected through the Covenant of the Pieces, in that we are bound to each other as a people even when not in Israel, even when there was no Israel.
The question that has evolved over the centuries is which of these two covenants are more central to the Jewish people and has been debated by some of the greats. Harav Avraham Isaac Hacohen Kook and Harav Joseph Ber Soloveitchik represent two of the greatest 20th century minds to grapple with this issue.
Soloveitchik believes that the Covenat made with Avraham is our destiny, with no choice left to the individual, the Brit Milah symbolizing this. If the Covenant of Avraham is our destiny then the Covenant at Sinai is our choice, and thus the central one. We accept it upon ourselves and by doing so we become “bnei mitzvah”, thus altering destiny into challenges and purposefulness. Kook, on the other hand believes that the central covenant is the Covenant of Avraham. This is the internal covenant and can’t be broken. The covenant at Sinai being external can be broken.
These two positions reflect the classic difference of opinion between Maimonides and Yehuda Halevi, which will be presented later.
Hitherto we have understood Avraham to be a believer, a man of faith, not asking God for signs and proofs of His intentions, so why does he now ask God for a sign or proof? Prior to the Covenant of the Pieces, Avraham sees himself in a unique and personal relationship with God and understands this relationship to be contractual. Whatever God demands of him he will do, and by so doing God will be true to Avraham. All Avraham has to do is live up to his side of the contract. However with the onset of the Covenant of the Pieces the relationship is no longer between God and Avraham, but also added into the equation is the progeny of Avraham. While Avraham can assure his own loyalty how can he assure the fealty of those who haven’t even been born yet? It’s at this intersection that the relationship has changed. It is no longer defined as a contractual relationship but rather a covenantal relationship.
This covenant focuses on our national roots as a people, as a nation. All those who emanate from Avraham are to be considered one family, one extended family evolving into a tribe and ultimately into nationhood. The Covenant of Pieces is buttressed with another covenant that was made at Horeb, at Sinai, but its dimension is spiritual/religious. The Covenant at Sinai places flesh on the structure effected through the Covenant of the Pieces, in that we are bound to each other as a people even when not in Israel, even when there was no Israel.
The question that has evolved over the centuries is which of these two covenants are more central to the Jewish people and has been debated by some of the greats. Harav Avraham Isaac Hacohen Kook and Harav Joseph Ber Soloveitchik represent two of the greatest 20th century minds to grapple with this issue.
Soloveitchik believes that the Covenat made with Avraham is our destiny, with no choice left to the individual, the Brit Milah symbolizing this. If the Covenant of Avraham is our destiny then the Covenant at Sinai is our choice, and thus the central one. We accept it upon ourselves and by doing so we become “bnei mitzvah”, thus altering destiny into challenges and purposefulness. Kook, on the other hand believes that the central covenant is the Covenant of Avraham. This is the internal covenant and can’t be broken. The covenant at Sinai being external can be broken.
These two positions reflect the classic difference of opinion between Maimonides and Yehuda Halevi, which will be presented later.
Monday, October 27, 2008
A Muse: Noah 2008
“Noah, the tiller of the soil, was the first to plant a vineyard. He drank of the wine and became drunk, and he uncovered himself within his tent. Ham, the father of Canaan, saw his father’s nakedness and told his two brothers outside. But Shem and Japheth took a cloth, placed it against both their backs and, walking backwards, they covered their father’s nakedness; their faces were turned the other way, so that they didn’t see their father’s nakedness. When Noah woke up from his wine and learned what his youngest son had done to him, he said, ‘cursed be Canaan; the lowest slaves shall he be to his brothers.’” (Genesis 9: 20-25)
Reading this intriguing text one can’t help but wonder what really did happen between Noah and Ham, when Noah laid in his tent drunk? What did Ham do to deserve such a damning curse? From a superficial review of the text it appears that Ham not only saw his father’s nakedness, but that instead of covering him, he went out and told his brothers of the sorry state of their father.
This standard reading of the text is problematic because rather than answer the question it raises an additional one. If Ham’s sin was that he didn’t respond quickly enough in covering his father than why does verse 24 read “when Noah woke up from his wine and learned what his youngest son had done to him”? Why is there an emphasis on discovering what Ham did to Noah?
There is an interesting relationship between the story of the Flood and the incident in Sodom. Prior to the flood the text (Genesis 6: 5-7) relates that the “bnei elohim” were engaging in “deviant” sex with the daughters of humankind, (male on female). Prior to the incident of Sodom men were desirous of engaging the angels in “deviant” sex, (male on male) as well. After the flood there was a relationship between Noah and Ham (male on male); after Sodom there was too, a relationship between Lot and his two daughters (women on man). The analogy goes further. At the conclusion of the Deluge Noah becomes willfully inebriated, but at the conclusion of the Sodom episode, the daughters get their father drunk. Noah understood what ham did to him, but Lot has no idea. Because Noah knows, he curses Canaan, the son of Ham, but Lot not knowing what had occurred, doesn’t curse his daughter’s progeny. (Midrash Rabbah suggests that Lot knew what his eldest daughter had done and didn’t take steps to prevent a similar incident with his youngest daughter the following night.)
Midrash struggled with how to best present the perverse relationship between Noah and Ham, and so there are three alternative versions of what happened, ultimately the third version became the most acceptable: In the first version, midrash suggests that Ham castrated his father in order to insure that the inheritance will be split three ways instead of four ways or more. Our tradition had a difficult time with this version because it didn’t fit the image that the text had tried to create about Noah being an “ish tzaddik”, the righteous man of his generation. Being the righteous man of his generation he deserved better, so this version was replaced with one less ominous. In the second version Ham sodomized his father, which may be plausible in light of the biblical story of Lot and his daughters. Still, Noah, being the righteous man that he was, was deserving of better treatment and so the third version is the one that our sages were most comfortable with. This third and final version suggests that Ham saw his father’s nakedness, but was slow in reacting appropriately. Because our sages saw the entire episode as unfortunate and perhaps even bazaar they sought to adopt a veiled and vague version of what may have happened.
The obvious question that we ought to be raising is if it was such a disagreeable event why not censor it completely and excise it from our Masorah. Our tradition may have considered this option but reconsidered because with the convenience of Noah’s curse the sages were able to rationalize Israel’s conquering of Canaan centuries later.
Reading this intriguing text one can’t help but wonder what really did happen between Noah and Ham, when Noah laid in his tent drunk? What did Ham do to deserve such a damning curse? From a superficial review of the text it appears that Ham not only saw his father’s nakedness, but that instead of covering him, he went out and told his brothers of the sorry state of their father.
This standard reading of the text is problematic because rather than answer the question it raises an additional one. If Ham’s sin was that he didn’t respond quickly enough in covering his father than why does verse 24 read “when Noah woke up from his wine and learned what his youngest son had done to him”? Why is there an emphasis on discovering what Ham did to Noah?
There is an interesting relationship between the story of the Flood and the incident in Sodom. Prior to the flood the text (Genesis 6: 5-7) relates that the “bnei elohim” were engaging in “deviant” sex with the daughters of humankind, (male on female). Prior to the incident of Sodom men were desirous of engaging the angels in “deviant” sex, (male on male) as well. After the flood there was a relationship between Noah and Ham (male on male); after Sodom there was too, a relationship between Lot and his two daughters (women on man). The analogy goes further. At the conclusion of the Deluge Noah becomes willfully inebriated, but at the conclusion of the Sodom episode, the daughters get their father drunk. Noah understood what ham did to him, but Lot has no idea. Because Noah knows, he curses Canaan, the son of Ham, but Lot not knowing what had occurred, doesn’t curse his daughter’s progeny. (Midrash Rabbah suggests that Lot knew what his eldest daughter had done and didn’t take steps to prevent a similar incident with his youngest daughter the following night.)
Midrash struggled with how to best present the perverse relationship between Noah and Ham, and so there are three alternative versions of what happened, ultimately the third version became the most acceptable: In the first version, midrash suggests that Ham castrated his father in order to insure that the inheritance will be split three ways instead of four ways or more. Our tradition had a difficult time with this version because it didn’t fit the image that the text had tried to create about Noah being an “ish tzaddik”, the righteous man of his generation. Being the righteous man of his generation he deserved better, so this version was replaced with one less ominous. In the second version Ham sodomized his father, which may be plausible in light of the biblical story of Lot and his daughters. Still, Noah, being the righteous man that he was, was deserving of better treatment and so the third version is the one that our sages were most comfortable with. This third and final version suggests that Ham saw his father’s nakedness, but was slow in reacting appropriately. Because our sages saw the entire episode as unfortunate and perhaps even bazaar they sought to adopt a veiled and vague version of what may have happened.
The obvious question that we ought to be raising is if it was such a disagreeable event why not censor it completely and excise it from our Masorah. Our tradition may have considered this option but reconsidered because with the convenience of Noah’s curse the sages were able to rationalize Israel’s conquering of Canaan centuries later.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Lemon and the Left
Recently I attended the International Film Festival in Chicago and viewed an Israeli film entitled “The Lemon Tree”. (Not recommended.) I also just returned from Santiago, Chili where, among other things I visited the home of the late socialist, intellectual and statesman, Pablo Neruda. Both events, although ostensibly unrelated and separated by two weeks, impacted on me greatly, especially now during this election season.
Frankly, for the past several months, ever since the election season began to heat up I’ve been struggling with my conscience. For me, a capitalist and one deeply passionate about Israel’s future, McCain seems to be the logical candidate, as Bush appeared to be when he ran against Gore and Kerry in 2000 and 2004. One can never know how things would be today had Gore or Kerry been elected, and no one is satisfied with the current state of affairs. On the other hand, Obama apart from his charisma and gifted articulation happens to be exceptionally bright, promising change and offering hope for a better future.
And so I struggle and waffle between the two candidates. McCain is assuring in that his record, experience and commitment to American ideals gives me a level of comfort that Israel is won’t be “sold down the river”. He is also a capitalist and certainly doesn’t believe in a redistribution of wealth. Obama on the other hand, while young, bright and charismatic hasn’t convinced me of his commitment to Israel. He is also a social democrat influenced and bedazzled by the European model and believes in a redistribution of wealth. But he is so, so bright that I want to believe that he knows what’s best and will lead us out of the current chaos that we find ourselves in.
Because of my commitment to Israel, and my sense of capitalism, it would seem a foregone conclusion that McCain would be my candidate of choice. However, by voting McCain and aligning with the Conservative Right I am somehow resisting an impulse deep, deep in my soul that reminds me of the need to listen to our great prophets of social justice like Isaiah and Amos, to name just a few. Their deep and abiding concern was the welfare of the poor, those on the margins who for whatever reason didn’t manage to live with the dignity so very basic to every human being. By voting McCain do I ignore the teachings of our prophets? Or, to put it another way, will voting for Obama align me with the teachings and underpinnings that made Judaism timely, throughout the ages?
Visiting the home of Neruda put this into partial focus. His passion for socialism was overpowering. Those with whom he associated, his prose, poetry and service to his country were awesome and inspiring. Understanding Neruda within the context of his people’s struggle gave me a greater appreciation for Obama’s message. But what about Israel?
Like so many of us, Israel is a burning passion which influences not only what I think, but what I do. So how could I possibly vote for Obama not being convinced that he has the best interests of Israel at heart? On the other hand, viewing the Israel film “Lemon Tree” caused me to reconsider the place Israel has occupied in those decisions which might impact on her future. The PLO couldn’t have produced such an effective piece of propaganda. If Israel could submit a self hating propaganda piece as “the Lemon Tree” to the world to watch as entertainment at her own expense, then why should I filter my politics through the prism of Zionism?
Perhaps I ought to cast my lot with the “Rabbis for Obama” and align with the Jewish liberal community who see their choice through the lens of our socially conscious prophets who cried out for social justice and compassion for those with less.
If it were only that simple. There is this small voice within me that won’t let me cast that vote without a struggle with my conscience. But does it really matter how I vote? Here in Illinois it is a foregone conclusion anyway!
Frankly, for the past several months, ever since the election season began to heat up I’ve been struggling with my conscience. For me, a capitalist and one deeply passionate about Israel’s future, McCain seems to be the logical candidate, as Bush appeared to be when he ran against Gore and Kerry in 2000 and 2004. One can never know how things would be today had Gore or Kerry been elected, and no one is satisfied with the current state of affairs. On the other hand, Obama apart from his charisma and gifted articulation happens to be exceptionally bright, promising change and offering hope for a better future.
And so I struggle and waffle between the two candidates. McCain is assuring in that his record, experience and commitment to American ideals gives me a level of comfort that Israel is won’t be “sold down the river”. He is also a capitalist and certainly doesn’t believe in a redistribution of wealth. Obama on the other hand, while young, bright and charismatic hasn’t convinced me of his commitment to Israel. He is also a social democrat influenced and bedazzled by the European model and believes in a redistribution of wealth. But he is so, so bright that I want to believe that he knows what’s best and will lead us out of the current chaos that we find ourselves in.
Because of my commitment to Israel, and my sense of capitalism, it would seem a foregone conclusion that McCain would be my candidate of choice. However, by voting McCain and aligning with the Conservative Right I am somehow resisting an impulse deep, deep in my soul that reminds me of the need to listen to our great prophets of social justice like Isaiah and Amos, to name just a few. Their deep and abiding concern was the welfare of the poor, those on the margins who for whatever reason didn’t manage to live with the dignity so very basic to every human being. By voting McCain do I ignore the teachings of our prophets? Or, to put it another way, will voting for Obama align me with the teachings and underpinnings that made Judaism timely, throughout the ages?
Visiting the home of Neruda put this into partial focus. His passion for socialism was overpowering. Those with whom he associated, his prose, poetry and service to his country were awesome and inspiring. Understanding Neruda within the context of his people’s struggle gave me a greater appreciation for Obama’s message. But what about Israel?
Like so many of us, Israel is a burning passion which influences not only what I think, but what I do. So how could I possibly vote for Obama not being convinced that he has the best interests of Israel at heart? On the other hand, viewing the Israel film “Lemon Tree” caused me to reconsider the place Israel has occupied in those decisions which might impact on her future. The PLO couldn’t have produced such an effective piece of propaganda. If Israel could submit a self hating propaganda piece as “the Lemon Tree” to the world to watch as entertainment at her own expense, then why should I filter my politics through the prism of Zionism?
Perhaps I ought to cast my lot with the “Rabbis for Obama” and align with the Jewish liberal community who see their choice through the lens of our socially conscious prophets who cried out for social justice and compassion for those with less.
If it were only that simple. There is this small voice within me that won’t let me cast that vote without a struggle with my conscience. But does it really matter how I vote? Here in Illinois it is a foregone conclusion anyway!
Monday, October 20, 2008
A Muse: B'reishit 2008
“Surely if you do right there is uplift, but if you do not do right sin couches at the door; its urge is toward you, you can be its master. Cain said to his brother Abel…and when they were in the field, Cain set upon his brother Abel and killed him.” (Genesis 4:7-8)
Many of our commentaries have indicated concern with the punishment Cain received. In murdering Abel, Cain’s punishment is to roam the earth with the mark of Cain on him. These commentaries ask why wasn’t he killed. Certainly this would have been in keeping with the ethos of the biblical text that says “whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed” (Genesis 9:6).
When dealing with the episode of Cain and Abel another question comes to mind. How is it that Cain was placed in this predicament in the first place? God, by electing to prefer one sacrifice to another set the sage by which jealousy and the cycle of vengeance would be put into motion. In choosing one gift to another God has presented to Cain the need to choose also and decide how to deal with the insult. How would his relationship with his brother now be defined and what would be his relationship with God?
The dilemma suggested in this text isn’t dissimilar to the story of Adam and Eve. By placing before them the temptation of eating from the forbidden, they were paced in a situation of making a choice that would forever impact on their relationship to each other and their relationship with God. In both cases, the outcomes suggest that their relationship with each other have been altered forever and their relationship with God is in need of repair.
The text apart from raising these questions teaches us a lesson. The text suggests that Cain reacted impulsively when killing Abel. God chose to punish him severely but not so harshly as to have him killed. By so doing God reveals that humankind is capable of rehabilitation, even when guilty of murder.
Many of our commentaries have indicated concern with the punishment Cain received. In murdering Abel, Cain’s punishment is to roam the earth with the mark of Cain on him. These commentaries ask why wasn’t he killed. Certainly this would have been in keeping with the ethos of the biblical text that says “whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed” (Genesis 9:6).
When dealing with the episode of Cain and Abel another question comes to mind. How is it that Cain was placed in this predicament in the first place? God, by electing to prefer one sacrifice to another set the sage by which jealousy and the cycle of vengeance would be put into motion. In choosing one gift to another God has presented to Cain the need to choose also and decide how to deal with the insult. How would his relationship with his brother now be defined and what would be his relationship with God?
The dilemma suggested in this text isn’t dissimilar to the story of Adam and Eve. By placing before them the temptation of eating from the forbidden, they were paced in a situation of making a choice that would forever impact on their relationship to each other and their relationship with God. In both cases, the outcomes suggest that their relationship with each other have been altered forever and their relationship with God is in need of repair.
The text apart from raising these questions teaches us a lesson. The text suggests that Cain reacted impulsively when killing Abel. God chose to punish him severely but not so harshly as to have him killed. By so doing God reveals that humankind is capable of rehabilitation, even when guilty of murder.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Outsourcing Shechita
On September Agudath Israel issued a statement in which it dismissed the Hechsher Tzedek of the Conservative Movement for two principle reasons:
• The Conservative Movement isn’t a “halacha respecting” movement and are attempting a redefinition of kashrut. In addition most of their members do not even keep kosher.
• Halachic tradition defines kashrut as relating to the ritual suitability of food and has nothing to do with ethics. Issues regarding the treatment of employees, safe standards, working conditions, etc. is relegated to “dina d’malchta dina”.
Neither of these reasons, however are weighty enough however to negate the potential power and strength of the Hechsher Tzedek.
The first argument isn’t worthy of responding to because it insults the integrity of the Conservative Movement, its leadership, rabbis, schools and devoted communities in America and Israel. Their rabbis and leadership are devoted to halachic standards. The fact that their interpretation may be different than an orthodox interpretation doesn’t mean that they don’t subscribe to halachic standards. Normative Judaism has always supported minority opinions with alternative interpretations. One just has to understand the Shulchan Aruch and the ongoing opinion differences between the mechaber and the Ramah, is but one example.
Agudath Israel claims that by introducing the Hechsher Tzedek there is an attempt at redefining what kosher is and what it means. Truth be told, halacha, even according to conservative standards has been organic and expanding as community needs change and grow. Halacha is nothing, if it doesn’t meet the challenges of those whom it claims to serve. Moreover by introducing the Hechsher Tzedek, a new definition of kosher isn’t being asserted, it is just identifying an area of weakness. This has been employed by the orthodox supervising agencies over the years. One example of this that comes to mind is the threat to remove a hechsher, if an institution does something deemed inappropriate or not in the spirit of normative orthodox behavior. For a hotel in Israel to publicly sponsor a New Years Eve party jeopardizes their kashrut certification. Based upon Agudath Israel’s declaration this ought to be considered inconsistent, since having a New Years’ eve party has nothing to do with the “ritual suitability” of the food.
Rather than condition the continued hechsher on ethical standards they rely upon “dina d’malchta dina”, the law of the kingdom is the law, which is disingenuous. According to that logic there ought not to be unions because the law of the kingdom is the law. Obviously, the “law” doesn’t cover every contingency and thus the need for unions to protect employees. The conundrum is that Agriprocessors wouldn’t allow union organizing, so that the workers would have the protection where the law falls short. To make matters worse, Agriprocessors employed labor lawyers to fight the union organizers and thus depress further the plight of the workers. “Dina d’malchta dina’s” application works when the intent is genuine. However when a Jewish organization is intent on evading the principles supported by “dina d’malchta dina” then there is need for an oversight halachic agency such as Hechsher Tzedek.
For the sake of argument would halachic agencies allow for the exploitation of underage children if the law of the land allowed it? Would Agriprocessors outsource its slaughter houses to Asian countries where labor is cheap and absent of child labor laws by hiding behind “dina d’malchta dina”?
• The Conservative Movement isn’t a “halacha respecting” movement and are attempting a redefinition of kashrut. In addition most of their members do not even keep kosher.
• Halachic tradition defines kashrut as relating to the ritual suitability of food and has nothing to do with ethics. Issues regarding the treatment of employees, safe standards, working conditions, etc. is relegated to “dina d’malchta dina”.
Neither of these reasons, however are weighty enough however to negate the potential power and strength of the Hechsher Tzedek.
The first argument isn’t worthy of responding to because it insults the integrity of the Conservative Movement, its leadership, rabbis, schools and devoted communities in America and Israel. Their rabbis and leadership are devoted to halachic standards. The fact that their interpretation may be different than an orthodox interpretation doesn’t mean that they don’t subscribe to halachic standards. Normative Judaism has always supported minority opinions with alternative interpretations. One just has to understand the Shulchan Aruch and the ongoing opinion differences between the mechaber and the Ramah, is but one example.
Agudath Israel claims that by introducing the Hechsher Tzedek there is an attempt at redefining what kosher is and what it means. Truth be told, halacha, even according to conservative standards has been organic and expanding as community needs change and grow. Halacha is nothing, if it doesn’t meet the challenges of those whom it claims to serve. Moreover by introducing the Hechsher Tzedek, a new definition of kosher isn’t being asserted, it is just identifying an area of weakness. This has been employed by the orthodox supervising agencies over the years. One example of this that comes to mind is the threat to remove a hechsher, if an institution does something deemed inappropriate or not in the spirit of normative orthodox behavior. For a hotel in Israel to publicly sponsor a New Years Eve party jeopardizes their kashrut certification. Based upon Agudath Israel’s declaration this ought to be considered inconsistent, since having a New Years’ eve party has nothing to do with the “ritual suitability” of the food.
Rather than condition the continued hechsher on ethical standards they rely upon “dina d’malchta dina”, the law of the kingdom is the law, which is disingenuous. According to that logic there ought not to be unions because the law of the kingdom is the law. Obviously, the “law” doesn’t cover every contingency and thus the need for unions to protect employees. The conundrum is that Agriprocessors wouldn’t allow union organizing, so that the workers would have the protection where the law falls short. To make matters worse, Agriprocessors employed labor lawyers to fight the union organizers and thus depress further the plight of the workers. “Dina d’malchta dina’s” application works when the intent is genuine. However when a Jewish organization is intent on evading the principles supported by “dina d’malchta dina” then there is need for an oversight halachic agency such as Hechsher Tzedek.
For the sake of argument would halachic agencies allow for the exploitation of underage children if the law of the land allowed it? Would Agriprocessors outsource its slaughter houses to Asian countries where labor is cheap and absent of child labor laws by hiding behind “dina d’malchta dina”?
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