Friday, March 28, 2008

One and Done

I have always liked to think of Judaism as a ladder, with a goal of always moving up. Each of the commandments is a step on the ladder meaning the ladder is very tall. But the point wasn't to be at the top of the ladder -- or in the middle or at the bottom -- just being on the ladder is what was important.

Its a good thing that Judaism is more like this than like the NCAA Tournament. The Ten Commandments would likely be the No. 1 - No. 4 Seeds. The rest of the commandments, like Kashrut, rituals of sacrifice and doing it on Shabbat, those would be the rest of the seeds. It would be pretty interesting and fun to see the current Mitzvah seedings.

Maybe this week, when Governor Spitzer was forced to resign after being busted paying for an "escort," Thou Shalt Not Commit Adultery would bring home a high seed. The commandments would have to duke it out.

The only problem is that if it was tournament-style instead of ladder-style it's "one-and-done." Win and move on, but sin and go home.

In the Parsha this week, Shmini, Aaron's two sons are helping their dad with the rituals. They decide to light an extra fire and are immediately killed on the spot. There was no loser bracket for them, no NIT tournament.

Later, Moses tells Aaron its not good to drink while on the job. So for this week, I'd imagine that would rule the Mitzvah power rankings.

Don't drink on the job. Similar to "don't shit where you eat." Important rules to know. Sometimes difficult to follow. But in our world at least, Governor Spitzer, Britney Spears, you and I, we all get second chances. Even Jerry Springer was able to reconfigure his life.

So for my final thought for the day, don't be intimidated by all the commandments, laws, stipulations and rabbinical debates found in Judaism. The beauty of it is that you win and go on, or lose and try again. It is said the righteous man gets knocked down eight times. But the important thing is that he gets up.

Apply to more than one grad school. Make a plan B. Ask out another girl (or boy).

And as the sages said, "Keep on Truckin."



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Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Vayikra: There Will Be Blood


At the conclusion of Exodus, we found the Israelites wandering through the Sinai with their newly-built Tabernacle. So far, it's been a tough ride out of Egypt, and the follies and tribulations of our desert ancestors are well documented in the annals of history. Having moved past the disaster of the Golden Calf, we begin the book of Leviticus - Vayikra - with the hope that things will get a little brighter.

Over the course of the next five chapters however, we learn that the beautiful Tabernacle was built to function as an altar to spill the blood of animals and sacrifice them to God. These sacrifices were instituted so the Israelites could atone for their sins. Not exactly a cheery portion this week.

It seems like Vayikra is obsessed with blood:
In fact, the word blood is mentioned at least 25 times in these five chapters. This Parsha raises some tough questions about ancient Judaism as well as the nature of God. Why is the Torah so concerned with spilling the blood of animals? Were the ancient Israelites a primitive, bloodthirsty people who cared nothing about living things? Why does God need blood to grant atonement?

Over the centuries, non-Jews have pointed to this Parsha to say that Judaism is not a religion based on morals and intellect, but on uneducated rituals. Indeed, it is very difficult -- if not impossible -- for our civilized, modern minds to understand the significance of animal sacrifices. Spirituality should be the key to reaching God, and the physical world should be bypassed completely to achieve salvation ... right?

Not for Jews. Holiness in Judaism means that the physical and spiritual join together; a bond between humankind and God. In the Torah, a place was consecrated as sacred only if something happened there between man on Earth and God in Heaven. We have to remember that we are human beings with human urges and human emotions, and we should not repress our humanness. The Torah understood this, at least in the most basic of ways, by emphasizing blood throughout this Parsha.

We simply cannot ignore the physical aspect of Jewish life and tradition. Despite the emotions and basic human needs that drive us and our behavior, it's blood that is running through our veins, and blood that keeps us alive and sustains us. When the Israelites saw the blood of the animals they were sacrificing, they were immediately reminded of their own mortality. These sacrifices were sin offerings, so instead of being punished with their own blood (except in cases of murder or other serious violations of the law), a person would sacrifice an animal to God. The twist comes in knowing that God does not need these sacrifices; they were more for the person who committed the sin to realize that they are still human.

We are not just body and not just soul, but a united being composed of both. Although Judaism has (thankfully) evolved beyond animal sacrifices, the physical human aspect of our religion is today just as important as the spiritual. We afflict our bodies on Yom Kippur, we can choose what to eat or not eat based on Jewish law, and we are commanded to pay attention to the body's needs. This Parsha reminds us that although it's not alright to sin before God, it's alright to be human. Lucky for us, we don't know how to be anything else.



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Friday, February 29, 2008

Vayakhel: An Exercise in Subtle Juxtaposition


There's really no good way to follow up The Brooklyn Boy's last post because it was so hella good, especially since I was at the NC Hillel Statewide where he first unearthed his penchant for rhymin' d'vars (and I was one of the enthusiastic minions; or was it minyans?). Well done, sir.

I'm not sure if you've ever read through this Parsha (Vayakhel; Exodus 35:1 - 38:20), but it's what I would call ... laborious. It starts off with Moses reminding the Jewish people, fresh off of the Golden Calf disaster, that God has commanded them to observe Shabbat or they will be put to death:
And Moses assembled all the congregation of the children of Israel, and said unto them: 'These are the words which HaShem hath commanded, that ye should do them. Six day shall work be done, but on the seventh day there shall be to you a holy day, a sabbath of solemn rest to HaShem; whosoever doeth any therein shall be put to death. Ye shall kindle no fire throughout your habitations upon the sabbath day. (Exodus 35:1-3)
Makes you wonder at which point in Jewish history they stopped putting people to death for not observing Shabbat ...

Then, suddenly, verse after verse for the next three chapters -- more than 100 verses total -- the Torah offers a step-by-step blueprint about how to build the Tabernacle, or Mishkan, the physical center for the ancient Jewish religion in the desert, all the way down to the details of the lengths and colors of the curtains, and the number of bars of acacia wood on each side. No one ever said the Torah read like a novel.

The stark juxtaposition of God's decree about the Jews observing Shabbat being paired with the description of how to build the Tabernacle is striking, and also intentional. If you read through the verses following the decree, it describes in detail the different tasks of how the Mishkan is to be built, and even who God thinks should build it. These tasks involve mundane activities like sewing, casting metals and cooking: all acts that involve the creation of something. And it's no small coincidence that these are the very acts that are forbidden on Shabbat.

The Tabernacle was built to give the Jewish people a physical "dwelling" place for God's presence. Centuries later, after the Israelites had conquered Canaan and established Jerusalem as their capital, the Mishkan was housed in the Temple, which would be the central place of ancient Jewish worship until its most recent destruction in 70 CE.

So here's the reason for the text's juxtaposition. During the workweek, the ancient Jews had a physical structure accompanying them in the desert to remind them of God's presence. Through the various "creative" activities described in the Parsha, they were given the task of actually building the Tabernacle, making those once-ordinary tasks holy.

Why then, on Shabbat, are those very same acts of creation forbidden? It's because on Shabbat, God rested from his creation of the Universe. Everything that it took to build God's desert house was halted on Shabbat in the Israelites' best effort to emulate God. We don't necessarily need to be around a structure that houses the Divine Presence because, on Shabbat, we are immersed in it. Different from the ancient sacrifices and rituals that could only be conducted near the Tabernacle or at the Temple in Jerusalem, Shabbat can be observed anywhere on Earth, and that's what makes it beautiful. Shabbat is the one time during the week where we as Jews can focus our spiritual energy and not create, but just be.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not going to be self-righteous here. I definitely create on Shabbat in the classical sense, as I'm sure many of us do. I'm a child of modern America, I work for a computer company and do weekend work sometimes, I play drums in two bands, and I love taking long Saturday morning drives.

Does this detract from my Shabbat experience? Maybe, if you're thinking solely on a traditionally Jewish level. I guess I don't need to do all of those things. But even if I stopped "creating" and unplugged, put the sticks down, and simply walked around the southern part of Heaven for a day, I don't think it would make a big difference for my personal experience. It's great to try every once in a while, and I have before. But for me, Shabbat is about the re-creation of the self, and working on bringing a sense of peace back to ourselves and to our broken world. And I say thank God for that.



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Friday, February 22, 2008

Ki Tisa -- High (In)Fidelity

This was first performed for 200 people at a Statewide Shabbat at NC Hillel, and caught the attention of a Rabbi who said it would really benefit bar mitzvah students if I did this for every portion in the Five Books, which indirectly led to the foundation of this site. Crazy. Also, I spit it at the "Twelve Tribes" Open Mic at National Poetry Slam 2007, where it went over like gangbusters. Enjoy.








All I ask is your attention as I command it,
Use spoken word and put pen to page
To outline for y'all a critical stage
In Jewish history and I won't be vague

I'll unravel the mystery locked in the Parsha
This week, Ki Tisa relates the state of Jews at Sinai
Who got confused when they looked at the sky
And could not comprehend what they could not see
So they committed an act of infidelity
And created a calf that repped visibly
A notion of God they could understand
And they did all of this
under Aaron's command

Because he conciliated while Moses terminated
Said, "I'll be back"
and 40 days deliberated in a conversation with God
who at the end said something odd:
He saw the calf, said, "You don't know the half
Of what your people are doing at the foot of the path.
They're really not fooling me with their charade.
I'm 'bout to regulate
cuz I just got played."

Moses said, "Hold up ...

It ain't the right thing to do
You love these people try not to undo
The work of the Exodus and give rise to
Undue attitudes about a God who rescued his people only to off 'em
And turned the whole desert into one sandy coffin."

So Moses bounced — to see for himself
What his people had done with their material wealth.
He got so mad he shattered the tablets
Ground up the calf and let all of them have it
Aaron got frantic and tried to lie his way out
By telling Moses the calf came about all on its own
But Moses saw through that, knew he should atone
For the sins of the people who should turn to stone
Like Lot's wife -- the REEE-MIIIX!!
And the Levites believed it
So they stepped forward toward God
And had to carry out a terrible job
See, 3,000 people lost their lives that day
Because they almost undermined the whole Jewish faith

And lessons were learned by all parties involved:
The people needed to see that all idols aren't God
And the man upstairs needed to be fair
And not expect people to believe in the air

So stop ...

... and take a look at what surrounds you at the moment
And don't just do it now, do it any time you can control it
Every person and thing, please try to own it
Because God's in all of that
now take that thought and hone it into tangible form
So you don't have to dance by a calf to keep warm.


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Thursday, February 21, 2008

Leaping Into February and March

Doc Driedel thought it might be a good idea to widen the audience of my (roughly) monthly calls for contributors beyond the scope of the e-mail list. Check below for the info, and email me if you're interested.

Since my job has been whupping my butt for the better part of three weeks -- including swallowing this whole weekend -- you got two whole weeks with 100 percent less harassment. Here's what's been going on at the Hole:
  • We were linked by the Union for Reform Judaism's Shabbat Blog, which recommended us as one of three sites to visit "to fulfill the mitzvah of Talmud Torah, the study of Torah." You are not writing in a vacuum -- people are reading; we average more than 70 hits per week, have 7 feed subscriptions and 17 fans on Facebook.
  • We took our first guest post from a board-certified Rabbi. (Thanks, "Rabbi V"!)
  • We caught knowledge from repeat contributors "Dropping the Baum," "Dr. Driedel," "Flower," "The Tar Heeb" and also yer favorite Brooklyn Boy. The "Baum Drop" analyzed Moses' demand that Pharoah "Let My People Bo." The Tar Heeb wondered about "The World Without Us," while Flower took a look at "The Laws of Love," and I decided Moses and Aaron originated the roles MJ and Scottie Pippen would fill many thousands of years later.

    But a special shout out goes to the good doctor, whose search for "The Leaders in Our Lives" took us through a brave, thoughtful tribute to a friend whose journey ended too early. Thanks for sharing, good sir.

    That post accomplishes everything we strive for here at the Hole, and proves that the text is merely a jumping off point for larger issues -- not something those of you on the fence should worry about being bogged down by should you choose to contribute.
  • Also, we missed a week because a writer dropped out late and I was too pre-occupied to cover. We've done a great job getting up one post nearly every week since our relaunch in October -- Yeah, it's like that. Seriously stellar job. All of you. -- but this is why I'd like to get to a point where there's more than one post per portion.Again, it's a numbers game. One contribution from every person means no one writes more than once every two months or so.

    I don't want to lose the momentum we've built. We've got something unique here, one that fills an unaccounted-for niche. Let's make the magic happen.
  • One great idea from my buddy Johnny Poo was the posting of bar/bat mitzvah speeches when the respective portion comes up. If you can turn yours up, that would be an easy way to get involved. Remember, the alias system is there not only to free you from expectations, but also save you from potential embarrassment. And believe you me, I have been looking for mine since he floated the idea. Luckily, I've got until Deuteronomy, ha.
Here's the upcoming schedule:

February

Ki Tisa (Exodus 30:11-34:35; Deadline: Feb. 20)
--Me, with a spoken word joint about the Golden Calf
NOTE: Ten Commandments also covered here, if anyone wants to tackle that last second, ha.

Vayakehl (Ex. 35:1-38:20; Deadline: Feb. 27)
Community donation of materials, and construction of the Holy Tabernacle and related furnishings

March

Pekudei (Ex. 38:21–40:38; Deadline: March 5)
Creation of the Priestly Vestements, the blessing of new priests and the Jews set off on their

Vayikra (Leviticus 1:1–5:26; Deadline: March 12)
Rules for acceptable offerings and how to absolve sins (Don't stop snitching!)

Tzav (Lev. 6:1–8:36; Deadline: March 19)
Rituals for offerings, commandment against eating animal fat, consecration of the Tabernacle and the priests

Shimini (Lev. 9:1–11:47; Deadline: March 26)
Sacrifice on behalf of the people, the rebellion of Aaron's sons, the rules of Kashrut (Kosher law)

April

Tazria (Lev. 12:1–13:59; Deadline: Apr. 2)
Purification rituals and how to deal with medical afflictions



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Thursday, February 14, 2008

Shrinking the Self (Tetzaveh)

So while this project started -- and will continue to be -- alternative commentary for and from 20-somethings, we're not going to turn down a more ... mature voice when they have a relevant contribution. One such voice is that a mentor of mine, Rabbi V, who presided over my temple during this Brooklyn Boy's formative high school years, and a wee bit before that.

She's socially active, interesting and -- most importantly -- encouraging. She's the one who got me to understand that thinking is everything, and while the text certainly is holy, it should serve as the foundation for that greatest of Jewish traditions: Debate. Wrestle with the important issues until they make sense to you. Not agreeing is okay, but have a basis for your position. That said, here's her take on Parsha
Tetzaveh:

Imagine how incredible Aaron, the High Priest, looked decked out in jewels of every color, golden armor, jingly bells on his hem and a zany headdress -- what a contrast to the burnt umber, barren landscape of the Sinai desert! Now imagine how sweltering he would have been in that outfit. Although we know the names of these cohanim -- Aaron, Nadav, Avihu, Elazar and Itamar, the institution of the priesthood pretty much obliterates their personalities. The office consumes the individual. Their clothing almost literally swallows them.

This could be a drag for the cohanim as individuals: In Parashat Shemini in Leviticus 10, Nadav and Avihu attempt to defy the rules and just be themselves. As a result, God hurls a giant fireball at them and they die instantly. But it was of great benefit to the Jews. The loss of human personality through these garments allowed the priests to be seen as celebrities. However, they were not celebrities for themselves or by their own merit -- they were celebrities because they represented all the people.

The clothing was a key to how the priests were celebrities for the people. Obviously, the bright colors were conspicuous, so when the cohanim stood before the masses, even from far away there would be no mistaking the guy in the golden breastplate. The clothing was highly symbolic. On each shoulder, Aaron wore a lapis lazuli stone on which the names of each of the twelve tribes were engraved. So all the regular people felt that they were integral to the rituals Aaron performed. Aaron, the High Priest, metaphorically carried the people on his shoulders. Having the name of their tribe on his garments was like having your sporting team or alma mater on the hat or jersey of the President. You feel validated. Less like a chump for belonging to the smallest tribe or rooting for the Cubs.

The gemstones on the breastplate had a similar function. Twelve dazzling jewels, each representing a tribe, shone from the silver breastplate during the rituals. Every tribe, and thus every member of the twelve tribes was included. When you looked at the Cohen Gadol, you knew he alone was the High Priest, but you got the sense that he was your man and that you were important in everything he did.

That the individual men who were cohanim had to check their personal identity at the door when they got into their garments meant the priests had to do some serious tzimtzum. Tzimtzum is a Hebrew term meaning shrinking oneself to allow others to grow in importance. Kabbalistic theology of the creation of the universe uses the term tzimtzum to describe how God once filled the universe, but shrank to a tiny point to allow space for the stuff of the universe to fit. Then God radiated the divine self into matter.

The cohanim also had to shrink themselves to some degree – to lose their personalities in order to leave space for all the people to gain a sense of participation and ownership of the rituals. The clothes helped the cohanim cloak their own authority, and as a result they became paradoxically more powerful because the masses bought into the new rituals instead of rejecting them and the priests as elitists know-it-alls. In a 1944 utopian piece called “After The War” novelist and essayist Henry Miller wrote that in a new era humans will realize that they can no longer hoard power: “His aim will not be to possess power, but to radiate it.” This may have been God’s goal for the priests in designing these outfits -- to radiate power outward and let all the people own some piece of power.

Last week, millions of voters went to the polls in the primary elections and caucuses to use their power of citizenship. The phenomenon of Barack Obama has been exciting to see, and interesting in light of the way that the cohanim radiated power. Obama has not tried to build a cult of personality, though he is personally popular. Instead his mode is a little bit of tzimtzum. He talks about the power of the people to make change, not just his own abilities. After Super Duper Tuesday, he spoke, saying, "We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek… We are the hope." Obama’s strength in connecting to and energizing an electorate comes not from possessing power, but in radiating it.

In the January 28, 2008 issue of the New Yorker, George Packer wrote about the differences between the celebrity of Hillary Clinton and of Barack Obama. The Obama celebrity is less personal, and more about his capacity to inspire others -- to make people believe they have power to make change. In the article, former Secretary of Labor (under Bill Clinton), Robert Reich defines the power of political inspiration as "the legitimizing of social movements and social change, the empowering of all sorts of people and groups to act as remarkable change agents."

One of the reasons that voters who really want change in this country (from cynicism to optimism at the very least) gravitate to Obama is because his candidacy suggests that we all hold a stake in change and all have the power to make change. Obama is not just running on a ticket of policy change, but on change in the process. He is running on the belief that regular Americans should not feel voiceless and excluded from democracy – elbowed out by powerful corporations or by Washington insiders.

One of the reasons the priesthood in the desert was embraced by the Israelites is that the ordinary people felt included in this radical new way of worshiping One God. The clothing of the priests assured them that the men in power were getting very little for themselves (mostly a lot of sweat, ashes and ram’s blood) and that the people as a whole were getting a lot. Tzimtzum may just be the only way to make lasting change. A person in power can fall, but a movement with a wide base can outlast the individual – even if the individual enjoys celebrity status.




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Friday, February 01, 2008

Big News!

We caught a link today from the Union for Reform Judaism's Shabbat Blog, which recommended us as one of three sites that expound upon the weekly Torah portion. They also included their own Reform Voices of Torah along with writer Stone Goodman, who produces topical prose and poetry.

Good look, URJ. And thanks to all the writers for producing such quality content week after week. You impress me anew every time. Onward and upward!



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Mishpatim: The Laws of Love


In the weeks before Valentine’s Day (I know, I know -- St. Valentine, not a Jew) and in contemplating my upcoming engagement, I’ve been thinking more and more about relationships, about love, and rules we follow for how we treat each other. Did you know that there is an increase in domestic violence on Super Bowl Sunday?

According to a study done by Indiana University, an average of 244 additional cases of domestic violence occur on Super Sunday. Even at times when the emphasis should be on love, people revert to the raw emotion of anger, and its spawn, violence. Throughout this Parsha I read words traditionally translated as referring to violence, here offered as guidance when someone wrongs you and how to get even. We find the often quoted “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a hand for a hand, a foot for a foot, a burn for a burn, a wound for a wound, a bruise for a bruise.” (Exodus 21:24-25). We also see continual references to women as property, and even wives are only promised “sustenance," "clothing," and "marital relations." I won’t be one to argue with these three necessities, but what about "respect," "safety," and "honesty"? Perhaps I’m reading the words of the Parsha too closely, but perhaps we should all rethink what sustenance really means -- don’t we need love to survive?

Also woven throughout Mishpatim -- just like life’s hardships -- are continual references and illusions to how to conduct respectful and loving relationships.

Unfortunately, there are no set-in-stone rules for love, and certainly not as many as the ordinances set out in Parsha Mishpatim. In this Parsha you read laws spanning agriculture, theft, carnal indiscretions, and holidays. But G-d also sets forth rules similar to guidelines for healthy relationships. Partners should learn:

  • Give and take
    “If you take your neighbor's garment as security, until sunset you shall return it to him” (Ex. 22:25)
  • Empathy
    “And you shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, since you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Ex. 23:9)
  • Loyalty
    “You shall not prostrate yourself before their gods, and you shall not worship them, and you shall not follow their practices.” (Ex. 23:24)

Maybe I’m consumed by the fires of love right now, but the last portion of Mishpatim (in which Moses ascends Mount Sinai and interacts with G-d), sounds strangely familiar to my own experiences with mortal love, in that sometimes reality is clouded, and love is brilliant and consuming:

“And Moses went up to the mountain, and the cloud covered the mountain. And the glory of the Lord rested on Mount Sinai, and the cloud covered it for six days, and He called to Moses on the seventh day from within the cloud. And the appearance of the glory of the Lord was like a consuming fire atop the mountain, before the eyes of the children of Israel. And Moses came within the cloud, and he went up to the mountain, and Moses was upon the mountain forty days and forty nights.” (Ex. 24:15-18)

So in the spirit of the Super Bowl, Valentine’s Day, and G-d’s ordinances, love each other by following the rules of fairness and honesty, and know that it’s okay to become consumed by love. Good luck and ... play ball!




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Thursday, January 24, 2008

Yitro - Finding the Leaders in our lives

Dave Burnett painting a bomb shelter in northern Israel, Dec 2006.

Great leadership follows three key principles:
  1. Know Yourself.
  2. Know the value of servant leadership.
  3. Know your values and do not deviate from them.
One leader that certainly heeded these rules was Martin Luther King, Jr. One of the greatest leaders and orators of all time, King became the spiritual leader of the United States during the civil rights movement of the 1960s. When he spoke, King tied current events with biblical imagery, often using it in new ways -- and Jewish ways, as well.

But did people follow King only for his speeches? No, sir. King led with his heart, and people respected him for that. They saw that he understood his own powers and limitations. He led by example, being arrested several times for refusing to back down in peaceful protest. And no matter what, King never deviated, even until the end. In his final speech, delivered the night before he was assassinated, King recommitted himself and his mission to action through non-violence.

In his final speech King states:
Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn't matter with me now, because I've been to the mountaintop.

And I don't mind.

Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the Promised Land I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!

In this speech, King draws a direct parallel between himself and Moses, the leader of the Hebrews, the one who went to the Mountaintop and looked out into the Promised Land. What did Moses see? How did it relate to what King saw?

Moses was one of King's heroes.

And the two had a lot in common, especially in terms of the tenets laid out above:

1. Moses knew himself.
Unlike King, Moses was not a great orator. Therefore, Moses kept his bro Aaron with him at all times. Aaron was the great communicator; Moses was the visionary. Without each, it would be a stretch to believe that the Hebrews would have made it to the promised land.

2. Moses knew the value of servant leadership.
The people did not just follow Moses blindly. They saw the work he put in. They saw that Moses was willing to submit himself to the Lord and no other. No body worked harder. This is the Michael Jordan rule:
I never took a day off. If I took a day off, then Scottie was going to take a day off. And then Horace. The next thing you know, the whole scope of what we’re trying to do is being weakened. I never took a shortcut, and I never wanted anyone else to take a shortcut. If that meant someone interpreted me as a tyrant, I’m pretty sure they’re appreciative now.
Michael Jordan worked the hardest. He set the example, and his teammates followed him. Moses was the Michael Jordan of the ancient Hebrews and he got them to the Promised Land.

3. Moses stayed true to his values.
He stayed true to God, even when he felt he was being pushed, put in uncomfortable positions and even when he was told he would never be able to enter the Promised Land.

Moses did not do it all by himself. He had Aaron, his "Scottie." He also had plenty of other helpers, other role players. One of these was his father-in-law Yitro. In the Parsha bearing his name, Yitro shows up to greet the triumphant Moses.
SCENE
YITRO
Hey Moses, so yeah ... I always thought you were a great guy a real wonderful new addition to our family. I have brought my daughter, your wife, to be with you.

MOSES
(aside)
Uhhhh ... yeah, sure. Now you want me as your son-in-law. All I had to do was part the Red Sea and lead thousands to freedom. Your daughter is great, but seriously -- you need me to move water for your approval?

(to YITRO)
Thanks, pop.
END SCENE
Yitro decides to spend a day with the Hebrews and observes Moses in action. Moses, the one that split the Red Sea. And after one day of observation, he immediately has advice for his son-in-law.

At the time, Moses was spending a large part of his day amongst the people, hearing their problems, teaching the Law, and passing judgment. Yitro felt like Moses was taking too much time to do this, and advised Moses to divide the people up by finding upstanding men to act as judges. Yitro felt Moses would be burned out if he kept up at the same pace every day.

Now, Moses was not only a visionary, but also a great listener and a follower. Should he have taken Yitro's advice? It is true that Moses was busy, but what about what Moses's teacher and guide (Comissioner G-O-D) wanted? Was God sending a message to Moses through Yitro? Was this a test?

A day or so later, Moses is charged with gathering the Hebrews together and getting them ready for the coming of the Lord, the moment when God reveals himself to the Hebrews at Mt. Sinai. Then Moses goes up to the Mountaintop to receive the Ten Commandments.

This is a heavy burden for anyone to handle, even Moses.

King handled a heavy load as well. But the two had vision. They had purpose. They had a love of life. They also both died before seeing their visions fulfilled.

Life doesn't always turn out the way that we want. Children die everyday. Great leaders are shot down at the podium. Millions of Jews perished needlessly in the Holocaust.

I just spent time in Lublin, Poland where I learned about Rabbi Meir Shapiro. Rabbi Shapiro was another great leader, one who pushed his physical and mental limits to benefit the Jewish people. He taught, he served in government, he revolutionized the way Jews across the world related to each other through study. And he died at a very young age (in his 40s).

Why was his life taken so early? Rabbi Shapiro died in the shadow of the Holocaust. Did he die so that he would not have to suffer? Wouldn't his leadership be needed to inspire his people to get through hard times? These questions remained unanswered. But the riddle remains.

Death is a riddle.

Recently, a peer of mine, Dave Burnett, passed away while hiking in Jordan.

Dave was an amazing friend and passionate leader. Rarely have I seen one so full of life. Where Moses led with vision and King led with communication, Dave led with spirit.

Dave was always surrounded with people. We were drawn to him. To be in Dave's presence was infectious. While together, you knew you would have fun and for a while be as full of life as he was.

Just like all great leaders, Dave knew himself, knew how to be a servant leader and knew his values. He did not deviate from these principals.

Sometimes a candle that burns brightest also burns the quickest. It is a shame that his wick did not last longer, but the light that he provided will shine on for a long time.

Dave was on his journey to the Mountaintop. He wanted to combine his love of his country, Australia, with his love of Israel and the Jewish people worldwide. Dave had a vision. And as we just celebrated the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. on his day, and as we read about Moses in Parsha Yitro and elsewhere in the Torah, so too must we celebrate the lives of other leaders in our lives.

Moses and King are prevalent images in our minds, but they are not attainable. Our friends and the leaders in our everyday lives are the ones that we can touch. The ones that make leadership real for us.

By knowing Dave, working with him, talking to him and having him in my life, I can truly say that I am better able to connect to the meaning of leadership, to my heroes and to Judaism.

Thank you Dave. You will be missed.



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Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Beshalach: The World Without Us

Imagine you are Pharaoh; ruler over the most powerful civilization on Earth. You have enslaved the Israelites for hundreds and hundreds of years. No heavy lifting is involved. Life is pretty good. But then one day, instead of waking up to the laborious groans of the collective slave population, you instead cough on the collective dust left in the wake of the Israelites flying the coup.

That’s right, this is the granddaddy of them all (no, not the Rose Bowl). Parsha Beshalach describes the Israelites’ exodus from Egypt and the parting of the Red Sea, the whole nine yards. When first daydreaming about this Parsha, one cannot help but reenact the infamous scene from the Ten Commandments with Moses (played by Charlton Heston) leading the Israelites to the Red Sea, while Ramses (Yul Brynner) is trying to figure out what happened and leads his troops to stop them. At this point, I consciously stopped my clichéd daydream and began to ponder this Parsha from Pharaoh’s point of view.

Don’t get me wrong, slavery is a bad gig and no one should condone it, but assuming it’s a viable alternative to stock one’s labor force, instantly losing it in its entirely could have some pretty catastrophic consequences on one’s economy and the overall morale of your people. Who would build the pyramids now?

When the Israelites fled Egypt, it was like someone turned off the lights, turned them back on again and everyone had vanished, leaving most of their possessions to live on without them. The World Without Us, by Alan Weisman, assumes a similar premise: At the blink of an eye, the entire human race simply disappears from the Earth. No trace of the human form is detectable. All human bodies have simply vanished.

Setting up this premise, Weisman dives into his non-fiction hypothetical by explaining the main legacy that the human race’s collective will bestowed upon the Earth – its infrastructure. Covering topics as varying as the extinction of species to the structural flaws of the NYC Subway System, Weisman extrapolates how long it will take before humans’ imprint in these realms disappears, if ever. Weisman even cites the Egyptian pyramids’ ability to entomb their contents (due to lack of direct sunlight, moisture, and oxygen) when trying to explain why plastics will never decompose: “Our waste dumps are somewhat like that. Plastic buried where there’s little water, sun, or oxygen will stay intact a long time.”

Like the reading of this week's Parsha prolonging the legacy of ancient Egypt, the choices we make have a profound effect on the future of both the Earth and mankind. Are you a Pharoah or Moses?



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Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Let My People Bo


Don't know what it is, but I'm not feeling particularly witty today, so this is going to be a brief Baum-drop. Maybe it's new the 6 a.m. workout routine. Or maybe the fact that I'm currently doing the majority of this post at work.

A quick recap: It is at this point of our narrative where things have gotten downright unpleasant for Pharaoh and the Egyptians. They've gone through seven fairly gross plagues, Pharaoh's heart has been constantly hardened and softened by God, and the land smells like dead frogs ... not quite harsh enough payback for 400 years of oppression and humiliation, but in the words of Ol' Blue Eyes, the best is yet to come. Moses and Aaron (or apparently MJ and Scottie Pippen. Man, I wish I saved my conversation with The Brooklyn Boy about basketball players and their biblical counterparts) have implored Pharaoh several times to let the people of Israel go so that they can serve God, and have been turned down. Hold onto this thought.

Now comes Parsha, Bo: Locusts, darkness and death of the firstborn. Not sure if you have ever lived in DC when the cicadas invade, but it's straight nasty to walk on dead bugs, and I can't even imagine what Egypt was like when the locusts came to town. Actually, I'd like to keep that thought confined to my imagination, because you couldn't pay me enough money to sit through The Reaping.

Then comes the darkness, which is both a practical and metaphorical punishment. The Torah and ancient Judaism seem to be cut and dry about where they stand on darkness: Light good, darkness bad. God created light and saw that it was good. The authors of the Dead Sea Scrolls were preparing for a war between the Sons of Darkness and the Sons of Light. The ancient Jews understood the significance of the plague of darkness; in complete darkness, physical and spiritual, not only can't you see, but you cannot see. Word.

The next two chapters highlight the Passover story, several commandments and the death of the firstborn for all Egyptians. This is real important in the history of the Jewish people, but I'm going to save that exegesis for when we get there in April.

You know the powerful spiritual by now, Let My People Go. But the song leaves out a crucial part -- God told Moses to tell Pharaoh to let his people go so that they can serve God. Yes, the Israelites had been brutally enslaved by the Egyptians for centuries, yes, God heard the cries of his oppressed people, yes, God has a beautiful way of setting free the captives ... but the one condition for freedom was for the lives of the Israelites to serve a purpose. What good is freedom if it doesn't mean anything to the free? Why not just be slaves?

I'm not going to get all Pit Preacher on you and claim to know exactly what God likes or wants, but if I had to take a guess, I think living a life of purpose and meaning qualifies as serving God in a positive way. Relationships between people matter, and so does a positive relationship with your surrounding environment. May 2008 be a year in which you can discover or strengthen your life's purpose, and know that it can change (and that's OK) as often as this 20-something has changed careers. If at some point this year you come to foolishly believe that you are contributing little to this broken world, remember that a smile, a kind word, and some compassion toward your fellow people makes waves, and you're actually helping to save the world from itself.

Damn, that was kitschy. Happy New Year.



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Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Pursuing Perseverance (Vaera)


There's an old sports cliche, widely attributed to Hall of Fame baseball manager Sparky Anderson that goes, "If you have good players and if you keep them in the right frame of mind, then the manager is a success." Knowing the outcome of the story of Exodus, it's clear the G-O-D proved this truism by getting the Chosen People out of bondage, despite obstacles that would force a duo with weaker constitutions than Moses and Aaron to set down their staffs. (I'll spare you kids the lectures about Mo and Double-A debuting the roles MJ and Scottie would fill in the '90s. ... And the one about Moses not understanding no one is more important than the system, thus forcing the G(M) to rebuild on the fly around rising Biblical star Joshua.)

Okay, I lied about the first one -- it's relevant this week. Check the breakdown of Vaera:

Moses initially gets shot down by the people in his initial attempt at rallying them, so crushed are their souls by years of bondage. (See: wide-eyed Mike joining the Bulls.) So Moses expresses concern about his ability to lead, and God says he's on it, reminding Mo that Double-A has the ability to orate that the lead dog lacks. (See: Scottie got complementary game.) Finally convinced his boy is of right mind to do the damn thing, the G(M)OD sicks Mo and Double-A on the Bad Boys, at which point Pharaoh repeatedly lays the smack down. (See: The Pistons beating the Bulls many times.)

Strip away all else, and Vaera is a portion about perseverance. Moses (and Aaron!) spends the whole time trying to split a heart of stone like it's the Liberty Bell, hoping justice streams out upon the people of Israel. He marches out plague after plague, going through blood, frogs, lice, insects, pestilence, boils and hail. And seven times is teased with the taste of freedom for his people, but as God forewarns (Exodus 7:3), Pharaoh's heart stiffens and the Jews remain enslaved (7:13; 8:11, 15, 28; 9:7, 12). The final insult of the portion comes when Pharaoh finally concedes due to the hail (9:28), but takes it back AGAIN when Mo puts the kibosh on the wacky weather. (9:34-35)

At portion's end, the Jews were THIS CLOSE. But not there yet. And they've been rejected seven times. Our boy kept going back time after time because he believed in the system, that what he was doing would work. Moses questioned the system, but found a way to work within it, and kept slugging away. Something inside is telling him, "Coach knows what's up. This will be successful. And we almost got out that time! So close. Just wait 'til next plague!" We know Mo is rewarded three crazy MFing plagues later, but what's his motivation at the time? Why keep at this? It's clearly futile!

What it comes down to is this: Perseverance lasts as long as a goal matters to you. Because the second it doesn't matter as much, you're going to try a little less hard to achieve it, and be a little less successful. This often means taking chances that other people might find difficult. But one has to recognize when the cost has begun to weigh more than the benefit. You can live your 20s on a pittance while writing the Great American Novel I've thus far neglected to and still come out on top, but if you swing your 30s on a leaky pipe dream, you're gonna end up broke, wet and alone.*

Honestly, you can't always know if you're making the right decision at the time. All you can do is follow your instincts, and try to really listen to and build upon any criticism thrown your way. It took Jonathan Larson seven years -- and a lot of lessons in compromise -- to bring the Broadway musical RENT to production. Here's a quote from the book:
There were a lot of struggles between Jonathan and Jim [Nicola, artistic director] and us at the workshop. He took this project to other theaters, and they started it and dropped it because he was difficult to deal with. Jim was really great in teaching him how to be patient and how to collaborate. Jonathan just didn't trust us and needed us to say in writing that "you will produce my play by such and such a date." Jim said, "No, we'll see how it goes and keep working until it's ready to be produced."
--Martha Banta, assistant director at NYTW
Larson never lived to see RENT succeed, but his perseverance and learned ability to work within the system instead of against it drove that success. Broadway hasn't been the same since. It's a tale first told on the record 5,000 years ago, when Moses died without entering the Promised Land, only leading the Jewish people there. The student had become the master.

Never stop learning.

Always question where you're going.

I'll try to meet you there one day.


*I'm not grounding that paragraph in personal examples, because I feel like I've used them before (moving to Oneonta) or they're too raw, and not proper for the space. Let's pretend I did, k? Word.



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Thursday, December 27, 2007

Discord and Dialogue (Shemot)


Regular contributor Casseopia drops knowledge like she's got enough to lose. Check her latest post below:

This week, we begin the book of Exodus with Parshat Shemot. A lot happens in this Parsha, including the entire first half of Cecil B. DeMille's movie: from the Hebrew slaves being put to task building Pithom and Ramses to Moses’s marriage to Tzipporah in the desert of Midian. This is the Parsha where it all goes down – Moses meets God for the first time at the burning bush, and he begins his life’s work of bringing the Jewish people to Israel.

The story of Exodus is an epic tale of oppression, revolution, and freedom. This story is so crucial to the Jewish faith that we tell it three times during the year – once in shul, as read from the Torah, and once at each of the two sedorot (Passover meals) as we read from the Haggadah. Why is this story so important to us? What does this story reveal about Judaism and how does it apply to the way we practice Judaism today?

My experience as a Jew is both spiritual and political. I am frequently called upon to contribute my opinion regarding the Israel/Palestine conflict “as a Jew”, as if my thoughts on the matter are more valid than those of any gentile. I find, ironically, that it is most difficult to express my opinion on the matter because I am Jewish. Is it okay for me to criticize Israel’s actions? Is it kosher to sympathize with the Palestinian people? Can I be a leftist and also be a Zionist?

The Torah (and incidentally, nearly every Israeli I’ve met) answers a resounding: "Yes!" The Torah teaches that we should rise up in the face of an oppressive government, that we should seek out strong leaders and hold them accountable for their actions. It is our heritage to call people out when they do wrong, whether you’re a slave in Egypt (Exodus 2:11-14), or a card-carrying member of the first middle eastern democracy.

Dialogue and discord are encouraged in Judaism. The Torah teaches that it’s okay to struggle, that’s it’s okay to get things wrong. -- the interaction is what has value.


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Wednesday, December 26, 2007

The Torah Gets Up on That Ass ... (Shemot)

My boy D Lycious hit me with a surprise commentary this week, so check the kid's debut post below:

Long before Sir Mixalot, us Jews have been "getting up on that ass" for centuries now. In Parshat Shemot, after HaShem does His best rendition of my favorite Pesach song, "Go Down Moses," there is an innocuous verse where Moses and fam do as HaShem says (which is always a good decision):
So Moses took his wife and his sons, mounted them upon the donkey, and he returned to the land of Egypt ... (Exodus 4:20)
Seems pretty simple, right? What better form of transportation to get to Egypt than a friendly, run-of-the-mill beast of burden? But as with everything in Torah, there is something deeper at play here ...

Why "the donkey"? I don’t know this donkey from my ass (pun intended), so why are we on such a close basis? Wouldn’t "a" donkey suffice as transportation to Egypt? Sure, but because dayenu, it would have been enough for a donkey to take them to Egypt, this must be “the” donkey of some yet-to-be-uncovered fame.

Let’s look a bit deeper: In Hebrew, the word for donkey is chamor, which appears in a few places before, such as when it comes to Abraham. There is a very similar situation where Abraham specifically packs up (in this case) "his donkey," namely during the Akedah or binding of Isaac (Genesis 22). Talmudic scholar Rashi, referencing Pirke d’ Rabbi Eliezer, has my back on this one. In his commentary of Exodus 4:20, he writes, that our ass is the donkey that "Abraham saddled for the binding of Isaac, and that is the one upon whom the King Messiah is destined to appear, as it is said: 'humble, and riding a donkey.' " (Zechariah 9:9)

Evidently this ass gets around and he’s pretty damn old, and evidently still kicking if the Messiah needs to get up on that ass some time in the future. Additionally, this chamor seems to have a magical power for seeking out the spotlight. First, he wanders in when Abraham performs the ultimate test of faith and then -- lo and behold -- the ass is there when Moses is sent to redeem HaShem's children from Egypt.

So right of the bat you know that Abraham’s ass is pretty magical, both in age and at stepping in shit. To quickly segue, we see that the ass is far more magical that Dominick the Italian Christmas Donkey, who only helps one person do one particular important thing, but not as magical as Shrek’s buddy, Donkey, who also just helps one person but can talk! But if it’s a talking ass you want, all we have to do is look ahead to the portion of Balak, where Moses and people Israel come in contact with another chamor.

I’m sure that you’ll be able to read up more on this Parsha when it comes around in July or so, but for now, here’s a brief rundown: Moses has led the People Israel through the land of Moab, where the King Balak doesn’t take too kindly to them round there and sends a prophet, Balaam, to go curse the People Israel. Balaam "saddled his ass" to go with the princes of Moab to overlook the People Israel and curse them, but oddly enough his ass veered off course when HaShem sent an angel to stand in its path. Balaam didn’t really like this so he started beating the donkey, at which point HaShem made the donkey speak to Balaam with the proverbial "Why you gotta do me like that?" Then HaShem reveals to Balaam the angel that had been in the donkey’s way and Balaam is persuaded begrudgingly to become a double agent for HaShem against King Balak of Moab.

Overall, the Torah has many parables about asses. In particular it is associated with the physical and material -- chamor comes from the word chomer, which means "physicality." In Abraham’s and Balaam’s case, they "saddled" the ass, from the Hebrew word yachvosh, which comes from the verb "to conquer." However, when Moses "mounted" his family upon the chamor, the Hebrew word was yarkivem, which comes from the verb "to ride." What is different between these settings?

Abraham and Balaam, who are contrasted in Talmud (Pirke Avot 5:22, were required to submit to HaShem’s will and reject the physical, material temptations to either not kill your own son (understandable) or to be greedy (also understandable, but not as admirable). They had to "conquer" the physical world in order to perform the task at hand. However, for Moses, HaShem had already in the previous part of the Parsha explained what the true task was. Whether Moses and family got to Egypt by plane, train, or automobile, they just needed to get there; though the task was similar for Moses and his family -- to liberate the People Israel from their physical oppression and slavery, to conquer Pharaoh’s material grasp on their lives -- they were merely along for the "ride."

So it is with life, that though we may all strive to be more spiritual and do away with the material crap that seems to weigh us down, it’s cool to use asses ... I mean, the physical world, to get us where we want to be spiritually.



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Friday, December 21, 2007

Vayechi: Coming to a Theater Near You


This week we end the book of Genesis, and fittingly so we say goodbye to the last of the Patriarchs, Jacob. This Parsha, Vayechi, begins with Jacob lying on his death bed, blessing the sons of his own favorite son Joseph, Manasseh and Ephraim, fitting bestowing onto them the covenant between G-d and the Jewish people:
"Behold, I will make thee fruitful, and multiply thee, and I will make of thee a company of peoples; and will give this land to thy seed after thee for an everlasting possession" (Gen. 47:4)
The story does take an interesting twist, as Jacob decides to give the blessing reserved for the elder to the younger, Ephraim. This ironically enrages Joseph -- who himself was the youngest, and also favorite, of his father -- but Jacob explains: "He also shall be great; howbeit his younger brother shall be greater than he, and his seed shall become a multitude of nations." (Gen. 48:19)

This is an interesting bookend to both the life of Jacob and the book of Genesis, which is chock full of sibling rivalry. Starting with the most famous sibling rivalry, that of Cain and Abel (and we all know how that turned out); we move to Isaac and Ishmael; and then onto a story, that of Jacob and Esau, strikingly similar to the current Parsha, to Joseph's exile to Egypt at the hands of his own brothers, finally arriving back at the current situation: a younger son being given preferential treatment.

It is unclear in the text whether or not G-d told Jacob to bestow this blessing upon Ephraim instead of Manasseh or if Jacob was projecting his own sibling-dynamic biases. Regardless of the motivation, it is clear that Jacob's choice would have consequences.

Last night I saw a sneak preview of Charlie Wilson's War, the true story of how a playboy congressman, a renegade CIA agent and a beautiful Houston socialite joined forces to lead the largest and most successful covert operation in history. Their efforts contributed to the fall of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War.

I enjoyed the movie a great deal. The dialogue between Tom Hanks (Charlie Wilson) and Philip Seymour Hoffman (CIA Agent Gust Avrakotos) was witty and entertaining amidst the horror the Afghani people suffered during the Soviet invasion of their country.

Unlike many covert operations the United States government has undertaken throughout its more recent history, be it the Bay of Pigs or Iran Contra, Wilson’s operation was deemed a major success at the time, but ultimately failed at the United States refused to take the steps necessary to rebuild Afghanistan after it had been ravaged by war, allowing the fundamentalist Taliban to take control of the country. We all know the end product of this miscalculation. Without giving too much away, Wilson struggles with the US government's incapability to finish the job he catalyzed. Prior to the credits appears this quote from the real Charlie Wilson: "Those things happened. They were glorious and they changed the world. And then we fucked up the endgame."

So much written in the Torah is both "glorious" and "changed the world," but you have to question whether some decisions made were the "will of god" or simply poor decision based on the free will of man. The consequences of these actions are seen today, as religious fundamentalism fuels so much of the hate amongst people throughout the world. Will this story eventually have a happy ending?

In Charlie Wilson's War, Avrakotos tells Wilson the story of a Zen master and a troubled villager. The villager is worried about the repercussions of his son getting a horse, then injuring himself on the horse, and then his inability to go to war due to his injury. Each time the villager goes to the Zen master, the Zen master replies, "We shall see," highlighting both the future’s uncertainty and also teaching the villager to look past the surface of what seems like a foregone conclusion. This week, as we turn to the next book of the Torah and we turn the page in our world's history, "We shall see" if foregone conclusions are realized or more complex consequences come to pass.



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Wednesday, December 12, 2007

(Hebrew) Hammering for Heroes


Quick story before I begin. A few co-workers of mine came to my desk a few days ago and asked the age-old question: "How the hell do you spell 'Hanukkah?' Is with the 'CH' or with the 'H?'" And then (jokingly), "Why can't all the Jews just sit in a big room and decide on the correct spelling?"

Really? I guess they don't know about what happened the last time we Jews all conspired together.* Or maybe they've just never heard the phrase "5 Jews, 7 opinions." I bet a bag of gelt that the Chanukah/Hanukkah/Channukkah discrepancy was all thought of by the same dude.

By now, you've probably heard about the glorious Hanukkah story. The Syrian-Greeks came to Judea with their Hellenistic BS and started to violently oppress the Jews. Many Jews dug the new Greek customs, language, and fashion, (chitons were all the rage back then) and assimilated. King Antiochus IV Epiphanes put a Hellenistic priest in the Temple and began requiring the sacrifice of pigs on the altar. This brought tensions to a boiling point, and under the direction of Mattathias the Hasmonean (Matisyahu!), a revolt against the Hellenistic rule began. Mattathias and his son Judah the Maccabee led a group (let's call them a band) of ultra-nationalistic Jews against the Greek forces, hid out in the hills and caves of the Judean Desert, and ultimately re-captured Mt. Zion back for the Jews.

Upon returning to the Temple, the Maccabees found that very little oil was left undefiled by the Greeks to light the menorah, but the oil actually ended up burning for eight days. A festival was commemorated to celebrate the miracle of the oil lasting so long, but not because the small, ragtag Maccabee gang of warrior Jews defeated the large Syrian-Greek army.

Why not? Shouldn't we as Jews celebrate the victory of the weak over the strong? Yes, it's great that the oil lasted long enough for the Maccabees to press new oil for the Temple's menorah so they wouldn't have to use the defiled oil, but had they not won this particular revolt...who knows, Judaism might have ceased to exist. Then we'd have nothing funny to kvetch about.

Which brings us to my central topic (bear with me): who are the true Jewish heroes/heroines? Judaism does not venerate war - or at least its not supposed to - but think about all the iconic figures in the Torah who achieved greatness through battle: Joshua, King David, Deborah (and for that matter, several of the Judges) the Maccabees, and more.

On the flip side, war has always directly or indirectly been our ruin. The Maccabees may have won the first Jewish revolt, but they eventually made an alliance/pact with Rome which later led to Israel's destruction and exile of the Jews from the land. Bar Kochba, the Messianic-ish leader of the Second Jewish Revolt, is despised in some Jewish circles because the Jews lost and the Jews were dispersed into the Galut. Even today...

With the center of Jewish worship destroyed, the focus of Judaism shifted to the synagogue and inward to personal study. The new Jewish heroes were the geniuses of Jewish thought, the Talmudic ethicists, the learned Sages...the original yeshivas bochurs. Jewish power would never again come in the form of the sword and spear, but through prayer and the written word. Then Zionism changed everything.

Think about it. I read a fantastic book a few years called Searching for My Brothers: Jewish Men in a Gentile World by Rabbi Jeffrey Salkin, where the author raises some very tough and poignant questions about Jewish manhood. In the book, Salkin claims that in a way, Zionism is the reclamation of Jewish masculinity because of what it embodies at its core: We want our own state so you can't push us around anymore. We will no longer be emasculated. Through a Jewish state, Jews could again become strong and shed the image of the bookish weakling that has plagued the Jewish people for over two millennia. Study and Jewish learning were still of great importance, but so was physical strength in order to defend Israel against its enemies.

So then who are we to venerate as heroes? The strong Jewish warriors who physically defeated our enemies, or the Talmudic Sages of old and rabbis of today who helped to establish accepted Jewish thought and consciousness? Are today's Israeli soldiers who stand on the fronts lines heroes? Or what about our millions of Jewish martyrs who died and could not or did not fight back in the face of unimaginable evil? For such a minor holiday, Hanukkah sure brings up a lot of questions.

There are those who may have died in the pursuit of justice, or who were martyred. There are the nameless and faceless heroes whom history has forgot and time will never remember. I think part of the essence of a Jewish hero is someone who maybe did right by Jews, but more importantly, did right by humankind. Perhaps that could extend from anyone from Moses to King David to Sandy Koufax (might as well throw Shawn Green in that one too) to David Ben-Gurion to Goldberg.

No matter what side of the spectrum you're on, in the end, we cannot forget about the Maccabee legacy. Don't let the light go out.

* Sarcasm



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Friday, November 30, 2007

Thank Me Later (Vayeshev)

This week, the big story is Joseph and his Amazing Techicolor Dreamcoat. Dad gives Joe a nice jacket, his brothers sell him for twenty pieces of silver, Joey ends up a courtier for the Pharaoh, he gets imprisoned, interprets some dreams and is forgotten about. I'm not going there.

I'ma get after the saga of Judah and his fam (Gen. 38:1-30). First, Judah meets and marries Shua, who pops out, in succession, Er, Onan and Shelah, all boys. Then Judah does the dad thing and hooks Er up with a wife, Tamar. But Er ticks off the G-O-D, and is smote, which is where our story gets interesting:
Then Judah said to Onan, "Join with your brother's wife and do your duty by her as a brother-in-law, and provide offspring for your brother." But Onan, knowing the seed would not count as his, let it go to waste whenever he joined his brother's wife, so as not to provide offspring for his brother. What he did was displeasing to the Lord, and He took his life also. (Gen. 38:8-10)
AHA! We have found the famed source of the biblical ban on masturbation. Except there seems to be one key thing missing from the passage ... you know, like any mention of self-love. The argument against goes, "Onan was killed by God for 'spilling his seed,' hence don't masturbate or you will be displeasing in the eyes of the Lord."

This is where one of my favorite things in the world comes into play. I like to call it "context." See if you read those three verses oh, say ... TOGETHER, Onan is struck down because he "spilled his seed" -- in a blatant refusal to participate in the waaaaaay outdated practice of levirate marriage, which by Deuteronomy is already made optional through Halizah, and is frowned upon by Talmudic Times. (Good look, Jewish Encyclopedia.)

Not to mention that Leviticus 16-18 says that an emission of semen just means you gotta take a bath, wash anything you busted on and then wait til evening to be ritually "clean." (We can all just pretend I knew that offhand, and didn't get an assist from say ... Wikipedia.)

If anything, you could say this is an argument against pulling out, and then streeeeetch it to contraception being bad news bears. But again, those would both be in the context of being selfish, not giving your brother's wife a heir and just sleeping with her for kicks. Which we should all be able to agree is pretty weird. Unless you're from West Virginia.

Hence, for the moral of the story, I'll quote a Jew we all know and might be more than a little skeeved out by:
"Don't knock masturbation -- it's sex with someone you love"



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Thursday, November 22, 2007

The Rape of Dinah/The Danger of Silence (Vayishlach)

With the dissonance between the Hebrew and Gregorian calendars, topics covered in a given Parsha don't always mesh with the American holidays that fall during that week. As you celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday, cherish the experience, and be thankful that you live in a country where -- for all the political discord of recent years -- you're living in a country whose soil has been untouched by war for more than a century* and guarantees freedoms to organize, to report and to speak out against that which you don't believe in. First-time contributor Eve's Apple e-mailed me the following commentary, inspired by this report (PDF).

I think when most people read about the story of Dinah, they are initially shocked and appalled by the act of rape itself. We tend to focus our anger mainly on Shechem, the son of Hamor, and contemplate how evil and arrogant he must be to kidnap and rape a woman just because he feels entitled to her.

However, when I read about Dinah’s rape this time around, I was more outraged by Jacob’s response than really anything else. One would think that as Dinah’s father, Jacob would be the most distraught and angered that his daughter has just been raped, but instead of wanting revenge for his innocent daughter’s rape, he is silent.

It truly baffles me how Jacob could remain so quiet and calm after his daughter’s rape. How can he be so silent in the face of tragedy? How could anyone be silent and not take a stand against the rape of the innocent?

I say this, and yet it occurs to me that we, as humans and Americans, are silent everyday as similar atrocities are happening around the world. Just look at the tragedy in Sudan. While there is still ridiculous debate amongst the international community about whether Darfur should be considered genocide, the bottom line is that as many as 400,000 civilians have been killed and up to 2.5 million Darfuris have been forced to leave their homes and now live in camps for internally displaced persons.

Call it genocide, ethnic cleansing, a crime against humanity…it really doesn’t matter what we call it, especially since right now, our silence is doing all the talking.

Now in its fourth year of violence, the U.N. has called Darfur, the world's “greatest humanitarian crisis,” and President Bush has come out and declared it to be genocide. So why then are thousands and thousands of innocent people being killed and raped every day?
“When my village was attacked, 30 men with guns entered in the village. Some of them found me in my house. Three of them raped me and I fell unconscious. The men locked me inside my house (straw hut) and set it on fire. I managed to get out of the house through the burning grass.”
--Woman, 17, October 2004, West Darfur
In Darfur, rape is used as a weapon of war. The Janjaweed rape the Sudanese women as a way to violate their human rights, and also as a way to humiliate her husband, her family and her community. Rapes are done in the open, to young girls, pregnant women, anytime, anywhere. If you resist the rape, then you are beaten and even killed.

"I was sleeping when the attack on Disa started. I was taken away by the attackers, they were all in uniforms. They took dozens of other girls and made us walk for three hours. During the day we were beaten and they were telling us: "You, the black women, we will exterminate you, you have no god." At night we were raped several times. The Arabs guarded us with arms and we were not given food for three days."
--A female refugee from Disa [Masalit village, West Darfur],
interviewed by Amnesty International delegates
in Goz Amer camp for Sudanese refugees in Chad, May 2004
Just like Dinah’s voice is never heard throughout Genesis, these women also usually remain silent about their rapes and beatings. During Dinah’s time, a woman would remain silent about a rape because it was considered an extremely shameful act. (The Law of Deuteronomy 22 and Exodus 22 explain that the rapists would have been expected to marry the woman he rapes, live with her and support her for the rest of her life.)

Likewise, in Sudan and in many Islamic countries, society views sexual assault as a dishonor upon the woman's entire family. Victims can face terrible ostracism and embarrassment if they come forward. Therefore, rape victims remain quiet in order to avoid stigma or further mistreatment. (Just listen to Aziza’s story, which almost completely parallel’s Dinah’s story.)

"I am 16 years old. On day, in March 2004, I was collecting firewood for my family when three armed men on camels came and surrounded me. They held me down, tied my hands and raped me one after the other. When I arrive home, I told my family what happened. They threw me out of home and I had to build my own hut away from them. I was engaged to a man and I was so much looking forward to getting married. After I got raped, he did not want to marry me and broke off the engagement because he said that I was now disgraced and spoilt. When I was eight months pregnant from the rape, the police came to my hut and forced me with their guns to go to the police station. They asked me questions, so I told them that I had been raped. They told me that as I was not married, I will deliver this baby illegally. They beat me with a whip on the chest and back and put me in jail. There were other women in jail, who had the same story. During the day, we had to walk to the well four times a day to get the policemen water, clean and cook for them. At night, I was in a small cell with 23 other women. I had no other food than what I could find during my work during the day. And the only water was what I drank at the well. I stayed 10 days in jail and now I still have to pay the fine, 20,000 Sudanese Dinars (65 USD) they asked me. My child is now 2 months old."
--Woman, 16, February 2005, West Darfur
After the Holocaust, the world said, “Never Again.” After the Rwanda genocide, we promised, “Not on Our Watch.” Genocide is happening and something most be done, more quickly and more forcibly before it is too late. I won’t pretend to have all the answers regarding this tragedy, and I realize that this is a complicated issue that can’t be solved overnight. But what I am 100% sure about is that silence is not an option. We can’t just sit back while innocent people are murdered and raped. This genocide has gone on long enough.
“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
--Martin Luther King, Jr.
*All due respect to Pearl Harbor, but I'm talking mainland.



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