Tuesday, July 13, 2010
New blog
Well, not really, but the "Open Minded Torah" blog is new to me. And it has some very interesting posts, for example here and here.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Torah and science
"Our restricted minds see two realms, natural laws and man-made laws, the universe of physics and the universe of morals. But to God there is no distinction and both universes are one, because creation is an expression of divine chessed, an ethical performance. Since the world was created to share His existence with others, in essence a moral activity, the laws governing the cosmic processes are not just neutral laws; they rather express the absolute moral law. To deny this, and postulate two realms, would cause the whole monotheistic structure to crumble." -R' Soloveitchik, "The Rav Thinking Aloud", 87-88.
If asked, I would have said almost the opposite of this quote. But it makes a certain sense. It looks like I need to think more deeply about the subject.
Another interesting quote from the book:
"If you want to know what lashon hara is, whatever you enjoy when you talk about someone: that is lashon hara."
If asked, I would have said almost the opposite of this quote. But it makes a certain sense. It looks like I need to think more deeply about the subject.
Another interesting quote from the book:
"If you want to know what lashon hara is, whatever you enjoy when you talk about someone: that is lashon hara."
Thursday, June 24, 2010
The incense column
"These are remembered negatively... the house of Avtinas, who did not want to teach about the incense. The Rabbis taught: The house of Avtinas was skilled in the preparing of incense, but its members were unwilling to teach [their method]. The Sages sent for workers from Alexandria [to replace them]. These [workers] could prepare the incense, but could not make it so that the smoke would not bend [as it rose]. The smoke of the incense prepared by the house of Avtinas rose straight, like a rod, and the smoke of the others' incense bent this way and that." (Yoma 38a)
"The ‘ma’aleh ashan’ [herb?] would [cause the smoke from the burning incense] to rise straight up like a staff…" (Yoma 53a).
These sources discuss the smoke issuing from incense burning in the Temple. We see from both sources that the smoke was supposed to rise in a perfectly straight column.
This incense column is NOT the same smoke that Pirkei Avot 5:5 says was miraculously never dispersed by the wind. That smoke was from animal sacrifices burning on the large outdoor altar. We are talking about smoke from incense burned inside the Temple, where there was no wind. There is no need to assume that the vertical rising of incense smoke is miraculous. In fact, I will now provide a purely natural explanation for it.
Examine the following photograph of burning incense. At first, the smoke rises in a smooth vertical column. Then, past a certain point, the column collapses into a bunch of turbulent swirls. This is a common phenomenon, which I have seen with incense sticks and cigarettes, as well as in this picture.
It seems to me that the gemara is talking about this kind of smoke column and swirls. Smoke naturally begins as a straight column, and past a certain point becomes turbulent. Depending on the type of incense, the turbulence could begin sooner or later. The rabbis desired incense whose turbulence was delayed, so that the smoke column remained vertical for as long as possible.
I asked my father, a physics professor, to explain why this phenomenon occurs. Here is his response, (with the "bottom line" highlighted, in case you don't have patience for the technical details).
So there you go. Now you, too, know how to make perfectly rising incense, like the house of Avtinas did. Well, at least you know which factors to experiment with until by luck or skill you get it right. As I learned when my roommate did a class project on gas engine combustion chamber designs, the precise analysis of burning is very complicated and sometimes not fully predictable even by modern science.
Why was it desired that the smoke column rise straight upward? Possible reasons include: 1) It was simply more aesthetically pleasing. 2) It was cleaner – smoke concentrated at the ceiling rather than filling the entire room. 3) It was symbolic of the incense going directly to God and not getting "stuck" on the way there. 4) The rabbis noticed the link between vertical rising and slow burning; wanting the incense to last longer, they wanted to see vertical rising as an indication of this.
Whatever the reason, it seems this goal was not trivial to achieve. According to the gemara, a particular substance ("ma'aleh ashan") had to be mixed into the incense. But just the presence of that substance was not sufficient, and expert preparation was needed as well. The House of Avtinas were the experts, and the rabbis tried unsuccessfully to break their monopoly on the correct method.
One final word on the column of smoke from the outdoor altar. Pirkei Avot says that this smoke rose vertically as well, miraculously, despite the wind. What was the point of this vertical rising? Explanations 1), 2) and 3) from the incense column would also seem to apply here, with minor changes. 1) A vertical column of smoke would be more attractive, and like a skyscraper more visible to people far from the Temple. (Compare this to Akedat Yitzchak, where in the midrash Avraham saw a cloud over Mt. Moriah before arriving. Maybe he was prophetically envisioning smoke from sacrifices there?) 2) Anyone who has made a bonfire knows how annoying it is to stand downwind from the fire and get smoke blown in your face. With a vertical column that would not happen. 3) The burning sacrifices are supposed to provide a pleasing odor" to God (Bamidbar 28:1 and other verses). If the smoke is blown horizontally, then it never goes up to the heavens, giving the impression that God is literally pushing the sacrifice to the side and rejecting it.
"The ‘ma’aleh ashan’ [herb?] would [cause the smoke from the burning incense] to rise straight up like a staff…" (Yoma 53a).
These sources discuss the smoke issuing from incense burning in the Temple. We see from both sources that the smoke was supposed to rise in a perfectly straight column.
This incense column is NOT the same smoke that Pirkei Avot 5:5 says was miraculously never dispersed by the wind. That smoke was from animal sacrifices burning on the large outdoor altar. We are talking about smoke from incense burned inside the Temple, where there was no wind. There is no need to assume that the vertical rising of incense smoke is miraculous. In fact, I will now provide a purely natural explanation for it.
Examine the following photograph of burning incense. At first, the smoke rises in a smooth vertical column. Then, past a certain point, the column collapses into a bunch of turbulent swirls. This is a common phenomenon, which I have seen with incense sticks and cigarettes, as well as in this picture.
It seems to me that the gemara is talking about this kind of smoke column and swirls. Smoke naturally begins as a straight column, and past a certain point becomes turbulent. Depending on the type of incense, the turbulence could begin sooner or later. The rabbis desired incense whose turbulence was delayed, so that the smoke column remained vertical for as long as possible.
I asked my father, a physics professor, to explain why this phenomenon occurs. Here is his response, (with the "bottom line" highlighted, in case you don't have patience for the technical details).
The rising column of hot air is unstable to shear instability (the simplest shear instability is Kelvin-Helmholtz instability that occurs between two half-spaces with relative velocity parallel to their boundary) that develops into turbulence. This can be stabilized by viscosity or density stratification (the latter is relevant to Kelvin-Helmholtz in the atmosphere, ocean, etc., but not to a rising column of hot air).
If the rise is slow and the column thin, viscosity will be more effective in stabilizing the flow. Very slow burning will then tend to produce a steady column. The burning rate will depend on how finely the incense is ground, what it is made of, moisture content, degree of packing, etc. The trick is to slow the burning without making it extinguish itself.
So there you go. Now you, too, know how to make perfectly rising incense, like the house of Avtinas did. Well, at least you know which factors to experiment with until by luck or skill you get it right. As I learned when my roommate did a class project on gas engine combustion chamber designs, the precise analysis of burning is very complicated and sometimes not fully predictable even by modern science.
Why was it desired that the smoke column rise straight upward? Possible reasons include: 1) It was simply more aesthetically pleasing. 2) It was cleaner – smoke concentrated at the ceiling rather than filling the entire room. 3) It was symbolic of the incense going directly to God and not getting "stuck" on the way there. 4) The rabbis noticed the link between vertical rising and slow burning; wanting the incense to last longer, they wanted to see vertical rising as an indication of this.
Whatever the reason, it seems this goal was not trivial to achieve. According to the gemara, a particular substance ("ma'aleh ashan") had to be mixed into the incense. But just the presence of that substance was not sufficient, and expert preparation was needed as well. The House of Avtinas were the experts, and the rabbis tried unsuccessfully to break their monopoly on the correct method.
One final word on the column of smoke from the outdoor altar. Pirkei Avot says that this smoke rose vertically as well, miraculously, despite the wind. What was the point of this vertical rising? Explanations 1), 2) and 3) from the incense column would also seem to apply here, with minor changes. 1) A vertical column of smoke would be more attractive, and like a skyscraper more visible to people far from the Temple. (Compare this to Akedat Yitzchak, where in the midrash Avraham saw a cloud over Mt. Moriah before arriving. Maybe he was prophetically envisioning smoke from sacrifices there?) 2) Anyone who has made a bonfire knows how annoying it is to stand downwind from the fire and get smoke blown in your face. With a vertical column that would not happen. 3) The burning sacrifices are supposed to provide a pleasing odor" to God (Bamidbar 28:1 and other verses). If the smoke is blown horizontally, then it never goes up to the heavens, giving the impression that God is literally pushing the sacrifice to the side and rejecting it.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Hilchot Mundial
הלכות מונדיאל
גיל סלוביק
1. נהגו אומות העולם להיאבק זו בזו מדי ד' שנים בכיבוש שערים עד אשר יימצא זה אשר הגביע בידו, כדכתיב: ובשנה הרביעית יהיה לכדור קודש הילולים למונדיאל. וכיוון שהכיבוש משחית הוא, נוהגים ישראל להחמיר ולא לכבוש שערים כלל, ותחת להתחרות במונדיאל, מסתפקים בצפייה בו, בבחינת אותו תראה ושמה לא תשחק.
2. מצוות הצפייה במונדיאל מצוות עשה שהזמן גרמא היא, ועל כן נוהגת בגברים בלבד, וטוב שיתכוון הגבר להוציא אשתו מהבית בזמן המשחק.
3. יש לצאת בכל תוקף כנגד אותן נשים שעושות עצמן כמתעניינות בכדורגל, ותחת להניח לנפשם של הגברים, מציקות הן בקושיות סבוכות על חוקי המשחק בדיוק כשמסי פורץ לרחבה, וידוע מאמר חז"ל כי המלמד את אשתו כדורגל כאילו מלמדה תיפלות, שהוא מלמדה פרק בהלכות נבדל והיא שואלתו על שום מה נבדלים צבעי מדי הנבחרות אלה מאלה, ואינה מכירה בין תכלת של ארגנטינה ללבן של אנגליה.
4. נתייחדה מצוות הצפייה במונדיאל, שעל אף שמצוות עשה היא, יש בה משום שב ואל תעשה, שדי לו לאדם שירבץ בכורסתו אל מול המסך כדי לקיים המצווה. וכיוון שחביבות מצוות על ישראל נהגו להוסיף למצוות הרביצה גם פיצוח גרעינים קליות ואגוזים, לגימת בירה ומתן הוראות לשחקנים, ומתפללים שייעשה להם נס וישמעו השחקנים את הוראותיהם דרך המסך.
5. אין צופין במונדיאל אלא בחבורה, וממנים את הקטן שביניהם לסינג'ור והוא המוציא והמביא להם בירות מן המקרר, ומי שצופה לבדו אין לו חלק לעולם הבא וסופו שמפספס כל הגולים כשמביא בעצמו הבירה. בשעת הדחק יש להתיר לצפות ביחיד, אולם העושה כן יקפיד להתקשר מדי ח"י רגעים לחבריו כדי לשאול: "ראית את זה???".
6. מאימתי צופין? משלב הבתים ועד לגמר. ויש אומרים: משלב הבתים ועד שלב הרס הבתים, כשנוטשת אשתו את הבית ועוברת לגור אצל אמה. במקצת קהילות נהגו לצפות במשחקי הנוקאאוט בלבד, ולא טוב הם עושים, שככל שמתקדם המונדיאל הולכים ומשתעממים משחקיו, שרעדה אוחזת ברגלי השחקנים ותחת להיות כגיבורים הכובשים את גוליהם, עומדים הם כחומה בצורה ואין מבקיעין כלל (בונקער בלע"ז).
7. אין צופין במונדיאל לא מתוך שחוק ולא מתוך קלות ראש אלא מתוך כורסה של מצווה, וטוב שיכוון ליבו למשחק, יבטל עצמו כליל, ולא יתיק עיניו מהמסך לא ימין ולא שמאל, שאם לא כן עובר ב"לא תתורו". הנצרך לנקביו באמצע משחק טוב שיתאפק וימתין למחצית עת מלהגגים הפרשנים במילתא דבדיחותא וזורקים זה לזה קלישאות קלישאות חבוטות חבוטות.
8. משנתרתקו הגברים לכורסאותיהם ואינם נעים ואינם זעים מהן, יוצאות הנשים לפזז ולכרכר בקעניונים, בלא גברים שידחקו בהן לסיים השופינג, ומנהג זה הוא בבחינת זה נהנה שאשתו לא בבית וזה חסר בחשבון הבנק. ומכל מקום טוב שתקפיד האשה על קיום הלכות שופינג בכל דקדוקיהן ופרטיהן ותרי"ג שקיות התלויות בהן.
9. תחילה נהגו ישראל להתחלק בין אוהדי ברזיל, אנגליה והולנד (אחינו הכתומים). משנתמרמרו כל צבועי העולם על המרמריס, ונמצאו כל אומות העולם שונאות לישראל, אין זה חשוב את מי יאהד, ובלבד שינקוט צד מבעוד מועד וידבק בו, שלא יהיה כפוסח על שתי הסעיפים מדי משחק.
10. ר' כילי אומר: כל המסכים כשרים לצפייה, אפילו מסך שפופרת יד' אינץ' מתקופת האנטימחיקון התחתון. ר' סקאל אומר: לא יפחת ממסך מהודר עשוי פלעזמה בגודל לב' אינץ', שאותיות HD כסופות חקוקות בחזיתו. מנהג המפרסמים ליפות סחורתם ולהכתירה בשלל תכונות הכתובות בצופן עשויה צירופי אותיות משונים, ובמיוחד נהגו להרבות במספר היציאות שבגב המסך, כדכתיב: יציאות המסך שתיים שהן ארבע. ועוד נהגו לפרסם את ניגודיות המסך, ולא ידעתי עניין הניגודיות מהו עד שהתנגדה אשתי שאקנה המסך.
11. שלושים יום לפני המונדיאל מעלין את מחירי כורסאות הטלוויזיה, המסכים, ושאר תשמישי הקדושה של המונדיאל, ברמ"ח אחוזים, כדי להורידם לאחר מכן במבצע של "עד 50%". מנהג נאה נהגו לכתוב את ה "50%" באותיות קידוש לבנה בגודל 42 אינץ', ואת ה"עד" באותיות טל ומטר בגודל מחצית האינץ' בלבד. ייזהר הציבור מאוד מרכישת אותם מסכים המפארים עצמם כ"מותג מוכר" ונמכרים במחצית מדמיהם של מסכים בעלי יחוס, שחזקה היא שאם היה המותג מוכר למישהו מלבד לזה המוכרו, הרי שהיו מפרסמים את שמו.
12. שבת הקודמת לפרוץ המונדיאל היא שבת הגדול, ונהגו לפרסם בה מוספי ספורט מגודלים הסוקרים כל אחד ואחד מאחד-עשר כוכביא של נבחרות העולם, ועושין מי שברך לפצועים. גדולי פרשני הדור עוסקים במלאכת הניחוש, וכל נבחרות העולם עוברות לפניהם כבני מרון, וכותבים את גזר דינן: מי תעלה ומי תודח, מי בנגיחה ומי בבעיטה, מי בפנדלים ומי בשער זהב, וסופם שנמצאים ניחושיהם כחרס הנשבר וכצל עובר וכחלום בלהות יעוף.
13. מצווה מן המובחר שלא לשחק במונדיאל בכדור שרגילין לשחק בו בשאר ימות השנה, אלא לייחד מבעוד מועד
כדור חדש שלא עלה עליו עול, ורגל אדם לא בעטה בו, בבחינת וישן מפני חדש תוציאו. על כן נהגו גדולי ישיבת ההנהלה של אדידעס לברוא מדי מונדיאל, יש מאין, כדור חדש בתכלית החידוש (ג'אבולעני בלע"ז), ובכל מקום שדבר הכדור החדש מגיע אבל גדול לכדורגלנים ומתבכיינים בקול גדול, וטוענים שגדולי אדידעס שמים עליהם שלושה פסים.
14. מודים אנו לקב"ה ששם חלקנו מהבועטים נעלי הבית כשיושבין על הכורסא ולא שם חלקנו מבועטי קרנות. שאנו משכימים לצפות במשחק של צפון הונדורס נגד דרום ניגריה, והם משכימים לעוד אימון כושר, אנו רצים למקרר להביא עוד בירה, והם רצים כמשוגעים אחר הכדור, אנו עמלים לפצח הפיסטוקים והם עמלים לפצח ההגנה של היריב.
15. מייד כשיסתיים משחק הגמר, יכבה את הפלעזמה, יקום מכורסתו, ינער היטב קליפות הפיסטוקים, ויאמר: יהי רצון שכשם שזכינו לצפות במונדיאל זה, כן נזכה לשחק במונדיאל הבא בכדור מעורו של לוייתן.
גיל סלוביק
1. נהגו אומות העולם להיאבק זו בזו מדי ד' שנים בכיבוש שערים עד אשר יימצא זה אשר הגביע בידו, כדכתיב: ובשנה הרביעית יהיה לכדור קודש הילולים למונדיאל. וכיוון שהכיבוש משחית הוא, נוהגים ישראל להחמיר ולא לכבוש שערים כלל, ותחת להתחרות במונדיאל, מסתפקים בצפייה בו, בבחינת אותו תראה ושמה לא תשחק.
2. מצוות הצפייה במונדיאל מצוות עשה שהזמן גרמא היא, ועל כן נוהגת בגברים בלבד, וטוב שיתכוון הגבר להוציא אשתו מהבית בזמן המשחק.
3. יש לצאת בכל תוקף כנגד אותן נשים שעושות עצמן כמתעניינות בכדורגל, ותחת להניח לנפשם של הגברים, מציקות הן בקושיות סבוכות על חוקי המשחק בדיוק כשמסי פורץ לרחבה, וידוע מאמר חז"ל כי המלמד את אשתו כדורגל כאילו מלמדה תיפלות, שהוא מלמדה פרק בהלכות נבדל והיא שואלתו על שום מה נבדלים צבעי מדי הנבחרות אלה מאלה, ואינה מכירה בין תכלת של ארגנטינה ללבן של אנגליה.
4. נתייחדה מצוות הצפייה במונדיאל, שעל אף שמצוות עשה היא, יש בה משום שב ואל תעשה, שדי לו לאדם שירבץ בכורסתו אל מול המסך כדי לקיים המצווה. וכיוון שחביבות מצוות על ישראל נהגו להוסיף למצוות הרביצה גם פיצוח גרעינים קליות ואגוזים, לגימת בירה ומתן הוראות לשחקנים, ומתפללים שייעשה להם נס וישמעו השחקנים את הוראותיהם דרך המסך.
5. אין צופין במונדיאל אלא בחבורה, וממנים את הקטן שביניהם לסינג'ור והוא המוציא והמביא להם בירות מן המקרר, ומי שצופה לבדו אין לו חלק לעולם הבא וסופו שמפספס כל הגולים כשמביא בעצמו הבירה. בשעת הדחק יש להתיר לצפות ביחיד, אולם העושה כן יקפיד להתקשר מדי ח"י רגעים לחבריו כדי לשאול: "ראית את זה???".
6. מאימתי צופין? משלב הבתים ועד לגמר. ויש אומרים: משלב הבתים ועד שלב הרס הבתים, כשנוטשת אשתו את הבית ועוברת לגור אצל אמה. במקצת קהילות נהגו לצפות במשחקי הנוקאאוט בלבד, ולא טוב הם עושים, שככל שמתקדם המונדיאל הולכים ומשתעממים משחקיו, שרעדה אוחזת ברגלי השחקנים ותחת להיות כגיבורים הכובשים את גוליהם, עומדים הם כחומה בצורה ואין מבקיעין כלל (בונקער בלע"ז).
7. אין צופין במונדיאל לא מתוך שחוק ולא מתוך קלות ראש אלא מתוך כורסה של מצווה, וטוב שיכוון ליבו למשחק, יבטל עצמו כליל, ולא יתיק עיניו מהמסך לא ימין ולא שמאל, שאם לא כן עובר ב"לא תתורו". הנצרך לנקביו באמצע משחק טוב שיתאפק וימתין למחצית עת מלהגגים הפרשנים במילתא דבדיחותא וזורקים זה לזה קלישאות קלישאות חבוטות חבוטות.
8. משנתרתקו הגברים לכורסאותיהם ואינם נעים ואינם זעים מהן, יוצאות הנשים לפזז ולכרכר בקעניונים, בלא גברים שידחקו בהן לסיים השופינג, ומנהג זה הוא בבחינת זה נהנה שאשתו לא בבית וזה חסר בחשבון הבנק. ומכל מקום טוב שתקפיד האשה על קיום הלכות שופינג בכל דקדוקיהן ופרטיהן ותרי"ג שקיות התלויות בהן.
9. תחילה נהגו ישראל להתחלק בין אוהדי ברזיל, אנגליה והולנד (אחינו הכתומים). משנתמרמרו כל צבועי העולם על המרמריס, ונמצאו כל אומות העולם שונאות לישראל, אין זה חשוב את מי יאהד, ובלבד שינקוט צד מבעוד מועד וידבק בו, שלא יהיה כפוסח על שתי הסעיפים מדי משחק.
10. ר' כילי אומר: כל המסכים כשרים לצפייה, אפילו מסך שפופרת יד' אינץ' מתקופת האנטימחיקון התחתון. ר' סקאל אומר: לא יפחת ממסך מהודר עשוי פלעזמה בגודל לב' אינץ', שאותיות HD כסופות חקוקות בחזיתו. מנהג המפרסמים ליפות סחורתם ולהכתירה בשלל תכונות הכתובות בצופן עשויה צירופי אותיות משונים, ובמיוחד נהגו להרבות במספר היציאות שבגב המסך, כדכתיב: יציאות המסך שתיים שהן ארבע. ועוד נהגו לפרסם את ניגודיות המסך, ולא ידעתי עניין הניגודיות מהו עד שהתנגדה אשתי שאקנה המסך.
11. שלושים יום לפני המונדיאל מעלין את מחירי כורסאות הטלוויזיה, המסכים, ושאר תשמישי הקדושה של המונדיאל, ברמ"ח אחוזים, כדי להורידם לאחר מכן במבצע של "עד 50%". מנהג נאה נהגו לכתוב את ה "50%" באותיות קידוש לבנה בגודל 42 אינץ', ואת ה"עד" באותיות טל ומטר בגודל מחצית האינץ' בלבד. ייזהר הציבור מאוד מרכישת אותם מסכים המפארים עצמם כ"מותג מוכר" ונמכרים במחצית מדמיהם של מסכים בעלי יחוס, שחזקה היא שאם היה המותג מוכר למישהו מלבד לזה המוכרו, הרי שהיו מפרסמים את שמו.
12. שבת הקודמת לפרוץ המונדיאל היא שבת הגדול, ונהגו לפרסם בה מוספי ספורט מגודלים הסוקרים כל אחד ואחד מאחד-עשר כוכביא של נבחרות העולם, ועושין מי שברך לפצועים. גדולי פרשני הדור עוסקים במלאכת הניחוש, וכל נבחרות העולם עוברות לפניהם כבני מרון, וכותבים את גזר דינן: מי תעלה ומי תודח, מי בנגיחה ומי בבעיטה, מי בפנדלים ומי בשער זהב, וסופם שנמצאים ניחושיהם כחרס הנשבר וכצל עובר וכחלום בלהות יעוף.
13. מצווה מן המובחר שלא לשחק במונדיאל בכדור שרגילין לשחק בו בשאר ימות השנה, אלא לייחד מבעוד מועד
כדור חדש שלא עלה עליו עול, ורגל אדם לא בעטה בו, בבחינת וישן מפני חדש תוציאו. על כן נהגו גדולי ישיבת ההנהלה של אדידעס לברוא מדי מונדיאל, יש מאין, כדור חדש בתכלית החידוש (ג'אבולעני בלע"ז), ובכל מקום שדבר הכדור החדש מגיע אבל גדול לכדורגלנים ומתבכיינים בקול גדול, וטוענים שגדולי אדידעס שמים עליהם שלושה פסים.
14. מודים אנו לקב"ה ששם חלקנו מהבועטים נעלי הבית כשיושבין על הכורסא ולא שם חלקנו מבועטי קרנות. שאנו משכימים לצפות במשחק של צפון הונדורס נגד דרום ניגריה, והם משכימים לעוד אימון כושר, אנו רצים למקרר להביא עוד בירה, והם רצים כמשוגעים אחר הכדור, אנו עמלים לפצח הפיסטוקים והם עמלים לפצח ההגנה של היריב.
15. מייד כשיסתיים משחק הגמר, יכבה את הפלעזמה, יקום מכורסתו, ינער היטב קליפות הפיסטוקים, ויאמר: יהי רצון שכשם שזכינו לצפות במונדיאל זה, כן נזכה לשחק במונדיאל הבא בכדור מעורו של לוייתן.
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Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Soccer
I once went to a Maccabi Haifa soccer game with a couple friends. (It was the infamous one where the Beitar fans cheered Yitzchak Rabin's assassination.) I expected the game to be boring - in 90 minutes of kicking the ball back and forth, a soccer game contains only a handful of scoring chances. But it was actually quite interesting to see the struggles for control of the ball, and the strategies for advancing it.
That said, I saw one big problem with that game - and with soccer in general. It often happens that one team clearly dominates the game from start to finish. But due to the extremely low scoring of soccer, chances are good that they don't actually score. And if the other team gets one lucky shot, or else a penalty shot, then the better team can easily end up losing 1-0.
A variation of that possibility has caused much controversy in the ongoing World Cup. A single momentary mistake by a "keeper" (apparently that's what they call goaltenders) results in a goal, dramatically changing the game and the team's entire fortunes in the World Cup. In the recent England-USA game, for example, from what I hear England clearly played better overall. But on one weak USA shot, the ball took an unusual bounce off the English keeper's hands and into the goal. (Some blame the bounce on problems with the ball.) Just like that, USA turned a predictable loss into a "stunning" tie against a much stronger team. A similar sequence occurred in the Slovenia-Algeria game. What is the value of 90 minutes of intense play when the game is really decided by half a second of random luck?
In other sports, it is certainly possible for luck to affect the outcome. Indeed, the two worst referee decisions in history went against teams from my home state. Each resulted in a win for the opposing team, which went on to win the national championship that year.
But as outrageous as these incidents were, they do not compare in impact to similar incidents occurring at soccer games. In both baseball and American football, it is normal for each team to score 5 or 6 times in a game. A bad call is unlikely to result in more than one undeserved score. If that score was enough to change the outcome, then the game was already quite close. If your team was clearly deserving of victory, it would not have failed in its previous chances to create a large lead that no single error could eliminate.
In soccer, that is not the case. One goal is all a team normally scores, and it is also the margin of error caused by unluckly circumstances such as referee mistakes. Thus, it is much more likely that undeserved circumstances will decide the outcome of the game. That cheapens the effort put forth by the players throughout the game. In my mind, this characteristic makes soccer a less compelling sport than many of its competitors.
That said, I saw one big problem with that game - and with soccer in general. It often happens that one team clearly dominates the game from start to finish. But due to the extremely low scoring of soccer, chances are good that they don't actually score. And if the other team gets one lucky shot, or else a penalty shot, then the better team can easily end up losing 1-0.
A variation of that possibility has caused much controversy in the ongoing World Cup. A single momentary mistake by a "keeper" (apparently that's what they call goaltenders) results in a goal, dramatically changing the game and the team's entire fortunes in the World Cup. In the recent England-USA game, for example, from what I hear England clearly played better overall. But on one weak USA shot, the ball took an unusual bounce off the English keeper's hands and into the goal. (Some blame the bounce on problems with the ball.) Just like that, USA turned a predictable loss into a "stunning" tie against a much stronger team. A similar sequence occurred in the Slovenia-Algeria game. What is the value of 90 minutes of intense play when the game is really decided by half a second of random luck?
In other sports, it is certainly possible for luck to affect the outcome. Indeed, the two worst referee decisions in history went against teams from my home state. Each resulted in a win for the opposing team, which went on to win the national championship that year.
But as outrageous as these incidents were, they do not compare in impact to similar incidents occurring at soccer games. In both baseball and American football, it is normal for each team to score 5 or 6 times in a game. A bad call is unlikely to result in more than one undeserved score. If that score was enough to change the outcome, then the game was already quite close. If your team was clearly deserving of victory, it would not have failed in its previous chances to create a large lead that no single error could eliminate.
In soccer, that is not the case. One goal is all a team normally scores, and it is also the margin of error caused by unluckly circumstances such as referee mistakes. Thus, it is much more likely that undeserved circumstances will decide the outcome of the game. That cheapens the effort put forth by the players throughout the game. In my mind, this characteristic makes soccer a less compelling sport than many of its competitors.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
Husband, wife, and shechina
"Husband and wife – if they merit, God's presence is found between them." (Sota 17a)
I can recall my parents occasionally having arguments, sometimes bitter, with each other when I was growing up. But personally, I almost never get into arguments with anyone. How is this? Am I really a better person than they are?
The more I learn about life, the clearer it is that the answer is not a quick and satisfying “yes”. The reason I do not argue is simple, and reflects my circumstances more than my character.
It is often hard to know what a single person is thinking. People have many reasons to keep their thoughts private. But in a marriage, much more so than any other relationship between individuals, thoughts do not remain private. They are shared verbally with one's partner.
The arguments which I occasionally witnessed in my family, and which are probably present in every family, are the result of frustration and anger. I certainly do experience these emotions sometimes. But I generally keep them to myself. If I were married, things would be different. I would much more readily express negative emotions to my wife than to other people. She might respond negatively, again more readily, and I might reciprocate. And just like that, we would get into a fight. The negative character traits which caused this fight were always part of each of us. But only when we were together would they express themselves in words and actions, immediately visible to anyone around us. Right now, I do easily not get into arguments and fights. But once I'm married (or in a sufficiently serious relationship), I can expect to do so more often.
What is true for negative character traits, like selfishness and cruelty, is also true for positive ones. With one's spouse, these positive traits too will be expressed more openly, and visibly to people other than the married couple.
In my opinion, this is the basis of the gemara saying that God's presence dwells between the husband and wife.
Apparently there is some set of Godly actions and attitudes – love, generosity, kindness, and so on – that wherever they are present, we say that the Divine presence is there as well. Each person, living by themselves, may possess these character traits, and thus we call them a holy or Godly person. But this Divine presence is private, as the character traits generally are. When husband and wife with these character traits are together, the traits are most strongly and visibly expressed, and the holiness become shared and evident between them.
There is a famous Romantic poem entitled “She walks in beauty”. It is not obvious whether a woman's beauty is part of her, or part of the mind of the man gazing at her. Either way, surely the beauty is present whenever he sees her. Therefore, he may speak of her walking “in” the beauty, it being part of the fabric of the situation in which they meet. We may speak the same way of God's presence dwelling between a married couple. When they interact with each other, treating each other with kindness and respect, the situation is one of Divine attributes and Divine presence. We cannot say that God is physically located anywhere, but when husband and wife treat each other this way, Godliness is surely an element of their interaction.
I can recall my parents occasionally having arguments, sometimes bitter, with each other when I was growing up. But personally, I almost never get into arguments with anyone. How is this? Am I really a better person than they are?
The more I learn about life, the clearer it is that the answer is not a quick and satisfying “yes”. The reason I do not argue is simple, and reflects my circumstances more than my character.
It is often hard to know what a single person is thinking. People have many reasons to keep their thoughts private. But in a marriage, much more so than any other relationship between individuals, thoughts do not remain private. They are shared verbally with one's partner.
The arguments which I occasionally witnessed in my family, and which are probably present in every family, are the result of frustration and anger. I certainly do experience these emotions sometimes. But I generally keep them to myself. If I were married, things would be different. I would much more readily express negative emotions to my wife than to other people. She might respond negatively, again more readily, and I might reciprocate. And just like that, we would get into a fight. The negative character traits which caused this fight were always part of each of us. But only when we were together would they express themselves in words and actions, immediately visible to anyone around us. Right now, I do easily not get into arguments and fights. But once I'm married (or in a sufficiently serious relationship), I can expect to do so more often.
What is true for negative character traits, like selfishness and cruelty, is also true for positive ones. With one's spouse, these positive traits too will be expressed more openly, and visibly to people other than the married couple.
In my opinion, this is the basis of the gemara saying that God's presence dwells between the husband and wife.
Apparently there is some set of Godly actions and attitudes – love, generosity, kindness, and so on – that wherever they are present, we say that the Divine presence is there as well. Each person, living by themselves, may possess these character traits, and thus we call them a holy or Godly person. But this Divine presence is private, as the character traits generally are. When husband and wife with these character traits are together, the traits are most strongly and visibly expressed, and the holiness become shared and evident between them.
There is a famous Romantic poem entitled “She walks in beauty”. It is not obvious whether a woman's beauty is part of her, or part of the mind of the man gazing at her. Either way, surely the beauty is present whenever he sees her. Therefore, he may speak of her walking “in” the beauty, it being part of the fabric of the situation in which they meet. We may speak the same way of God's presence dwelling between a married couple. When they interact with each other, treating each other with kindness and respect, the situation is one of Divine attributes and Divine presence. We cannot say that God is physically located anywhere, but when husband and wife treat each other this way, Godliness is surely an element of their interaction.
How much is a pruta?
The halachic pruta is equivalent to the value of 0.022 grams of silver. (0.025 grams according to a different opinion). (Source)
0.022 grams = 0.000776 ounces (Source)
0.000776 ounces silver = 5.5 agorot (Source)
0.000776 ounces silver = 1.4 cents (Source)
The price of silver, and thus the value of a pruta, may change with time. You should always be able to re-click the last two links to get an updated figure.
This was on my mind because of its relevance for maaser sheni.
0.022 grams = 0.000776 ounces (Source)
0.000776 ounces silver = 5.5 agorot (Source)
0.000776 ounces silver = 1.4 cents (Source)
The price of silver, and thus the value of a pruta, may change with time. You should always be able to re-click the last two links to get an updated figure.
This was on my mind because of its relevance for maaser sheni.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
The Gaza boat incident
Some thoughts:
1) Every IDF soldier should have a video camera mounted on their helmet. EVERY scene of conflict must be recorded, and immediately prepared and (if useful) released for publication by a PR crew on duty 24/7. (UPDATE: Apparently this kind of mechanism exists and just wasn't used.)
2) Right now Israel has "peace" (i.e. diplomatic relations) with several Muslim countries, including Egypt and Turkey. At the same time, both Egypt and Turkey are knowingly aiding military action against Israel. Egypt chooses not to stop arms smuggling into Gaza, and Turkey allowed boats containing weapons and hostile personnel to set out for Gaza. Once upon a time, before all the "peace" agreements, we could prevent this kind of action by threatening or using military force, both retaliatory and preventive. Now we can't. "Peace" means that we cannot do anything to prevent actual war which is being conducted against us. Perhaps we would be better off ending these "peace" agreements.
3) As isolated as Israel is now, historically it was much more isolated. The UN "Zionism is racism" resolution, for example, was only repealed in 1991. Israel has always been a pariah state, except from about 1991-2008. One important reason for this is obvious. The US, the only country ever willing to admit to being an Israeli ally, was the unchallenged single superpower during this period. Before 1991 it was balanced by the Soviet Union; now it is increasingly balanced by China and the rest of "BRIC". Israeli isolation is natural, since its existence is opposed by 60+ Muslim states who control the world's oil. So regardless of its policy choices, Israel will have to get used to being isolated. It survived isolation beforehand, and will again.
4) As usual, the IDF operation was labeled "disproportionate". That term is actually not a bad first reaction to the events. After all, when we killed 10 of them and they killed zero of us, isn't it obvious we were more aggressive? Shouldn't we have stopped and claimed victory once the body count was 8-0 or 9-0? We reply that the 10th casualty (like the 9th and 8th) was still a lethal threat to IDF soldiers, and could not be stopped in any other way. But that argument relies on facts, many of them unverifiable, which our enemies simply deny.
Another necessary approach may be to question the whole idea of disproportionality. Perhaps such an argument goes as follows. Supposedly a 10-0 body count is wrong because it is "disproportionate". If so, then if the body count were 10-10, the IDF would be morally justified. Effectively, the only way for IDF soldiers to be morally justified in their actions is to die. The only moral Israeli is a dead Israeli. The doctrine of disproportionality inherently leads to that conclusion, and a doctrine that implies obviously wrong conclusions cannot in itself be correct. This argument is emotional as well as logical, and must be presented as such. Hearing the rhetorical question "Must Israelis die in order for Israel to be considered moral?" from an Israeli leader could do a lot to reframe the debate in a more sensible direction.
5) As for general Israeli policy, this article presents my exact position, more elegantly than I could have.
1) Every IDF soldier should have a video camera mounted on their helmet. EVERY scene of conflict must be recorded, and immediately prepared and (if useful) released for publication by a PR crew on duty 24/7. (UPDATE: Apparently this kind of mechanism exists and just wasn't used.)
2) Right now Israel has "peace" (i.e. diplomatic relations) with several Muslim countries, including Egypt and Turkey. At the same time, both Egypt and Turkey are knowingly aiding military action against Israel. Egypt chooses not to stop arms smuggling into Gaza, and Turkey allowed boats containing weapons and hostile personnel to set out for Gaza. Once upon a time, before all the "peace" agreements, we could prevent this kind of action by threatening or using military force, both retaliatory and preventive. Now we can't. "Peace" means that we cannot do anything to prevent actual war which is being conducted against us. Perhaps we would be better off ending these "peace" agreements.
3) As isolated as Israel is now, historically it was much more isolated. The UN "Zionism is racism" resolution, for example, was only repealed in 1991. Israel has always been a pariah state, except from about 1991-2008. One important reason for this is obvious. The US, the only country ever willing to admit to being an Israeli ally, was the unchallenged single superpower during this period. Before 1991 it was balanced by the Soviet Union; now it is increasingly balanced by China and the rest of "BRIC". Israeli isolation is natural, since its existence is opposed by 60+ Muslim states who control the world's oil. So regardless of its policy choices, Israel will have to get used to being isolated. It survived isolation beforehand, and will again.
4) As usual, the IDF operation was labeled "disproportionate". That term is actually not a bad first reaction to the events. After all, when we killed 10 of them and they killed zero of us, isn't it obvious we were more aggressive? Shouldn't we have stopped and claimed victory once the body count was 8-0 or 9-0? We reply that the 10th casualty (like the 9th and 8th) was still a lethal threat to IDF soldiers, and could not be stopped in any other way. But that argument relies on facts, many of them unverifiable, which our enemies simply deny.
Another necessary approach may be to question the whole idea of disproportionality. Perhaps such an argument goes as follows. Supposedly a 10-0 body count is wrong because it is "disproportionate". If so, then if the body count were 10-10, the IDF would be morally justified. Effectively, the only way for IDF soldiers to be morally justified in their actions is to die. The only moral Israeli is a dead Israeli. The doctrine of disproportionality inherently leads to that conclusion, and a doctrine that implies obviously wrong conclusions cannot in itself be correct. This argument is emotional as well as logical, and must be presented as such. Hearing the rhetorical question "Must Israelis die in order for Israel to be considered moral?" from an Israeli leader could do a lot to reframe the debate in a more sensible direction.
5) As for general Israeli policy, this article presents my exact position, more elegantly than I could have.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Communication
To send a message to someone, you must often speak twice.
The first time, you open their heart, making them receptive to what you are saying. Only after can you successfully communicate to them the content of your message.
-R' Amital
The first time, you open their heart, making them receptive to what you are saying. Only after can you successfully communicate to them the content of your message.
-R' Amital
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Timtum halev
Do not make yourselves disgusting through all the swarming creatures, and do not make yourself impure through them, venitmetem (ונטמתם) through them. (Vayikra 11:43)
What does “venitmetem” mean? The most obvious explanation is that it means “and you shall become impure”, being derived from the word “tamei”. That fits well with the theme of impurity which is a central aspect of the kosher-animal chapter, though it does seem redundant, since impurity was already mentioned in the previous phrase. (The problem with this explanation is that “tamei” has the letter alef in it, and “venitmetem” does not. However, there are cases in Tanach where an alef disappears from the spelling of a word, since it is not pronounced. This could be another such case.)
Ibn Ezra on the verse cites the above explanation, but then brings an alternative. “Some say they [tamei, venitmetem] are two different roots, as in [נטמינו בעיניכם], its meaning being, like a person who does not have wisdom.” If so, then the verse should be translated: “...and do not make yourself impure through them, and become foolish through them.”
This grammatical understanding may be the “pshat” basis for the idea of “timtum halev”. As for what the idea actually means, well, that's beyond the scope of this post. But you can find an interesting discussion here.
What does “venitmetem” mean? The most obvious explanation is that it means “and you shall become impure”, being derived from the word “tamei”. That fits well with the theme of impurity which is a central aspect of the kosher-animal chapter, though it does seem redundant, since impurity was already mentioned in the previous phrase. (The problem with this explanation is that “tamei” has the letter alef in it, and “venitmetem” does not. However, there are cases in Tanach where an alef disappears from the spelling of a word, since it is not pronounced. This could be another such case.)
Ibn Ezra on the verse cites the above explanation, but then brings an alternative. “Some say they [tamei, venitmetem] are two different roots, as in [נטמינו בעיניכם], its meaning being, like a person who does not have wisdom.” If so, then the verse should be translated: “...and do not make yourself impure through them, and become foolish through them.”
This grammatical understanding may be the “pshat” basis for the idea of “timtum halev”. As for what the idea actually means, well, that's beyond the scope of this post. But you can find an interesting discussion here.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Yom Yerushalayim
"They spoke of thousands of deaths; there were no bomb shelters. Calls came from the diaspora to send abroad the women and children. On the 8th of Iyar, the entire army was mobilized and there were two weeks of waiting. There were throngs of prayers by Jews of every kind and variety. My daughter told me that in school they did not learn a thing - they only recited tehilim. On Friday night, after the meal, people gathered in the synagogue to say tehilim. There was discomfort and apprehension that are difficult to describe. The danger was felt. ... There was a feeling of Erev Yom Kippur. People looked at each other with love and affection. And then the redemption came."
(Source)
(Source)
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Virginia lacrosse
The gemara says that the law of ben sorer umoreh was never applied and never will be. That is unfortunate, because at least one person seems to have deserved it.
(This incident also makes it easier to understand the Torah's death penalty for hitting/cursing parents.)
(This incident also makes it easier to understand the Torah's death penalty for hitting/cursing parents.)
Friday, May 07, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Zachor and Shamor
The Ten Commandments appear twice in the Torah, in Shemot and Devarim. One of the most notable differences between the two appearances is in the 4th command, regarding Shabbat. In Shemot the command is introduced by the word Zachor ("Remember the Sabbath"), while in Devarim it is introduced by Shamor ("Guard the Sabbath").
Why do these two different verbs appear in what one would expect to be identical texts? Ibn Ezra (in Shemot) provides one, rather radical answer. He says that the Torah's text is reliable in terms of its ideas, but not in its wording. He also says that the words "zachor" and "shamor" have the same meaning. (After all, what does it mean to "remember", other than to "guard" a thought in your mind?) Thus, it doesn't matter which of the two words the Torah uses. One of the words is "wrong" in that God didn't actually say that word at Sinai. But because the written Torah only cares about meaning and not wording, that discrepancy is unimportant.
That is quite an interesting theory, but it is not the mainstream one taken by Chazal and later Jewish thought. The mainstream approach, immortalized in the song Lecha Dodi, is "Shamor vezachor bedibur echad". That is, the words Shamor and Zachor convey different meanings, and somehow both meanings were conveyed at Sinai. Furthermore, the meaning of each word can be identified. Zachor refers to the positive mitzvot of Shabbat, while Shamor refers to the negative ones.
I think we can explain clearly the reasons for this identification, as follows.
How do we know that Zachor refers to positive mitzvot? I suspect we can derive this by looking at cases in which the verb "lizkor" is used regarding God. For example, God remembers a covenant, remembers a barren woman, and so on. If a person remembers something, it is because they previously forgotten it. We cannot use the same interpretation regarding God. Rather, God was always conscious of the covenant and the barren woman. But only at this moment did God take action regarding them. Thus, to "remember" implies action, and by extension, the performance of positive commandments.
How do we know that Shamor refers to negative mitzvot? The answer comes from Vayikra 18:30, which states regarding the sexual prohibitions: "You shall guard my guard, to not do the abominable practices that were done [by the people living in Canaan] before you, and you shall not become impure through them, I am Hashem your God." Thus, to "guard the guard" means to "not do" - to avoid certain actions. In effect it means to guard yourself, to prevent yourself from doing certain things. This usage is extended to "Shamor et yom hashabbat", implying that one not do the actions which are prohibited on Shabbat.
Why do these two different verbs appear in what one would expect to be identical texts? Ibn Ezra (in Shemot) provides one, rather radical answer. He says that the Torah's text is reliable in terms of its ideas, but not in its wording. He also says that the words "zachor" and "shamor" have the same meaning. (After all, what does it mean to "remember", other than to "guard" a thought in your mind?) Thus, it doesn't matter which of the two words the Torah uses. One of the words is "wrong" in that God didn't actually say that word at Sinai. But because the written Torah only cares about meaning and not wording, that discrepancy is unimportant.
That is quite an interesting theory, but it is not the mainstream one taken by Chazal and later Jewish thought. The mainstream approach, immortalized in the song Lecha Dodi, is "Shamor vezachor bedibur echad". That is, the words Shamor and Zachor convey different meanings, and somehow both meanings were conveyed at Sinai. Furthermore, the meaning of each word can be identified. Zachor refers to the positive mitzvot of Shabbat, while Shamor refers to the negative ones.
I think we can explain clearly the reasons for this identification, as follows.
How do we know that Zachor refers to positive mitzvot? I suspect we can derive this by looking at cases in which the verb "lizkor" is used regarding God. For example, God remembers a covenant, remembers a barren woman, and so on. If a person remembers something, it is because they previously forgotten it. We cannot use the same interpretation regarding God. Rather, God was always conscious of the covenant and the barren woman. But only at this moment did God take action regarding them. Thus, to "remember" implies action, and by extension, the performance of positive commandments.
How do we know that Shamor refers to negative mitzvot? The answer comes from Vayikra 18:30, which states regarding the sexual prohibitions: "You shall guard my guard, to not do the abominable practices that were done [by the people living in Canaan] before you, and you shall not become impure through them, I am Hashem your God." Thus, to "guard the guard" means to "not do" - to avoid certain actions. In effect it means to guard yourself, to prevent yourself from doing certain things. This usage is extended to "Shamor et yom hashabbat", implying that one not do the actions which are prohibited on Shabbat.
Two Yudim
Last shabbat I heard the following dvar torah (from Y.C., age approx. 12), apparently in connection to the mitzva in last week's parsha of "veahavta lereacha kamocha".
A certain chasidic rebbe told the story of how he learned to read when he was a kid. In his school, or "cheder", they taught him to read from a chumash. He read correctly until he came to two letters yud, one next to the other. He pronounced this literally - at which point the teacher corrected him. "Whenever there are two yuds like that, it means to say the name of God." The kid did so, and kept reading.
Then, he got to the end of a verse. It was punctuated with a colon - two vertical dots, which looked like yuds. So he said the name of God again. And the teacher corrected him. "No, that's not the name of God. That's the end of the verse."
From this exchange, the kid learned a moral lesson. Whenever there are two yudim (=Yehudim) on the same level as each other, God's name is present in the world. Whenever there are two yudim, one above the other, it is like the end.
A certain chasidic rebbe told the story of how he learned to read when he was a kid. In his school, or "cheder", they taught him to read from a chumash. He read correctly until he came to two letters yud, one next to the other. He pronounced this literally - at which point the teacher corrected him. "Whenever there are two yuds like that, it means to say the name of God." The kid did so, and kept reading.
Then, he got to the end of a verse. It was punctuated with a colon - two vertical dots, which looked like yuds. So he said the name of God again. And the teacher corrected him. "No, that's not the name of God. That's the end of the verse."
From this exchange, the kid learned a moral lesson. Whenever there are two yudim (=Yehudim) on the same level as each other, God's name is present in the world. Whenever there are two yudim, one above the other, it is like the end.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Yeshivat Shem VeEver
Rashi on Breishit 28:9 says that Yaakov spent 14 years in the yeshiva of Shem and Ever. I want to explain this Rashi and its implications, and also explain briefly how we can understand Breishit without adopting this Rashi.
According to Breishit 28:9, Esav married Machalat, "daughter of Yishmael son of Avraham, sister of Nevayot". Why does the verse mention both Machalat's father and brother?
The midrash's answer is that Yishmael died right around the time of Machalat's marriage. Thus, immediately beforehand she was part of the family run by Yishmael, and immediately afterwards she was part of the family run by Yishmael's oldest son, Nevayot. Thus she is mentioned in relation to both Yishmael and Nevayot.
If so, then Esav's marriage took place at the same time as Yishmael's death. It seems from chapter 28 that Esav's marriage took place shortly after Yaakov stole the blessings and fled home. How old was Yaakov when this happened? Yishmael died at age 137. Yitzchak, who was 14 years younger than Yishmael (they were born to Avraham at ages 86 and 100), was age 123 at the time. Yitzchak fathered Yaakov at age 60, thus Yaakov was age 63 when he left home.
How old was Yaakov when he arrived in Haran? When Yaakov arrived in Egypt he was 130 years old. Yosef was 39 years old at the time (30 years old when Pharaoh promoted him, 7 years of plenty, 2 years of famine.) Thus Yaakov was 91 when Yosef was born. Yosef was born right about the time Yaakov finished his 14 years of service to Lavan. Thus Yaakov was 77 when he arrived in Haran.
According to the above logic, 14 years (77-63) are missing between when Yaakov left and when he arrived. What did Yaakov do for this period? The logical choice for an "ish tam yoshev ohalim", one who dwelt in the tents of Torah as Chazal understand it, would be to learn in yeshiva for this period.
How do we know that the yeshiva was run by Shem and Ever? The assumption here seems to be that some holy tradition, let us call it "Torah", was passed down through the generations prior to Avraham. Noach passed the tradition to his (most righteous?) son Shem. When Shem died, his oldest living descendent was Ever. When Yaakov went to Haran, Ever was still alive (Shem had recently died). If Yaakov wanted to learn this tradition, he would do best to go to Ever, who himself had learned from Shem. Thus, the midrash refers to the yeshiva of Shem and Ever.
If you think the whole idea of 14 missing, unmentioned years does violence to the pshat of Sefer Breishit, there is hope for you. One can think of other explanations of the Yishmael/Nevayot verbosity, in which Yaakov went directly to Haran, and Yishmael died 14 years before Esav's marriage. Here are two possibilities:
According to Breishit 28:9, Esav married Machalat, "daughter of Yishmael son of Avraham, sister of Nevayot". Why does the verse mention both Machalat's father and brother?
The midrash's answer is that Yishmael died right around the time of Machalat's marriage. Thus, immediately beforehand she was part of the family run by Yishmael, and immediately afterwards she was part of the family run by Yishmael's oldest son, Nevayot. Thus she is mentioned in relation to both Yishmael and Nevayot.
If so, then Esav's marriage took place at the same time as Yishmael's death. It seems from chapter 28 that Esav's marriage took place shortly after Yaakov stole the blessings and fled home. How old was Yaakov when this happened? Yishmael died at age 137. Yitzchak, who was 14 years younger than Yishmael (they were born to Avraham at ages 86 and 100), was age 123 at the time. Yitzchak fathered Yaakov at age 60, thus Yaakov was age 63 when he left home.
How old was Yaakov when he arrived in Haran? When Yaakov arrived in Egypt he was 130 years old. Yosef was 39 years old at the time (30 years old when Pharaoh promoted him, 7 years of plenty, 2 years of famine.) Thus Yaakov was 91 when Yosef was born. Yosef was born right about the time Yaakov finished his 14 years of service to Lavan. Thus Yaakov was 77 when he arrived in Haran.
According to the above logic, 14 years (77-63) are missing between when Yaakov left and when he arrived. What did Yaakov do for this period? The logical choice for an "ish tam yoshev ohalim", one who dwelt in the tents of Torah as Chazal understand it, would be to learn in yeshiva for this period.
How do we know that the yeshiva was run by Shem and Ever? The assumption here seems to be that some holy tradition, let us call it "Torah", was passed down through the generations prior to Avraham. Noach passed the tradition to his (most righteous?) son Shem. When Shem died, his oldest living descendent was Ever. When Yaakov went to Haran, Ever was still alive (Shem had recently died). If Yaakov wanted to learn this tradition, he would do best to go to Ever, who himself had learned from Shem. Thus, the midrash refers to the yeshiva of Shem and Ever.
If you think the whole idea of 14 missing, unmentioned years does violence to the pshat of Sefer Breishit, there is hope for you. One can think of other explanations of the Yishmael/Nevayot verbosity, in which Yaakov went directly to Haran, and Yishmael died 14 years before Esav's marriage. Here are two possibilities:
- Since Yishmael was dead, Nevayot is mentioned because he is the one who married off Machalat. (Yishmael is mentioned to indicate the family relation. Nevayot is an obscure character, and mentioning him would not make the relation clear enough.)
- Yishmael had multiple wives, and verse 28:9 wanted to emphasize that Esav's wife came from the highest-status branch of Yishmael's family. (Verse 21:21 mentions only one wife of Yishmael [an Egyptian woman]. But the point is likely to illustrate Yishmael's distancing from Avraham's family, rather than to provide a complete description of his family life.)
Sunday, April 11, 2010
250 plagues at the sea
R' Yose Haglili says: How do we know that the Egyptians suffered 10 plagues in Egypt and on the see they suffered 50 plagues? In Egypt what does it say? “The magicians said to Pharaoh: It is the finger of God.” (Shemot 8:15) On the sea what does it say? “Israel saw the great hand which Hashem did to Egypt, and the people feared Hashem, and believed in Hashem and in Moshe His servant.” (14:31) How many did they suffer in Egypt? 10 plagues. Say thus: In Egypt they suffered 10 plagues; on the see they suffered 50 plagues.
R' Eliezer says: How do we know that each plague that the Holy One (Blessed be He) brought on the Egyptians in Egypt consisted of four plagues? It says “He sent among them the fierceness of His anger: wrath, and indignation, and trouble, a sending of messengers of evil.” – wrath (1), indignation (2), trouble (3), sending of evil messengers (4). Therefore say: In Egypt they suffered 40 plagues, on the see they suffered 200 plagues.
R' Akiva says: How do we know that each plague that the Holy One (Blessed be He) brought on the Egyptians in Egypt consisted of five plagues? It says “He sent among them the fierceness of His anger, wrath, and indignation, and trouble, a sending of messengers of evil.” – fierceness of his anger (1), wrath (2), indignation (3), trouble (4), sending of evil messengers (5). Therefore say: In Egypt they suffered 50 plagues, on the see they suffered 250 plagues.
This midrash, which we say each Pesach in the Haggadah, seems hard to accept. When did all these additional plagues take place, what did they consist of, and why are they not mentioned in the Torah? In this post I will try to analyze the meaning of this midrash.
From 10 to 50
The 10 plagues (or at least one of them) are referred to as "the finger of God" (8:15), while the splitting of the sea is called "the great 'hand' which Hashem did" (14:31). Each hand has five fingers, so the Haggadah concludes that the splitting of the sea was five times as great as the 10 plagues, i.e. 50 plagues.
The problem with this analysis is that the metaphor of God's hand is also used to describe the 10 plagues. The best-known example is in reference to the 5th plague: "Behold, the hand of Hashem is among your cattle in the field" (9:3). God's hand also refers to the 10 plagues in verses 3:20, 6:1, and 13:9. If the 10 plagues are a "hand" and the splitting of the sea also a "hand", shouldn't the latter be considered as 10 plagues rather than 50?
For this reason, I think the discussion of fingers and hands is simply a memory tool for an idea which actually derives from deeper, thematic reasons. Specifically, many of the 10 plagues were not especially miraculous. The splitting of the sea, on the other hand, was clearly miraculous. Therefore it is considered greater, and thus equal to many more plagues.
Proposed “natural” explanations for many of the plagues are well known. Here are some examples. Perhaps, the "bloody" Nile was caused by an abnormal growth of algae (a "crimson tide"). Frogs were forced to leave the algae-infested river, and many ended up in human habitations. When the frogs died (far from their natural habitat), the insects and animals feeding on their corpses made up the next two plagues. All the decaying flesh led to diseases which killed the cattle and then attacked humans. Hail and locusts are natural phenomena, and perhaps the darkness "which could be felt" refers to an intense sandstorm.
(Sometimes these explanations are brought in an attempt to show that God was not really involved in the Exodus. That conclusion is untenable. Certain aspects of the plagues – for example, the timing, and complete sparing of the Israelites – cannot be explained by any natural phenomenon. And even if they could, there is no way that Moshe could reliably predict them. Anyway, the fact that undeniable miracles occurred later on is sufficient evidence of Divine involvement. Unless you simply reject the truthfulness of the Biblical text, there is no way of avoiding God's role and intentions in the Exodus. Therefore, we should feel free to consider “natural” explanations of the plagues, without feeling that they may undermine our faith.)
Moreover, the Egyptians' reaction shows that the plagues were not so miraculous. The Egyptian magicians were able to duplicate the first few plagues (albeit on a smaller scale). Partly based on this, Pharaoh decided to ignore Moshe and Aharon's demands. Even later on, the complaint to Pharaoh is "Do you not yet know that Egypt is destroyed?" (10:7) rather than something like "Do you not yet know that Hashem is God and therefore worth listening to?" Perhaps the purpose of the non-miraculous plagues was to preserve Egyptian free will. If the plagues were obviously miraculous, nobody could avoid learning the desired lessons from them. With less miraculous plagues, stubborn and selfish Egyptians who did not want to lose their Israelite slaves would find some rationalization for ignoring the plagues.
After the Israelites left Egypt, this reason no longer applied. It was no longer necessary that the Egyptians have free will, so no limits were placed on the miraculousness of the ensuing events. This is most evident at the splitting of the sea. No natural phenomenon could conceivable cause the water to form “a wall for them, on their right and on their left”. That was a visible, ongoing, and dramatic violation of the law of gravity.
The magicians call one plague "the finger of God", yet the Haggadah refers to all 10 plagues as a single finger, rather than 10 fingers. Perhaps this implies that the "number of fingers" refers not to the count of miraculous events, but to the degree of miraculousness of whatever is taking place. That fits well with the splitting of the sea, which was one event rather than 50, but was certainly several times as miraculous as anything that preceded it.
From 50 to 200 or 250
How then do we understand the second part of the midrash, in which the number of plagues is multiplied once again by a factor of 4 or 5? To answer this we must provide the relevant verse in its full context (Tehilim 78:42-51):
In total 7 out of 10 plagues are mentioned in this passage (plagues 3,6,9 are omitted, perhaps because they were the only plagues not announced to Pharaoh – see here). Alongside the relatively straightforward descriptions of the plagues, there is one verse which discusses no plague in particular. This verse, shown in bold above, is the same one used by the Haggadah.
If this verse is not a mention of one plague, perhaps it is a general description of what happened in each of the plagues. If so, then “fierceness of His anger; wrath; indignation; trouble; sending of messengers of evil” are five aspects of each plague. Thus the 10 plagues become 50, and the 50 plagues at the sea 250. That is the basis of R' Akiva's opinion.
According to R' Eliezer, though, “fierceness of his anger” is a general description of the other four aspects, rather than being an aspect of its own. (Presumably he says this because “fierceness of his anger” is not followed by the word “and”, implying that it is a prefix to the list of aspects, rather than part of the list. R' Akiva would reply that use of the word “and” in Tanach is not always consistent – see Ibn Ezra to Shemot 1:4. Note how my translations of the verse at the top of this post reflect each rabbi's interpretation.) Thus, according to R' Eliezer, each plague has only four aspects, and the numbers of plagues become 40 and 200 respectively.
You may object to this analysis, in that a plague remains one plague even if there is more than one aspect to it. Perhaps, but as we saw with the splitting of the sea, in this midrash numbers of plagues do not really refer to the number of events. Rather, they refer to how wonderful the plague was. And the whole point of these “multiplication tables” is to recognize the greatness of the existing plagues, not to introduce new plagues that were not mentioned in the text.
R' Eliezer says: How do we know that each plague that the Holy One (Blessed be He) brought on the Egyptians in Egypt consisted of four plagues? It says “He sent among them the fierceness of His anger: wrath, and indignation, and trouble, a sending of messengers of evil.” – wrath (1), indignation (2), trouble (3), sending of evil messengers (4). Therefore say: In Egypt they suffered 40 plagues, on the see they suffered 200 plagues.
R' Akiva says: How do we know that each plague that the Holy One (Blessed be He) brought on the Egyptians in Egypt consisted of five plagues? It says “He sent among them the fierceness of His anger, wrath, and indignation, and trouble, a sending of messengers of evil.” – fierceness of his anger (1), wrath (2), indignation (3), trouble (4), sending of evil messengers (5). Therefore say: In Egypt they suffered 50 plagues, on the see they suffered 250 plagues.
This midrash, which we say each Pesach in the Haggadah, seems hard to accept. When did all these additional plagues take place, what did they consist of, and why are they not mentioned in the Torah? In this post I will try to analyze the meaning of this midrash.
From 10 to 50
The 10 plagues (or at least one of them) are referred to as "the finger of God" (8:15), while the splitting of the sea is called "the great 'hand' which Hashem did" (14:31). Each hand has five fingers, so the Haggadah concludes that the splitting of the sea was five times as great as the 10 plagues, i.e. 50 plagues.
The problem with this analysis is that the metaphor of God's hand is also used to describe the 10 plagues. The best-known example is in reference to the 5th plague: "Behold, the hand of Hashem is among your cattle in the field" (9:3). God's hand also refers to the 10 plagues in verses 3:20, 6:1, and 13:9. If the 10 plagues are a "hand" and the splitting of the sea also a "hand", shouldn't the latter be considered as 10 plagues rather than 50?
For this reason, I think the discussion of fingers and hands is simply a memory tool for an idea which actually derives from deeper, thematic reasons. Specifically, many of the 10 plagues were not especially miraculous. The splitting of the sea, on the other hand, was clearly miraculous. Therefore it is considered greater, and thus equal to many more plagues.
Proposed “natural” explanations for many of the plagues are well known. Here are some examples. Perhaps, the "bloody" Nile was caused by an abnormal growth of algae (a "crimson tide"). Frogs were forced to leave the algae-infested river, and many ended up in human habitations. When the frogs died (far from their natural habitat), the insects and animals feeding on their corpses made up the next two plagues. All the decaying flesh led to diseases which killed the cattle and then attacked humans. Hail and locusts are natural phenomena, and perhaps the darkness "which could be felt" refers to an intense sandstorm.
(Sometimes these explanations are brought in an attempt to show that God was not really involved in the Exodus. That conclusion is untenable. Certain aspects of the plagues – for example, the timing, and complete sparing of the Israelites – cannot be explained by any natural phenomenon. And even if they could, there is no way that Moshe could reliably predict them. Anyway, the fact that undeniable miracles occurred later on is sufficient evidence of Divine involvement. Unless you simply reject the truthfulness of the Biblical text, there is no way of avoiding God's role and intentions in the Exodus. Therefore, we should feel free to consider “natural” explanations of the plagues, without feeling that they may undermine our faith.)
Moreover, the Egyptians' reaction shows that the plagues were not so miraculous. The Egyptian magicians were able to duplicate the first few plagues (albeit on a smaller scale). Partly based on this, Pharaoh decided to ignore Moshe and Aharon's demands. Even later on, the complaint to Pharaoh is "Do you not yet know that Egypt is destroyed?" (10:7) rather than something like "Do you not yet know that Hashem is God and therefore worth listening to?" Perhaps the purpose of the non-miraculous plagues was to preserve Egyptian free will. If the plagues were obviously miraculous, nobody could avoid learning the desired lessons from them. With less miraculous plagues, stubborn and selfish Egyptians who did not want to lose their Israelite slaves would find some rationalization for ignoring the plagues.
After the Israelites left Egypt, this reason no longer applied. It was no longer necessary that the Egyptians have free will, so no limits were placed on the miraculousness of the ensuing events. This is most evident at the splitting of the sea. No natural phenomenon could conceivable cause the water to form “a wall for them, on their right and on their left”. That was a visible, ongoing, and dramatic violation of the law of gravity.
The magicians call one plague "the finger of God", yet the Haggadah refers to all 10 plagues as a single finger, rather than 10 fingers. Perhaps this implies that the "number of fingers" refers not to the count of miraculous events, but to the degree of miraculousness of whatever is taking place. That fits well with the splitting of the sea, which was one event rather than 50, but was certainly several times as miraculous as anything that preceded it.
From 50 to 200 or 250
How then do we understand the second part of the midrash, in which the number of plagues is multiplied once again by a factor of 4 or 5? To answer this we must provide the relevant verse in its full context (Tehilim 78:42-51):
They remembered not His hand, nor the day when He redeemed them from the adversary.
How He set His signs in Egypt, and His wonders in the field of Zoan;
And turned their rivers into blood, so that they could not drink their streams.
He sent among them 'arov', which devoured them; and frogs, which destroyed them.
He gave also their increase unto the caterpillar, and their labor unto the locust.
He destroyed their vines with hail, and their sycamore-trees with frost.
He gave over their cattle also to the hail, and their flocks to fiery bolts.
He sent among them the fierceness of His anger, wrath, and indignation, and trouble, a sending of messengers of evil.
He leveled a path for His anger; He spared not their soul from death, but gave their life over to the pestilence;
And smote all the first-born in Egypt, the first-fruits of their strength in the tents of Ham.
In total 7 out of 10 plagues are mentioned in this passage (plagues 3,6,9 are omitted, perhaps because they were the only plagues not announced to Pharaoh – see here). Alongside the relatively straightforward descriptions of the plagues, there is one verse which discusses no plague in particular. This verse, shown in bold above, is the same one used by the Haggadah.
If this verse is not a mention of one plague, perhaps it is a general description of what happened in each of the plagues. If so, then “fierceness of His anger; wrath; indignation; trouble; sending of messengers of evil” are five aspects of each plague. Thus the 10 plagues become 50, and the 50 plagues at the sea 250. That is the basis of R' Akiva's opinion.
According to R' Eliezer, though, “fierceness of his anger” is a general description of the other four aspects, rather than being an aspect of its own. (Presumably he says this because “fierceness of his anger” is not followed by the word “and”, implying that it is a prefix to the list of aspects, rather than part of the list. R' Akiva would reply that use of the word “and” in Tanach is not always consistent – see Ibn Ezra to Shemot 1:4. Note how my translations of the verse at the top of this post reflect each rabbi's interpretation.) Thus, according to R' Eliezer, each plague has only four aspects, and the numbers of plagues become 40 and 200 respectively.
You may object to this analysis, in that a plague remains one plague even if there is more than one aspect to it. Perhaps, but as we saw with the splitting of the sea, in this midrash numbers of plagues do not really refer to the number of events. Rather, they refer to how wonderful the plague was. And the whole point of these “multiplication tables” is to recognize the greatness of the existing plagues, not to introduce new plagues that were not mentioned in the text.
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Women's names
In the charedi world, the idea has recently been popularized that it is immodest to mention a woman's name in public. Thus, on wedding invitations, the couples' parents are listed as “Aharon and his wife Cohen” (אהרן ורעיתו כהן), rather than “Aharon and Elisheva Cohen” (or, chas veshalom, “Elisheva and Aharon Cohen”). Omitting the bride's name is not yet common, but surely that is only a matter of time.
Now most us are probably wondering: what can possibly be wrong with mentioning a name? Are we now going to edit the Torah to remove the names of beautiful women like Sarah and Rivkah? After all, who knows how many men have been tempted into sexual fantasies by the mention of their names? Such an approach is just absurd.
Unfortunately, we cannot end this discussion here. Because we should not immediately dismiss even an apparent “absurdity” when it receives support from a gemara – in this case, Megilah 15a. There it says that Rahav the prostitute (from Sefer Yehoshua) was one of the most beautiful women ever to live. The gemara continues as follows:
According to this gemara, saying a woman's name can be enough to send a man far, far into the realm of forbidden sexual thoughts!
Additional evidence for the charedi position comes from a source that they themselves would absolutely never consider looking at (I suspect that the best evidence for charedi positions is often from such sources). That source is Mambo No. 5, a popular song from 1999. It describes a bunch of women's names and what the singer does which each of them. The descriptions of these relationships are absolutely tame – Shir Hashirim is more explicit. But the fact that there are so many of them gives the impression that we're in the middle of a giant binge of orgiastic womanizing. A name represents a personality and thus a potential relationship to you. So mentioning each of the names helps us to imagine their relationships, much more so than would a simple running count (1, 2, 3... 56, 57) of how many women the singer has conquered.
By now, we can discern two contradictory approaches. On one hand, refusing to mention women's names feels absurd, and in fact even the Torah doesn't do it. On the other hand, there is some evidence that names can be sufficient to cause sexual thoughts. How do we reconcile our two hands with each other?
The only possible resolution is to say that the prohibition on sexual thoughts is not absolute. If we were really “serious” about avoiding sexual thoughts, we would prohibit one sex from ever stepping out into the street. (I'd suggest men, since women have to go to work each day, whereas men can learn Torah equally well at home.) The stimulation of seeing a physical person is surely greater than that of seeing a name in writing. Yet nowhere, not even in Mea Shearim, does anyone propose such a standard. The logical conclusion is that we do not aim to eliminate sexual thoughts, only to keep them below a certain threshold, which is high enough that we still have the freedom to pursue our other goals in life. And practically speaking, the mention of names is well beneath any conceivable practical threshold. On the contrary, in modern society the refusal to mention names is immodest, in that in it forces us to consider sexuality, in a context where otherwise you wouldn't have thought of it.
There may also be an simple explanation for the gemara in Megilah, in which the degree of sexual thoughts caused by mentioning a name is well above any threshold we'd consider setting. R' Yitzchak said that the person who ejaculates upon saying “Rahav, Rahav” is one who “knows and recognizes” her. The phrase “knows and recognizes” here is redundant. Perhaps “knows” (or else “recognizes”) is meant in the Biblical sense – to have had intercourse with her. If such a person says “Rahav, Rahav” – repeating her name over and over, not just saying it once – one can imagine it leading to vivid fantasies. That is hardly comparable to reading, once, the name of someone you've never had intercourse with and often have never met.
Now most us are probably wondering: what can possibly be wrong with mentioning a name? Are we now going to edit the Torah to remove the names of beautiful women like Sarah and Rivkah? After all, who knows how many men have been tempted into sexual fantasies by the mention of their names? Such an approach is just absurd.
Unfortunately, we cannot end this discussion here. Because we should not immediately dismiss even an apparent “absurdity” when it receives support from a gemara – in this case, Megilah 15a. There it says that Rahav the prostitute (from Sefer Yehoshua) was one of the most beautiful women ever to live. The gemara continues as follows:
R' Yitzchak said: Whoever says "Rahav, Rahav" immediately experiences a seminal emission.
R' Nachman said to him: I said "Rahav, Rahav" and it didn't affect me.
He [R' Yitzchak] said to him: What I said refers to a person who knows and recognizes her.
According to this gemara, saying a woman's name can be enough to send a man far, far into the realm of forbidden sexual thoughts!
Additional evidence for the charedi position comes from a source that they themselves would absolutely never consider looking at (I suspect that the best evidence for charedi positions is often from such sources). That source is Mambo No. 5, a popular song from 1999. It describes a bunch of women's names and what the singer does which each of them. The descriptions of these relationships are absolutely tame – Shir Hashirim is more explicit. But the fact that there are so many of them gives the impression that we're in the middle of a giant binge of orgiastic womanizing. A name represents a personality and thus a potential relationship to you. So mentioning each of the names helps us to imagine their relationships, much more so than would a simple running count (1, 2, 3... 56, 57) of how many women the singer has conquered.
By now, we can discern two contradictory approaches. On one hand, refusing to mention women's names feels absurd, and in fact even the Torah doesn't do it. On the other hand, there is some evidence that names can be sufficient to cause sexual thoughts. How do we reconcile our two hands with each other?
The only possible resolution is to say that the prohibition on sexual thoughts is not absolute. If we were really “serious” about avoiding sexual thoughts, we would prohibit one sex from ever stepping out into the street. (I'd suggest men, since women have to go to work each day, whereas men can learn Torah equally well at home.) The stimulation of seeing a physical person is surely greater than that of seeing a name in writing. Yet nowhere, not even in Mea Shearim, does anyone propose such a standard. The logical conclusion is that we do not aim to eliminate sexual thoughts, only to keep them below a certain threshold, which is high enough that we still have the freedom to pursue our other goals in life. And practically speaking, the mention of names is well beneath any conceivable practical threshold. On the contrary, in modern society the refusal to mention names is immodest, in that in it forces us to consider sexuality, in a context where otherwise you wouldn't have thought of it.
There may also be an simple explanation for the gemara in Megilah, in which the degree of sexual thoughts caused by mentioning a name is well above any threshold we'd consider setting. R' Yitzchak said that the person who ejaculates upon saying “Rahav, Rahav” is one who “knows and recognizes” her. The phrase “knows and recognizes” here is redundant. Perhaps “knows” (or else “recognizes”) is meant in the Biblical sense – to have had intercourse with her. If such a person says “Rahav, Rahav” – repeating her name over and over, not just saying it once – one can imagine it leading to vivid fantasies. That is hardly comparable to reading, once, the name of someone you've never had intercourse with and often have never met.
Paradise Lost
R' Aharon Lichtenstein is reported to have said that he envies anyone who has not yet had the experience of reading “Paradise Lost”. That is quite an endorsement, and I could not resist borrowing the book from a friend a couple months back.
It took me until recently to finish reading the book, so presumably R' Lichtenstein's envy is limited to people more intelligent and "literary" than myself. Because while I could understand a bit of the book's 300 pages of carefully crafted poetry, I could not really enjoy it, and there were certainly times when I got stuck and abandoned the book until the next Saturday night when I might have time and energy to read a bit further.
That said, there were certainly parts of the book that I appreciated. The descriptions of Satan in the first third of the book were quite powerful. My favorite moment was when Satan, flying to Earth to tempt mankind, momentarily considered repenting for the rebellion that had landed him in a newly-created Hell. But he rejected that possibility, with the argument that after repenting he would inevitably sin again with the same motivation, thus there was no reason for him to ask forgiveness, or for God to grant it. I saw this as a poignant description of how we all rationalize decisions that were actually made for improper emotional reasons.
But more than that, I enjoyed the second half of the book. Here the story closely followed the verses in Breishit – with, of course, long inserts and elaborations. The parts that copied Breishit served to pace me and give me a sense of structure, while the inserts gave me plenty of food for though. Here are a few of the ideas that Milton added in his elaboration of Breishit:
- How was the snake able to talk, which contradicts the laws of nature? The snake told Eve that he himself had eaten the fruit, and not only had he not died, but he gained this special “knowledge” of how to speak. Confronted with clear evidence that the fruit was beneficial rather than harmful, Eve was then tempted into eating it.
- Adam ate the fruit not in ignorance, but because he knew Eve had already eaten and was going to die, and he was so infatuated with her that he preferred dying with her to living without her. (An angel had previously told him not to lose his head over her, but that warning wasn't sufficient.)
- The "sons of God" who married the "daughters of man" (Breishit 6:1-4) were righteous people (thus "sons of God") who were tempted into marrying attractive but dissolute women. Enoch's "walking with God" meant to walk in heaven, after leaving the world.
- Noach's three sons had four wives. (Perhaps this detail is intended to prefigure Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, and their wives? Through Noach, like through the Avot, the world was rescued from universal sin?)
These are all interpretations that are not in the Biblical text, but serve to explain it better or highlight ideas arising from it. Normally, we learn our "parshanut" in a highly analytical form. We read a commentary which cites some background, formulates a question, proposes a solution, and finally explores the implications of that solution. Paradise Lost accomplishes the exact same thing, but in a totally different format. As a person familiar with Breishit, I would read the parallel passage in Paradise Lost, note which details were duplicated from Breishit and which were NOT in Breishit, and think about the reasons for and implications of these additions. In short, I learned the same kind of thing I might have from a traditional commentary. And while I must admit to occasionally finding the book boring (I blame this on the 17th-century vocabulary, or else on my 21st-century attention span), overall the format does seem more interesting than an equivalent "analytical" commentary would be.
If the format of Paradise Lost seems familiar, it is because we have a Jewish parallel in the form of Midrash. The typical midrash in a text like Midrash Rabbah is only a few lines long, without sources, concise, and lacking in literary embellishments. I don't think midrash was originally like that. Presumably, a Talmudic rabbi would get up in front of his congregation or beit midrash, and give a long and vivid story which was an elaboration of something that happened in Tanach. What we have in Midrash Rabbah is a concise summary, omitting most of the literary devices of the original. You might think from the place of midrash in kindergartens today that such elaboration cannot be done intelligently. But Paradise Lost shows that it can, and in the case of the original midrash, presumably it was.
It took me until recently to finish reading the book, so presumably R' Lichtenstein's envy is limited to people more intelligent and "literary" than myself. Because while I could understand a bit of the book's 300 pages of carefully crafted poetry, I could not really enjoy it, and there were certainly times when I got stuck and abandoned the book until the next Saturday night when I might have time and energy to read a bit further.
That said, there were certainly parts of the book that I appreciated. The descriptions of Satan in the first third of the book were quite powerful. My favorite moment was when Satan, flying to Earth to tempt mankind, momentarily considered repenting for the rebellion that had landed him in a newly-created Hell. But he rejected that possibility, with the argument that after repenting he would inevitably sin again with the same motivation, thus there was no reason for him to ask forgiveness, or for God to grant it. I saw this as a poignant description of how we all rationalize decisions that were actually made for improper emotional reasons.
But more than that, I enjoyed the second half of the book. Here the story closely followed the verses in Breishit – with, of course, long inserts and elaborations. The parts that copied Breishit served to pace me and give me a sense of structure, while the inserts gave me plenty of food for though. Here are a few of the ideas that Milton added in his elaboration of Breishit:
- How was the snake able to talk, which contradicts the laws of nature? The snake told Eve that he himself had eaten the fruit, and not only had he not died, but he gained this special “knowledge” of how to speak. Confronted with clear evidence that the fruit was beneficial rather than harmful, Eve was then tempted into eating it.
- Adam ate the fruit not in ignorance, but because he knew Eve had already eaten and was going to die, and he was so infatuated with her that he preferred dying with her to living without her. (An angel had previously told him not to lose his head over her, but that warning wasn't sufficient.)
- The "sons of God" who married the "daughters of man" (Breishit 6:1-4) were righteous people (thus "sons of God") who were tempted into marrying attractive but dissolute women. Enoch's "walking with God" meant to walk in heaven, after leaving the world.
- Noach's three sons had four wives. (Perhaps this detail is intended to prefigure Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, and their wives? Through Noach, like through the Avot, the world was rescued from universal sin?)
These are all interpretations that are not in the Biblical text, but serve to explain it better or highlight ideas arising from it. Normally, we learn our "parshanut" in a highly analytical form. We read a commentary which cites some background, formulates a question, proposes a solution, and finally explores the implications of that solution. Paradise Lost accomplishes the exact same thing, but in a totally different format. As a person familiar with Breishit, I would read the parallel passage in Paradise Lost, note which details were duplicated from Breishit and which were NOT in Breishit, and think about the reasons for and implications of these additions. In short, I learned the same kind of thing I might have from a traditional commentary. And while I must admit to occasionally finding the book boring (I blame this on the 17th-century vocabulary, or else on my 21st-century attention span), overall the format does seem more interesting than an equivalent "analytical" commentary would be.
If the format of Paradise Lost seems familiar, it is because we have a Jewish parallel in the form of Midrash. The typical midrash in a text like Midrash Rabbah is only a few lines long, without sources, concise, and lacking in literary embellishments. I don't think midrash was originally like that. Presumably, a Talmudic rabbi would get up in front of his congregation or beit midrash, and give a long and vivid story which was an elaboration of something that happened in Tanach. What we have in Midrash Rabbah is a concise summary, omitting most of the literary devices of the original. You might think from the place of midrash in kindergartens today that such elaboration cannot be done intelligently. But Paradise Lost shows that it can, and in the case of the original midrash, presumably it was.
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