I keep getting ads on Gmail for education for learning-disabled kids. Why? How could this possibly be relevant to me or what I have written?
Possibly I have a learning disability which is preventing me from realizing the answer...
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Hineh mah tov...
The verse says, "basukkot teshvu shivat yamim, kol haezrach beyisrael yeshu basukot". It is a little surprising that the word "sukkot" as well as the verbs are all in the plural, especially in the second half of the verse, where a single "ezrach" is discussed. (Clearly there is no mitzvah for each individual to sit in multiple sukkot.)
Perhaps the verse is hinting that there is a communal aspect to being in the sukkah. Since, ideally, everyone makes aliyah leregel and celebrates Sukkot in Jerusalem, thus Jerusalem should be absolutely crammed with sukkot. And since people are forced to leave their sukkot every once in a while (to go to the bathroom, clean dishes, etc., just to a mention a few required exits from the sukkah), they are guaranteed to see everyone else's sukkot as well as some of the people living in them. Thus, living in the sukkah is an experience you share with the whole Jewish people. This is in contrast to the rest of the year when you are likely to regularly see only your next-door neighbors, if you have any, as well as whoever lives in the nearby town.
This communal experience on Sukkot is similar to the communal experience on Pesach, when everyone after finishing their Seder in Jerusalem would go up to the roof and sing Hallel along with the people on every other roof. The thematic meaning of each communal experience is clear. On Pesach, we commemorate that the entire people left slavery and became God's servants together. On Sukkot, we commemorate that not just individuals but the entire Jewish people are under God's protection.
Perhaps the verse is hinting that there is a communal aspect to being in the sukkah. Since, ideally, everyone makes aliyah leregel and celebrates Sukkot in Jerusalem, thus Jerusalem should be absolutely crammed with sukkot. And since people are forced to leave their sukkot every once in a while (to go to the bathroom, clean dishes, etc., just to a mention a few required exits from the sukkah), they are guaranteed to see everyone else's sukkot as well as some of the people living in them. Thus, living in the sukkah is an experience you share with the whole Jewish people. This is in contrast to the rest of the year when you are likely to regularly see only your next-door neighbors, if you have any, as well as whoever lives in the nearby town.
This communal experience on Sukkot is similar to the communal experience on Pesach, when everyone after finishing their Seder in Jerusalem would go up to the roof and sing Hallel along with the people on every other roof. The thematic meaning of each communal experience is clear. On Pesach, we commemorate that the entire people left slavery and became God's servants together. On Sukkot, we commemorate that not just individuals but the entire Jewish people are under God's protection.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Kapparah
The highlight of the the Yom Kippur Temple service is the entry of the Kohel Gadol into the innermost chamber of the Temple, first to create a cloud of incense (symbolically causing God's presence to appear), and then to sprinkle the blood of the bull and goat sin-offerings (as with every sin-offering, sprinkling blood is what causes or symbolizes the atonement; the unique part of the Yom Kippur sprinkling is its location). Through the sprinkling, atonement is achieved for the Kohen Gadol himself (through the bull, which belongs to him), and for the Jewish people (through the goat, which is taken on behalf of the entire people).
It is interesting that exactly one action is performed to the bull, and one to the goat, before their slaughter and blood-sprinkling. Regarding the bull, the Kohen Gadol must confess his sins. Regarding the goat, there is no confession. The only action performed is the drawing of lots, which distinguishes the goat which will be offered as a sacrifice from the goat which will be sent to the desert.
The sin-offerings of the Kohen Gadol and the people represent the different methods by which individuals and the Jewish people achieve atonement. The Kohen Gadol, like every individual, must confess his sins and repent in order for his sins to be atoned. But for the Jewish people as a whole, this is not necessary. The goat becomes a valid sin-offering simply by the fact that the lots chose it over the other goat. And our collective atonement is achieved simply by the fact that God has chosen the Jewish people.
Of course, the Temple service achieves atonement - "kapparah", as is mentioned repeatedly. This consists of God's renouncement of the right to punish us. But there is another purpose to Yom Kippur: "taharah", moral purification. Kapparah is repeatedly mentioned throughout the description of the Temple service. Taharah is mentioned mainly at the end of the chapter, in conjunction with the command to "afflict your soul" on Yom Kippur. The Temple service spares us from punishment, but only through soul-searching and repentance can we become better people.
It is interesting that exactly one action is performed to the bull, and one to the goat, before their slaughter and blood-sprinkling. Regarding the bull, the Kohen Gadol must confess his sins. Regarding the goat, there is no confession. The only action performed is the drawing of lots, which distinguishes the goat which will be offered as a sacrifice from the goat which will be sent to the desert.
The sin-offerings of the Kohen Gadol and the people represent the different methods by which individuals and the Jewish people achieve atonement. The Kohen Gadol, like every individual, must confess his sins and repent in order for his sins to be atoned. But for the Jewish people as a whole, this is not necessary. The goat becomes a valid sin-offering simply by the fact that the lots chose it over the other goat. And our collective atonement is achieved simply by the fact that God has chosen the Jewish people.
Of course, the Temple service achieves atonement - "kapparah", as is mentioned repeatedly. This consists of God's renouncement of the right to punish us. But there is another purpose to Yom Kippur: "taharah", moral purification. Kapparah is repeatedly mentioned throughout the description of the Temple service. Taharah is mentioned mainly at the end of the chapter, in conjunction with the command to "afflict your soul" on Yom Kippur. The Temple service spares us from punishment, but only through soul-searching and repentance can we become better people.
Brotherly Love
According to the famous midrash which I used a while back as the basis for a joke, the spot of the Temple in Jerusalem was that on which two brothers, each worried about the other's livelihood, had met while secretly giving grain to each other.
On one hand, you can categorically state that historically, this story never actually occurred. (That, however, takes away none of its significance. The details of fiction are MORE important than the details of nonfiction, because they were chosen for specific thematic reasons and don't just reflect the oddities of historical reality.) On the other hand, it is clear what the names of the brothers were.
The brother with a large family was named Yehudah. The single brother was named Binyamin. This has to be the case, because the two brothers in the midrash are fictional representations of two tribes. Yehudah was the large and powerful tribe whose territory stretched from Jerusalem to southern Israel. Binyamin was the small tribe located just north of Jerusalem. The two tribes had fought several wars with each other by David's time. When David chose a spot for the Temple, he intentionally avoided his own tribe (Yehudah) and chose Jerusalem, which was right on the border between the two tribes. He did this in order to unify and create peace between the two neighboring tribes. He succeeded, as Yehudah and Binyamin remained united for the rest of Jewish history. When the more northern tribes - which had family ties to Binyamin - split off to form their own kingdom, Binyamin did not follow.
Given this historical background, the midrash becomes almost predictable. David chose a spot which would foster love between the tribes (whose ancestors Yehudah and Binyamin were brothers); in the midrash the spot was chosen because of the love demonstrated between two brothers. The midrash is just trying to shed light on the moral motivations behind the choice of the Temple location.
Reading Tanach, you find the story of David's choice of the location, but his motivations are obscure. Reading the midrash, the history of the tribes is obscure, but the moral significance of David's choice could not be clearer. Nowadays we would put this piece of Tanach interpretation into a shiur. The midrash chose to present the same interpretation as a beautiful story.
This is a good example of a general rule which helps to explain many midrashim, perhaps most of them. Taken literally, they often seem improbable (though this one is plausible, just unverifiable). But often they are in fact allegories, or else very clearly emphasize themes from Tanach. The challenge for thoughtful readers is to identify how exactly each midrash functions as a commentary on Tanach. This can be difficult. But even if you don't succeed, the surface meaning of the midrash is often informative or inspiring, so the midrash can be appreciated even without fully understanding the logic behind it.
On one hand, you can categorically state that historically, this story never actually occurred. (That, however, takes away none of its significance. The details of fiction are MORE important than the details of nonfiction, because they were chosen for specific thematic reasons and don't just reflect the oddities of historical reality.) On the other hand, it is clear what the names of the brothers were.
The brother with a large family was named Yehudah. The single brother was named Binyamin. This has to be the case, because the two brothers in the midrash are fictional representations of two tribes. Yehudah was the large and powerful tribe whose territory stretched from Jerusalem to southern Israel. Binyamin was the small tribe located just north of Jerusalem. The two tribes had fought several wars with each other by David's time. When David chose a spot for the Temple, he intentionally avoided his own tribe (Yehudah) and chose Jerusalem, which was right on the border between the two tribes. He did this in order to unify and create peace between the two neighboring tribes. He succeeded, as Yehudah and Binyamin remained united for the rest of Jewish history. When the more northern tribes - which had family ties to Binyamin - split off to form their own kingdom, Binyamin did not follow.
Given this historical background, the midrash becomes almost predictable. David chose a spot which would foster love between the tribes (whose ancestors Yehudah and Binyamin were brothers); in the midrash the spot was chosen because of the love demonstrated between two brothers. The midrash is just trying to shed light on the moral motivations behind the choice of the Temple location.
Reading Tanach, you find the story of David's choice of the location, but his motivations are obscure. Reading the midrash, the history of the tribes is obscure, but the moral significance of David's choice could not be clearer. Nowadays we would put this piece of Tanach interpretation into a shiur. The midrash chose to present the same interpretation as a beautiful story.
This is a good example of a general rule which helps to explain many midrashim, perhaps most of them. Taken literally, they often seem improbable (though this one is plausible, just unverifiable). But often they are in fact allegories, or else very clearly emphasize themes from Tanach. The challenge for thoughtful readers is to identify how exactly each midrash functions as a commentary on Tanach. This can be difficult. But even if you don't succeed, the surface meaning of the midrash is often informative or inspiring, so the midrash can be appreciated even without fully understanding the logic behind it.
Leaving yeshiva
Yeshiva is like being at Mount Sinai. You spend a year there in order to get religion, in preparation for what comes after. Leaving yeshiva like leaving Mount Sinai. You can't be eager to do it. Witness the midrash which castigates Israel for running away from Sinai like kids from school.
Your life's purpose is fundamentally in Israel not in the desert, and once you are ready for Israel, you have to go. But you take an aron and luchot with you. A little bit of Sinai remains physically close with the Jewish people, and a little bit of yeshiva must remain with you. Not only do you try do implement the ideas you learned in yeshiva, but a certain level you must feel that you never left.
Your life's purpose is fundamentally in Israel not in the desert, and once you are ready for Israel, you have to go. But you take an aron and luchot with you. A little bit of Sinai remains physically close with the Jewish people, and a little bit of yeshiva must remain with you. Not only do you try do implement the ideas you learned in yeshiva, but a certain level you must feel that you never left.
Friday, September 29, 2006
Balanced repentance
On one hand, it is easy to give up on repentance. You recognize that some of your behavior is flawed and could use improvement. You call out to God but don't feel God answering. Even after you commit to change yourself, you find yourself slipping into your earlier behavior. You have a picture in mind of how you would like to see yourself, improved. But you see no clear path by which to get there.
On the other hand, it is easy to get the feeling that you had sins to atone for, but that now you regret them, will never repeat them, and in general have done the full measure of repentance. The yamim noraim require teshuva - but now you are close to God, you have done teshuva, and you are done with teshuva.
These are the dual challenges of the Yamim Noraim: to keep your heart up, but your head down. It's relatively easy to achieve one at the expense of the other, and whenever you work at one, the other tends to slip. It is extremely difficult to repent both out of love and out of fear. But that is the only way to achieve real character growth. Figure out in which of the two directions you are lacking. And work to bring yourself to the rigorous, painful, but morally productive emotional state in which you are vividly aware, both of the desperateness of your current condition, but also of the immense capabilities for love and growth that lie within you.
On the other hand, it is easy to get the feeling that you had sins to atone for, but that now you regret them, will never repeat them, and in general have done the full measure of repentance. The yamim noraim require teshuva - but now you are close to God, you have done teshuva, and you are done with teshuva.
These are the dual challenges of the Yamim Noraim: to keep your heart up, but your head down. It's relatively easy to achieve one at the expense of the other, and whenever you work at one, the other tends to slip. It is extremely difficult to repent both out of love and out of fear. But that is the only way to achieve real character growth. Figure out in which of the two directions you are lacking. And work to bring yourself to the rigorous, painful, but morally productive emotional state in which you are vividly aware, both of the desperateness of your current condition, but also of the immense capabilities for love and growth that lie within you.
Thirsty Soul
Which zemirot were written for occasions other than the ones they are currently used for? "Hamavdil", for instance, which we sing after the end of Shabbat, fits motzaei Yom Kippur (or Shabbat Shuvah?) very well. Presumably it was written with one of those occasions in mind. But that's common knowledge.
Similarly, it could be that "Tzama nafshi", which is listed as one of the Shabbat zemirot, was actually written for Rosh Hashanah. Almost every line expresses a main theme of Rosh Hashanah. (I don't have time to write this up; check for yourself.) Meanwhile, there is no mention of Shabbat. Plus, its well-known tune is not inappropriate for Rosh Hashanah.
Even if this hypothesis is wrong, and (for example) Tzama Nafshi was perhaps written for no particular occasion but just as nice religious poetry - nevertheless, all the Rosh Hashanah-like qualities make it a great song to sing on Rosh Hashanah. (Or, for that matter, Shabbat Shuvah, seeing as I missed my chance to post this before Rosh Hashanah.)
Similarly, it could be that "Tzama nafshi", which is listed as one of the Shabbat zemirot, was actually written for Rosh Hashanah. Almost every line expresses a main theme of Rosh Hashanah. (I don't have time to write this up; check for yourself.) Meanwhile, there is no mention of Shabbat. Plus, its well-known tune is not inappropriate for Rosh Hashanah.
Even if this hypothesis is wrong, and (for example) Tzama Nafshi was perhaps written for no particular occasion but just as nice religious poetry - nevertheless, all the Rosh Hashanah-like qualities make it a great song to sing on Rosh Hashanah. (Or, for that matter, Shabbat Shuvah, seeing as I missed my chance to post this before Rosh Hashanah.)
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Since it's the time of year that we look back and evaluate...
I've noticed a benefit to writing regular blog entries.
At every level of education, whenever you get a writing assignment, it is to write a certain number of pages. Thus, you end up planning ahead of time how long each part of the essay or paper will be. If it's too long or short, you add "filler" or cut things out accordingly. You follow the assigned structure, regardless of how the ideas should really be expressed best.
When writing blog entries, because the initiative is yours, you have none of those issues. There is no page requirement, so you can write every idea using exactly the number of words it takes to express it. If an idea isn't coming out right, or doesn't fit with the rest of what you wrote, you can cut it out and save it for later, or delete it entirely. If your train of thought takes you in a new and more complicated direction, there is time and space to develop that too.
Eventually you find that your thoughts and logical processes are displayed, almost graphically, on the page. If there is a weak point in your argument, it finds expression in a weak sentence. You can't fix the sentence without fixing the argument too. But once every paragraph division makes sense and every line flows smoothly into the next, you know that the argument you have just written is flawless and is guaranteed to be correct.
At every level of education, whenever you get a writing assignment, it is to write a certain number of pages. Thus, you end up planning ahead of time how long each part of the essay or paper will be. If it's too long or short, you add "filler" or cut things out accordingly. You follow the assigned structure, regardless of how the ideas should really be expressed best.
When writing blog entries, because the initiative is yours, you have none of those issues. There is no page requirement, so you can write every idea using exactly the number of words it takes to express it. If an idea isn't coming out right, or doesn't fit with the rest of what you wrote, you can cut it out and save it for later, or delete it entirely. If your train of thought takes you in a new and more complicated direction, there is time and space to develop that too.
Eventually you find that your thoughts and logical processes are displayed, almost graphically, on the page. If there is a weak point in your argument, it finds expression in a weak sentence. You can't fix the sentence without fixing the argument too. But once every paragraph division makes sense and every line flows smoothly into the next, you know that the argument you have just written is flawless and is guaranteed to be correct.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Two Different Holidays, and Two Holidays which Unite
Two Themes
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur tend to be lumped together as the "Yamim Noraim", with really long prayers, somber tunes, repentance, and so on. Perhaps surprisingly, they in fact have very different basic themes. To give a general, simplified overview:
And Thus
As expected, the Rosh Hashanah theme is easily recognized in many RH prayers, and likewise for YK. In addition, however, there are also several prayers which are recited on both holidays, but at no other time of year. Some of them combine both holidays' themes in very interesting ways.
In particular, consider the "Uvechen" prayer which is inserted into the third blessing of every RH and YK Shemoneh Esreh. I will quote successive lines of it in italics, each followed by an explanation of which holiday the line "belongs" to.
1. "In every generation ascribe kingship to God; For he alone is exalted and holy."
A brief introduction to the whole prayer. It does not express what we hope for in the future, but what we should do now, in relation to the hopes which will next be expressed. The mention of kingship links it strongly to the RH theme, while holiness links it to YK.
2. "And thus, may your name be sanctified - Hashem our God - over Israel your people, over Jerusalem your city, over Zion the home of your glory, over the kingdom of the house of David your anointed one, and over your sanctuary and Temple."
A pure YK prayer. It calls for God to redeem the Jewish people and restore the Temple, and it mentions sanctity. There is no universalism or mention of power or kingship, ideas which the RH theme emphasizes.
3. "And thus, place your fear - Hashem our God - over all your handiwork, and your terror over all that you created. Let all beings see you, and all creations bow down to you; let them form one association to perform your will wholeheartedly. For as we know - Hashem our God - dominion is yours, strength is in your left hand and power in your right, and your name is awesome over all that you created."
A pure RH prayer. God's power over all mankind is repeatedly mentioned. The special relationship with Israel is not.
4. "And thus - Hashem - grant honor to your people, praise to those who fear you, hope to those who seek you, fluency to those who beseech you, happiness to your land, joy to your city, fulfilled destiny to David your servant, and resumed light to the son of Yishai, your anointed one - soon, in our days."
A pure YK prayer. Not only does it repeatedly mention the fulfillment of the God/Israel relationship, but it emphasizes the prayers of those who are repenting and calling out to God.
5. "And thus, the righteous will see and rejoice; the upright will revel; the devout will call out in delight - for corruption will disappear, and all evil will evaporate like smoke, when the reign of wickedness is removed from the earth."
The RH theme dominates here. The focus is the removal of evil from the entire world. The righteous people repeatedly mentioned could be non-Jewish. Even if they are specifically Jews, that fact is not considered important.
6. "And may you rule - Hashem our God - soon, alone, over all your creations; on Mount Zion the home of your glory, and in Jerusalem your holy city."
This line, the climax of the prayer, combines the RH and YK themes. One one hand, God will reign over the entire world. On the other hand, the Jewish people will be redeemed and returned to the Temple in Jerusalem. By suggesting that God will rule - but rule "in" Jerusalem - the goals of the two holidays are fused together.
7. "As it is written, 'Hashem will rule forever; your God, Zion, for all generations. Halleluyah.' "
We conclude with a Biblical verse to reinforce the requests. Here too, God rules - but specifically from Jerusalem. Thus, as in the final request, the two holidays' themes are united.
In Summary
This particular prayer I see as an "anthem" of the Yamim Noraim. It expresses the themes of each holiday, alternating between one and the other. Lines 2 and 4 relate to Yom Kippur; 3 and 5 relate to Rosh Hashanah. In the remaining lines - 1, 6, 7 - the goals of the two holidays are united. God will be recognized by all. And Israel will repent and be restored. These goals are distinct, and each has a separate holiday devoted to it. But in the final analysis, in the view of Judaism, they are inseparable.
Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur tend to be lumped together as the "Yamim Noraim", with really long prayers, somber tunes, repentance, and so on. Perhaps surprisingly, they in fact have very different basic themes. To give a general, simplified overview:
- Rosh Hashanah's purpose is to commemorate the fact that God is king of the universe. This is necessary background for the holidays which follow later in the month. The shofar has two main historical purposes: as a declaration of solemnity (like at a king's coronation), and as a kind of siren in wartime, connoting a sense of urgency and crisis. Both are appropriate for Rosh Hashanah. Historical allusions in the prayers (the Patriarchs, Noach, and Mount Sinai) are less relevant to Jewish history than they are to creating a sense of God's authority, power, and awe over the whole world. We request, mainly, that these qualities be made obvious and recognized by all mankind.
- Yom Kippur begins with Israel's sin regarding the golden calf. Atonement for this sin was achieved through Moshe's prayer, and more formally through special sacrifices in the newly built Mishkan. In later history, these are paralleled by communal repentance and the Temple service. Thus, our prayers focus on confession, on forgiveness based on God's special relationship with the Jewish people, and on (restoration of) the Temple service. God's holiness is emphasized more than God's power.
And Thus
As expected, the Rosh Hashanah theme is easily recognized in many RH prayers, and likewise for YK. In addition, however, there are also several prayers which are recited on both holidays, but at no other time of year. Some of them combine both holidays' themes in very interesting ways.
In particular, consider the "Uvechen" prayer which is inserted into the third blessing of every RH and YK Shemoneh Esreh. I will quote successive lines of it in italics, each followed by an explanation of which holiday the line "belongs" to.
1. "In every generation ascribe kingship to God; For he alone is exalted and holy."
A brief introduction to the whole prayer. It does not express what we hope for in the future, but what we should do now, in relation to the hopes which will next be expressed. The mention of kingship links it strongly to the RH theme, while holiness links it to YK.
2. "And thus, may your name be sanctified - Hashem our God - over Israel your people, over Jerusalem your city, over Zion the home of your glory, over the kingdom of the house of David your anointed one, and over your sanctuary and Temple."
A pure YK prayer. It calls for God to redeem the Jewish people and restore the Temple, and it mentions sanctity. There is no universalism or mention of power or kingship, ideas which the RH theme emphasizes.
3. "And thus, place your fear - Hashem our God - over all your handiwork, and your terror over all that you created. Let all beings see you, and all creations bow down to you; let them form one association to perform your will wholeheartedly. For as we know - Hashem our God - dominion is yours, strength is in your left hand and power in your right, and your name is awesome over all that you created."
A pure RH prayer. God's power over all mankind is repeatedly mentioned. The special relationship with Israel is not.
4. "And thus - Hashem - grant honor to your people, praise to those who fear you, hope to those who seek you, fluency to those who beseech you, happiness to your land, joy to your city, fulfilled destiny to David your servant, and resumed light to the son of Yishai, your anointed one - soon, in our days."
A pure YK prayer. Not only does it repeatedly mention the fulfillment of the God/Israel relationship, but it emphasizes the prayers of those who are repenting and calling out to God.
5. "And thus, the righteous will see and rejoice; the upright will revel; the devout will call out in delight - for corruption will disappear, and all evil will evaporate like smoke, when the reign of wickedness is removed from the earth."
The RH theme dominates here. The focus is the removal of evil from the entire world. The righteous people repeatedly mentioned could be non-Jewish. Even if they are specifically Jews, that fact is not considered important.
6. "And may you rule - Hashem our God - soon, alone, over all your creations; on Mount Zion the home of your glory, and in Jerusalem your holy city."
This line, the climax of the prayer, combines the RH and YK themes. One one hand, God will reign over the entire world. On the other hand, the Jewish people will be redeemed and returned to the Temple in Jerusalem. By suggesting that God will rule - but rule "in" Jerusalem - the goals of the two holidays are fused together.
7. "As it is written, 'Hashem will rule forever; your God, Zion, for all generations. Halleluyah.' "
We conclude with a Biblical verse to reinforce the requests. Here too, God rules - but specifically from Jerusalem. Thus, as in the final request, the two holidays' themes are united.
In Summary
This particular prayer I see as an "anthem" of the Yamim Noraim. It expresses the themes of each holiday, alternating between one and the other. Lines 2 and 4 relate to Yom Kippur; 3 and 5 relate to Rosh Hashanah. In the remaining lines - 1, 6, 7 - the goals of the two holidays are united. God will be recognized by all. And Israel will repent and be restored. These goals are distinct, and each has a separate holiday devoted to it. But in the final analysis, in the view of Judaism, they are inseparable.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
13 Middot
(Credit for this mostly to R' Menachem Leibtag)
The core of the slichot (and Yom Kippur) prayers is the 13 Middot or Attributes of God. In selichot, they are recited over and over with various songs and poems in between. At first glance they seem like a kind of magic spell which instantly gets you forgiveness for your sins. But that would be very strange and, I think, foreign to Judaism. What, in fact, do they mean? Why are they recited?
If you look at the Ten Commandments, you will notice something interesting. They include not just commandments and reasons for the commandments, but also descriptions of God. For example, God is "zealous" ("kana", 2nd commandment) and unforgiving to sinners (3rd commandment).
Historically, the Ten Commandments were written on tablets and given to Moshe. But after the sin of the golden calf, Moshe broke the tablets. This symbolized a more important fact: that the covenant signified by the 10 Commandments was now nullified. It had to be, because a zealous and unforgiving God could not coexist with a sinning Jewish people. When Moshe went back to God, there were two options. Either the Jewish people would be annihilated. Or else, God's attributes would have to change.
If you make a list of all the attributes of God in the second and third Commandments, and compare them to the 13 Middot (though the order is different), you will find that the "zealous" attributes in the Commandments have "non-zealous" parallels among the Middot. For example, "el kana" is replaced by "el rachum vechanum", "lo yenakeh" by "venakeh", "poked avon" by "nose avon", and so on. After the sin of the golden calf, God made a new covenant with the Jewish people. The actual commandments were unchanged (and so did not have to be repeated). But God's manner of relating to the Jewish people did change. Absolute justice was replaced by a mixture of justice and forgiveness. The changes were recorded for posterity in the 13 Middot, which represent a new set of tablets and a new covenant.
Obviously, God cannot forgive every sin, all the time, nor would that be desirable. After the 13 Middot, the Torah still sometimes mentions God's zeal, jealousy, and unforgiving justice. Sometimes God will be merciful, and sometimes not. Whenever we mention the 13 Middot in prayers, we are alluding to both covenants. We are praying that God act according to the later, merciful covenant, though the earlier model is still an option as well.
"Zechor lanu hayom brit shlosh esreh" - "Remember for us, today, the covenant of the 13 attributes"
The core of the slichot (and Yom Kippur) prayers is the 13 Middot or Attributes of God. In selichot, they are recited over and over with various songs and poems in between. At first glance they seem like a kind of magic spell which instantly gets you forgiveness for your sins. But that would be very strange and, I think, foreign to Judaism. What, in fact, do they mean? Why are they recited?
If you look at the Ten Commandments, you will notice something interesting. They include not just commandments and reasons for the commandments, but also descriptions of God. For example, God is "zealous" ("kana", 2nd commandment) and unforgiving to sinners (3rd commandment).
Historically, the Ten Commandments were written on tablets and given to Moshe. But after the sin of the golden calf, Moshe broke the tablets. This symbolized a more important fact: that the covenant signified by the 10 Commandments was now nullified. It had to be, because a zealous and unforgiving God could not coexist with a sinning Jewish people. When Moshe went back to God, there were two options. Either the Jewish people would be annihilated. Or else, God's attributes would have to change.
If you make a list of all the attributes of God in the second and third Commandments, and compare them to the 13 Middot (though the order is different), you will find that the "zealous" attributes in the Commandments have "non-zealous" parallels among the Middot. For example, "el kana" is replaced by "el rachum vechanum", "lo yenakeh" by "venakeh", "poked avon" by "nose avon", and so on. After the sin of the golden calf, God made a new covenant with the Jewish people. The actual commandments were unchanged (and so did not have to be repeated). But God's manner of relating to the Jewish people did change. Absolute justice was replaced by a mixture of justice and forgiveness. The changes were recorded for posterity in the 13 Middot, which represent a new set of tablets and a new covenant.
Obviously, God cannot forgive every sin, all the time, nor would that be desirable. After the 13 Middot, the Torah still sometimes mentions God's zeal, jealousy, and unforgiving justice. Sometimes God will be merciful, and sometimes not. Whenever we mention the 13 Middot in prayers, we are alluding to both covenants. We are praying that God act according to the later, merciful covenant, though the earlier model is still an option as well.
"Zechor lanu hayom brit shlosh esreh" - "Remember for us, today, the covenant of the 13 attributes"
Monday, September 11, 2006
Esther and Batsheva II
Apologies to those who already saw this piece in English some months back. Of course nobody is going to read it in Hebrew. That's not a problem, though, as I translated it just to test my Hebrew writing skills. My posting it was just the excuse and motivation for translating it.
מגילת אסתר(ב,ז) מספר שאחרי שמתו ההורים של אסתר, מרדכי לקח את אסתר "לבת". לפי המדרש הידוע, אסתר באמת הפך להיות האישה של מרדכי ולא בת החורגת שלו. אני רוצה לחקור את הרקע ואת המסר של מדרש זו.
יש (לפחות) עוד מקום אחד בתנ"ך ששם מתייחסים לאשת מישהו כמו לבתו - בסיפור דוד ובת-שבע (שמואל ב יב). כשהנביא נתן רוצה להוכיח את דוד על חטאו עם בת-שבע, נתן מספר משל של איש רש בעל רק "כבשה אחת קטנה" שהוא מגדל באהבה, עד ש"ותהי לו לבת". לצערו, איש עשיר אחד בעל הרבה עדרי צאן גונב את הכבשה היחידה של הרש, ושוחט ואוכל אותה. דוד, כששומע את הסיפור, כועס ודורש את עונש העשיר. נתן משיב לו שהוא עתה הרשיע את עצמו. במשל, דוד מייצג את העשיר, אוריה את הרש, ואישתו בת-שבע את הכבשה שהרש חישב לה כ"בת".
כשהמדרש אומר שה"בת" של מרדכי באמת היתה "אישתו", אני חושב שהוא רומז לבת-שבע, ה"אישה" האחרת שנקראה "בת". יש עוד הקבלות ברורות בין הסיפורים. מרדכי עומד במקום אוריה. יותר חשוב, המלך אחשורוש עומד במקום המלך דוד. כמו שדוד כפה קשר של ניאוף בינו לבין בת-שבע, אחשורוש כפה נישואי תערובת עם אסתר.
מה שמעניין זה שהקשר של ניאוף בין דוד לבת-שבע הפך יותר מאוחר להיות לגיטימי לגמרי. אחרי מות אוריה, דוד לקח אותה כאישה חוקית. בנם היה שלמה, שהביא את ישראל לשיא עוצמתו, שבנה את בית המקדש הראשון, ושבו נמשך שלשלת המלכות בית של בית דוד. המדרש שלנו מציע שמשהו דומה קרה בין אחשורוש לאסתר. למרות שהתחלת זיווגם היתה בחטא, בסוף היא גרמה להצלת היהודים מגזרת המוות של המן. אפשר עוד לומר שההקבלה הזאת היא מקור למדרש אחרת, האומרת שהמלך דריוש - שנתן רשות ליהודים לבנות את בית המקדש השני - היה בנם של אחשורוש ואסתר.
לפי מדרשנו, המסר המשותפת של אסתר ובת-שבע זה שכשאתה נמצא במצב בעייתי מבחינה רוחנית, אסור לך להתייאש או להתפרש מהמצב. אלא, עליך - כמו שעשו דוד ואסתר - להתענות, לוודות את החטא, ולעבוד עם כל הכח שיש לך כדי להציל את המצב ולהפוך את הגזרה. אז, חטאי מוות והשמדה העומדת להתרחש יכולים להיהפך לגאולת העם ולבניית בית המקדש. אם הכוונה והמאמץ הם נכונים, מתוך המשבר הגדול יכולה לבוא הגאולה השלמה.
מגילת אסתר(ב,ז) מספר שאחרי שמתו ההורים של אסתר, מרדכי לקח את אסתר "לבת". לפי המדרש הידוע, אסתר באמת הפך להיות האישה של מרדכי ולא בת החורגת שלו. אני רוצה לחקור את הרקע ואת המסר של מדרש זו.
יש (לפחות) עוד מקום אחד בתנ"ך ששם מתייחסים לאשת מישהו כמו לבתו - בסיפור דוד ובת-שבע (שמואל ב יב). כשהנביא נתן רוצה להוכיח את דוד על חטאו עם בת-שבע, נתן מספר משל של איש רש בעל רק "כבשה אחת קטנה" שהוא מגדל באהבה, עד ש"ותהי לו לבת". לצערו, איש עשיר אחד בעל הרבה עדרי צאן גונב את הכבשה היחידה של הרש, ושוחט ואוכל אותה. דוד, כששומע את הסיפור, כועס ודורש את עונש העשיר. נתן משיב לו שהוא עתה הרשיע את עצמו. במשל, דוד מייצג את העשיר, אוריה את הרש, ואישתו בת-שבע את הכבשה שהרש חישב לה כ"בת".
כשהמדרש אומר שה"בת" של מרדכי באמת היתה "אישתו", אני חושב שהוא רומז לבת-שבע, ה"אישה" האחרת שנקראה "בת". יש עוד הקבלות ברורות בין הסיפורים. מרדכי עומד במקום אוריה. יותר חשוב, המלך אחשורוש עומד במקום המלך דוד. כמו שדוד כפה קשר של ניאוף בינו לבין בת-שבע, אחשורוש כפה נישואי תערובת עם אסתר.
מה שמעניין זה שהקשר של ניאוף בין דוד לבת-שבע הפך יותר מאוחר להיות לגיטימי לגמרי. אחרי מות אוריה, דוד לקח אותה כאישה חוקית. בנם היה שלמה, שהביא את ישראל לשיא עוצמתו, שבנה את בית המקדש הראשון, ושבו נמשך שלשלת המלכות בית של בית דוד. המדרש שלנו מציע שמשהו דומה קרה בין אחשורוש לאסתר. למרות שהתחלת זיווגם היתה בחטא, בסוף היא גרמה להצלת היהודים מגזרת המוות של המן. אפשר עוד לומר שההקבלה הזאת היא מקור למדרש אחרת, האומרת שהמלך דריוש - שנתן רשות ליהודים לבנות את בית המקדש השני - היה בנם של אחשורוש ואסתר.
לפי מדרשנו, המסר המשותפת של אסתר ובת-שבע זה שכשאתה נמצא במצב בעייתי מבחינה רוחנית, אסור לך להתייאש או להתפרש מהמצב. אלא, עליך - כמו שעשו דוד ואסתר - להתענות, לוודות את החטא, ולעבוד עם כל הכח שיש לך כדי להציל את המצב ולהפוך את הגזרה. אז, חטאי מוות והשמדה העומדת להתרחש יכולים להיהפך לגאולת העם ולבניית בית המקדש. אם הכוונה והמאמץ הם נכונים, מתוך המשבר הגדול יכולה לבוא הגאולה השלמה.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Not Just Any Tree
"The righteous person will flourish like the date-palm; he will grow like a cedar in Lebanon,
Planted in the house of Hashem, in the courts of our God they flourish." (Tehilim 92:13-14)
The basic meaning of these lines is obvious. The righteous person will not only survive, but will become as strong, resilient, and respected as the impressive palm and cedar trees. But what does the second verse add? We know that righteous people will succeed, because they are close to God and do what God wants. Why the repeated, specific mention of the Temple?
There is one other context in which Tanach mentions trees planted in the Temple. This is the Asherah - the idolatrous tree which was planted at holy sites and perhaps served as an object of worship alongside an idol. (The Torah, of course, condemns the practice.) The double mention of the Temple, in connection with the trees, strongly indicates that the righteous person is being compared to an Asherah.
This quite daring metaphor sheds light on how Judaism differs from other religions. The righteous person, standing in place of the Asherah, symbolizes what is important to Judaism. The Jewish people is a "kingdom of priests and a holy nation". Each person, going about his or her daily routine, has the opportunity to sanctify his surroundings and personal relationships. Such a person thus merits the closeness to God that other religions associate with idols, with mystical experiences, and with sites of revelation.
Planted in the house of Hashem, in the courts of our God they flourish." (Tehilim 92:13-14)
The basic meaning of these lines is obvious. The righteous person will not only survive, but will become as strong, resilient, and respected as the impressive palm and cedar trees. But what does the second verse add? We know that righteous people will succeed, because they are close to God and do what God wants. Why the repeated, specific mention of the Temple?
There is one other context in which Tanach mentions trees planted in the Temple. This is the Asherah - the idolatrous tree which was planted at holy sites and perhaps served as an object of worship alongside an idol. (The Torah, of course, condemns the practice.) The double mention of the Temple, in connection with the trees, strongly indicates that the righteous person is being compared to an Asherah.
This quite daring metaphor sheds light on how Judaism differs from other religions. The righteous person, standing in place of the Asherah, symbolizes what is important to Judaism. The Jewish people is a "kingdom of priests and a holy nation". Each person, going about his or her daily routine, has the opportunity to sanctify his surroundings and personal relationships. Such a person thus merits the closeness to God that other religions associate with idols, with mystical experiences, and with sites of revelation.
Friday, September 01, 2006
City on a Hill
There were once two brothers, both farmers, who lived on opposite sides of a hill in central Israel. One was married and had a house full of kids. The other lived by himself.
One night, the first brother thought to himself, "I have a whole family to support, while my brother, who produces the same amount of crops that I do, keeps it all for himself. It would only be fair for me to take some of his crops, to even things out." He decided to steal some of his brother's crops.
Simultaneously, the second brother was thinking. "I envy my brother who has a whole family to support him. What if I get hurt or sick and there is nobody to help out? I need to build up a surplus, just in case." He too decided to steal from his brother.
That night, the brothers set out to steal from one another. But the next morning, they were amazed to find that they had no more wheat in their storehouses than they had the day before. This scene repeated itself several days in a row.
One night the two brothers bumped into each other, carrying bundles of wheat. They each realized what the other had been doing, and started beating each other up.
Many years later, on that exact spot, it was decided to build the Knesset.
One night, the first brother thought to himself, "I have a whole family to support, while my brother, who produces the same amount of crops that I do, keeps it all for himself. It would only be fair for me to take some of his crops, to even things out." He decided to steal some of his brother's crops.
Simultaneously, the second brother was thinking. "I envy my brother who has a whole family to support him. What if I get hurt or sick and there is nobody to help out? I need to build up a surplus, just in case." He too decided to steal from his brother.
That night, the brothers set out to steal from one another. But the next morning, they were amazed to find that they had no more wheat in their storehouses than they had the day before. This scene repeated itself several days in a row.
One night the two brothers bumped into each other, carrying bundles of wheat. They each realized what the other had been doing, and started beating each other up.
Many years later, on that exact spot, it was decided to build the Knesset.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Pomegranate
I counted the seeds of a pomegranate (and then ate them). There were 509. (roughly)
It was a smallish pomegranate too. A big one might indeed have close to 613 seeds.
It was a smallish pomegranate too. A big one might indeed have close to 613 seeds.
Deterrence
I try to avoid making political posts, but I couldn't get out of the way of this one.
One main Israeli goal of the recent Lebanon war was to restore its deterrent power. It has been claimed that since many Arabs think that Hizbullah won, thus Israel's deterrence has actually decreased. But of course, Israel does not need to deter the average Arab - the Syrian goat-herder or the taxi driver from Qatar - because no matter how much they hate Israel, they can't do much to effect it. Only governments, militaries, and major terrorist groups need to be deterred from fighting. Specifically, without the support of either Lebanon or Iran, Hizbullah could not continue its activities. It is not a country or people after all, it is just a militia which needs funding and territory from which to operate.
I'm sure few Lebanese, no matter how much they hate Israel, would choose to see the destruction of the last month repeated. Iran, on the other hand, has lost nothing over the past month. And Iran has more influence over Hizbullah than the Lebanese government or society do. Lebanon has probably been deterred, but some other method will have to be found to deter Iran.
Right now Israel is faced with Hizbullah and Hamas on its borders, and the US is fighting an insurgency in Iraq. The common denominator in these destabilizing situations (possibly including Hamas) is Iranian funding. Take away the funding, and the terrorists will not be able to afford bombs or rockets or salaries. And Iran's wealth would seem to be easily attackable.
Since Ahmadinejad came to power and began making blood-curdling threats, nearly all foreign investment has left Iran in a hurry. The economy as a whole has been pretty weak since the Islamic Revolution, but this was the last straw. Apparently the Tehran stock market has all but ceased to exist. Of course, Iran survives because of oil revenue. But take away the oil, and Iran would not be able to fund Hizbullah or Hamas. In fact, the Islamic government - not especially popular in its own country - might even fall altogether. And oil is easily targeted.
If the US or Israel ends up at war with Iran, their first strike should eliminate every source of oil in Iran. This would cripple the country very quickly. Instead of being like Saudi Arabia's, Iran's economy would become more like Afghanistan's. Oil infrastructure could be rebuilt afterwards if the US allowed it, but probably not before then - no funds would be available, and who would be willing to invest? Of course, such a strike would only be possible as part of a major war; if undertaken in peacetime it would almost certainly cause war to begin.
Assuming we do not immediately want to wage war with Iran, there is another possibility. Iranian proxies have effectively used asymmetric warfare and terrorism. To fight Iran, the US or Israel must also begin to use "asymmetric warfare and terrorism". Of course, because we are moral, this does not mean targeting civilians. It does mean targeting oil pipelines and refineries. There should be bands of special agents infiltrating Iran and sabotaging oil infrastructure. If Iranian agents do this in Iraq, we can do it in Iran. To the extent Iran sows trouble in its neighbors, we would sow trouble in Iran.
If Iran tries to blame us, we can simply deny it, or else present conclusive evidence that they do the same and much worse. Even better, we could blame the sabotage on Iranian pro-democracy activists or whomever we choose. Thus, violence against a government would provide publicity and legitimacy for the violent party. Terrorists learned the value of this approach long ago, Yasser Arafat being the first and best example. It's time for the civilized world to apply it in one of the rare circumstances in which it is moral.
Though not as overpowering as a full military strike, organized sabotage can severely constrict a country's oil production capacity, as recent Iraqi experience has shown. For oil-dependant Iran this could quickly become a major strategic problem. Hundreds of millions of dollars would no longer be available to terror organizations around the world, or even to fund Iran's own army. As the country's economy went downhill, the leadership would lose domestic popularity and international prestige and might even be overthrown and replaced by a secular government. At the very least, faced with violence on its own soil, Iran could be intimidated into a following more restrained foreign policy. All this, at virtually no risk, except to a handful of special agents carrying out the attacks. (World oil prices would go up significantly, but that is the inevitable cost of any approach which hopes to change Iranian policy.)
Such an approach would not solve the Iranian nuclear problem. Nuclear weapons are so incredible valuable to a rogue state that their development could continue even as much of the country starves to death. That's what happened in North Korea, and Iran's mindset may be no different. Thus, some sort of formal military action would be necessary even as sabotage to oil infrastructure continues. The good news is that the two strategies are complementary. An attack on nuclear facilities would add to the economic pressure caused by sabotage. And damage to oil would make it harder to continue nuclear production, and much harder to rebuild nuclear facilities after an American attack. If the attack manages to destroy only part of the nuclear program, as many experts predict, then the delay in rebuilding would be even more valuable.
In fact, it seems to me that any vaguely sensible policy regarding Iran - sanctions, limited military action, or all-out war in the future, could be made more effective by surreptitious attacks on the country's oil production, even if carried out by a third party.
Right now no Western country seems to have a good idea of how to deal with Iran and its influence in the Middle East. Each of the available options seems to have significant drawbacks, to the point that Europe, for example, seems to have given up on the situation entirely. A program of sabotage, however, could make each of the options into a much more defensible option. Then a coherent and coordinated policy would be much more likely to emerge. The Iranian threat could be dealt with, and the biggest threat to peace in today's world could be neutralized.
One main Israeli goal of the recent Lebanon war was to restore its deterrent power. It has been claimed that since many Arabs think that Hizbullah won, thus Israel's deterrence has actually decreased. But of course, Israel does not need to deter the average Arab - the Syrian goat-herder or the taxi driver from Qatar - because no matter how much they hate Israel, they can't do much to effect it. Only governments, militaries, and major terrorist groups need to be deterred from fighting. Specifically, without the support of either Lebanon or Iran, Hizbullah could not continue its activities. It is not a country or people after all, it is just a militia which needs funding and territory from which to operate.
I'm sure few Lebanese, no matter how much they hate Israel, would choose to see the destruction of the last month repeated. Iran, on the other hand, has lost nothing over the past month. And Iran has more influence over Hizbullah than the Lebanese government or society do. Lebanon has probably been deterred, but some other method will have to be found to deter Iran.
Right now Israel is faced with Hizbullah and Hamas on its borders, and the US is fighting an insurgency in Iraq. The common denominator in these destabilizing situations (possibly including Hamas) is Iranian funding. Take away the funding, and the terrorists will not be able to afford bombs or rockets or salaries. And Iran's wealth would seem to be easily attackable.
Since Ahmadinejad came to power and began making blood-curdling threats, nearly all foreign investment has left Iran in a hurry. The economy as a whole has been pretty weak since the Islamic Revolution, but this was the last straw. Apparently the Tehran stock market has all but ceased to exist. Of course, Iran survives because of oil revenue. But take away the oil, and Iran would not be able to fund Hizbullah or Hamas. In fact, the Islamic government - not especially popular in its own country - might even fall altogether. And oil is easily targeted.
If the US or Israel ends up at war with Iran, their first strike should eliminate every source of oil in Iran. This would cripple the country very quickly. Instead of being like Saudi Arabia's, Iran's economy would become more like Afghanistan's. Oil infrastructure could be rebuilt afterwards if the US allowed it, but probably not before then - no funds would be available, and who would be willing to invest? Of course, such a strike would only be possible as part of a major war; if undertaken in peacetime it would almost certainly cause war to begin.
Assuming we do not immediately want to wage war with Iran, there is another possibility. Iranian proxies have effectively used asymmetric warfare and terrorism. To fight Iran, the US or Israel must also begin to use "asymmetric warfare and terrorism". Of course, because we are moral, this does not mean targeting civilians. It does mean targeting oil pipelines and refineries. There should be bands of special agents infiltrating Iran and sabotaging oil infrastructure. If Iranian agents do this in Iraq, we can do it in Iran. To the extent Iran sows trouble in its neighbors, we would sow trouble in Iran.
If Iran tries to blame us, we can simply deny it, or else present conclusive evidence that they do the same and much worse. Even better, we could blame the sabotage on Iranian pro-democracy activists or whomever we choose. Thus, violence against a government would provide publicity and legitimacy for the violent party. Terrorists learned the value of this approach long ago, Yasser Arafat being the first and best example. It's time for the civilized world to apply it in one of the rare circumstances in which it is moral.
Though not as overpowering as a full military strike, organized sabotage can severely constrict a country's oil production capacity, as recent Iraqi experience has shown. For oil-dependant Iran this could quickly become a major strategic problem. Hundreds of millions of dollars would no longer be available to terror organizations around the world, or even to fund Iran's own army. As the country's economy went downhill, the leadership would lose domestic popularity and international prestige and might even be overthrown and replaced by a secular government. At the very least, faced with violence on its own soil, Iran could be intimidated into a following more restrained foreign policy. All this, at virtually no risk, except to a handful of special agents carrying out the attacks. (World oil prices would go up significantly, but that is the inevitable cost of any approach which hopes to change Iranian policy.)
Such an approach would not solve the Iranian nuclear problem. Nuclear weapons are so incredible valuable to a rogue state that their development could continue even as much of the country starves to death. That's what happened in North Korea, and Iran's mindset may be no different. Thus, some sort of formal military action would be necessary even as sabotage to oil infrastructure continues. The good news is that the two strategies are complementary. An attack on nuclear facilities would add to the economic pressure caused by sabotage. And damage to oil would make it harder to continue nuclear production, and much harder to rebuild nuclear facilities after an American attack. If the attack manages to destroy only part of the nuclear program, as many experts predict, then the delay in rebuilding would be even more valuable.
In fact, it seems to me that any vaguely sensible policy regarding Iran - sanctions, limited military action, or all-out war in the future, could be made more effective by surreptitious attacks on the country's oil production, even if carried out by a third party.
Right now no Western country seems to have a good idea of how to deal with Iran and its influence in the Middle East. Each of the available options seems to have significant drawbacks, to the point that Europe, for example, seems to have given up on the situation entirely. A program of sabotage, however, could make each of the options into a much more defensible option. Then a coherent and coordinated policy would be much more likely to emerge. The Iranian threat could be dealt with, and the biggest threat to peace in today's world could be neutralized.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Dear Abby Shebashamayim
Want proof that Shir Hashirim really is a metaphor for the God/Jewish people relationship, not "just" a love song? Here's what convinced me. (credit to R' Yoni Grossman)
השבעתי אתכם בנות ירושלם, בצבאות, או באילות השדה, אם-תעירו ואם-תעוררו את האהבה עד שתחפץ
(verse 2:7)
Crudely translated: "I make you swear, daughters of Jerusalem, by gazelles, or by the deer of the field, lest you awaken or arouse the love until is desired."
Now, people usually swear by God, their life, their soul, their honor, Satan - there is a short list of entities whom it is worth swearing to. Needless to say, gazelles and the deer of the field are not on that list. The phrasing is thus utterly incomprehensible...
Until you notice the pun. Gazelles - "tzevaot" - sounds a lot like "Hashem Tzevaot". And deer of the field - "ayalot hasadeh" - sounds a lot like "El Shadai". The verse is none other than a disguised oath in God's name, which would make perfect sense, and not in the name of a wild animal. If you didn't get it the first time, the pun is repeated with a different name of God. The choice of gazelles and deer to make the pun is in line with Shir Hashirim's general tendency to use metaphors from nature.
If two references to God in Shir Hashirim are in fact disguised through natural metaphors (and there is no other way to understand the verse), then perhaps there are others. Perhaps the entire book is such a disguised reference?
השבעתי אתכם בנות ירושלם, בצבאות, או באילות השדה, אם-תעירו ואם-תעוררו את האהבה עד שתחפץ
(verse 2:7)
Crudely translated: "I make you swear, daughters of Jerusalem, by gazelles, or by the deer of the field, lest you awaken or arouse the love until is desired."
Now, people usually swear by God, their life, their soul, their honor, Satan - there is a short list of entities whom it is worth swearing to. Needless to say, gazelles and the deer of the field are not on that list. The phrasing is thus utterly incomprehensible...
Until you notice the pun. Gazelles - "tzevaot" - sounds a lot like "Hashem Tzevaot". And deer of the field - "ayalot hasadeh" - sounds a lot like "El Shadai". The verse is none other than a disguised oath in God's name, which would make perfect sense, and not in the name of a wild animal. If you didn't get it the first time, the pun is repeated with a different name of God. The choice of gazelles and deer to make the pun is in line with Shir Hashirim's general tendency to use metaphors from nature.
If two references to God in Shir Hashirim are in fact disguised through natural metaphors (and there is no other way to understand the verse), then perhaps there are others. Perhaps the entire book is such a disguised reference?
Kivud Av Ve'em
You might assume that honoring your parents is the kind of natural good deed which should apply equally to Jews and non-Jews, like not committing adultery or establishing a fair court system. But interestingly, there are sources which seem to indicate otherwise. The mitzvah of kivud av ve'em appears in the first half of the Ten Commandments. The normal division of five and five would thus place this command among the mitzvot bein adam lemakom, not those bein adam lechavero. And out of the Ten Commandments, only kivud av ve'em and Shabbat do not find parallels in the seven commandments to non-Jews, which are often identified with natural morality. Why?
Perhaps one important aspect of kivud av ve'em is the preservation the covenant. A main function of the Jewish parent/child relationship would be to transmit religious beliefs and behavior to the next generation, and respecting your parents would facilitate this. Since non-Jews do not need to transmit Judaism to their kids, a lesser degree of parental respect would be required of them.
Certainly one of the major roles of a Jewish parent is to provide the children with religious knowledge and consciousness. In several places (shema, sipur yetziat mitzrayim), we find the parent specifically is commanded to teach Torah to his children. Many Biblical verses testify that this is not an occasional obligation, but rather the parent should be the primary source of religious knowledge. "Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders and they will say to you" (Devarim 32:7). "Hear, my son, the guidance of your father; do not dismiss your mother's Torah" (Mishlei 1:8). God is often referred to as "the God of your fathers" - without revelation to the fathers (parents) and transmission to their offspring we would not have a relationship with God. Religious people (Melachim 2 2:12) and even kings (Melachim 2 6:21) refer to prophets as "father" - this particular term of respect being chosen in reference to the prophet's role as a religious teacher.
Halachically, the verse "Mipnei seivah takum" is interpreted as not just the older generation in general, but specifically Torah scholars, those who transmit the covenant. Many of the laws of honoring your rabbi are similar to those honoring your parents, hinting to a common reason for the respect. And perhaps, the punishment for cursing your parents is death, because it means cursing the source of your religion, and thus is tantamount to blasphemy. In each case, the parent's special position in the commandment comes about in connection to the teaching of Torah and transmission of Judaism.
More speculatively, we might go a step further and suggest that something is fundamentally lacking in parenthood which does not involve the teaching of Judaism. Halachically, the laws of inheritance do not apply to converts to Judaism. Is this because, as usually explained, converts are "born anew" and thus are in some sense not related to their biological families? Or more radically, perhaps the Torah does not fully recognize non-Jewish parenthood at all (since it cannot contribute to transmission of Judaism) and thus non-Jews fundamentally have no inheritance whatsoever? (Admittedly, there are major problems with this hypothesis.)
In any case, even if kivud av ve'em is counted one of the mitzvot bein adam lemakom in the Ten Commandments, it is also the very last one of them, immediately adjoining the mitzvot bein adam lechavero and apparently serving as a bridge between the two groups. Whatever the ritual dimensions of the commandment may be, you may not neglect the natural moral sensibility which should go into your relationship with your parents.
Perhaps one important aspect of kivud av ve'em is the preservation the covenant. A main function of the Jewish parent/child relationship would be to transmit religious beliefs and behavior to the next generation, and respecting your parents would facilitate this. Since non-Jews do not need to transmit Judaism to their kids, a lesser degree of parental respect would be required of them.
Certainly one of the major roles of a Jewish parent is to provide the children with religious knowledge and consciousness. In several places (shema, sipur yetziat mitzrayim), we find the parent specifically is commanded to teach Torah to his children. Many Biblical verses testify that this is not an occasional obligation, but rather the parent should be the primary source of religious knowledge. "Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders and they will say to you" (Devarim 32:7). "Hear, my son, the guidance of your father; do not dismiss your mother's Torah" (Mishlei 1:8). God is often referred to as "the God of your fathers" - without revelation to the fathers (parents) and transmission to their offspring we would not have a relationship with God. Religious people (Melachim 2 2:12) and even kings (Melachim 2 6:21) refer to prophets as "father" - this particular term of respect being chosen in reference to the prophet's role as a religious teacher.
Halachically, the verse "Mipnei seivah takum" is interpreted as not just the older generation in general, but specifically Torah scholars, those who transmit the covenant. Many of the laws of honoring your rabbi are similar to those honoring your parents, hinting to a common reason for the respect. And perhaps, the punishment for cursing your parents is death, because it means cursing the source of your religion, and thus is tantamount to blasphemy. In each case, the parent's special position in the commandment comes about in connection to the teaching of Torah and transmission of Judaism.
More speculatively, we might go a step further and suggest that something is fundamentally lacking in parenthood which does not involve the teaching of Judaism. Halachically, the laws of inheritance do not apply to converts to Judaism. Is this because, as usually explained, converts are "born anew" and thus are in some sense not related to their biological families? Or more radically, perhaps the Torah does not fully recognize non-Jewish parenthood at all (since it cannot contribute to transmission of Judaism) and thus non-Jews fundamentally have no inheritance whatsoever? (Admittedly, there are major problems with this hypothesis.)
In any case, even if kivud av ve'em is counted one of the mitzvot bein adam lemakom in the Ten Commandments, it is also the very last one of them, immediately adjoining the mitzvot bein adam lechavero and apparently serving as a bridge between the two groups. Whatever the ritual dimensions of the commandment may be, you may not neglect the natural moral sensibility which should go into your relationship with your parents.
Friday, August 18, 2006
Shiloh
The Mishkan was located in Shiloh for hundreds of years. According to the Gemara (Megillah 9b, Zevachim 112b), Shiloh had almost the status that Jerusalem would later have: the mishkan was given stone walls; pilgrimage from the entire country came to Shiloh; sacrifices in other places were prohibited. But early in the life of Shmuel haNavi, Shiloh was sacked by Philistines and the mishkan destroyed. This was a momentous event, perhaps similar to the destructions of the two Temples. Israel's first request for a king came shortly after the destruction, presumably due to the terrible military weakness which they thought was caused by disunity and lack of a strong leader.
Sefer Shmuel Alef, chapter 4, describes how Philistines captured the Ark of the Covenant which had been taken into battle, and how high priest Eli's family was almost wiped out. But for some reason, the destruction of Shiloh is omitted. Later in Tanach (for example Yirmiyahu 26:6) we find passing references to the great destruction which took place. It is from these sources and archaeology that we know that there in fact was a destruction. But there is no mention whatsoever in Shmuel Alef. Chapter 4 spends a lot of time saying how each of Eli's children died, and how contemporary events are reflected in the name of his grandson ("I-chavod"), while omitting the most important of those events. Why?
To answer this, I think we have to look at the overall focus of Sefer Shmuel. I would argue that the book deals not with the history of Israel per se, but particularly with several of Israel's leaders. Most of the book focuses on Shaul and David. We hear how Shaul was selected, his potential as king, and how he then blew his chance and had the royalty taken from him. After that the book focuses solely on David: how he became king and how he was a better, though perhaps flawed, king than Shaul had been. It would not be farfetched to say that the entire purpose of Sefer Shmuel is to justify the choice of David's dynasty and confirm that the Mashiach will eventually come from his offspring, not Shaul's.
In the first few chapters of Sefer Shmuel, Shaul and David and their rivalry have not yet been presented. But a very similar dispute over authority does appear. Eli, the established priest in Shiloh, loses his position as spiritual leader to the charismatic Shmuel. Just as the bulk of the book focuses on justifying David's political authority in place of Shaul, I think these first chapters focus on justifying Shmuel's place as spiritual leader in place of Eli.
Thus, since the purpose of the book is to present personalities and not national history, events which do not directly relate to the personalities can be omitted. It is necessary to tell about the battle in which the Ark is captured, not only because it shows how low Israel has sunk under Eli's tenure, but also because it directly leads the death of Eli and his children. Their death, of course, must be mentioned for the same reasons.
But once we know the fate of Eli's family, there is no need to recount events which took place afterwards. We already know that Eli led the nation to defeat. If the destruction of Shiloh were to be mentioned once the focus of the book had shifted from Eli to Shmuel, we might mistakenly think that Shmuel was responsible for that misfortune. In order to avoid such an impression, the destruction of Shiloh is left out entirely. There is no danger of over-justifying Eli (apparently a nice guy, but a terrible leader), because enough negative events have already been mentioned that we know he was a failure.
Sefer Shmuel Alef, chapter 4, describes how Philistines captured the Ark of the Covenant which had been taken into battle, and how high priest Eli's family was almost wiped out. But for some reason, the destruction of Shiloh is omitted. Later in Tanach (for example Yirmiyahu 26:6) we find passing references to the great destruction which took place. It is from these sources and archaeology that we know that there in fact was a destruction. But there is no mention whatsoever in Shmuel Alef. Chapter 4 spends a lot of time saying how each of Eli's children died, and how contemporary events are reflected in the name of his grandson ("I-chavod"), while omitting the most important of those events. Why?
To answer this, I think we have to look at the overall focus of Sefer Shmuel. I would argue that the book deals not with the history of Israel per se, but particularly with several of Israel's leaders. Most of the book focuses on Shaul and David. We hear how Shaul was selected, his potential as king, and how he then blew his chance and had the royalty taken from him. After that the book focuses solely on David: how he became king and how he was a better, though perhaps flawed, king than Shaul had been. It would not be farfetched to say that the entire purpose of Sefer Shmuel is to justify the choice of David's dynasty and confirm that the Mashiach will eventually come from his offspring, not Shaul's.
In the first few chapters of Sefer Shmuel, Shaul and David and their rivalry have not yet been presented. But a very similar dispute over authority does appear. Eli, the established priest in Shiloh, loses his position as spiritual leader to the charismatic Shmuel. Just as the bulk of the book focuses on justifying David's political authority in place of Shaul, I think these first chapters focus on justifying Shmuel's place as spiritual leader in place of Eli.
Thus, since the purpose of the book is to present personalities and not national history, events which do not directly relate to the personalities can be omitted. It is necessary to tell about the battle in which the Ark is captured, not only because it shows how low Israel has sunk under Eli's tenure, but also because it directly leads the death of Eli and his children. Their death, of course, must be mentioned for the same reasons.
But once we know the fate of Eli's family, there is no need to recount events which took place afterwards. We already know that Eli led the nation to defeat. If the destruction of Shiloh were to be mentioned once the focus of the book had shifted from Eli to Shmuel, we might mistakenly think that Shmuel was responsible for that misfortune. In order to avoid such an impression, the destruction of Shiloh is left out entirely. There is no danger of over-justifying Eli (apparently a nice guy, but a terrible leader), because enough negative events have already been mentioned that we know he was a failure.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)