David took the head of the Philistine [Goliath], and brought it to Jerusalem. ... And as David returned from the slaughter of the Philistines, Avner took him, and brought him before Shaul with the head of the Philistine in his hand. (Shmuel Alef 17:54-17:57)
After killing Goliath, David took the dead giant's head to Jerusalem, to show off to the king Shaul.
In Shmuel Bet chapter 5 we learn that Jerusalem was a Jebusite city, which was only conquered and made the capital of Israel after David became king! So what is David doing, years beforehand, bringing Goliath's head to a non-Israelite city? Would a Mossad agent have brought Imad Mugniyah's head to show off to Ehud Olmert in, say, Beirut or Cairo?
To understand this, I think we have to look at the context of David's conquest of Jerusalem. In chapters 2 to 4 there is a bloody civil war between David and Shaul's son Ish-Boshet, each of whom intends to be king over all Israel. At the beginning of chapter five, the Ish-Boshet side finally capitulates and all of Israel recognizes David as king. The very next story is David's conquest of Jerusalem.
I think it's no coincidence that Shaul happened to visit the same city, which David conquered right after subjugating Shaul's tribe and dynasty. Jerusalem is located right on the border between the tribes of Binyamin and Yehudah. In the rivalry and conflict between these tribes, represented by the conflicts between Shaul/Ish-Boshet and David, it is hard to imagine that Jerusalem remained impartial. Presumably, at an early date Jerusalem declared itself a close ally of Binyamin and Shaul's dynasty. Thus Shaul could be expected to frequently visit Jerusalem (and showing them Goliath's head is a good way of emphasizing Israelite strength, and how it's worth it to stay allied with Shaul). And when open warfare broke out between Binyamin and Yehudah, Jerusalem allied with the former, and remained opposed to David until he finally conquered it.
David then declared Jerusalem to be the national capital, in which the Temple would later be built. From a practical perspective, this meant putting the past threats to his power right under his nose, where he could ensure they did not threaten him again. At the same time, choosing a capital on the border between Yehudah and Binyamin symbolized the reconciliation between those tribes, and the peace which he hoped would prevail throughout the entire nation.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Me too!!!
As if an undergrad strike wasn't enough. And a faculty strike wasn't enough. Now the grad students are planning to strike, starting this Thursday. That means me! However, since I am not being a TA right now, this won't affect me until after Pesach, when I'm scheduled to start TAing again. (But I hope this nonsense is finished long before then.)
Friday, February 15, 2008
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Hebron
The few hundred Jews living in Hebron have a rather well-deserved reputation for hostility towards the Arabs of Hebron. Their track record of harassing and physically abusing their neighbors goes well beyond that of any other Jewish community in the world. Much of this has been publicized, and the Hebron Jews are therefore probably the most-hated group of settlers among the Israeli left wing and international organizations.
Based on that history, what do the Arabs of Hebron think of these Jews? Surely the violence and intimidation they have suffered makes them hate and resent the Jewish presence more than Arabs anywhere else in Israel? Let us hear what they have to say.
"We don't see you as settlers but as residents", their Arab neighbors now say. "Hebron is ours just as it is yours."
Wow. When have any Arabs, anywhere, ever said that Jews in the West Bank are "residents, not settlers", that the West Bank legitimately belongs to them too? As far as I know this degree of respect for them is unprecedented. Could there be any better proof that "Arabs only understand force"?
Now, I know that an "effective" policy is not synonymous with a "moral" policy. And so I cannot support everything the Hebron settlers have done, even if it has earned them legitimacy in their neighbors' eyes. But in terms of obtaining a clearheaded perspective on the Israel/Palestinian conflict, and learning to eliminate policy options which will inevitably be counterproductive, wouldn't this story be a good place to start?
Based on that history, what do the Arabs of Hebron think of these Jews? Surely the violence and intimidation they have suffered makes them hate and resent the Jewish presence more than Arabs anywhere else in Israel? Let us hear what they have to say.
"We don't see you as settlers but as residents", their Arab neighbors now say. "Hebron is ours just as it is yours."
Wow. When have any Arabs, anywhere, ever said that Jews in the West Bank are "residents, not settlers", that the West Bank legitimately belongs to them too? As far as I know this degree of respect for them is unprecedented. Could there be any better proof that "Arabs only understand force"?
Now, I know that an "effective" policy is not synonymous with a "moral" policy. And so I cannot support everything the Hebron settlers have done, even if it has earned them legitimacy in their neighbors' eyes. But in terms of obtaining a clearheaded perspective on the Israel/Palestinian conflict, and learning to eliminate policy options which will inevitably be counterproductive, wouldn't this story be a good place to start?
Saturday, February 09, 2008
And I thought I was doing MY job badly
A taxi driver asked me for directions earlier tonight. What's up with that?
Halachic change
Here's a response I wrote to a comment on somebody's blog. It still needs work, but the rewards of that work are less than the cost in time and effort, so I have no incentive to improve it further. But I think it contains enough good ideas that I don't want it lost forever to history, so I'll quote it here for my own future reference.
========
On the other hand, there's something I've been paying more and more attention to that is somewhat troubling. I never realized how many concepts in the Torah we've basically written off as not relevant. Shmitat ksafim (and the debate about shmitat karka), the prohibition on interest, even the need for two witnesses and warnings for capital punishment (see Drashot HaRan on Shoftim). I completely understand the need to adapt - and I do identify more with chazal's takanot. But on the other hand, if the social and legal structures in the Torah aren't relevant, and couldn't predict the life we live in now - than why should the ritual ones have such power?
Change of custom in itself is not a theological problem. Custom naturally develops over time; were that not the case different customs regarding a single issue would never exist.
One real value of customs (and ritual mitzvot) is that that they provide a sense of continuity. Ideological movements (romanticism, communism, the Enlightenment) rarely remain popular for more than about a century, whereas religions routinely last for thousand of years. That's the case regardless of the truth of the ideology/religion. The emotional resonance of customs and rituals is one big reason why. By lighting shabbat candles, we help ensure that our great-grandchildren will follow our ideals of morality. For that purpose, it does not matter if the manner of candle lighting changes a bit over time, nor that we recognize that such changes can and do take place.
Obviously, though, any explicit mitzvah which has come to be neglected should be observed according to halacha. Halachically speaking, a "minhag" which contradicts halacha is not a valid minhag. Practically speaking, in cases where custom contradicts halacha, that custom is objectively acting against and not preserving that aspect of halacha.
When God commanded us to use edim, hatraah, and so on, He knew that this would not be sufficient for conviction in many cases. If the best solution available is to use secular power to punish as well, then that is how God would have wanted us to act. God presumably intended for us to punish criminal by any possible legitimate means, so the secular judgment expresses His will as the beit din's judgment would have.
Concern about the "relevance" of a mitzvah is a theological difficulty which follows from a more fundamental theological difficulty: doubting God's omniscience and/or the truth of the Torah. While most of us have had these doubts, they are an issue to be recognized as problematic and worked on. Of course it immensely helps to realize that not all Divine will is expressed in legal statements (as one example "gadol shimush talmidei chachamim yoter melimud torah"), and that God doesn't hold it against us if we try our hardest, yet the Torah's vision of society is not achieved.
An instructive parallel is the issue of haaramah, where we mostly say that is OK to "trick" God (i.e. mechirat chametz), because after all God knew about the halachic loopholes when he gave the Torah, and implicitly allowed us to use them. Here too, a correct perception of God's powers and role nullifies concerns we might have about halacha's implementation.
========
On the other hand, there's something I've been paying more and more attention to that is somewhat troubling. I never realized how many concepts in the Torah we've basically written off as not relevant. Shmitat ksafim (and the debate about shmitat karka), the prohibition on interest, even the need for two witnesses and warnings for capital punishment (see Drashot HaRan on Shoftim). I completely understand the need to adapt - and I do identify more with chazal's takanot. But on the other hand, if the social and legal structures in the Torah aren't relevant, and couldn't predict the life we live in now - than why should the ritual ones have such power?
Change of custom in itself is not a theological problem. Custom naturally develops over time; were that not the case different customs regarding a single issue would never exist.
One real value of customs (and ritual mitzvot) is that that they provide a sense of continuity. Ideological movements (romanticism, communism, the Enlightenment) rarely remain popular for more than about a century, whereas religions routinely last for thousand of years. That's the case regardless of the truth of the ideology/religion. The emotional resonance of customs and rituals is one big reason why. By lighting shabbat candles, we help ensure that our great-grandchildren will follow our ideals of morality. For that purpose, it does not matter if the manner of candle lighting changes a bit over time, nor that we recognize that such changes can and do take place.
Obviously, though, any explicit mitzvah which has come to be neglected should be observed according to halacha. Halachically speaking, a "minhag" which contradicts halacha is not a valid minhag. Practically speaking, in cases where custom contradicts halacha, that custom is objectively acting against and not preserving that aspect of halacha.
When God commanded us to use edim, hatraah, and so on, He knew that this would not be sufficient for conviction in many cases. If the best solution available is to use secular power to punish as well, then that is how God would have wanted us to act. God presumably intended for us to punish criminal by any possible legitimate means, so the secular judgment expresses His will as the beit din's judgment would have.
Concern about the "relevance" of a mitzvah is a theological difficulty which follows from a more fundamental theological difficulty: doubting God's omniscience and/or the truth of the Torah. While most of us have had these doubts, they are an issue to be recognized as problematic and worked on. Of course it immensely helps to realize that not all Divine will is expressed in legal statements (as one example "gadol shimush talmidei chachamim yoter melimud torah"), and that God doesn't hold it against us if we try our hardest, yet the Torah's vision of society is not achieved.
An instructive parallel is the issue of haaramah, where we mostly say that is OK to "trick" God (i.e. mechirat chametz), because after all God knew about the halachic loopholes when he gave the Torah, and implicitly allowed us to use them. Here too, a correct perception of God's powers and role nullifies concerns we might have about halacha's implementation.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
Thoughts on Mishpatim
If a man gives his neighbor money or vessels to keep... [Laws of "shomer hinam"] (22:6-8)
If a man gives his neighbor a donkey, ox, sheep, or any beast to keep... [Laws of "shomer sachar"] (22:9-12)
These passages are the source for the halachic concepts of "shomer hinam" and "shomer sachar" - the consequences for unpaid and paid guardians of property when the property is lost, stolen, or destroyed. The consequences are, of course, more serious when you are being paid to be the guardian and nevertheless something goes wrong.
It's interesting that the verses themselves never mention whether or not the guardian is getting paid. In fact, there seems to be a clear, different distinction between the cases: the second case deals with live animals, the first with all other property. What then is the basis for deriving the concepts of "shomer hinam" and "shomer sachar" from these verses?
To answer this, we must first remember that parshat Mishpatim consists of "case law", in which specific applications of the law are used as examples from which the law in other cases can be derived by comparison. For example, if my animal kills your animal, I'm halachically required to pay you certain amount of damages. This is true no matter which species of animal does the killing. But parshat Mishpatim doesn't say "If an animal kills another animal", but rather "If an ox gores another ox". The reason is that oxen were the most dangerous domestic animals in the ancient Middle East. If one animal killed another, it was most likely a case of one ox goring another ox. Only this most common case is specified, and we are expected to determine the law for all other cases by analogy.
We must therefore ask about each law in parshat Mishpatim: is it intended to be self-contained, or is it just one example of a more universal principle? This determination should be made using common sense. For example, I see no justification for a special law for when my ox gores your ox, which doesn't apply when my sheep butts your sheep or my dog bites your ox. It's more reasonable that a single principle should apply to all cases of animal damage. Since that understanding makes the most sense, and since special laws for the sheep and dog cases are noticeably absent, I can tentatively conclude that the ox case was intended to cover all animal damage cases.
Let me try the same analysis with the two guardian cases. I, at least, can't think of any logical reason why a guardian should have to pay for an animal stolen from him, but not for other stolen property. One possible parallel is the convicted thief, who pays fourfold or fivefold if he sold or killed a stolen animal, but only pays double in all other cases of theft. But this seems intended to deter killing the animal (which would make the crime harder to reverse), and would be less relevant in the guardian case.
Perhaps a better distinction follows from the fact that guarding animals is unlike guarding other types of property. Non-living property can simply be placed in a vault and forgotten about until the owner wants it back. In contrast, keeping an animal requires constant effort. The animal must be fed, cleaned up after, taken for walks, watched for diseases, and so on. This is an extra commitment beyond a person's normal workload, and in the case of food it represents a significant expense.
Therefore, my guess is that while a person would willingly guard a nonliving object, it would take a substantial payment to get someone to guard an animal for any substantial length of time. Perhaps it can be presumed that animal guardianships were generally paid, while other guardianships generally were not.
With that assumption, the halachic difference between the cases is trivial to understand. Extra payment implies an extra level of responsibility. If the guarded object is stolen or destroyed, only the paid guardian is held responsible.
Now, this may not be the only reasonable understanding of the verses, but it's at least as defendable as any other I can think of. There is inherently a level of ambiguity in the "case law" method. When the principles are not stated, it's always possible that someone might disagree with me and assume the existence of a different principle than I do. This can be a disadvantage in that the laws are more ambiguous. But it can also be an advantage, in that there is more flexibility to sensibly solve complicated cases, without being anchored to an explicitly stated principle even when it leads to contradictions or unfairness.
Practically speaking, though, parshat Mishpatim is not detailed enough to give a conclusive ruling in many cases. That is why we had a single Sanhedrin to decide all cases for the Jewish people, and why we now have an "oral" tradition which records how these laws are in fact to be applied.
Whether the "correct" interpretation recorded in the oral tradition was specified at Sinai, or whether God intentionally left to us to interpret and apply parshat Mishpatim as we thought best, is a very interesting question to which I do not know the answer.
If a man gives his neighbor a donkey, ox, sheep, or any beast to keep... [Laws of "shomer sachar"] (22:9-12)
These passages are the source for the halachic concepts of "shomer hinam" and "shomer sachar" - the consequences for unpaid and paid guardians of property when the property is lost, stolen, or destroyed. The consequences are, of course, more serious when you are being paid to be the guardian and nevertheless something goes wrong.
It's interesting that the verses themselves never mention whether or not the guardian is getting paid. In fact, there seems to be a clear, different distinction between the cases: the second case deals with live animals, the first with all other property. What then is the basis for deriving the concepts of "shomer hinam" and "shomer sachar" from these verses?
To answer this, we must first remember that parshat Mishpatim consists of "case law", in which specific applications of the law are used as examples from which the law in other cases can be derived by comparison. For example, if my animal kills your animal, I'm halachically required to pay you certain amount of damages. This is true no matter which species of animal does the killing. But parshat Mishpatim doesn't say "If an animal kills another animal", but rather "If an ox gores another ox". The reason is that oxen were the most dangerous domestic animals in the ancient Middle East. If one animal killed another, it was most likely a case of one ox goring another ox. Only this most common case is specified, and we are expected to determine the law for all other cases by analogy.
We must therefore ask about each law in parshat Mishpatim: is it intended to be self-contained, or is it just one example of a more universal principle? This determination should be made using common sense. For example, I see no justification for a special law for when my ox gores your ox, which doesn't apply when my sheep butts your sheep or my dog bites your ox. It's more reasonable that a single principle should apply to all cases of animal damage. Since that understanding makes the most sense, and since special laws for the sheep and dog cases are noticeably absent, I can tentatively conclude that the ox case was intended to cover all animal damage cases.
Let me try the same analysis with the two guardian cases. I, at least, can't think of any logical reason why a guardian should have to pay for an animal stolen from him, but not for other stolen property. One possible parallel is the convicted thief, who pays fourfold or fivefold if he sold or killed a stolen animal, but only pays double in all other cases of theft. But this seems intended to deter killing the animal (which would make the crime harder to reverse), and would be less relevant in the guardian case.
Perhaps a better distinction follows from the fact that guarding animals is unlike guarding other types of property. Non-living property can simply be placed in a vault and forgotten about until the owner wants it back. In contrast, keeping an animal requires constant effort. The animal must be fed, cleaned up after, taken for walks, watched for diseases, and so on. This is an extra commitment beyond a person's normal workload, and in the case of food it represents a significant expense.
Therefore, my guess is that while a person would willingly guard a nonliving object, it would take a substantial payment to get someone to guard an animal for any substantial length of time. Perhaps it can be presumed that animal guardianships were generally paid, while other guardianships generally were not.
With that assumption, the halachic difference between the cases is trivial to understand. Extra payment implies an extra level of responsibility. If the guarded object is stolen or destroyed, only the paid guardian is held responsible.
Now, this may not be the only reasonable understanding of the verses, but it's at least as defendable as any other I can think of. There is inherently a level of ambiguity in the "case law" method. When the principles are not stated, it's always possible that someone might disagree with me and assume the existence of a different principle than I do. This can be a disadvantage in that the laws are more ambiguous. But it can also be an advantage, in that there is more flexibility to sensibly solve complicated cases, without being anchored to an explicitly stated principle even when it leads to contradictions or unfairness.
Practically speaking, though, parshat Mishpatim is not detailed enough to give a conclusive ruling in many cases. That is why we had a single Sanhedrin to decide all cases for the Jewish people, and why we now have an "oral" tradition which records how these laws are in fact to be applied.
Whether the "correct" interpretation recorded in the oral tradition was specified at Sinai, or whether God intentionally left to us to interpret and apply parshat Mishpatim as we thought best, is a very interesting question to which I do not know the answer.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Cheaters sometimes win
(I can't mention cheating without thinking of the New England Patriots, who just had their perfect season ended by a surprise loss in the Super Bowl. Woohoo! It's pretty awesome that in one game, their legacy went from best-ever to most-embarrassing-and-painful-loss-ever. There, got that that out of my system, now on to the actual post.)
As part of my graduate school work, I grade homework assignments for an undergrad class. It so happens that the homework problems for this class are exactly this year as last year. It also happens that, for one week's homework, the official answer sheet (for last year and this year) includes a mistake.
Would it surprise you to learn that roughly two-thirds of the class wrote down not the right answer, but the exact same incorrect answer which was on the answer sheet?
It's clear to me that all these students possess copies of the answer sheet from last year, and they are copying from it instead of doing the problems themselves. I even saw one student's homework, on which he wrote down the correct answer, but then apparently modified it in each of the last four steps to make it look like he honestly got the official (wrong) answer.
The problem is, since I have no proof than any of these students didn't just make a stupid mistake, there is nothing I can do about this apparent cheating.
I guess it's unrealistic to expect that cheating is any less pervasive here than in the US... but still.
As part of my graduate school work, I grade homework assignments for an undergrad class. It so happens that the homework problems for this class are exactly this year as last year. It also happens that, for one week's homework, the official answer sheet (for last year and this year) includes a mistake.
Would it surprise you to learn that roughly two-thirds of the class wrote down not the right answer, but the exact same incorrect answer which was on the answer sheet?
It's clear to me that all these students possess copies of the answer sheet from last year, and they are copying from it instead of doing the problems themselves. I even saw one student's homework, on which he wrote down the correct answer, but then apparently modified it in each of the last four steps to make it look like he honestly got the official (wrong) answer.
The problem is, since I have no proof than any of these students didn't just make a stupid mistake, there is nothing I can do about this apparent cheating.
I guess it's unrealistic to expect that cheating is any less pervasive here than in the US... but still.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Coincidence?
Q: How can you cook kosher food in a non-kosher oven and not have it become non-kosher?
A: Put it in two sealed containers, one inside the other.
Q: How can you prevent spilled mercury from escaping into the environment and poisoning people?
A: Put it in two sealed plastic bags, one inside the other.
A: Put it in two sealed containers, one inside the other.
Q: How can you prevent spilled mercury from escaping into the environment and poisoning people?
A: Put it in two sealed plastic bags, one inside the other.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Too clever for his own good
The bizarre-criminal-of-the-day award goes to Amr Mohsen, an incredibly brilliant electrical engineer and inventor working in Silicon Valley (in much the same specialty I plan to), who apparently never noticed when the time came to stop inventing.
According to Wikipedia, one of Mohsen's business partners started a lawsuit with a third party, regarding one of Mohsen's patents. In order to help his case, Mohsen:
Just incredible.
According to Wikipedia, one of Mohsen's business partners started a lawsuit with a third party, regarding one of Mohsen's patents. In order to help his case, Mohsen:
...forged a notebook in order to make the patent case stronger. When suspicions were raised, he staged a break-in of his own car to get rid of the evidence, resulting in charges of obstruction of justice. Trying to avoid this, he attempted to flee the country, only to be caught with an illegal passport and a pile of cash. While in jail for this offense, he was recorded offering money to intimidate witnesses and kill the judge. In order to fight these charges, he tried to show psychological problems, but left a trail of evidence of his research into this defense, and how it might be done. He was charged with attempting to delay a federal trial by feigning incompetency, and convicted anyway. According to the lawyers concerned, the original notebooks were not needed for the trial. The patent filing date, which was not in dispute, would have sufficed.
Just incredible.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Why the Jewish calendar rocks
Do you know the song "hashkediyah porachat" which everyone sings on Tu Bishvat? How can you not know it? How can you not be sick of it? Anyway, it says that every year in Israel, the almond trees begin blooming around Tu Bishevat.
That's a pretty useless piece of information if, like me, you have never seen an almond tree in your life. But if you do have almond trees nearby, it just might come in handy. Imagine you're an almond farmer. Also imagine that it's January 27, the 20th of Shevat - but you don't have a calendar, so you don't know this. Somebody comes by and asks you what the date is. You can't just look at the calendar and tell them. So you look out the window and do some quick calculations. Your almond trees blossomed roughly a week ago... and that usually happens around Tu Bishevat... so it is almost certainly Shevat now. Maybe Adar, but probably Shevat.
Shevat is not the only month which is easily identified biologically. The Torah describes Moshe's sending the spies as being in "the days of the first fruits of the grapes". It does this as background, because the spies bring back grapes with them. But anyone living in Israel knows that grapes first grow around Tisha Beav, so that must have been when the spies story took place.
In fact, every crop has particular dates on which it sprouts, blossoms, forms fruit, dries up, is harvested, and so on. And the cycles of heat and cold, and rain and dryness are predictable too. So a thoughtful observer, without seeing a calendar, can almost always make a very good guess as to what the month is.
What about the day of the month? Here the calendar's lunar aspect becomes indispensable. Look up in the night sky, and you can immediately tell what day of the month it is, more or less. New moons occur on the first of the month, full moons on the 15th. In-between phases correspond to other days. Also, though I have not seen this mentioned anywhere, the time at which the moon rises varies predictably with the day of the month. So by looking at the moon's position at sunrise/sunset, you could get a more accurate estimate of the day of the month. Overall, I think you can consistently estimate the day of the month to within one day, maybe two.
Going by the fruit-and-moon method, how accurate would your dating be? There's a good chance you would be off by a day or two, and a smaller chance you'd be off by an entire month. But much of the time, you could exactly guess the date simply by looking at the natural signs around you.
Such precision is not possible with either a solar or a lunar calendar, only with a mixed calendar such as the Jewish one. I don't know what other cultures did before urbanization and mass literacy allowed everyone to know the date. Perhaps they were just ignorant of it. In any case, when the prophets wrote in the Bible that such and such happened on such and such a date, I'm sure they didn't check their cell phone displays before recording whatever happened. Perhaps they consulted written records, if available. Or perhaps they just went into the field, and used natural signals to reach the exact same conclusion.
That's a pretty useless piece of information if, like me, you have never seen an almond tree in your life. But if you do have almond trees nearby, it just might come in handy. Imagine you're an almond farmer. Also imagine that it's January 27, the 20th of Shevat - but you don't have a calendar, so you don't know this. Somebody comes by and asks you what the date is. You can't just look at the calendar and tell them. So you look out the window and do some quick calculations. Your almond trees blossomed roughly a week ago... and that usually happens around Tu Bishevat... so it is almost certainly Shevat now. Maybe Adar, but probably Shevat.
Shevat is not the only month which is easily identified biologically. The Torah describes Moshe's sending the spies as being in "the days of the first fruits of the grapes". It does this as background, because the spies bring back grapes with them. But anyone living in Israel knows that grapes first grow around Tisha Beav, so that must have been when the spies story took place.
In fact, every crop has particular dates on which it sprouts, blossoms, forms fruit, dries up, is harvested, and so on. And the cycles of heat and cold, and rain and dryness are predictable too. So a thoughtful observer, without seeing a calendar, can almost always make a very good guess as to what the month is.
What about the day of the month? Here the calendar's lunar aspect becomes indispensable. Look up in the night sky, and you can immediately tell what day of the month it is, more or less. New moons occur on the first of the month, full moons on the 15th. In-between phases correspond to other days. Also, though I have not seen this mentioned anywhere, the time at which the moon rises varies predictably with the day of the month. So by looking at the moon's position at sunrise/sunset, you could get a more accurate estimate of the day of the month. Overall, I think you can consistently estimate the day of the month to within one day, maybe two.
Going by the fruit-and-moon method, how accurate would your dating be? There's a good chance you would be off by a day or two, and a smaller chance you'd be off by an entire month. But much of the time, you could exactly guess the date simply by looking at the natural signs around you.
Such precision is not possible with either a solar or a lunar calendar, only with a mixed calendar such as the Jewish one. I don't know what other cultures did before urbanization and mass literacy allowed everyone to know the date. Perhaps they were just ignorant of it. In any case, when the prophets wrote in the Bible that such and such happened on such and such a date, I'm sure they didn't check their cell phone displays before recording whatever happened. Perhaps they consulted written records, if available. Or perhaps they just went into the field, and used natural signals to reach the exact same conclusion.
Peace in our time
Arun Gandhi, grandson of the famous Mohandas Gandhi, has resigned from the "Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence" after his comments about Jews and Israel led to extensive criticism. The head of the ADL called it "shameful that a peace institute would be headed up by a bigot." Due to the perception that Arun Gandhi was a bad fit for an organization bearing Mohandas' name, Arun was pressured to resign.
However, knowing the older Gandhi's positions on Jews and Israel gives a different - and more disturbing - perspective to his grandson's comments. It seems the younger Gandhi, in his comments, does not so much betray his grandfather's ideals as follow them faithfully.
Regarding the Holocaust, Mohandas Gandhi once speculated that "if the Jewish mind could be prepared for voluntary suffering, even the massacre... could be turned into a day of thanksgiving and joy that Jehovah had wrought deliverance of the race even at the hands of the tyrant." That is to say, the "deliverance" Jews should wait for is the privilege of being massacred.
As a young lawyer in South Africa around 1900, Mohandas Gandhi worked to eliminate discrimination against Indian migrants, but did nothing for the native blacks who were discriminated against to a much greater extent. In fact, he often made apparently derogatory comments about them, for example discussing the "raw kaffir, whose occupation is hunting and whose sole ambition is to collect a certain number of cattle to buy a wife with, and then pass his life in indolence and nakedness". "Kaffir", of course, is the South African equivalent of the American word "nigger".
So it's no surprise that the younger Gandhi thinks the Jews are overplaying the significance of the Holocaust. After all, the older Gandhi thought the Holocaust was a positive experience for them, not a disaster. Nor is it surprising that the younger Gandhi says the Palestinian experience is ten times worse than apartheid. We should be reminded of how little sympathy the older Gandhi had for the suffering of South African blacks.
There is a clear continuity between the Gandhis' positions, and it does not speak well for either of them.
What's intriguing is that the Gandhis ignore Nazi barbarity and simply call on Jews to accept its consequences, while regarding Israel, they are outraged by Jewish decisions yet never consider that Palestinians might protest them non-violently. Shouldn't nonviolence work for Palestinians at least as much for Holocaust victims? Doesn't Nazi extermination deserve at least as much disgust as Israeli occupation? But I guess antisemites in every generation have had, for whatever reason, focused pathologically on Jews and Jewish actions and responses, to the exclusion of any honest moral appraisal involving both sides.
However, knowing the older Gandhi's positions on Jews and Israel gives a different - and more disturbing - perspective to his grandson's comments. It seems the younger Gandhi, in his comments, does not so much betray his grandfather's ideals as follow them faithfully.
Regarding the Holocaust, Mohandas Gandhi once speculated that "if the Jewish mind could be prepared for voluntary suffering, even the massacre... could be turned into a day of thanksgiving and joy that Jehovah had wrought deliverance of the race even at the hands of the tyrant." That is to say, the "deliverance" Jews should wait for is the privilege of being massacred.
As a young lawyer in South Africa around 1900, Mohandas Gandhi worked to eliminate discrimination against Indian migrants, but did nothing for the native blacks who were discriminated against to a much greater extent. In fact, he often made apparently derogatory comments about them, for example discussing the "raw kaffir, whose occupation is hunting and whose sole ambition is to collect a certain number of cattle to buy a wife with, and then pass his life in indolence and nakedness". "Kaffir", of course, is the South African equivalent of the American word "nigger".
So it's no surprise that the younger Gandhi thinks the Jews are overplaying the significance of the Holocaust. After all, the older Gandhi thought the Holocaust was a positive experience for them, not a disaster. Nor is it surprising that the younger Gandhi says the Palestinian experience is ten times worse than apartheid. We should be reminded of how little sympathy the older Gandhi had for the suffering of South African blacks.
There is a clear continuity between the Gandhis' positions, and it does not speak well for either of them.
What's intriguing is that the Gandhis ignore Nazi barbarity and simply call on Jews to accept its consequences, while regarding Israel, they are outraged by Jewish decisions yet never consider that Palestinians might protest them non-violently. Shouldn't nonviolence work for Palestinians at least as much for Holocaust victims? Doesn't Nazi extermination deserve at least as much disgust as Israeli occupation? But I guess antisemites in every generation have had, for whatever reason, focused pathologically on Jews and Jewish actions and responses, to the exclusion of any honest moral appraisal involving both sides.
Nothing is mor authentic
This afternoon, I saw someone wearing an imitation brand-name sweatshirt bearing the following exact text:
"For nwe quolity
REEBOK
Nothing is mor authentic"
I had trouble overcoming the urge to laugh out loud in their face.
"For nwe quolity
REEBOK
Nothing is mor authentic"
I had trouble overcoming the urge to laugh out loud in their face.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Thoughts on Yitro
[Yitro brought Tziporah,] and her two sons; of which one's name was Gershom, because [Moshe] said "I have been a foreigner in an alien country"; and the other's name was Eliezer, because "my father's God was in my aid, and saved me from Pharaoh's sword". (18:3-4)
The commentators rightly point out that while Gershom's birth was mentioned when it occurred, this is the first mention of Eliezer. And once the Torah decided to mention Eliezer (and explain his name), it mentioned Gershom too (and explained his name) for completeness, even though this repeats information we already know from Shemot 2:22.
This explanation of the Gershom-related repetition seems technically reasonable, but I don't find it intuitively satisfying. Or, to put things more clearly, I think it explains the causes of the repetition, but does not attempt to explain the repetition's effects.
As far as the effects go, I think the names must be reexamined now that the Israelites have left Egypt for good. Eliezer was named to commemorate God's saving Moshe from Pharoah after Moshe killed the Egyptian taskmaster. Now, when Moshe is leaving Egypt after the plagues, the name takes on a whole new significance. In the plagues, Moshe had a more direct and violent confrontation with Pharaoh than after killing the Egyptian in his youth. And the degree of God's assistance in the plagues was much, much greater. In retrospect, Eliezer was better named for the events following his birth than for the events before them.
The same is true, with a twist, of Gershom. Moshe had originally meant that he was a stranger in the strange land of Midyan. As he understood it, Egypt was the native country he was forced to leave. But upon leaving slavery, the name Gershom resonates with a different set of historical associations. In truth, Egypt itself was the strange land, which Moshe and the Israelites were leaving after living there as strangers for centuries.
In each case, Moshe named his sons for personal reasons. But when the Israelites leave Egypt, the names come to represent the entire nation's experience. This indicates that Moshe has been transformed from a solitary individual to a leader wholly immersed in the concerns of his people, and points us to a future in which the entire nation's relationship with God is as intimate as Moshe's has been.
And you shall provide from all the people, men of valor, God-fearers, men of truth, who hate unjust gain; and you shall place them as leaders of thousands, leaders of hundreds, leaders of fifties, and leaders of tens. (18:21)
Rashi: men of valor - wealthy men, who have no need for flattery or playing favorites.
men of truth - these are people of whom it's known that it's worth relying on their words; thus their words will be accepted.
who hate unjust gain - who hate [i.e. don't bother pursuing] their money in court, as the gemara says: "Any judge whom money is taken from in court, is not a judge".
The verse seems to be simply asking for people who are honest. But in these three comments, Rashi takes it in a different direction. For him, the quality being sought is public knowledge, not simply the existence, of a person's honesty. A hidden tzaddik would not qualify to be a judge. Rashi is pointing out that a justice system cannot be effective unless the public trusts it and is willing to rely on it.
And Elokim spoke all these words, saying: "I am Hashem your God, who took you out of Egypt..." (20:1-2)
It's beyond the scope of a single blog post to explain every instance in the Torah in which the name "Elokim" is used and not "Hashem" or vice versa. But in this particular case, the reason for the switch between names seems clear.
Compare this verse to the beginning of parshat Vaera: "And Elokim spoke to Moshe, and said to him: 'I am Hashem. I revealed myself to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov as El Shaddai..." (6:2-3)
In both cases, God makes a declaration of immense thematic significance, consisting of a declaration about God followed by commandment(s). In both cases the first words of the declaration are "I am Hashem", and it's the first time that God has used that name to address Moshe/the Jewish people. (At the burning bush, God did not use any name until Moshe asked for it.) And in both cases, the declaration is introduced using the name "Elokim".
It therefore seems that Moshe's experience in parshat Vaera is his personal equivalent of what would took place for the whole people at Sinai: the forging of a new, permanent covenant using the name "Hashem" and all that is associated with it. Before this covenant, the relationship between God and Moshe/Israel was at a level symbolized by the name "Elokim". (To use R' Soloveitchik's terminology, it was a "covenant of fate" and not yet a "covenant of destiny".) With the forging of the covenant, the relationship took a sudden quantum leap forward. This qualitative change is indicated by a change in the name of God used - from "Elokim" to "Hashem", both in parshat Vaera and at the giving of the Torah.
The commentators rightly point out that while Gershom's birth was mentioned when it occurred, this is the first mention of Eliezer. And once the Torah decided to mention Eliezer (and explain his name), it mentioned Gershom too (and explained his name) for completeness, even though this repeats information we already know from Shemot 2:22.
This explanation of the Gershom-related repetition seems technically reasonable, but I don't find it intuitively satisfying. Or, to put things more clearly, I think it explains the causes of the repetition, but does not attempt to explain the repetition's effects.
As far as the effects go, I think the names must be reexamined now that the Israelites have left Egypt for good. Eliezer was named to commemorate God's saving Moshe from Pharoah after Moshe killed the Egyptian taskmaster. Now, when Moshe is leaving Egypt after the plagues, the name takes on a whole new significance. In the plagues, Moshe had a more direct and violent confrontation with Pharaoh than after killing the Egyptian in his youth. And the degree of God's assistance in the plagues was much, much greater. In retrospect, Eliezer was better named for the events following his birth than for the events before them.
The same is true, with a twist, of Gershom. Moshe had originally meant that he was a stranger in the strange land of Midyan. As he understood it, Egypt was the native country he was forced to leave. But upon leaving slavery, the name Gershom resonates with a different set of historical associations. In truth, Egypt itself was the strange land, which Moshe and the Israelites were leaving after living there as strangers for centuries.
In each case, Moshe named his sons for personal reasons. But when the Israelites leave Egypt, the names come to represent the entire nation's experience. This indicates that Moshe has been transformed from a solitary individual to a leader wholly immersed in the concerns of his people, and points us to a future in which the entire nation's relationship with God is as intimate as Moshe's has been.
And you shall provide from all the people, men of valor, God-fearers, men of truth, who hate unjust gain; and you shall place them as leaders of thousands, leaders of hundreds, leaders of fifties, and leaders of tens. (18:21)
Rashi: men of valor - wealthy men, who have no need for flattery or playing favorites.
men of truth - these are people of whom it's known that it's worth relying on their words; thus their words will be accepted.
who hate unjust gain - who hate [i.e. don't bother pursuing] their money in court, as the gemara says: "Any judge whom money is taken from in court, is not a judge".
The verse seems to be simply asking for people who are honest. But in these three comments, Rashi takes it in a different direction. For him, the quality being sought is public knowledge, not simply the existence, of a person's honesty. A hidden tzaddik would not qualify to be a judge. Rashi is pointing out that a justice system cannot be effective unless the public trusts it and is willing to rely on it.
And Elokim spoke all these words, saying: "I am Hashem your God, who took you out of Egypt..." (20:1-2)
It's beyond the scope of a single blog post to explain every instance in the Torah in which the name "Elokim" is used and not "Hashem" or vice versa. But in this particular case, the reason for the switch between names seems clear.
Compare this verse to the beginning of parshat Vaera: "And Elokim spoke to Moshe, and said to him: 'I am Hashem. I revealed myself to Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov as El Shaddai..." (6:2-3)
In both cases, God makes a declaration of immense thematic significance, consisting of a declaration about God followed by commandment(s). In both cases the first words of the declaration are "I am Hashem", and it's the first time that God has used that name to address Moshe/the Jewish people. (At the burning bush, God did not use any name until Moshe asked for it.) And in both cases, the declaration is introduced using the name "Elokim".
It therefore seems that Moshe's experience in parshat Vaera is his personal equivalent of what would took place for the whole people at Sinai: the forging of a new, permanent covenant using the name "Hashem" and all that is associated with it. Before this covenant, the relationship between God and Moshe/Israel was at a level symbolized by the name "Elokim". (To use R' Soloveitchik's terminology, it was a "covenant of fate" and not yet a "covenant of destiny".) With the forging of the covenant, the relationship took a sudden quantum leap forward. This qualitative change is indicated by a change in the name of God used - from "Elokim" to "Hashem", both in parshat Vaera and at the giving of the Torah.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
The things you learn
I wanted to check that I was using a certain Hebrew technical word correctly. So I went to Google Images and typed it in, to see if the pictures would match what I was thinking of.
Oops.
Apparently, the most popular usage of that word online is on porn sites, as a description for part of the female anatomy.
Oops.
Apparently, the most popular usage of that word online is on porn sites, as a description for part of the female anatomy.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Kaboom!!!
What happens to a hefetz hashud after it gets blown up? What if it's YOUR hefetz hashud?
Last Erev Yom Kippur I took the bus from Haifa to Jerusalem, on the way to Gush. I got off at the first stop in Jerusalem - and totally forgot about the bag I'd left in the luggage compartment. A few minutes later, walking down Yafo, I suddenly remembered! I jumped into the nearest taxi and went straight to the end of the bus route, hoping to intercept my bus along the way. At the final destination I waited for half an hour in case the bus would finally show up - but it didn't, and in order to catch the last bus to Gush I had to leave. And so my bag was presumably blown up, on the suspicion that it contained a bomb.
Calling the bus company a few days later, I was directed to the Jerusalem police lost-and-found: if my bag still existed, it existed with them. I called the lost-and-found, but they couldn't find the bag. They said to come in myself and look, just in case. Since I rarely get the chance to spend weekday mornings in Jerusalem, the matter rested there for three months. In any case, the chances of getting anything back looked pretty slim. After all, I hadn't even put my name on the bag.
Today I finally had the chance to spend the morning running errands around Jerusalem. I went to the police station, described my bag and the circumstances I'd lost it in, and was taken to a drafty room lined with shelves full of backpacks and suitcases. After a little looking around I found my bag!!! As soon as I saw it I knew it was mine; its shape was unmistakable.
But when I took it off the shelf, I saw it looked... interesting. The closing flap was undone - not unzipped, but rather the seams had burst - and plastic rope was wrapped around the bag to keep it closed. It turns out they HAD blown it up after all. But since 90% of the contents consisted of either pillow or blanket, the damage had been relatively minor, and the bag contents had survived mostly intact.
After filling out some forms I left, very happy at this turn of events. They even gave me a form with which I could go to another government office and be reimbursed for the damage caused by the explosion!
Now that I'm home again, I did an inventory of the bag's contents. The pillow had absorbed most of the explosive energy, and was rather uglily disembowled. Some of the pillow stuffing had absorbed so much energy that it punched a hole and went straight through the sole of my shower shoes. (The shoes were otherwise in perfect condition.) The blanket received tears and punctures in several places, but is still quite usable. And everything in the side pockets is in perfect shape - including a shaver, which despite being "blown up" still works flawlessly. The bag itself is torn in too many places to be used again. But the items of value inside - the shaver and blanket - were successfully recovered.
It's unfortunate that I could not get pictures of the damaged goods - in particular, the pair of shower shoes, held together by a thick tuft of pillow stuffing embedded in the newly created sole-holes. I now understand that weapons design is not simply a matter of "stick some explosives together, have a beer, and watch it explode". If you do it incorrectly, then all the energy will be dissipated in the wrong places, and the target will survive. Such was the case with my shaver. I just hope the explosion would have been more effective against an actual bomb.
Last Erev Yom Kippur I took the bus from Haifa to Jerusalem, on the way to Gush. I got off at the first stop in Jerusalem - and totally forgot about the bag I'd left in the luggage compartment. A few minutes later, walking down Yafo, I suddenly remembered! I jumped into the nearest taxi and went straight to the end of the bus route, hoping to intercept my bus along the way. At the final destination I waited for half an hour in case the bus would finally show up - but it didn't, and in order to catch the last bus to Gush I had to leave. And so my bag was presumably blown up, on the suspicion that it contained a bomb.
Calling the bus company a few days later, I was directed to the Jerusalem police lost-and-found: if my bag still existed, it existed with them. I called the lost-and-found, but they couldn't find the bag. They said to come in myself and look, just in case. Since I rarely get the chance to spend weekday mornings in Jerusalem, the matter rested there for three months. In any case, the chances of getting anything back looked pretty slim. After all, I hadn't even put my name on the bag.
Today I finally had the chance to spend the morning running errands around Jerusalem. I went to the police station, described my bag and the circumstances I'd lost it in, and was taken to a drafty room lined with shelves full of backpacks and suitcases. After a little looking around I found my bag!!! As soon as I saw it I knew it was mine; its shape was unmistakable.
But when I took it off the shelf, I saw it looked... interesting. The closing flap was undone - not unzipped, but rather the seams had burst - and plastic rope was wrapped around the bag to keep it closed. It turns out they HAD blown it up after all. But since 90% of the contents consisted of either pillow or blanket, the damage had been relatively minor, and the bag contents had survived mostly intact.
After filling out some forms I left, very happy at this turn of events. They even gave me a form with which I could go to another government office and be reimbursed for the damage caused by the explosion!
Now that I'm home again, I did an inventory of the bag's contents. The pillow had absorbed most of the explosive energy, and was rather uglily disembowled. Some of the pillow stuffing had absorbed so much energy that it punched a hole and went straight through the sole of my shower shoes. (The shoes were otherwise in perfect condition.) The blanket received tears and punctures in several places, but is still quite usable. And everything in the side pockets is in perfect shape - including a shaver, which despite being "blown up" still works flawlessly. The bag itself is torn in too many places to be used again. But the items of value inside - the shaver and blanket - were successfully recovered.
It's unfortunate that I could not get pictures of the damaged goods - in particular, the pair of shower shoes, held together by a thick tuft of pillow stuffing embedded in the newly created sole-holes. I now understand that weapons design is not simply a matter of "stick some explosives together, have a beer, and watch it explode". If you do it incorrectly, then all the energy will be dissipated in the wrong places, and the target will survive. Such was the case with my shaver. I just hope the explosion would have been more effective against an actual bomb.
Monday, January 07, 2008
A Thought on Bo
This is the first post on the parsha I've made from the library - which means no time for extensive saving, revising, and editing - which probably means it's less thorough than usual, but also less boring.
Steg suggests that Pharoah's phrase "look, ra'ah is opposite you" (10:10) refers not to generic evil, but to the Egyptian sun-god, Ra.
What makes this theory especially interesting is the verse's context. Moshe has just announced the 8th plague: "Behold, tomorrow I will bring locusts in your territory. They will cover ein haaretz, and it will be impossible to see the land..." (10:4-5). Onkelus translates "ein haaretz" as "ein shimsha de'ara" - the "eye" of the sun which shines on the land. Apparently, Moshe is announcing that the locust horde will be so thick it will totally block out the sun.
If so, then Pharoah's mention of the sun-god at this moment is especially apt. "You think your plague can block out the sun? Impossible! Ra will never permit that! Maybe YKVK can take on our lesser gods, but he better not try to mess with our chief god, the sun god!"
Of course, the locust plague takes place as Moshe predicted, and the Torah specifically mentions that the land grew dark during it. Not only that, but the next plague - darkness - seems to be solely directed at the purported sun god. And the final plague occurred at midnight. In fact, the final three plagues all took place in darkness.
This seems like a clear and conclusive lesson to the Egyptians and Israelites that the sun, or a sun god, are not to be relied upon.
UPDATE: Here is more support for my thesis. Or, my post is more support for his thesis. Or something.
Steg suggests that Pharoah's phrase "look, ra'ah is opposite you" (10:10) refers not to generic evil, but to the Egyptian sun-god, Ra.
What makes this theory especially interesting is the verse's context. Moshe has just announced the 8th plague: "Behold, tomorrow I will bring locusts in your territory. They will cover ein haaretz, and it will be impossible to see the land..." (10:4-5). Onkelus translates "ein haaretz" as "ein shimsha de'ara" - the "eye" of the sun which shines on the land. Apparently, Moshe is announcing that the locust horde will be so thick it will totally block out the sun.
If so, then Pharoah's mention of the sun-god at this moment is especially apt. "You think your plague can block out the sun? Impossible! Ra will never permit that! Maybe YKVK can take on our lesser gods, but he better not try to mess with our chief god, the sun god!"
Of course, the locust plague takes place as Moshe predicted, and the Torah specifically mentions that the land grew dark during it. Not only that, but the next plague - darkness - seems to be solely directed at the purported sun god. And the final plague occurred at midnight. In fact, the final three plagues all took place in darkness.
This seems like a clear and conclusive lesson to the Egyptians and Israelites that the sun, or a sun god, are not to be relied upon.
UPDATE: Here is more support for my thesis. Or, my post is more support for his thesis. Or something.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Sylvester
What's going on? My laptop keyboard is broken. All of a sudden, most of the keys stopped working, while a few started "working" when they weren't supposed to. Every time I bump the laptop a bit, for example, it now thinks I pressed F9. Very annoying. Best case, I think I'll need to get the keyboard replaced ($100 repair when I next visit the US); worst case, it could be a sign of impending total system failure.
Anyway, I'm in the university library now. I thought I'd post an interesting cultural artifact. It's a discarded party invitation distributed to students at my college (and presumably elsewhere). The author is Israeli (as can be seen from subtle grammatical flaws such as "in the past few years"), and so is the intended audience. Yet the letter is all in sophisticated English - a foreign language for nearly everyone attending the party. I find it a striking example of the way American culture has become "cool" among young secular Israelis. If only they'd consider actual Americans, like me, to be equally cool...
Anyway, I'm in the university library now. I thought I'd post an interesting cultural artifact. It's a discarded party invitation distributed to students at my college (and presumably elsewhere). The author is Israeli (as can be seen from subtle grammatical flaws such as "in the past few years"), and so is the intended audience. Yet the letter is all in sophisticated English - a foreign language for nearly everyone attending the party. I find it a striking example of the way American culture has become "cool" among young secular Israelis. If only they'd consider actual Americans, like me, to be equally cool...
Friday, January 04, 2008
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