[Yocheved] became pregnant and bore a son. She saw that he was good ("ותרא אותו כי טוב הוא"), and hid him for three months. (2:2)
What does it mean that the baby was "good", and why should this be a condition for its mother being willing to save it?
The best explanation I've seen for this is that "good" means "viable". In ancient times, a large proportion of infants would die early in childhood. If the baby Moshe was likely to die anyway, then it would not be worthwhile for Yocheved to endanger herself in order to protect him. Abandoning your baby to save yourself and your future offspring could not have been easy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
What is the textual basis for this explanation? For this we can look to another, more famous instance of the phrase "ki tov", in the first chapter of Breishit. After finishing the creation of each part of the world, God looks at it and says that it is good - "וירא אלקים כי טוב".
The Ramban suggests that these comments are not simply a passive commentary on creation. Rather, they are part of the act of creation itself. In the Ramban's philosophy, there is no "clockmaker God" who created everything and then let it run on autopilot except for the occasional miraculous intervention. Rather, the world could not exist for more than an instant, if God did not constantly give it the ability to exist for another instant and another instant, and so on forever.
For the Ramban, "ki tov" in Breishit is the crucial textual indication of this philosophy. When God first created the world, it was only guaranteed to exist for a single moment. But then God called the world "good" - meaning long-lasting, that the world was guaranteed to exist continually, for an indefinite time and perhaps forever. And thus the stable natural processes we are familiar with came into being.
If "good" means "long-lasting" regarding creation, then it might mean the same thing regarding babies. When the baby Moshe was created, he might have been sick and lived only briefly, like the universe which originally would have lasted for just one moment. But regarding both Moshe and the universe, we learn that they were "good" and thus destined to live for much longer.
Even if we do not accept all aspects of the Ramban's cosmology, his understanding of the word "good" may nevertheless be correct and provide a clear explanation of why Yocheved acted the way she did.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
More thoughts on Vayechi
Both Yaakov and Yosef, through their burial instructions, wish to encourage their family to await a return to Israel rather than assimilating in Egypt. But they do so in very different ways.
Yaakov makes a point of being buried immediately in Hevron, in the family burial cave, with as much of the family as possible attending the funeral. In contrast Yosef was buried in Egypt, but made his family promise that when they eventually left Egypt they would take his body with them for an Israeli burial.
Aside from the practical issues that might have impelled these two different types of burial, it seems Yaakov and Yosef were using different methods to convey the message of the importance of returning to Israel. Yaakov's impressive funeral leaves an indelible impression of the effort worth going to to return to Israel. In contrast, Yosef's funeral is much less impressive. But his temporary tomb in Egypt is a constant, if subtle, reminder that there is unfinished business and eventually everyone would need to return home.
These two burials represent two different kinds of leadership. One can be a kind of distant lighthouse signalling a clear direction to lost people. Or one can live among those people, sending a less clear message but through one's proximity exerting a more constant influence.
On every issue of public policy we must decide: Which of these ways is preferable?
(the above is from a "post" by Tzviel Gantz and Tomer Mevorach, in last week's Gush Daf Kesher)
And it was after these events, that it was told to Yosef saying "Behold your father is sick", and he took his two sons with him - Menashe and Efraim. (48:1)
Something is missing from this verse. It omits the central event - that Yosef goes to visit his father. Instead it tells us just one detail of that event - that the children came too. Why?
I think the answer is that the Torah does not tell us things that are obvious. Knowing Yosef's character, saying that he is informed of his father's sickness is equivalent to saying that he will then visit his father. So there is no need to mention this separately. Only the detail of bringing the children, which is not obvious, must then be mentioned.
Yosef's behavior, as pointedly not described in this verse, can be a model for our own behavior. Often when confronted with moral challenges we choose correctly, but only after a period of vacillations and doubts. That was not the level of Yosef, nor the level which we should aspire to. When it comes to mitzvot such as visiting the sick, our help should be instinctive and without hesitation. It should literally go without saying that we help out, just like it went without saying that Yosef would help out. If we notice any hesitation and laziness in this regard, it shows that our sense of empathy is incomplete and we must work to strengthen and encourage it.
Yaakov makes a point of being buried immediately in Hevron, in the family burial cave, with as much of the family as possible attending the funeral. In contrast Yosef was buried in Egypt, but made his family promise that when they eventually left Egypt they would take his body with them for an Israeli burial.
Aside from the practical issues that might have impelled these two different types of burial, it seems Yaakov and Yosef were using different methods to convey the message of the importance of returning to Israel. Yaakov's impressive funeral leaves an indelible impression of the effort worth going to to return to Israel. In contrast, Yosef's funeral is much less impressive. But his temporary tomb in Egypt is a constant, if subtle, reminder that there is unfinished business and eventually everyone would need to return home.
These two burials represent two different kinds of leadership. One can be a kind of distant lighthouse signalling a clear direction to lost people. Or one can live among those people, sending a less clear message but through one's proximity exerting a more constant influence.
On every issue of public policy we must decide: Which of these ways is preferable?
(the above is from a "post" by Tzviel Gantz and Tomer Mevorach, in last week's Gush Daf Kesher)
And it was after these events, that it was told to Yosef saying "Behold your father is sick", and he took his two sons with him - Menashe and Efraim. (48:1)
Something is missing from this verse. It omits the central event - that Yosef goes to visit his father. Instead it tells us just one detail of that event - that the children came too. Why?
I think the answer is that the Torah does not tell us things that are obvious. Knowing Yosef's character, saying that he is informed of his father's sickness is equivalent to saying that he will then visit his father. So there is no need to mention this separately. Only the detail of bringing the children, which is not obvious, must then be mentioned.
Yosef's behavior, as pointedly not described in this verse, can be a model for our own behavior. Often when confronted with moral challenges we choose correctly, but only after a period of vacillations and doubts. That was not the level of Yosef, nor the level which we should aspire to. When it comes to mitzvot such as visiting the sick, our help should be instinctive and without hesitation. It should literally go without saying that we help out, just like it went without saying that Yosef would help out. If we notice any hesitation and laziness in this regard, it shows that our sense of empathy is incomplete and we must work to strengthen and encourage it.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Between meat and milk
Mar Ukva said: Regarding [waiting between meat and milk], I am like vinegar derived from wine [i.e. much inferior], compared to my father. My father, when he ate meat, would not eat cheese until the same time the next day. But I do not eat [cheese] in the current meal, but do eat in the next meal. (Chullin 105a)
The halacha has been decided like Mar Ukva, that between meat and milk we wait from "one meal to the next", defined as either 1, 3, 5, or 6 hours. But I think the father's approach of waiting 24 hours is more logical than Mar Ukva's, even if nowadays our practice is otherwise.
The concept of waiting 24 hours is well known in the laws of kashrut. According to the halacha of ben yomo, a utensil which has been used with meat or milk acquires a milk or meat status for a period of 24 hours after use. After that, any food residue on the utensil is considered to have decayed to the point of inedibility and may then be eaten with the opposite "gender" (according to the Torah, but rabbinic law is generally stricter).
This principle might logically seem to apply not only to utensils, but also to one's mouth and stomach which come in contact with meat. Surely once you eat something, a little bit of it remains floating around your stomach or stuck between your teeth. If this kind of residue is enough to prohibit using a utensil with milk for the next 24 hours, why should your digestive system be any different? Based on the principle of "ben yomo", we should wait 24 hours between eating meat and milk (and perhaps between milk and meat, though even Mar Ukva's father might not have done that). In contrast, our custom of waiting 1 to 6 hours has no such theoretical basis and seems to be pretty much arbitrary.
So the thought expressed by the 24-hour opinion is not just "stricter is better", but also "more logical is better". And yet, we ignore both the safety of stringency and the attraction of logic in following our own custom. Sometimes our customs are annoyingly particular, but other times they provide us with great freedom. By following even the customs which take extra effort, we gain the legitimacy to rely on custom for leniencies as well.
The halacha has been decided like Mar Ukva, that between meat and milk we wait from "one meal to the next", defined as either 1, 3, 5, or 6 hours. But I think the father's approach of waiting 24 hours is more logical than Mar Ukva's, even if nowadays our practice is otherwise.
The concept of waiting 24 hours is well known in the laws of kashrut. According to the halacha of ben yomo, a utensil which has been used with meat or milk acquires a milk or meat status for a period of 24 hours after use. After that, any food residue on the utensil is considered to have decayed to the point of inedibility and may then be eaten with the opposite "gender" (according to the Torah, but rabbinic law is generally stricter).
This principle might logically seem to apply not only to utensils, but also to one's mouth and stomach which come in contact with meat. Surely once you eat something, a little bit of it remains floating around your stomach or stuck between your teeth. If this kind of residue is enough to prohibit using a utensil with milk for the next 24 hours, why should your digestive system be any different? Based on the principle of "ben yomo", we should wait 24 hours between eating meat and milk (and perhaps between milk and meat, though even Mar Ukva's father might not have done that). In contrast, our custom of waiting 1 to 6 hours has no such theoretical basis and seems to be pretty much arbitrary.
So the thought expressed by the 24-hour opinion is not just "stricter is better", but also "more logical is better". And yet, we ignore both the safety of stringency and the attraction of logic in following our own custom. Sometimes our customs are annoyingly particular, but other times they provide us with great freedom. By following even the customs which take extra effort, we gain the legitimacy to rely on custom for leniencies as well.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Rav Kook
Having more or less despaired of understanding R' Kook through his writings, which I generally find to be unreadable, I obtained "Essays on the Thought and Philosophy of Rabbi Kook" (edited by Ezra Gellman) from the local university library. It was a hard read as well, but at least it was straightforwardly written and the difficulty was in the conceptual analysis.
Based on my reading, I think the basic philosophical/mystical idea underlying R' Kook's thought is as follows:
(note - where there were gaps in what I learned from the sources, I added a little of my own thought as "glue" which could conceivably be in disagreement with R' Kook.)
============
The activity which best exemplifies God is creation. Similarly, the activity which best exemplifies the "image of God" in a person is creativity. Every moment of human creativity is valuable as an expression of the Divine image.
There are different examples of creativity in the world, some are a part of religious activity and others of secular or anti-religious activity. But since creation by definition stems from Godliness, even instances of apparently anti-religious creativity have some religious value.
Creativity does not take place in isolation: your creativity builds on developments picked up from other people, even people you disagree with. In war and commerce there are winners and losers, but in the world's intellectual development there are no losers, since one person's ideas supplement rather than replace the other's ideas. Thus the world is always progressing, never regressing or standing in place.
More creativity effectively means more revelation of God. Thus, all the instances of creativity in the world add up to a dialectical kind of evolution, with the final destination being the ultimate (complete?) revelation of God in the world.
============
So that is what I discovered. It seems to me to be an innovative, yet logical, development from previous kabbalistic thought. Sort of a generalizion of kabbalah from a set of technical concepts to encompass a broad range of human experience. Extremely brilliant, in my uneducated opinion.
I remain, though, with one question which I had before picking up Gellman's book and which the book did nothing to answer. Essentially:
============
The above approach assigns value to every intellectual possibility. But it is insufficient to decide which possibility is more valuable than the others, in order to decide on a course of action. Indeed, such a decision may be fundamentally problematic for R' Kook because it requires fragmentation in one's view of the universe (examining each action independently without regard for the other) rather than maintaining a unified overall perspective.
If so, then what if any application does R' Kook's thought have to the world? What is the unavoidable practical difference, the "nafka mina", between his approach and that of any other authority? And if there is none, what value does the philosophy have except as an intellectual toy?
============
I do not have an answer to this question. The approach of some of his followers that "conquering land is the only mitzvah nowadays" does not seem to me an authentic representation of R' Kook's views - much less a morally viable approach to life.
My best idea for finding an answer is to examine R' Kook's letters and other practical documents he wrote during his life, looking for examples of where he differs from other rabbis, and more importantly, examples of where his philosophy directly influenced the conclusions.
But that kind of analysis would take a huge amount of work, so don't anticipate seeing it anytime soon on this blog.
Based on my reading, I think the basic philosophical/mystical idea underlying R' Kook's thought is as follows:
(note - where there were gaps in what I learned from the sources, I added a little of my own thought as "glue" which could conceivably be in disagreement with R' Kook.)
============
The activity which best exemplifies God is creation. Similarly, the activity which best exemplifies the "image of God" in a person is creativity. Every moment of human creativity is valuable as an expression of the Divine image.
There are different examples of creativity in the world, some are a part of religious activity and others of secular or anti-religious activity. But since creation by definition stems from Godliness, even instances of apparently anti-religious creativity have some religious value.
Creativity does not take place in isolation: your creativity builds on developments picked up from other people, even people you disagree with. In war and commerce there are winners and losers, but in the world's intellectual development there are no losers, since one person's ideas supplement rather than replace the other's ideas. Thus the world is always progressing, never regressing or standing in place.
More creativity effectively means more revelation of God. Thus, all the instances of creativity in the world add up to a dialectical kind of evolution, with the final destination being the ultimate (complete?) revelation of God in the world.
============
So that is what I discovered. It seems to me to be an innovative, yet logical, development from previous kabbalistic thought. Sort of a generalizion of kabbalah from a set of technical concepts to encompass a broad range of human experience. Extremely brilliant, in my uneducated opinion.
I remain, though, with one question which I had before picking up Gellman's book and which the book did nothing to answer. Essentially:
============
The above approach assigns value to every intellectual possibility. But it is insufficient to decide which possibility is more valuable than the others, in order to decide on a course of action. Indeed, such a decision may be fundamentally problematic for R' Kook because it requires fragmentation in one's view of the universe (examining each action independently without regard for the other) rather than maintaining a unified overall perspective.
If so, then what if any application does R' Kook's thought have to the world? What is the unavoidable practical difference, the "nafka mina", between his approach and that of any other authority? And if there is none, what value does the philosophy have except as an intellectual toy?
============
I do not have an answer to this question. The approach of some of his followers that "conquering land is the only mitzvah nowadays" does not seem to me an authentic representation of R' Kook's views - much less a morally viable approach to life.
My best idea for finding an answer is to examine R' Kook's letters and other practical documents he wrote during his life, looking for examples of where he differs from other rabbis, and more importantly, examples of where his philosophy directly influenced the conclusions.
But that kind of analysis would take a huge amount of work, so don't anticipate seeing it anytime soon on this blog.
A writing tip
1. Take any word.
2. Count the number of letters in it.
3. Subtract three.
4. Call the number you get X.
5. Whenever you write, try very hard to wait X sentences between multiple uses of the word you chose.
Do that for all words. (And don't replace a word once with its synonym to bypass the issue - by doing so you introduce confusion as well as repetition.)
Thus you will eliminate much repetitiveness from your writing, and also get most of the long boring bureaucratic words replaced with short vivid equivalents. In certain technical types of writing, there is no advantage to these changes. But in the "humanities", I think they do an incredible amount to make your writing clear and interesting.
2. Count the number of letters in it.
3. Subtract three.
4. Call the number you get X.
5. Whenever you write, try very hard to wait X sentences between multiple uses of the word you chose.
Do that for all words. (And don't replace a word once with its synonym to bypass the issue - by doing so you introduce confusion as well as repetition.)
Thus you will eliminate much repetitiveness from your writing, and also get most of the long boring bureaucratic words replaced with short vivid equivalents. In certain technical types of writing, there is no advantage to these changes. But in the "humanities", I think they do an incredible amount to make your writing clear and interesting.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Putting the Ash in Ashkenaziss
The cities of Ashkelon and Ashdod, in the news recently due to the rockets falling on them, are close to one another and have similar names. Is this just a coincidence?
There is one other place name, originally from Tanach, which resembles Ashkelon and Ashdod: Ashkenaz. The Biblical Ashkenaz is almost certainly NOT France/Germany, the medieval meaning from which our word "Ashkenazi" comes. In Breishit 10:3 Ashkenaz is mentioned as one of the peoples descended from Noah after the flood, and a close relation of Yavan (Greece). Verse 10:5 might mean that Ashkenaz, like Yavan, lived on "islands". In any case, it seems like the Biblical Ashkenaz was at some place in the eastern Mediterranean region that was mainly accessed from Israel by sea.
In the Bible, Ashkelon and Ashdod were two of the five main Philistine cities. It is known (see Amos 9:7 and archeological sources) that the Philistines descend from the "Sea Peoples" who came by boat across the Mediterranean and conquered part of Canaan about the time the Jews were leaving Egypt. It's entirely possible that Ashkelon and Ashdod were either founded and named, or conquered and renamed, by the Philistines.
If so, the names they gave them are fascinating. For the Philistines came from the Greek islands or nearby - exactly where Ashkenaz is located - and then they started giving cities names like Ashkelon and Ashdod. Ashdod, Ashkelon, Ashkenaz - if one nation uses all of these names, then there is likely a common element between them.
A disproportionate number of Biblical Hebrew place names start with the word "Beit". This is to be expected since "beit" means "house of" or "place of" so it is a very logical first half of a place name. Similarly, many place names names start with "be'er". It seems from the above discussion that many Philistine place names start with "Ash". In the original Philistine language, whatever it was, I suspect that the word "ash" meant either "house", "town", "well", or a similar word. Then "kelon", "kenaz", "dod" would all be suffixes attached to the common prefix, "ash".
I can't help noticing that "dod" in particular resembles "Dodanim", the name of a Greek people mentioned in Breishit 10:4 who might have been another ancestor of the Philistines. Let me then go out on a limb and predict that the name Ashdod, "Ash"-"dod", can be translated to English as "Town of the Dod-ites."
There is one other place name, originally from Tanach, which resembles Ashkelon and Ashdod: Ashkenaz. The Biblical Ashkenaz is almost certainly NOT France/Germany, the medieval meaning from which our word "Ashkenazi" comes. In Breishit 10:3 Ashkenaz is mentioned as one of the peoples descended from Noah after the flood, and a close relation of Yavan (Greece). Verse 10:5 might mean that Ashkenaz, like Yavan, lived on "islands". In any case, it seems like the Biblical Ashkenaz was at some place in the eastern Mediterranean region that was mainly accessed from Israel by sea.
In the Bible, Ashkelon and Ashdod were two of the five main Philistine cities. It is known (see Amos 9:7 and archeological sources) that the Philistines descend from the "Sea Peoples" who came by boat across the Mediterranean and conquered part of Canaan about the time the Jews were leaving Egypt. It's entirely possible that Ashkelon and Ashdod were either founded and named, or conquered and renamed, by the Philistines.
If so, the names they gave them are fascinating. For the Philistines came from the Greek islands or nearby - exactly where Ashkenaz is located - and then they started giving cities names like Ashkelon and Ashdod. Ashdod, Ashkelon, Ashkenaz - if one nation uses all of these names, then there is likely a common element between them.
A disproportionate number of Biblical Hebrew place names start with the word "Beit". This is to be expected since "beit" means "house of" or "place of" so it is a very logical first half of a place name. Similarly, many place names names start with "be'er". It seems from the above discussion that many Philistine place names start with "Ash". In the original Philistine language, whatever it was, I suspect that the word "ash" meant either "house", "town", "well", or a similar word. Then "kelon", "kenaz", "dod" would all be suffixes attached to the common prefix, "ash".
I can't help noticing that "dod" in particular resembles "Dodanim", the name of a Greek people mentioned in Breishit 10:4 who might have been another ancestor of the Philistines. Let me then go out on a limb and predict that the name Ashdod, "Ash"-"dod", can be translated to English as "Town of the Dod-ites."
Ashkenaziss 2
On Wikipedia recently I happened to learn about the High German consonant shift, in which (among other changes) the pronunciation of "t" in most German communities changed to "ss".
This is basically what I suggested as the origin of the Ashkenazi accent, so it's nice to see my prediction verified and my theory thus strengthened.
This is basically what I suggested as the origin of the Ashkenazi accent, so it's nice to see my prediction verified and my theory thus strengthened.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
That cow...
It's pretty insulting nowadays to call a woman a "cow", because that implies that she is fat - and nowadays fatness is quickly approaching promiscuity as the most undesired female trait. Things did not always used to be this way. In the Biblical era it was common for women to be named after large herbivorous animals, and nobody saw anything wrong with it.
Take for example the name Rachel, which means "female sheep". Or Yael, which means "ibex" - a kind of large wild goat. And let us not forget Rivkah, whose name, according to some commentators, means "cow" or "female calf". (See Shmuel 1 28:24, Yirmiyahu 46:21, Amos 6:4, Malachi 3:20 for comparison). My sister might not want to learn that she's named after a bovine, but the original Rivkah would have had no such hesitation.
UPDATE: One more example. The name "Leah" means "cow" in Akkadian.
Looking more closely, we see that these names are not evenly distributed across all Biblical women. Rather, they seem to only appear in families whose profession was herding. Rachel and Rivkah came from the family of Lavan the Aramean, and Yael from the nomadic Kenite tribe. Certainly Lavan, and probably the Kenites too, made a living from herding rather than farming or trading.
From the nature of the herding lifestyle, we can understand why these names became respectable. Herders would watch over and care for their animals - feeding and guiding them and caring for their sicknesses. In turn the animals would provide offspring and create wealth for the herder. This symbiotic relationship reminded ancient people of the relationship between husband and wife. While it's not politically correct to compare the two, wife and flock played similar roles in pastoral society: providing wealth and a future for the herder, who in turn protected them and guided them through the outside world.
The same comparison between wife and flock appears in other contexts. For example, the prophet Natan accuses David Hamelech of adultery through the parable of "kivsat harash", in which a rich man steals the only female sheep of a poor man, which the poor man had raised "in his lap... like a daughter". Here, the love and care the poor man gives to his sheep represent the the love and care which Uriyah felt towards his wife Batsheva, which were violently intruded upon by David's adultery.
The relationship between God and humans is often likened to that of husband and wife, and it's not surprising that it's likened to that between shepherd and flock as well. Thus we find well-known comparisons such as "Hashem is my shepherd, I shall not lack" (Tehilim 23:1) which is sung every week at seudah shlishit.
Take for example the name Rachel, which means "female sheep". Or Yael, which means "ibex" - a kind of large wild goat. And let us not forget Rivkah, whose name, according to some commentators, means "cow" or "female calf". (See Shmuel 1 28:24, Yirmiyahu 46:21, Amos 6:4, Malachi 3:20 for comparison). My sister might not want to learn that she's named after a bovine, but the original Rivkah would have had no such hesitation.
UPDATE: One more example. The name "Leah" means "cow" in Akkadian.
Looking more closely, we see that these names are not evenly distributed across all Biblical women. Rather, they seem to only appear in families whose profession was herding. Rachel and Rivkah came from the family of Lavan the Aramean, and Yael from the nomadic Kenite tribe. Certainly Lavan, and probably the Kenites too, made a living from herding rather than farming or trading.
From the nature of the herding lifestyle, we can understand why these names became respectable. Herders would watch over and care for their animals - feeding and guiding them and caring for their sicknesses. In turn the animals would provide offspring and create wealth for the herder. This symbiotic relationship reminded ancient people of the relationship between husband and wife. While it's not politically correct to compare the two, wife and flock played similar roles in pastoral society: providing wealth and a future for the herder, who in turn protected them and guided them through the outside world.
The same comparison between wife and flock appears in other contexts. For example, the prophet Natan accuses David Hamelech of adultery through the parable of "kivsat harash", in which a rich man steals the only female sheep of a poor man, which the poor man had raised "in his lap... like a daughter". Here, the love and care the poor man gives to his sheep represent the the love and care which Uriyah felt towards his wife Batsheva, which were violently intruded upon by David's adultery.
The relationship between God and humans is often likened to that of husband and wife, and it's not surprising that it's likened to that between shepherd and flock as well. Thus we find well-known comparisons such as "Hashem is my shepherd, I shall not lack" (Tehilim 23:1) which is sung every week at seudah shlishit.
Thoughts on Vayechi
Yosef had near-absolute power as second-in-command to Pharoah. For example, after the famine begins, he purchased all the land and cattle in the country in return for feeding the people, and then turned all the farmers into sharecroppers when they asked for more food the next year. There is no hint that Pharoah initiated these policies. It's not even clear that Pharoah was asked to approve them.
Yet in a few cases, we see Yosef taking a much more submissive attitude. When his family comes to Egypt, he has them ask Pharoah to permit them to stay in the land. And in our parsha, when Yaakov dies, Yosef must beg nicely to Pharoah before being allowed to travel to Hevron for the burial. In fact he does not even dare ask Pharoah directly, but rather asks Pharoah's servants who convey the request to their king. Yosef has so much power in everything else that he does, so why is he so timid in these situations?
I think by looking at how positions like Yosef's came about, we can understand the inherent limitations of the position that forced him to be submissive in the above situations.
The basic issue confronting Pharoah was that running a country is hard work, and it's more fun to have somebody else doing it. The dreams and their interpretation by Yosef were simply a good opportunity to do what he probably wanted to do all along. Pharoah was not the only ancient king to make this calculation: for example, Achashverosh gave Haman and Mordechai positions similar to Yosef's.
At the same time, if these chosen subordinates had enough power to run the state, then they likely had enough power to overthrow and replace the king. Thus, the subordinate's loyalty to the king had to be unquestionable. In practice, this meant that while the subordinates had near-absolute control of policy, they were also absolutely prohibited from doing anything to help themselves personally.
So when Yosef wanted to undertake far-reaching economic reforms, for Pharoah's benefit but whose details Pharaoh did not want to be bothered with, nobody questioned what he did. But when he wanted to settle his family in Egypt, the question of his motivations arose and Pharoah had to review the decision personally. And when he wanted to visit his ancestral country - thus perhaps demonstrating his continued devotion to them rather than Egypt - Yosef's motives were all the more suspect, and he had to approach Pharoah indirectly, and to mention the oath to Yaakov which made the foreign burial morally unavoidable and obligatory.
Yet in a few cases, we see Yosef taking a much more submissive attitude. When his family comes to Egypt, he has them ask Pharoah to permit them to stay in the land. And in our parsha, when Yaakov dies, Yosef must beg nicely to Pharoah before being allowed to travel to Hevron for the burial. In fact he does not even dare ask Pharoah directly, but rather asks Pharoah's servants who convey the request to their king. Yosef has so much power in everything else that he does, so why is he so timid in these situations?
I think by looking at how positions like Yosef's came about, we can understand the inherent limitations of the position that forced him to be submissive in the above situations.
The basic issue confronting Pharoah was that running a country is hard work, and it's more fun to have somebody else doing it. The dreams and their interpretation by Yosef were simply a good opportunity to do what he probably wanted to do all along. Pharoah was not the only ancient king to make this calculation: for example, Achashverosh gave Haman and Mordechai positions similar to Yosef's.
At the same time, if these chosen subordinates had enough power to run the state, then they likely had enough power to overthrow and replace the king. Thus, the subordinate's loyalty to the king had to be unquestionable. In practice, this meant that while the subordinates had near-absolute control of policy, they were also absolutely prohibited from doing anything to help themselves personally.
So when Yosef wanted to undertake far-reaching economic reforms, for Pharoah's benefit but whose details Pharaoh did not want to be bothered with, nobody questioned what he did. But when he wanted to settle his family in Egypt, the question of his motivations arose and Pharoah had to review the decision personally. And when he wanted to visit his ancestral country - thus perhaps demonstrating his continued devotion to them rather than Egypt - Yosef's motives were all the more suspect, and he had to approach Pharoah indirectly, and to mention the oath to Yaakov which made the foreign burial morally unavoidable and obligatory.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Cease-fires
Just one comment on the fighting ongoing in Israel's south.
It's all over the news that France proposed a 48-hour cease-fire, and the Israeli government considered the proposal, but then rejected it.
This seem to me to be a mistake. In fact, it was more than one mistake, since the offer should never have been considered at face value, and then should never have been rejected outright.
In my opinion you should never, ever just say no to a cease-fire. Rather, you always say that you want a cease-fire, under conditions of your own choice.
Hamas understands this principle. Right now they are saying that they want a cease-fire, with the condition that the border is opened. We can't accept this because it will allow them to freely import weapons. But when we reject the proposal, the condition is mostly forgotten, and it comes off like Hamas wants peace and Israel wants to keep killing people.
Instead, we need to offer a cease-fire under the conditions that rocket fire is totally ended (during the previous "cease-fire" it continued at a lower rate), and that certain Hamas leaders responsible for past terrorist attacks are extradited to Israel for trial, and perhaps that Gilad Shalit is returned... and so on, the exact list does not matter.
On the off chance that such conditions are met, then we will have got what we want without fighting. And even if they aren't, just making the offer public will have a dual benefit. One one hand, it makes clear that we want peace and Hamas is rejecting it, not the other way around. And on the other hand, it puts the spotlight on the various ways in which we are are being wronged. Whenever we are asked "Why haven't you agreed to a cease-fire", we can answer with "We offered a cease-fire, but Hamas is still 'firing' by doing X, Y, and Z" - thus shifting the focus to X, Y, and Z and the necessity of ending them.
Perhaps it is Israeli leaders' moral innocence and naivete (relative to their enemies) that prevents them from engaging in the kind of cynical analysis I performed above. Indeed I doubt any Israeli politician has the evil genius of a Nasrallah or Mashaal, who manipulate Israeli parents for years with televised suggestions that their kidnapped sons are alive or dead, healthy or unhealthy, in order to mock and humiliate Israel. It's a credit to our society that it produces leaders who do not know how to manipulate people so cruelly.
But practically speaking, such innocence is not a desirable trait for those in power. Just like soldiers must on occasion overcome their natural instincts and kill people, politicians must be ready to cynically manipulate diplomatic processes to advance their national interests. In war, not to do so means to risk your citizens' lives through your incompetence. We saw the consequences of incompetent leadership two years ago. Right now the military/political situation is very similar, the leaders only slight different, and remains to be seen if they have learned anything.
It's all over the news that France proposed a 48-hour cease-fire, and the Israeli government considered the proposal, but then rejected it.
This seem to me to be a mistake. In fact, it was more than one mistake, since the offer should never have been considered at face value, and then should never have been rejected outright.
In my opinion you should never, ever just say no to a cease-fire. Rather, you always say that you want a cease-fire, under conditions of your own choice.
Hamas understands this principle. Right now they are saying that they want a cease-fire, with the condition that the border is opened. We can't accept this because it will allow them to freely import weapons. But when we reject the proposal, the condition is mostly forgotten, and it comes off like Hamas wants peace and Israel wants to keep killing people.
Instead, we need to offer a cease-fire under the conditions that rocket fire is totally ended (during the previous "cease-fire" it continued at a lower rate), and that certain Hamas leaders responsible for past terrorist attacks are extradited to Israel for trial, and perhaps that Gilad Shalit is returned... and so on, the exact list does not matter.
On the off chance that such conditions are met, then we will have got what we want without fighting. And even if they aren't, just making the offer public will have a dual benefit. One one hand, it makes clear that we want peace and Hamas is rejecting it, not the other way around. And on the other hand, it puts the spotlight on the various ways in which we are are being wronged. Whenever we are asked "Why haven't you agreed to a cease-fire", we can answer with "We offered a cease-fire, but Hamas is still 'firing' by doing X, Y, and Z" - thus shifting the focus to X, Y, and Z and the necessity of ending them.
Perhaps it is Israeli leaders' moral innocence and naivete (relative to their enemies) that prevents them from engaging in the kind of cynical analysis I performed above. Indeed I doubt any Israeli politician has the evil genius of a Nasrallah or Mashaal, who manipulate Israeli parents for years with televised suggestions that their kidnapped sons are alive or dead, healthy or unhealthy, in order to mock and humiliate Israel. It's a credit to our society that it produces leaders who do not know how to manipulate people so cruelly.
But practically speaking, such innocence is not a desirable trait for those in power. Just like soldiers must on occasion overcome their natural instincts and kill people, politicians must be ready to cynically manipulate diplomatic processes to advance their national interests. In war, not to do so means to risk your citizens' lives through your incompetence. We saw the consequences of incompetent leadership two years ago. Right now the military/political situation is very similar, the leaders only slight different, and remains to be seen if they have learned anything.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Thoughts on Vayeshev
What does this week's haftarah have to do with the parsha?
It is accepted to say that the connection is in the haftarah's first line. Here the prophet Amos begins a list of the sins Israel commits, and the first is "selling the righteous for silver". This may not be literally be referring to the selling of Yosef, but it certainly brings that sale to mind.
Less well known is that an equally good connection exists in the next verse. Here Amos lists another sin the people committed: "a man and his father would go to [the same] girl, thereby desecrating My holy name". And indeed, in the middle of parshat Vayeshev we see Yehudah hiring a prostitute who turns out to be his son's widow. Thus he sleeps with the same woman his son did, and of course, the whole episode turns into a big "hilul hashem". Amos is presumably talking about a different form of licentiousness, but still, the similarity with what Yehudah did is striking.
We therefore see that the haftarah contains apparent allusions to both of the stories in our parshah (those of Yosef and Yehudah). No wonder it was chosen for this week in particular.
It is accepted to say that the connection is in the haftarah's first line. Here the prophet Amos begins a list of the sins Israel commits, and the first is "selling the righteous for silver". This may not be literally be referring to the selling of Yosef, but it certainly brings that sale to mind.
Less well known is that an equally good connection exists in the next verse. Here Amos lists another sin the people committed: "a man and his father would go to [the same] girl, thereby desecrating My holy name". And indeed, in the middle of parshat Vayeshev we see Yehudah hiring a prostitute who turns out to be his son's widow. Thus he sleeps with the same woman his son did, and of course, the whole episode turns into a big "hilul hashem". Amos is presumably talking about a different form of licentiousness, but still, the similarity with what Yehudah did is striking.
We therefore see that the haftarah contains apparent allusions to both of the stories in our parshah (those of Yosef and Yehudah). No wonder it was chosen for this week in particular.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Thoughts on Chayei Sarah
Whenever someone dies in Tanach, there is generally one line to explain how they died, at what age, and where they were buried. Sarah's death is unusual in that it is followed by a whole chapter telling every detail of the process by which her burial cave was purchased and her buried in it. Not only is this description very unusual in its length and subject matter, but most of the details in it seem rather superfluous. Why did they need to be mentioned?
Offhand, I can think of four lessons we learn from the long description.
1) This is the first time that Avraham buys land in Israel for his personal use. (He may or may not have bought the land his altars stood on, but even if he did, the land was probably considered like "Temple property" and not available for private use.) This indicates the permanence of his settlement in the land, and the fulfillment of the blessings related to the land. Burial caves were designed for use by many generations, so it indicates that his descendants would be buried (and live and die) in Israel as well.
2) The people of Hevron demonstrated their respect for Avraham: "Bury your dead in the choice of our graves". This respect is a fulfillment of the promises God made to Avraham, beginning with "I will bless you, and magnify your name" (12:2).
3) The people of Hevron called Avraham a "nasi elokim... betochenu" - a religious leader among them. Avraham's efforts in building altars everywhere, praying publicly, behaving morally towards other people, and so on were apparently not in vain. While the people did not reach the religious level of Avraham and his household, they were certainly better off than they were beforehand. They now recognized the good even if they did not live up to it.
4) The people of Hevron wanted Avraham to bury Sarah in their burial caves. But Avraham insisted on purchasing and using a separate cave. He was respectful to them, but kept himself distinct from them. He was not willing to dwell together with Canaanites in life (i.e. Yitzchak's wife) or death (in burial). At the same time, he bowed down to and showed respect for them. Perhaps this is a model for our interactions with people whose way of life we don't agree with, but which we cannot hope to quickly change.
To summarize: we learn that the promises to Avraham were fulfilled, and we gain more examples of Avraham's good behavior to learn from.
Offhand, I can think of four lessons we learn from the long description.
1) This is the first time that Avraham buys land in Israel for his personal use. (He may or may not have bought the land his altars stood on, but even if he did, the land was probably considered like "Temple property" and not available for private use.) This indicates the permanence of his settlement in the land, and the fulfillment of the blessings related to the land. Burial caves were designed for use by many generations, so it indicates that his descendants would be buried (and live and die) in Israel as well.
2) The people of Hevron demonstrated their respect for Avraham: "Bury your dead in the choice of our graves". This respect is a fulfillment of the promises God made to Avraham, beginning with "I will bless you, and magnify your name" (12:2).
3) The people of Hevron called Avraham a "nasi elokim... betochenu" - a religious leader among them. Avraham's efforts in building altars everywhere, praying publicly, behaving morally towards other people, and so on were apparently not in vain. While the people did not reach the religious level of Avraham and his household, they were certainly better off than they were beforehand. They now recognized the good even if they did not live up to it.
4) The people of Hevron wanted Avraham to bury Sarah in their burial caves. But Avraham insisted on purchasing and using a separate cave. He was respectful to them, but kept himself distinct from them. He was not willing to dwell together with Canaanites in life (i.e. Yitzchak's wife) or death (in burial). At the same time, he bowed down to and showed respect for them. Perhaps this is a model for our interactions with people whose way of life we don't agree with, but which we cannot hope to quickly change.
To summarize: we learn that the promises to Avraham were fulfilled, and we gain more examples of Avraham's good behavior to learn from.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Update
I do not yet have internet access in the building I moved into a week ago, thus the recent lack in posting.
Anyway, I heard the following joke recently. It relies on the fact that the Yiddish word "weiss", pronounced "vice", means "white" in English.
"So now that the elections are over, Obama will be the black president, and Biden will be the 'weiss' president."
Badum-ching!
Anyway, I heard the following joke recently. It relies on the fact that the Yiddish word "weiss", pronounced "vice", means "white" in English.
"So now that the elections are over, Obama will be the black president, and Biden will be the 'weiss' president."
Badum-ching!
Hazon Ish - Emuna Ubitachon
"Emuna Ubitachon" (by R' Avraham Yeshayahu Karelitz, the "Hazon Ish") is a short book - just 71 rather small pages long. But it is difficult to read, even for Hebrew speakers, because its style and word choice are very different from what modern readers expect. I soon abandoned my idea of translating the book to English, and instead just summarized it, at a ration of roughly one sentence per page. Hopefully this summary can be useful, either for people who cannot read the book, or for people who are reading it and would like to see a broader overview at the same time.
The summary is divided according to the book's six chapters. Each chapter comprises between 3 and 30 subchapters, as indicated in brackets at the end of each sentence. And while I found many things to respect in the book, I do not agree with everything in it. Some sentences below are written according to the book's perspective even though it is not mine.
It's easier to read if you paste into a word processing file and increase the spacing between paragraphs to 6 points or so.
1) Belief
Belief in God is achieved through the following approaches:
- The wondrous characteristics of our bodies and the world indicate the existence of an intelligent designer. [1:1-7]
- The ecstatic and overpowering feeling one experiences upon realizing that God exists testifies to the truth of that realization. [1:8-9]
- Righteous people who have succeeded in refining their character traits believe that God exists, i.e. belief is a consequence of behavior which is universally regarded as praiseworthy. [1:10-15]
2) Trust
Trust (bitachon) does not mean believing that the future will undoubtedly be good - this cannot be known without prophecy. Rather, it means believing that every occurrence in the world is controlled by God rather than by random fate, and acting accordingly. Faith:thought::bitachon:action. [2:1-2]
An example of someone with "false" bitachon is an apparently religious shopowner who, when a rival store opens, takes hostile means against it with the intention of preserving his livelihood. [2:3-5]
Chazal condemn Yosef (in Egypt) for asking the butler for help. Asking for human help in itself is acceptable, since even though everything comes from God, we are not to rely on miracles. But in this case what Yosef asked for was unlikely to help and was like an act of desperation. As such it contradicted bitachon. [2:6]
A person can also be inspired to trust that God will in fact protect him. This happens in proportion to the person's spiritual level. [2:7]
3) Morality and halacha
Morality is defined by the limits of halacha. One's judgment of right and wrong in any situation should start with the relevant halachot rather than moral intuition, since when you have a personal stake in the matter, your moral intuition is unreliable. [3:1-4]
Obedience to halacha is developed through the following means:
- Discipline and removal of material pursuits from life,
- Study of "mussar", to scare you into doing what's right and into avoiding material comforts,
- General Torah study, to orient you to spiritual matters and increase sensitivity for the particular mitzvot you study and for the overall centrality of mitzvot in life. [3:5-7]
For mitzvot such as theft, piety without exact knowledge of halacha will not prevent sin, and can in fact lead to self-deception about one's intentions. [3:8-13]
All sustenance comes by Divine decree, but we are still required to put forth effort "for" this sustenance. But when halacha prohibits the effort, we revert to the original state of simply waiting for the Divine decree to take effect. [3:14-16]
Torah study is very important; to be at the highest religious level one must have extensive Torah knowledge as well as fear of heaven. At the same time, without fear of heaven one cannot reach true conclusions either. [3:17-29]
Emunat hachamim - one must believe that one's wise teachers rule honestly, because their psychological commitment to truth is stronger than to i.e. money. It is even forbidden to think that hachamim could have been biased but that this is not a discredit because all people have that weakness. The Torah's prohibitions on bribery are weaker than one would expect, because it assumes that hachamim are incorruptible. Rulings of the "gedolim" are purely intellectual, while normal people are driven by lusts. [3:30]
4) Character development
All good and evil character traits are consequences of one question: whether we see moral significance in natural life or not. Most people see this significance only sometimes, and are like wild animals at other times. [4:1-4]
Interpersonal and "bein adam lemakom" mitzvot are not independent - both are consequences of this one single question. [4:5-6]
One who successfully keeps all the myriad details of halacha will by necessity have achieved discipline over his emotions, as well as character traits such as patience and willingness to accept scorn when necessary. [4:7-8]
Keeping halachic details is the only way to "practice" good traits without taking unnecessary risks (i.e. walking near a brothel) [4:9]
One who knows his halachic knowledge is incomplete will become resigned to "unavoidable" laxity and will avoid precision in fulfilling his moral responsibilities. [4:10-11]
Study of "mussar" is only effective for thoughtful and delicate people; those qualities can be acquired through Torah study. [4:12]
Lying is extremely evil and, if habitual, prevents accepting criticism and having character growth. [4:13]
Honor and happiness in life are acceptable, but in truth they both consist solely of Torah wisdom and good character traits - and Torah leads to the character traits. [4:14-15]
A teacher with bad character traits transmits those flaws to his students. One whose teachers have neglected to sufficiently ground him in Torah study will use his intellect to create a new, false version of Judaism. [4:16-17]
These and other people who are religiously driven yet without Torah study will end up constantly violating laws - while still thinking themselves religiously perfect. [4:18-19]
5) Imagination and intellect
Today, people are seduced by modern technology into think that they are superior to any ancient people. [5:1]
But their success is material not spiritual, and anyway it only comes by building on the work of earlier generations, and for that matter ancient Jewish scientific knowledge in many subjects was advanced too. [5:2-5]
6) Prophecy
Humans by their nature cannot (fully) discover what is good and what evil, but they can prepare themselves for a prophetic encounter in which complete good and evil are revealed. [6:1-2]
Thus Adam, Cain, Noah, and Avraham received Divine commandments. In between them, people's moral level descended too low for prophecy to be possible. But since then Avraham's descendants have not stopped receiving and studying the Divine revelation which began with Avraham: the Torah. [6:3]
[This chapter is unfinished.]
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Umatzbia lechol hai ratzon
It's election season in Israel too, and everywhere you see dozens of posters put up by candidates for mayor and the city council. There are candidates proud to represent a particular religious/ethnic constituency, candidates proud to represent a certain political party, candidates proud to non-partisan, candidates running on personal appeal, candidates whose names we don't even know since their party is all that matters, and everything in between.
Most of the posters are boring - some guy's face, name, party, and a superficial platform or cheesy slogan. But some of them go to the opposite extreme. One male candidate's posters show him in a tight T-shirt on a beach. That setting relates to the job he's running for how exactly? But it gets better. One female candidate's poster is a picture of herself with some writing on the side. But it's not a picture of all of her. In fact the picture is only of her legs. The top of the poster is somewhat above her knees, and her feet are near the bottom. So if you want a pair of attractive female legs on the city council, you know who to vote for! Certainly for some people that is a top priority. But I'm surprised that these people are old enough to vote in municipal rather than student government elections.
Most of the posters are boring - some guy's face, name, party, and a superficial platform or cheesy slogan. But some of them go to the opposite extreme. One male candidate's posters show him in a tight T-shirt on a beach. That setting relates to the job he's running for how exactly? But it gets better. One female candidate's poster is a picture of herself with some writing on the side. But it's not a picture of all of her. In fact the picture is only of her legs. The top of the poster is somewhat above her knees, and her feet are near the bottom. So if you want a pair of attractive female legs on the city council, you know who to vote for! Certainly for some people that is a top priority. But I'm surprised that these people are old enough to vote in municipal rather than student government elections.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Early cell phones
According to a textbook I'm reading for work, the first cell phone system was created in 1946 in St. Louis. The receiver was so heavy that you couldn't carry it, so it was only really used while sitting in a car. There was only capacity for 15 users in the entire city, so it was extremely expensive, but there was still plenty of demand.
Despite those limitations, how amazing is it that they had a kind of cell phone in... 1946?
Despite those limitations, how amazing is it that they had a kind of cell phone in... 1946?
Thoughts on Breishit
Last year (Simchat Torah to Simchat Torah), for the first time I read Rashi's commentary on chumash from start to finish. It was maddening at times (Siftei Hachamim only sometimes gave background for Rashi's more "totally out of the blue" comments), but in the end much worth it.
My overall impression: When Rashi does "pshat", as he does for long segments of Shemot and Devarim, he does an incredible job - similar in style and usefulness to his commentary on the gemara. When Rashi quotes "midrash", whether aggadic or halachic, it's often hard to figure out the logic and reasons for the interpretation (because midrash rarely explains itself the way we'd like it to). The first step towards understanding a given Rashi is decide whether it belongs in the "pshat" or "midrash" category. Then you can analyze it with the methods appropriate for that category. If you analyze the midrash as if it were pshat, you'll quickly get confused and/or lose all respect for Rashi. So don't try it.
This year I decided to learn the Ramban instead of Rashi.
One thought after studying a parsha's worth of Ramban: It's interesting how much effort he spends working on a reconciliation between Breishit and science, much as we do nowadays. The only problem is - the science he talks about is medieval, and now outdated. For example, he reads Breishit 1:2 as a description of how the four basic elements (earth, water, air, fire) were formed, immediately after the creation of the world. It's a clever explanation - much cooler than any explanation I'd ever seen for that verse. But since we don't believe in four basic elements any more, we can no longer accept the explanation.
Anyway, now some thoughts on specific verses, formatted in my usual style.
- These are the generations of the heaven and of the earth when they were created, in the day that Hashem God made earth and heaven. No shrub of the field was yet in the earth, and no herb of the field had yet sprung up;
- for Hashem God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground.
- But a mist rose from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground. Then Hashem God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.
- And Hashem God planted a garden eastward, in Eden... (2:4-8)
Let me rephrase these lines in a way which makes their point clear, keeping in mind that "shrub of the field" and "herb of the field" likely refer to plants in cultivated fields, not wild plants.
"- This is the story of the world. At first, no agriculture was taking place.
- This was because: 1) there was no rain, 2) there were no people to do farming.
- God fixed these problems by: 1) making rain, 2) making people.
- The people's first task was to farm the Garden of Eden..."
Of course, the people failed do perform this task correctly. And Adam's punishment is that he continue to farm - but under much harsher conditions. Throughout the chapter, it seems, the central focus is on agriculture.
There are two lines of thought I want to develop starting with this insight.
1. Men and Women: There are significant implications for the chapter's portrayal of the relationship between men and women. (In the following discussion I take the following psychological statement as a premise: Women tend to be better than men at interpersonal relationships, while men tend do be better than women at most functional tasks.)
The relationship between earth and man is parallel to that between man and woman. Earth is incomplete without man (no agriculture), so man must be created from the earth. Man is incomplete without woman (alone), so woman must be created from man. The parallel is strengthened by the fact that as punishment for the sin, man reverts to the control of the earth, while woman reverts to the control of man. One might conclude from all this that women are inherently better than men, just as men are inherently better than earth.
At the same time, there an undeniable aspect of the chapter which seems to privilege men. It is Adam who gives names to the animals, and Adam who God approaches first after the sin.
So which is it, is the chapter biased in favor of women, or in favor of men?
I think the answer is that man and woman are each favored in one sphere of life. When it comes to human relationships, woman is privileged. When it comes to confronting the difficulties of the surrounding world, man is privileged. There is no value judgment, just an acknowledgment of psychological facts that hold true for most of the world's population.
2. Human frailty: Perhaps the centrality of agriculture in this chapter is designed to teach us humility. Not only are humans originally created from the earth, and destined to return to the earth, but they are continually dependent on the earth for sustenance. As the focus of Sefer Breishit shifts* from nature (creation) to human relationships (beginning with Adam and Eve), the character of the relationship between nature and human beings must be made clear.
* The first chapter, dealing with creation, calls God "Elokim". The third and fourth chapters (and most of the rest of the Torah) which deal with human destiny, call God "Hashem". Since this chapter is a transition between the two, both names are used: "Hashem Elokim".
And Hashem God said: "Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, lest he stretch out his hand, and take also from the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever." (3:22)
Here one asks: God is just now realizing the danger of this? Shouldn't God have foreseen that this might be a problem and, say, located the Tree of Life ahead of time in a more secure location? And did God simply get lucky that Adam and Eve never ate from the Tree of Life at some previous time?
I think the answers are no, no, and no, for the following reason.
In my opinion, Adam and Eve were eating from the Tree of Life the entire time they were living in the garden. After all, verse 2:16 says they were allowed to eat from any tree except the Tree of Knowledge. In fact, Adam and Eve's immortality in the garden was a result of continually eating from the Tree of Life! Their punishment for eating from the Tree of Knowledge was to die. And being distanced from the Tree of Life is the very means by which this punishment was carried out.
God could not have "planned ahead" by putting the Tree of Life elsewhere, because then Adam and Eve would have died, rather than living forever (were it not for their sin).
Kayin said to Hashem: "My sin is greater than I can bear. Behold, you have expelled me today from the face of the land; and from Your face I will be hidden; and I will be a fugitive and a wanderer in the earth; and it will happen that whoever finds me will kill me." ...And Hashem set a sign for Kayin, lest anyone finding him should strike him. (4:13-15)
The usual Biblical punishment for murder is death. Yet here, after murdering his brother Hevel, Kayin is punished with exile rather than death. Why doesn't Kayin get the death penalty for his deed? And why does he get the punishment he does get?
I think the answer is that originally, Kayin was given the death penalty. Yet before it could be carried out, he repented from his sin and the punishment was commuted.
Kayin's complaint to God is that wandering the earth alone is dangerous and is likely to get him killed. But he starts off by mentioning not the danger, but his sin. A moment beforehand he had told God, "Am I my brother's keeper?" - implying that yes, his brother was dead, but that he didn't care. Now he tries to repair the damage from that ill-advised comment. The very first thing he says is that, yes, killing Hevel was a sin - a great sin. The first step in repentance is confession and acknowledgment of the sin, and here Kayin takes that step. Only after that does he say that he would like the punishment changed.
It seems that if Kayin had not approached God in this way, then the sentence would not have been commuted. Kayin would have remained without his "sign", and at some point he would have been killed, and the death penalty for murder would have been carried out. This punishment would not be immediate, but Divine punishments often are not immediate.
How then do we explain the lesser punishment which Kayin gets in response to his request?
If we remember from the the recently occurring Yamim Noraim, there are two kinds of repentance: teshuva me-yirah, and teshuva me-ahavah. The gemara (Yoma 86b) explains the differing Divine responses to these kinds of repentance. If you repent out of fear of punishment, then your intentional sins are treated like unintentional sins. But if you repent out of love for God and the Torah and the moral life you're capable of living, then your intentional sins are treated like merits.
Kayin's repentance, coming only after he receives a punishment he cannot deal with, falls squarely into the category of repentance out of fear. It should therefore be sufficient to transform his intentional sin (murder) into an unintentional sin (manslaughter) for purposes of punishment. In fact, the Torah's punishment for manslaughter is exile (to a city of refuge). Kayin's post-repentance punishment is exile as well (though not to a city of refuge; none existed at the time).
It follows that Kayin received the same punishment he would have deserved as an unintentional murderer. And before his repentance, his punishment was that of an intentional murderer. Both punishments are exactly what you would expect, given the nature of his crime, and given the degree of repentance evident from his statement to God.
My overall impression: When Rashi does "pshat", as he does for long segments of Shemot and Devarim, he does an incredible job - similar in style and usefulness to his commentary on the gemara. When Rashi quotes "midrash", whether aggadic or halachic, it's often hard to figure out the logic and reasons for the interpretation (because midrash rarely explains itself the way we'd like it to). The first step towards understanding a given Rashi is decide whether it belongs in the "pshat" or "midrash" category. Then you can analyze it with the methods appropriate for that category. If you analyze the midrash as if it were pshat, you'll quickly get confused and/or lose all respect for Rashi. So don't try it.
This year I decided to learn the Ramban instead of Rashi.
One thought after studying a parsha's worth of Ramban: It's interesting how much effort he spends working on a reconciliation between Breishit and science, much as we do nowadays. The only problem is - the science he talks about is medieval, and now outdated. For example, he reads Breishit 1:2 as a description of how the four basic elements (earth, water, air, fire) were formed, immediately after the creation of the world. It's a clever explanation - much cooler than any explanation I'd ever seen for that verse. But since we don't believe in four basic elements any more, we can no longer accept the explanation.
Anyway, now some thoughts on specific verses, formatted in my usual style.
- These are the generations of the heaven and of the earth when they were created, in the day that Hashem God made earth and heaven. No shrub of the field was yet in the earth, and no herb of the field had yet sprung up;
- for Hashem God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was not a man to till the ground.
- But a mist rose from the earth, and watered the whole face of the ground. Then Hashem God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.
- And Hashem God planted a garden eastward, in Eden... (2:4-8)
Let me rephrase these lines in a way which makes their point clear, keeping in mind that "shrub of the field" and "herb of the field" likely refer to plants in cultivated fields, not wild plants.
"- This is the story of the world. At first, no agriculture was taking place.
- This was because: 1) there was no rain, 2) there were no people to do farming.
- God fixed these problems by: 1) making rain, 2) making people.
- The people's first task was to farm the Garden of Eden..."
Of course, the people failed do perform this task correctly. And Adam's punishment is that he continue to farm - but under much harsher conditions. Throughout the chapter, it seems, the central focus is on agriculture.
There are two lines of thought I want to develop starting with this insight.
1. Men and Women: There are significant implications for the chapter's portrayal of the relationship between men and women. (In the following discussion I take the following psychological statement as a premise: Women tend to be better than men at interpersonal relationships, while men tend do be better than women at most functional tasks.)
The relationship between earth and man is parallel to that between man and woman. Earth is incomplete without man (no agriculture), so man must be created from the earth. Man is incomplete without woman (alone), so woman must be created from man. The parallel is strengthened by the fact that as punishment for the sin, man reverts to the control of the earth, while woman reverts to the control of man. One might conclude from all this that women are inherently better than men, just as men are inherently better than earth.
At the same time, there an undeniable aspect of the chapter which seems to privilege men. It is Adam who gives names to the animals, and Adam who God approaches first after the sin.
So which is it, is the chapter biased in favor of women, or in favor of men?
I think the answer is that man and woman are each favored in one sphere of life. When it comes to human relationships, woman is privileged. When it comes to confronting the difficulties of the surrounding world, man is privileged. There is no value judgment, just an acknowledgment of psychological facts that hold true for most of the world's population.
2. Human frailty: Perhaps the centrality of agriculture in this chapter is designed to teach us humility. Not only are humans originally created from the earth, and destined to return to the earth, but they are continually dependent on the earth for sustenance. As the focus of Sefer Breishit shifts* from nature (creation) to human relationships (beginning with Adam and Eve), the character of the relationship between nature and human beings must be made clear.
* The first chapter, dealing with creation, calls God "Elokim". The third and fourth chapters (and most of the rest of the Torah) which deal with human destiny, call God "Hashem". Since this chapter is a transition between the two, both names are used: "Hashem Elokim".
And Hashem God said: "Behold, the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil; and now, lest he stretch out his hand, and take also from the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever." (3:22)
Here one asks: God is just now realizing the danger of this? Shouldn't God have foreseen that this might be a problem and, say, located the Tree of Life ahead of time in a more secure location? And did God simply get lucky that Adam and Eve never ate from the Tree of Life at some previous time?
I think the answers are no, no, and no, for the following reason.
In my opinion, Adam and Eve were eating from the Tree of Life the entire time they were living in the garden. After all, verse 2:16 says they were allowed to eat from any tree except the Tree of Knowledge. In fact, Adam and Eve's immortality in the garden was a result of continually eating from the Tree of Life! Their punishment for eating from the Tree of Knowledge was to die. And being distanced from the Tree of Life is the very means by which this punishment was carried out.
God could not have "planned ahead" by putting the Tree of Life elsewhere, because then Adam and Eve would have died, rather than living forever (were it not for their sin).
Kayin said to Hashem: "My sin is greater than I can bear. Behold, you have expelled me today from the face of the land; and from Your face I will be hidden; and I will be a fugitive and a wanderer in the earth; and it will happen that whoever finds me will kill me." ...And Hashem set a sign for Kayin, lest anyone finding him should strike him. (4:13-15)
The usual Biblical punishment for murder is death. Yet here, after murdering his brother Hevel, Kayin is punished with exile rather than death. Why doesn't Kayin get the death penalty for his deed? And why does he get the punishment he does get?
I think the answer is that originally, Kayin was given the death penalty. Yet before it could be carried out, he repented from his sin and the punishment was commuted.
Kayin's complaint to God is that wandering the earth alone is dangerous and is likely to get him killed. But he starts off by mentioning not the danger, but his sin. A moment beforehand he had told God, "Am I my brother's keeper?" - implying that yes, his brother was dead, but that he didn't care. Now he tries to repair the damage from that ill-advised comment. The very first thing he says is that, yes, killing Hevel was a sin - a great sin. The first step in repentance is confession and acknowledgment of the sin, and here Kayin takes that step. Only after that does he say that he would like the punishment changed.
It seems that if Kayin had not approached God in this way, then the sentence would not have been commuted. Kayin would have remained without his "sign", and at some point he would have been killed, and the death penalty for murder would have been carried out. This punishment would not be immediate, but Divine punishments often are not immediate.
How then do we explain the lesser punishment which Kayin gets in response to his request?
If we remember from the the recently occurring Yamim Noraim, there are two kinds of repentance: teshuva me-yirah, and teshuva me-ahavah. The gemara (Yoma 86b) explains the differing Divine responses to these kinds of repentance. If you repent out of fear of punishment, then your intentional sins are treated like unintentional sins. But if you repent out of love for God and the Torah and the moral life you're capable of living, then your intentional sins are treated like merits.
Kayin's repentance, coming only after he receives a punishment he cannot deal with, falls squarely into the category of repentance out of fear. It should therefore be sufficient to transform his intentional sin (murder) into an unintentional sin (manslaughter) for purposes of punishment. In fact, the Torah's punishment for manslaughter is exile (to a city of refuge). Kayin's post-repentance punishment is exile as well (though not to a city of refuge; none existed at the time).
It follows that Kayin received the same punishment he would have deserved as an unintentional murderer. And before his repentance, his punishment was that of an intentional murderer. Both punishments are exactly what you would expect, given the nature of his crime, and given the degree of repentance evident from his statement to God.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Klei hamas mecheroteihem
If you need any more proof of the great heroic deeds of the Jews of Hevron, and the sacrifices they continually make for the good of the Jewish people, then look here.
Oh wait. Maybe that link isn't such a good example.
I think expelling a few of these Hevron Jews to Gaza would be a good next move. With their attitudes towards Israel, they should fit in fine there. Perhaps they can even cooperate with Hamas to launch a few well-deserved terrorist attacks on Israel? Launch some rockets at the leftists in Sderot and Ashkelon? Or maybe go to Iran and help out with their nuclear weapons program. Because as we all know, being "killed and slaughtered" is exactly what Israel deserves.
Oh, and "retaliating" against the Israeli army by vandalizing a Palestinian graveyard is probably the most cowardly tactic used since the Palestinians started transporting suicide bombers in ambulances.
Oh wait. Maybe that link isn't such a good example.
I think expelling a few of these Hevron Jews to Gaza would be a good next move. With their attitudes towards Israel, they should fit in fine there. Perhaps they can even cooperate with Hamas to launch a few well-deserved terrorist attacks on Israel? Launch some rockets at the leftists in Sderot and Ashkelon? Or maybe go to Iran and help out with their nuclear weapons program. Because as we all know, being "killed and slaughtered" is exactly what Israel deserves.
Oh, and "retaliating" against the Israeli army by vandalizing a Palestinian graveyard is probably the most cowardly tactic used since the Palestinians started transporting suicide bombers in ambulances.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Mishpacha
While visiting my (Chabad) cousins for the first day of Sukkot I had the opportunity to read that week's issue of Mishpacha magazine - whose audience is the English-speaking charedi community.
To my amazement, one of the articles quoted a rabbi from "Yeshivas Har Etzion".
In this non-messianic Chabad home, I discovered that perhaps the mashiach is coming after all.
To my amazement, one of the articles quoted a rabbi from "Yeshivas Har Etzion".
In this non-messianic Chabad home, I discovered that perhaps the mashiach is coming after all.
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