[A video sent my way, worth thinking about: Tribute to the Jewish Mother]
As I train my son in use of tefillin, I'm trying to develop a list of "maintenance" points. Here's what I have so far:
Before putting on tefillin
Is my hair clean and dry?
Are my arm and forehead clean and dry?
Do I need to use the bathroom?
Am I able to concentrate?
Putting on tefillin
Focus on the message this uniform sends you
Check the straps at the points where they enter the knots, to make sure they aren't wearing thin or losing their blackness
Be gentle when pulling the straps of the arm tefillin, to avoid snapping the knot's connection to the box
If the head tefillin are not sitting in the right spot, I can loosen the knot to adjust the straps
If the box on your head is exerting too much pressure, move it further up; there is a great deal of room to use, and this will also avoid stretching the straps
While wearing tefillin
Always remember that you are wearing tefillin – this will help you guard their holiness and take care of them physically
When about to say Shemoneh Esreih, make sure you have room to bow without striking anything
Putting tefillin away
Check tefillin straps and boxes for blackness; it's easier to blacken them when you don't need to put them on right away
Put tefillin in their boxes carefully
Kiss the tefillin before putting them away; remember that this is a special opportunity
Storing tefillin
We honour tefillin in the way we take care of them, from the way we carry their bag to the kind of place we put them
Never leave tefillin in a car, whether the weather is hot or cold, damp or dry
Never pack tefillin in your luggage
What would you add?
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Why parenting scares me
For me, the scariest part of parenting is not knowing where my actions or words will lead.
Parents talk to children, reward or punish them, assign them tasks and mark their progress, all with the best intentions and perhaps even with some knowledge, but who know where it's going to go? Who can predict the impact?
Who can predict whether going easy on a child who lied will encourage further lying, or whether punishing harshly will lead to rebellion?
Who can predict whether presenting cash incentives for academic success will spur interest, or deflate interest where there is no reward, or lead to an academic focus that blocks out other types of growth?
Who can predict whether pushing a child athletically will help her to grow, or will have disastrous results?
In searching for something else on-line, I came across this video, "Transformational Leadership Example". It features a coach getting his star player to perform an incredible feat of strength – the Death Crawl – in front of the team, goading him on and pushing him even when he is clearly exhausted.
That was fiction, but it reminded me of a real story, memorialized in the film Miracle. Take a look at this:
And as I watch those videos, I think of this piece from the news a few months ago:
At a doublewide trailer along a dirt road in rural Alabama, authorities say 9-year-old Savannah Hardin was forced to run for three hours as punishment for having lied to her grandmother about eating candy bars. The severely dehydrated girl had a seizure and her death days later was ruled a homicide.
Frankly, reading more about the Alabama case makes it seem that there was greater dysfunction here – but that's not the point. How do we draw the line between pushing our children to be successful and endangering their lives?
Intellectually, I'd say to draw it far short of danger in order to avoid any risk – but while that's easy in the realm of the physical, it's a lot harder in other realms of instruction and growth.
Of course, the risk is present in all of our interactions; Rabbis, certainly, are capable of inflicting great harm without even knowing it, in a derashah, in a class, in private rebuke. I can remember several times over the years when I said the wrong thing and caused serious harm, and after-the-fact apologies could do little to repair it.
Still, for me it's hardest and scariest as a parent dealing with vulnerable children. How do you ever know the results of acting? And yet, how can you refrain from acting?
Parents talk to children, reward or punish them, assign them tasks and mark their progress, all with the best intentions and perhaps even with some knowledge, but who know where it's going to go? Who can predict the impact?
Who can predict whether going easy on a child who lied will encourage further lying, or whether punishing harshly will lead to rebellion?
Who can predict whether presenting cash incentives for academic success will spur interest, or deflate interest where there is no reward, or lead to an academic focus that blocks out other types of growth?
Who can predict whether pushing a child athletically will help her to grow, or will have disastrous results?
In searching for something else on-line, I came across this video, "Transformational Leadership Example". It features a coach getting his star player to perform an incredible feat of strength – the Death Crawl – in front of the team, goading him on and pushing him even when he is clearly exhausted.
That was fiction, but it reminded me of a real story, memorialized in the film Miracle. Take a look at this:
And as I watch those videos, I think of this piece from the news a few months ago:
At a doublewide trailer along a dirt road in rural Alabama, authorities say 9-year-old Savannah Hardin was forced to run for three hours as punishment for having lied to her grandmother about eating candy bars. The severely dehydrated girl had a seizure and her death days later was ruled a homicide.
Frankly, reading more about the Alabama case makes it seem that there was greater dysfunction here – but that's not the point. How do we draw the line between pushing our children to be successful and endangering their lives?
Intellectually, I'd say to draw it far short of danger in order to avoid any risk – but while that's easy in the realm of the physical, it's a lot harder in other realms of instruction and growth.
Of course, the risk is present in all of our interactions; Rabbis, certainly, are capable of inflicting great harm without even knowing it, in a derashah, in a class, in private rebuke. I can remember several times over the years when I said the wrong thing and caused serious harm, and after-the-fact apologies could do little to repair it.
Still, for me it's hardest and scariest as a parent dealing with vulnerable children. How do you ever know the results of acting? And yet, how can you refrain from acting?
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Had I gone out to a Kiddush Club
Had I gone out to a Kiddush Club during the haftorah this morning, I would have missed a few things.
I would have missed seeing a Bar Mitzvah boy read the haftorah - perfectly - from a klaf (parchment, without the vowels).
I would have missed seeing the same Bar Mitzvah boy creatively duck under the shulchan (table on which the Torah is read) to escape a hail of candy after finishing the haftorah.
I would have missed saying Yekum Purkan with my youngest, who is racing through the words a little too quickly but is adorable doing so.
I would have missed the chance to say the Av haRachamim paragraph at the time it is most meaningful. The paragraph was written in grief for the Jews massacred during the Crusades during these months of Iyyar and Sivan; just a few days ago was the anniversary of the mob attack on the Jews of Speyer in 1096, for example. We say it every Shabbos, but this time of year is when it means the most.
I would have missed kissing the Torah on its way back to the Aron Kodesh.
We've spoken about Kiddush Clubs before; I'm not interested in re-opening the debate. I'm just saying.
What did you gain by going to a Kiddush Club this Shabbos?
What did you gain by not going?
I would have missed seeing a Bar Mitzvah boy read the haftorah - perfectly - from a klaf (parchment, without the vowels).
I would have missed seeing the same Bar Mitzvah boy creatively duck under the shulchan (table on which the Torah is read) to escape a hail of candy after finishing the haftorah.
I would have missed saying Yekum Purkan with my youngest, who is racing through the words a little too quickly but is adorable doing so.
I would have missed the chance to say the Av haRachamim paragraph at the time it is most meaningful. The paragraph was written in grief for the Jews massacred during the Crusades during these months of Iyyar and Sivan; just a few days ago was the anniversary of the mob attack on the Jews of Speyer in 1096, for example. We say it every Shabbos, but this time of year is when it means the most.
I would have missed kissing the Torah on its way back to the Aron Kodesh.
We've spoken about Kiddush Clubs before; I'm not interested in re-opening the debate. I'm just saying.
What did you gain by going to a Kiddush Club this Shabbos?
What did you gain by not going?
Thursday, May 3, 2012
And now, Junior Seau
Junior Seau was a star linebacker in the National Football League, and he died on Wednesday of a gunshot wound. Police are investigating the death as a suspected suicide.
Should this turn out to be a suicide, it would be yet another case of a former football player dying by his own hand; there have been several deaths of professional football and hockey players by their own hands in the past two years. Ray Easterling, Dave Duerson, Wade Belak, Derek Boogaard... In case after case, depression and/or dementia has been cited, and fingers are pointing to the after-effects of concussions. With players larger and stronger than ever before, the potential for serious harm grows - and people continue to say, "This is how the game is meant to be played."
What level of risk is acceptable in sport, from the perspective of Jewish law? Rav Moshe Feinstein was asked this question regarding professional athletics, and he wrote (Igrot Moshe Choshen Mishpat 1:104) that one may engage in sport for his livelihood even with a low level of risk, even a risk of danger to "one in thousands", but he did not elaborate further.
I grew up following the NFL and NHL and enjoying both immensely - as I write this, I'm listening to the start of the 3rd overtime in the Rangers-Capitals playoff game - but one wonders whether professional-level football or hockey have reached a stage at which Rav Moshe would have prohibited participation.
Should this turn out to be a suicide, it would be yet another case of a former football player dying by his own hand; there have been several deaths of professional football and hockey players by their own hands in the past two years. Ray Easterling, Dave Duerson, Wade Belak, Derek Boogaard... In case after case, depression and/or dementia has been cited, and fingers are pointing to the after-effects of concussions. With players larger and stronger than ever before, the potential for serious harm grows - and people continue to say, "This is how the game is meant to be played."
What level of risk is acceptable in sport, from the perspective of Jewish law? Rav Moshe Feinstein was asked this question regarding professional athletics, and he wrote (Igrot Moshe Choshen Mishpat 1:104) that one may engage in sport for his livelihood even with a low level of risk, even a risk of danger to "one in thousands", but he did not elaborate further.
I grew up following the NFL and NHL and enjoying both immensely - as I write this, I'm listening to the start of the 3rd overtime in the Rangers-Capitals playoff game - but one wonders whether professional-level football or hockey have reached a stage at which Rav Moshe would have prohibited participation.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Anger Management
I send out daily Omer emails, and the other day I received some constructive criticism for a segment in my email for the 23rd day of the Omer:
The combined Sephirah for Day 23 of the Omer is therefore Gevurah sheb'Netzach, "restrained triumph", suggesting a powerful persistence which is employed with judicious restraint.
The comic books of my youth featured a villain named "The Juggernaut", who was an unstoppable force once he launched himself in a given direction. When we are young and less mature, there is a certain appeal to this apparent strength; we like the idea that when we set our minds to something, nothing will sway or distract us. This is actually a weakness, though; being uncritically hard-driving is likely to lead to mistakes. Keeping our strength in reserve for when it is warranted is a more mature, and more successful, path.
My correspondent suggested that use of comic books degraded the value of my message.
I'm not so sure. I agree that we should be careful that our medium not cheapen Torah's message, but I do think that popular culture can provide instructive examples, as well as a way for people to relate to Torah.
Case in point: The NBA playoffs, just a couple of games old, have already provided two such examples, for anyone wanting to teach a teenager about anger management.
First, Celtics star Rajon Rondo bumps a referee while protesting a foul call, getting ejected from the game, killing his team's rally (they lost the game), and getting suspended from the next game.
As ESPN.com reported:
The Celtics were seconds away from possibly salvaging an atrocious Game 1 playoff performance against Atlanta that highlighted so many of their usual deficiencies -- rebounding, lack of depth, poor transition defense, stagnant offensive sets, reverting to "hero" ball to force points onto the board -- when Rajon Rondo decided to really ratchet up his team's degree of difficulty. Boston's Young Turk got himself ejected from the game with 41 seconds to go and -- as a result of the one-game suspension levied against him on Monday for bumping referee Marc Davis -- has left his team woefully shorthanded for Game 2 on Tuesday in Atlanta. I really can't decide which was more disappointing: Rondo becoming unglued over a questionable call on a messy scrum for a loose ball, or his insistence after the fact he didn't bump Davis on purpose. Right. And Metta World Peace didn't see James Harden standing there when he leveled him with his elbow. Look, maybe Davis should have whistled for a jump ball before he called Brandon Bass for a foul. And yes, maybe Davis was a tad quick in slapping a T on Rondo after he approached him with a few choice words. Too bad. Maintain your composure. That's what great players -- and great teams -- do.
Then, last night, one of the Knicks' stars, Amare Stoudemire, followed up the team's loss by punching a glass fire extinguisher case, tearing up his hand:
Amare Stoudemire reduced himself to another A.J. Burnett, another Kevin Brown, another raging, self-absorbed New Yorker who put his own frustrations over his team's pressing needs. He cut up his left hand punching a fire extinguisher case after Monday's Game 2 loss to the Miami Heat, by far his most aggressive move of the night. After scoring the softest, least impactful 18 points a man can score in a playoff game, Stoudemire left AmericanAirlines Arena in silence with his hand heavily taped and his arm in a sling, and with security guards shouting for everyone to get back.
What, were the Knicks looking for an excuse for losing the series? As 680's Peter Gross reported this morning, Stoudemire's status for the upcoming games is unknown, but the fire extinguisher is day to day.
The combined Sephirah for Day 23 of the Omer is therefore Gevurah sheb'Netzach, "restrained triumph", suggesting a powerful persistence which is employed with judicious restraint.
The comic books of my youth featured a villain named "The Juggernaut", who was an unstoppable force once he launched himself in a given direction. When we are young and less mature, there is a certain appeal to this apparent strength; we like the idea that when we set our minds to something, nothing will sway or distract us. This is actually a weakness, though; being uncritically hard-driving is likely to lead to mistakes. Keeping our strength in reserve for when it is warranted is a more mature, and more successful, path.
My correspondent suggested that use of comic books degraded the value of my message.
I'm not so sure. I agree that we should be careful that our medium not cheapen Torah's message, but I do think that popular culture can provide instructive examples, as well as a way for people to relate to Torah.
Case in point: The NBA playoffs, just a couple of games old, have already provided two such examples, for anyone wanting to teach a teenager about anger management.
First, Celtics star Rajon Rondo bumps a referee while protesting a foul call, getting ejected from the game, killing his team's rally (they lost the game), and getting suspended from the next game.
As ESPN.com reported:
The Celtics were seconds away from possibly salvaging an atrocious Game 1 playoff performance against Atlanta that highlighted so many of their usual deficiencies -- rebounding, lack of depth, poor transition defense, stagnant offensive sets, reverting to "hero" ball to force points onto the board -- when Rajon Rondo decided to really ratchet up his team's degree of difficulty. Boston's Young Turk got himself ejected from the game with 41 seconds to go and -- as a result of the one-game suspension levied against him on Monday for bumping referee Marc Davis -- has left his team woefully shorthanded for Game 2 on Tuesday in Atlanta. I really can't decide which was more disappointing: Rondo becoming unglued over a questionable call on a messy scrum for a loose ball, or his insistence after the fact he didn't bump Davis on purpose. Right. And Metta World Peace didn't see James Harden standing there when he leveled him with his elbow. Look, maybe Davis should have whistled for a jump ball before he called Brandon Bass for a foul. And yes, maybe Davis was a tad quick in slapping a T on Rondo after he approached him with a few choice words. Too bad. Maintain your composure. That's what great players -- and great teams -- do.
Then, last night, one of the Knicks' stars, Amare Stoudemire, followed up the team's loss by punching a glass fire extinguisher case, tearing up his hand:
Amare Stoudemire reduced himself to another A.J. Burnett, another Kevin Brown, another raging, self-absorbed New Yorker who put his own frustrations over his team's pressing needs. He cut up his left hand punching a fire extinguisher case after Monday's Game 2 loss to the Miami Heat, by far his most aggressive move of the night. After scoring the softest, least impactful 18 points a man can score in a playoff game, Stoudemire left AmericanAirlines Arena in silence with his hand heavily taped and his arm in a sling, and with security guards shouting for everyone to get back.
What, were the Knicks looking for an excuse for losing the series? As 680's Peter Gross reported this morning, Stoudemire's status for the upcoming games is unknown, but the fire extinguisher is day to day.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Misunderstanding the Gedolim
In a comment on my post here, R' Micha expressed surprise at the longevity of the ideologies of Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook and Rav Zvi Yehuda Kook, given events which occurred after their respective times, which pose challenges to their visions.
I am not expert enough to explain how the ideologies of Rav Kook the elder and the younger would address these realities, although my limited knowledge does suggest that it can be done. To me, the greater point is this: Many people who claim to be "Rav Kookniks" - and I speak of those outside of Israel, for I know less about those in Israel - do not actually have expertise in the thought of Rav Kook. Rather, they are impressed that someone who was as brilliant and Torah-observant as Rav Kook was a supporter of Zionism, worked with the secular chalutzim, and that's good enough for them. Certainly, they won't question Rav Kook's ideology based on new developments; they don't have enough familiarity with that ideology was in the first place.
The same is true within the YU community and its embrace of Rav Soloveichik; many claim to be followers of the Rav, without having heard his shiurim or read his writing.
And, presumably, the same occurs in other sectors of the Jewish world – perhaps with those who claim to follow the Lubavitcher Rebbe, or to be Breslovers, or to follow in the footsteps of Rav Hutner or Rav Moshe. Gedolim are adopted as role models for what they did, not for what they said. [And my use of the loaded term "Gedolim" here is meant to be translated as "role models".]
At first, one might consider this approach benign. A medical student may emulate a physician who is kind and dedicated and conscientious without knowing what motivates that role model. An athlete may imitate some star who has a particular training regimen without knowing the ideas behind it.
But there are risks involved: Consider the medical student who thinks he is emulating the physician, but only because he didn't understand what he was seeing, or where it applied. Consider the athlete who imitates a star without realizing that the star's approach is fine for someone at a later stage in his career, but won't help at his stage. Consider the fan of Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch who knows Rav Hirsch talked about the beauty of the Alps, but who doesn't know when Rav Hirsch recommended they be visited and when he recommended one sit in the classroom.
I don't think there is anything malicious in this path of adopting role models without learning more about their ideas. But I do suspect it's dangerous.
I am not expert enough to explain how the ideologies of Rav Kook the elder and the younger would address these realities, although my limited knowledge does suggest that it can be done. To me, the greater point is this: Many people who claim to be "Rav Kookniks" - and I speak of those outside of Israel, for I know less about those in Israel - do not actually have expertise in the thought of Rav Kook. Rather, they are impressed that someone who was as brilliant and Torah-observant as Rav Kook was a supporter of Zionism, worked with the secular chalutzim, and that's good enough for them. Certainly, they won't question Rav Kook's ideology based on new developments; they don't have enough familiarity with that ideology was in the first place.
The same is true within the YU community and its embrace of Rav Soloveichik; many claim to be followers of the Rav, without having heard his shiurim or read his writing.
And, presumably, the same occurs in other sectors of the Jewish world – perhaps with those who claim to follow the Lubavitcher Rebbe, or to be Breslovers, or to follow in the footsteps of Rav Hutner or Rav Moshe. Gedolim are adopted as role models for what they did, not for what they said. [And my use of the loaded term "Gedolim" here is meant to be translated as "role models".]
At first, one might consider this approach benign. A medical student may emulate a physician who is kind and dedicated and conscientious without knowing what motivates that role model. An athlete may imitate some star who has a particular training regimen without knowing the ideas behind it.
But there are risks involved: Consider the medical student who thinks he is emulating the physician, but only because he didn't understand what he was seeing, or where it applied. Consider the athlete who imitates a star without realizing that the star's approach is fine for someone at a later stage in his career, but won't help at his stage. Consider the fan of Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch who knows Rav Hirsch talked about the beauty of the Alps, but who doesn't know when Rav Hirsch recommended they be visited and when he recommended one sit in the classroom.
I don't think there is anything malicious in this path of adopting role models without learning more about their ideas. But I do suspect it's dangerous.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Raising happy children
Two quick items for tonight:
Modern Uberdox discusses an important issue here, and
At a Yom haZikaron program a few days ago I heard Mrs. Yehudit Dasberg deliver an important message for parents. Talking about raising her grandchildren after her daughter and son-in-law were killed by terrorists, she said, "You can't raise happy children with a sad face." Amen.
I have many more post-able thoughts running around my head these days; hopefully, I'll get some time on Sunday to put something together.
Modern Uberdox discusses an important issue here, and
At a Yom haZikaron program a few days ago I heard Mrs. Yehudit Dasberg deliver an important message for parents. Talking about raising her grandchildren after her daughter and son-in-law were killed by terrorists, she said, "You can't raise happy children with a sad face." Amen.
I have many more post-able thoughts running around my head these days; hopefully, I'll get some time on Sunday to put something together.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
The greatness of Rav Tzvi Yehudah Kook
[Originally posted in 2009 here. I repost it now because the original received too few comments, and because I love it]
Yeshivat Hesder Ramat Gan published “Go’el Yisrael גואל ישראל,” several years ago. The book collects considerable quality material on Yom ha’Atzmaut and Yom Yerushalayim, from Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook, his son Rav Tzvi Yehudah Kook, their students, and other giants of Religious Zionism. It also offers a complete order of prayer for Yom haAtzmaut and Yom Yerushalayim.
On page 300-301, Rav Tzvi Yehuda Kook is quoted regarding the Chief Rabbinate’s recommendation of saying Hallel without a berachah on Yom ha’Atzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day:
On the Erev Shabbat preceding Yom ha’Atzmaut, a certain important man came to me and asked why our rabbis do not permit us to recite a berachah upon Hallel for Yom ha’Atzmaut. I replied to him that the ruling of the Chief Rabbinate is balanced and correct.
The enactments of the Chief Rabbinate apply to the entire community. Since, to our pain and shame, a great portion of our community does not believe in the great act of Gd which is revealed to us in the establishment of the government of Israel, and since, due to its lack of faith, it lacks joy, it is not possible to obligate them to recite Hallel with a berachah. It is like someone who sees a friend and is glad to see him, who is obligated to recite a berachah; if he is joyous, he recites a beracah. If he is not joyous, he does not recite a berachah.
Rav Maimon, whose entire being was dedicated to building Gd’s nation and portion, was filled with the joy of faith, and so he established in his synagogue to recite Hallel with a berachah. The same is true in other, similar places – the IDF and religious kibbutzim. However, the Chief, all-inclusive Rabbinate cannot enact a berachah as an all-inclusive ruling for the entire community, when the community is not ready for it.
In our central Yeshiva we had followed the ruling of the Rabbinate, for we are not a kloiz of a specific sect. We are associated with the general Jewish population centered in Yerushalayim, and since that population includes, for now, to our pain and our embarrassment, obstacles to complete faith and joy, and therefore to the obligation to recite a berachah, it is appropriate that we also act according to the ruling of the Rabbinate for the general population.
I find this explanation fascinating for many reasons, including the following:
• I’m not sure which group he means, when he speaks of those who don’t believe in the great act of Gd – does he mean those who do not believe in Divine intervention? Or those who do not believe that the State is an act of Gd?
• I wonder how many people who do not believe in Divine intervention, or who do not believe that the State is an act of Gd, daven in Mercaz haRav – and on Yom ha’Atzmaut in particular?
• I believe that his insistence on keeping the yeshiva – the bastion of his father’s Torah! – as an institution open to all, and serving all, and avoiding divisive practices even on matters we hold most dear, should be a model for all of us. This is true leadership.
Yeshivat Hesder Ramat Gan published “Go’el Yisrael גואל ישראל,” several years ago. The book collects considerable quality material on Yom ha’Atzmaut and Yom Yerushalayim, from Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook, his son Rav Tzvi Yehudah Kook, their students, and other giants of Religious Zionism. It also offers a complete order of prayer for Yom haAtzmaut and Yom Yerushalayim.
On page 300-301, Rav Tzvi Yehuda Kook is quoted regarding the Chief Rabbinate’s recommendation of saying Hallel without a berachah on Yom ha’Atzmaut, Israel’s Independence Day:
On the Erev Shabbat preceding Yom ha’Atzmaut, a certain important man came to me and asked why our rabbis do not permit us to recite a berachah upon Hallel for Yom ha’Atzmaut. I replied to him that the ruling of the Chief Rabbinate is balanced and correct.
The enactments of the Chief Rabbinate apply to the entire community. Since, to our pain and shame, a great portion of our community does not believe in the great act of Gd which is revealed to us in the establishment of the government of Israel, and since, due to its lack of faith, it lacks joy, it is not possible to obligate them to recite Hallel with a berachah. It is like someone who sees a friend and is glad to see him, who is obligated to recite a berachah; if he is joyous, he recites a beracah. If he is not joyous, he does not recite a berachah.
Rav Maimon, whose entire being was dedicated to building Gd’s nation and portion, was filled with the joy of faith, and so he established in his synagogue to recite Hallel with a berachah. The same is true in other, similar places – the IDF and religious kibbutzim. However, the Chief, all-inclusive Rabbinate cannot enact a berachah as an all-inclusive ruling for the entire community, when the community is not ready for it.
In our central Yeshiva we had followed the ruling of the Rabbinate, for we are not a kloiz of a specific sect. We are associated with the general Jewish population centered in Yerushalayim, and since that population includes, for now, to our pain and our embarrassment, obstacles to complete faith and joy, and therefore to the obligation to recite a berachah, it is appropriate that we also act according to the ruling of the Rabbinate for the general population.
I find this explanation fascinating for many reasons, including the following:
• I’m not sure which group he means, when he speaks of those who don’t believe in the great act of Gd – does he mean those who do not believe in Divine intervention? Or those who do not believe that the State is an act of Gd?
• I wonder how many people who do not believe in Divine intervention, or who do not believe that the State is an act of Gd, daven in Mercaz haRav – and on Yom ha’Atzmaut in particular?
• I believe that his insistence on keeping the yeshiva – the bastion of his father’s Torah! – as an institution open to all, and serving all, and avoiding divisive practices even on matters we hold most dear, should be a model for all of us. This is true leadership.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Movies for teens?
By the time I turned fourteen, I had seen all three Star Wars movies, Back to the Future, Short Circuit, Grease, Superman, Superman II, WarGames, Romancing the Stone, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, Flash Gordon, and probably a few more movies the names of which escape me at the moment. My family didn't go to movies much, that I can recall, but I saw them in trips with my summer camp, or at birthday parties.
I won't deny that listing those titles brings twinges of nostalgia, but I can't see showing those to my kids.
First, there is the halachic issue of looking at certain things. The Torah warns us not to stray after our eyes, and that includes having a male see a female in states of undress. Even back in the sheltered 1980's, what passed for a PG in the theater would not Please Gd in halachah. This one is pretty straightforward.
More, though – Even if you could skip any given scene, a teenage boy is going to face enough of a challenge dealing with his sexuality within the bounds of halachah; do we need to feed it by promoting a world in which it's all around him, a world of strapless dresses and bathing suits, a world of jokes about appearances and sexuality, a world in which the music swells as the characters kiss?
Nope; I don't see it.
Do you?
I won't deny that listing those titles brings twinges of nostalgia, but I can't see showing those to my kids.
First, there is the halachic issue of looking at certain things. The Torah warns us not to stray after our eyes, and that includes having a male see a female in states of undress. Even back in the sheltered 1980's, what passed for a PG in the theater would not Please Gd in halachah. This one is pretty straightforward.
More, though – Even if you could skip any given scene, a teenage boy is going to face enough of a challenge dealing with his sexuality within the bounds of halachah; do we need to feed it by promoting a world in which it's all around him, a world of strapless dresses and bathing suits, a world of jokes about appearances and sexuality, a world in which the music swells as the characters kiss?
Nope; I don't see it.
Do you?
Sunday, April 22, 2012
A lesson in dealing with cynics
Apropos of our discussion here about cynicism and lack of trust in rabbis, and the difference between past and present, here's something I came across in Yerushalmi (Berachos 2:) on Friday-
This was a jibe with bite; King David longed to build the Beit haMikdash, and was told that he could not.[See Shemuel II 7, Melachim I 5, Divrei haYamim I 7 and 22 for more.]
But I like King David's response:
People mocked King David for various things - his lineage, his relationship with Batsheva, and, apparently, the Divine decree that he not construct the Beit haMikdash. But he took it in stride. A good lesson, I think, for today's leadership.
אין דור שאין בו ליצני' מה היו פריצי הדור עושין היו הולכי' אצל חלונותיו של דוד ואו' לו דוד אימת יבנה בית המקדש אימתי בית ה' נלך
There is no generation without scorners. What would the lawless of [King David's] generation do? They would go to David's windows and say, "David, when will the Beit haMikdash be built? When will we go to the house of Gd?"This was a jibe with bite; King David longed to build the Beit haMikdash, and was told that he could not.[See Shemuel II 7, Melachim I 5, Divrei haYamim I 7 and 22 for more.]
But I like King David's response:
הו' או' אע"פ שמתכונין להכעיסני יבא עלי שאני שמח בלבי שמחתי באו' לי בית ה' נלך
He would respond, "Even though they intend to anger me, may I be rewarded for I am happy in my heart." [As Tehillim 122:1 says,] 'I am glad when they say to me, 'Let us go to the house of Gd.'People mocked King David for various things - his lineage, his relationship with Batsheva, and, apparently, the Divine decree that he not construct the Beit haMikdash. But he took it in stride. A good lesson, I think, for today's leadership.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Parenting Skills
[See Wednesday's Picture of the Day at Life in Israel]
Over the past couple of years, as my oldest child has moved into teenage years, I've noticed a change in the skills needed for parenting. This is obvious once you think about it – why shouldn't parenting change as children change? – but I'm trying to put my finger on how the needed skill-set changes.
It seems to me that parenting younger children requires four skills: Patience, Advance Planning, Physical Stamina, Confidence-Building.
Patience enables you to deal with frustrations as well as tedium, whether they are a product of the child's will or the child's world.
Advance Planning enables you to avoid problems in the first place, by setting up your child for success.
Physical stamina is critical, from midnight feedings/changings to the long hours needed in blending parenting with the rest of life.
Confidence-Building is huge, in helping children mature with a sense of what they can do, and how they can interact in a healthy way.
I don't know that any of these skills are less necessary with teenagers, but it seems to me that as parents shift from the role of Maker to the role of Counselor, other skills become equally important, or more important: Tzimtzum, Insight, Subtlety and Respect.
Tzimtzum in knowing how not to speak, and how not to be visible in a way that intimidates or encroaches.
Along with tzimtzum comes Subtlety in expressing ideas in ways they will receive well.
Insight in understanding what's behind your child's conduct, or the conduct of those around him/her.
Respect in understanding and appreciating what your children accomplish.
What do you think? Where am I wrong, or what am I missing?
Over the past couple of years, as my oldest child has moved into teenage years, I've noticed a change in the skills needed for parenting. This is obvious once you think about it – why shouldn't parenting change as children change? – but I'm trying to put my finger on how the needed skill-set changes.
It seems to me that parenting younger children requires four skills: Patience, Advance Planning, Physical Stamina, Confidence-Building.
Patience enables you to deal with frustrations as well as tedium, whether they are a product of the child's will or the child's world.
Advance Planning enables you to avoid problems in the first place, by setting up your child for success.
Physical stamina is critical, from midnight feedings/changings to the long hours needed in blending parenting with the rest of life.
Confidence-Building is huge, in helping children mature with a sense of what they can do, and how they can interact in a healthy way.
I don't know that any of these skills are less necessary with teenagers, but it seems to me that as parents shift from the role of Maker to the role of Counselor, other skills become equally important, or more important: Tzimtzum, Insight, Subtlety and Respect.
Tzimtzum in knowing how not to speak, and how not to be visible in a way that intimidates or encroaches.
Along with tzimtzum comes Subtlety in expressing ideas in ways they will receive well.
Insight in understanding what's behind your child's conduct, or the conduct of those around him/her.
Respect in understanding and appreciating what your children accomplish.
What do you think? Where am I wrong, or what am I missing?
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
If that's what it takes, so be it
I found this article funny; here's an excerpt:
Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg recently set off quite a debate in the tech world when she told an interviewer that she works a 9-to-5 schedule:
"I walk out of this office every day at 5:30 so I'm home for dinner with my kids at 6, and interestingly, I've been doing that since I had kids," Sandberg said in a video posted on Makers.com. "I did that when I was at Google, I did that here, and I would say it's not until the last year, two years that I'm brave enough to talk about it publicly. Now I certainly wouldn't lie, but I wasn't running around giving speeches on it."
Here's the essential questions raised by the tech executive's comments and the debate that followed: In a competitive industry where your work is never truly complete, has it become socially awkward to leave work at a time that used to be the standard?
5 PM is "the standard"? In whose world?
That wasn't "the standard" in the rabbinate for me, and it isn't the standard for any synagogue rabbi I know. Even in a hypothetical, most accomodating congregation, where family dinner is respected and rabbis are encouraged to use their vacation days to recharge, I can't see anyone exempting the rabbi from nightly meetings and/or shiurim, from late night and early morning calls, and from the type of schedule which requires that he work well into the night to keep up the pace of classes and speeches.
It's not only the rabbinate, of course; other professions also demand absurd hours. Politicians. Young associates at law firms. Teachers. Plumbers. Medical residents. Accountants, in tax season. Professional sports. Private detectives. And, it appears, the tech industry.
Why should it be the standard, anyway? If you enter a profession then you accept the rules of the game, which need no justification other than, "This is the way the game is played." If you don't like it, get out of the field, but this is part of the job description, because that's what it takes to get the job done in the way the employers want it done.
To take my own former field: Looking after the spiritual needs of hundreds of families, teaching classes, researching halachic questions, functioning as administrator and officiant and publicist for the Jewish community, these take that kind of time, and that's just the way it is.
Frankly, the same is true in my current field; there is no way to do my job without investing 13-16 hours each day; it's just not possible.
And if the same is true in politics, law, or a start-up business, so be it.
Which is why I found that article funny; why should tech be any different?
Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg recently set off quite a debate in the tech world when she told an interviewer that she works a 9-to-5 schedule:
"I walk out of this office every day at 5:30 so I'm home for dinner with my kids at 6, and interestingly, I've been doing that since I had kids," Sandberg said in a video posted on Makers.com. "I did that when I was at Google, I did that here, and I would say it's not until the last year, two years that I'm brave enough to talk about it publicly. Now I certainly wouldn't lie, but I wasn't running around giving speeches on it."
Here's the essential questions raised by the tech executive's comments and the debate that followed: In a competitive industry where your work is never truly complete, has it become socially awkward to leave work at a time that used to be the standard?
5 PM is "the standard"? In whose world?
That wasn't "the standard" in the rabbinate for me, and it isn't the standard for any synagogue rabbi I know. Even in a hypothetical, most accomodating congregation, where family dinner is respected and rabbis are encouraged to use their vacation days to recharge, I can't see anyone exempting the rabbi from nightly meetings and/or shiurim, from late night and early morning calls, and from the type of schedule which requires that he work well into the night to keep up the pace of classes and speeches.
It's not only the rabbinate, of course; other professions also demand absurd hours. Politicians. Young associates at law firms. Teachers. Plumbers. Medical residents. Accountants, in tax season. Professional sports. Private detectives. And, it appears, the tech industry.
Why should it be the standard, anyway? If you enter a profession then you accept the rules of the game, which need no justification other than, "This is the way the game is played." If you don't like it, get out of the field, but this is part of the job description, because that's what it takes to get the job done in the way the employers want it done.
To take my own former field: Looking after the spiritual needs of hundreds of families, teaching classes, researching halachic questions, functioning as administrator and officiant and publicist for the Jewish community, these take that kind of time, and that's just the way it is.
Frankly, the same is true in my current field; there is no way to do my job without investing 13-16 hours each day; it's just not possible.
And if the same is true in politics, law, or a start-up business, so be it.
Which is why I found that article funny; why should tech be any different?
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Multiculturalism and Intermarriage
I'm preparing for a moot court addressing a will which limits the bequest to heirs who do not marry non-Jews. One of the questions involved is whether upholding such a clause is in the interests of Canadian public policy.
[Side note: I am against such clauses, in general. I believe parents should make their Jewish lives attractive to their children, rather than rely on threats. I know that living attractive Jewish lives will not necessarily lead children to emulate their parents - but my outlook is that threats are neither healthy nor good strategy.]
I've been reading cases and articles relating to the topic. Here's a relevant piece from the Canadian Multiculturalism Act:
It is hereby declared to be the policy of the Government of Canada to
(a) recognize and promote the understanding that multiculturalism reflects the cultural and racial diversity of Canadian society and acknowledges the freedom of all members of Canadian society to preserve, enhance and share their cultural heritage;
(b) recognize and promote the understanding that multiculturalism is a fundamental characteristic of the Canadian heritage and identity and that it provides an invaluable resource in the shaping of Canada’s future;
(c) promote the full and equitable participation of individuals and communities of all origins in the continuing evolution and shaping of all aspects of Canadian society and assist them in the elimination of any barrier to that participation;
(d) recognize the existence of communities whose members share a common origin and their historic contribution to Canadian society, and enhance their development;
(e) ensure that all individuals receive equal treatment and equal protection under the law, while respecting and valuing their diversity;
(f) encourage and assist the social, cultural, economic and political institutions of Canada to be both respectful and inclusive of Canada’s multicultural character;
(g) promote the understanding and creativity that arise from the interaction between individuals and communities of different origins;
(h) foster the recognition and appreciation of the diverse cultures of Canadian society and promote the reflection and the evolving expressions of those cultures;
(i) preserve and enhance the use of languages other than English and French, while strengthening the status and use of the official languages of Canada; and
(j) advance multiculturalism throughout Canada in harmony with the national commitment to the official languages of Canada.
My sense is that (a) and (d) support the argument that the Government of Canada, as a matter of policy, recognizes the ability of members of a community to make such clauses, intended to preserve their community. [Separately, I will argue that this clause is neither racist nor discriminatory, since it is based on acceptance of a creed rather than any particular background or heritage.] But that could just be my read.
What do you think?
[Side note: I am against such clauses, in general. I believe parents should make their Jewish lives attractive to their children, rather than rely on threats. I know that living attractive Jewish lives will not necessarily lead children to emulate their parents - but my outlook is that threats are neither healthy nor good strategy.]
I've been reading cases and articles relating to the topic. Here's a relevant piece from the Canadian Multiculturalism Act:
It is hereby declared to be the policy of the Government of Canada to
(a) recognize and promote the understanding that multiculturalism reflects the cultural and racial diversity of Canadian society and acknowledges the freedom of all members of Canadian society to preserve, enhance and share their cultural heritage;
(b) recognize and promote the understanding that multiculturalism is a fundamental characteristic of the Canadian heritage and identity and that it provides an invaluable resource in the shaping of Canada’s future;
(c) promote the full and equitable participation of individuals and communities of all origins in the continuing evolution and shaping of all aspects of Canadian society and assist them in the elimination of any barrier to that participation;
(d) recognize the existence of communities whose members share a common origin and their historic contribution to Canadian society, and enhance their development;
(e) ensure that all individuals receive equal treatment and equal protection under the law, while respecting and valuing their diversity;
(f) encourage and assist the social, cultural, economic and political institutions of Canada to be both respectful and inclusive of Canada’s multicultural character;
(g) promote the understanding and creativity that arise from the interaction between individuals and communities of different origins;
(h) foster the recognition and appreciation of the diverse cultures of Canadian society and promote the reflection and the evolving expressions of those cultures;
(i) preserve and enhance the use of languages other than English and French, while strengthening the status and use of the official languages of Canada; and
(j) advance multiculturalism throughout Canada in harmony with the national commitment to the official languages of Canada.
My sense is that (a) and (d) support the argument that the Government of Canada, as a matter of policy, recognizes the ability of members of a community to make such clauses, intended to preserve their community. [Separately, I will argue that this clause is neither racist nor discriminatory, since it is based on acceptance of a creed rather than any particular background or heritage.] But that could just be my read.
What do you think?
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
The Ritual Committee: Rabbinic Extender
The Ritual Committee, acting with the Rabbi and Gabai, if any, shall assist in the conduct of religious services and distribute honors.
A mentor of mine once told me that a Rabbi’s authority must extend beyond Halachic guidance, to Policy guidance. This seems most logical to me – many communal, synagogue and personal issues are not directly halachic, but would benefit from rabbinic insight.
Examples:
Communal - Allocation of community tzedakah funds.
Synagogue – Planning of Yom haShoah commemorations.
Personal - Co-ed slumber parties for teens.
There are two problems, though:
1. The Rabbi's influence, if brought to bear too often or without being invited, ceases to be influence at all. It becomes a nuisance, and is eventually ignored entirely.
2. On many of these Policy issues, people are personally invested. Therefore, every rabbinic stance is likely to offend someone. Multiply the issues, multiply the offenses.
So how is a rabbi to influence community, synagogue and individuals, without over-using his influence and without making enemies?
One answer: The Rabbinic Extender.
I've heard that a doctor’s support staff is called a “physician extender.” You know – the technicians who take your blood, the nurses who interview you when you come into the office, the physician’s assistant, etc.
The rabbi needs a “rabbinic extender” – someone who will do the job for him, to save his influence for the case in which it is truly needed.
For communal influence, the Rabbinic Extender may be in the person of insitutional board members he trusts.
For personal influence, there really may be no Rabbinic Extender.
For shul influence, enter the Ritual Committee – Rabbinic Extender extraordinaire.
When I first heard of a Ritual Committee, I thought the person was joking.
First, the term ritual is one I hate to use for davening; it connotes an academic coldness inappropriate for davening.
Second, why should anyone other than the rabbi decide what happens during davening?!
But over the years I have come to know better. As far as the first problem, get over it; people use the term “Ritual” and they like it. As far as the second problem, the good Ritual Committee is guided by the rabbi, but makes its own decisions, under its own name. And so, gone is the problem of the rabbi over-using his authority. And, gone is the problem of offending people with decisions; congregants who protest will be reminded that the congregants, themselves, made this decision, via a Board-appointed committee.
The Ritual Committee can decide whether to create a special minyan for a Sunday morning Bar Mitzvah.
The Ritual Committee can decide to encourage chazanim to sing more, or less, or to try new tunes or stick to the traditional ones.
The Ritual Committee can decide who holds the Sifrei Torah at Kol Nidrei.
Unless the issue is clearly and directly halachic, the rabbi can afford the ‘slight’ of having educated laypeople make the decision, in exchange for the benefits he receives.
And one more crucial benefit to having a good Ritual Committee: More people become invested in the davening and its coordination, so that they, and their circle of friends, feel closer to the shul and its operation.
Mind you, despite all of the benefits I generally remained uncomfortable with handing off this authority to a Ritual Committee, and I could do it only because I trusted my Ritual Chairs completely. But that’s the way of many responsibilities in life: If you want to survive with your health and happiness intact, find someone you can trust and then share the responsibility.
(Standard synagogue by-laws)
A mentor of mine once told me that a Rabbi’s authority must extend beyond Halachic guidance, to Policy guidance. This seems most logical to me – many communal, synagogue and personal issues are not directly halachic, but would benefit from rabbinic insight.
Examples:
Communal - Allocation of community tzedakah funds.
Synagogue – Planning of Yom haShoah commemorations.
Personal - Co-ed slumber parties for teens.
There are two problems, though:
1. The Rabbi's influence, if brought to bear too often or without being invited, ceases to be influence at all. It becomes a nuisance, and is eventually ignored entirely.
2. On many of these Policy issues, people are personally invested. Therefore, every rabbinic stance is likely to offend someone. Multiply the issues, multiply the offenses.
So how is a rabbi to influence community, synagogue and individuals, without over-using his influence and without making enemies?
One answer: The Rabbinic Extender.
I've heard that a doctor’s support staff is called a “physician extender.” You know – the technicians who take your blood, the nurses who interview you when you come into the office, the physician’s assistant, etc.
The rabbi needs a “rabbinic extender” – someone who will do the job for him, to save his influence for the case in which it is truly needed.
For communal influence, the Rabbinic Extender may be in the person of insitutional board members he trusts.
For personal influence, there really may be no Rabbinic Extender.
For shul influence, enter the Ritual Committee – Rabbinic Extender extraordinaire.
When I first heard of a Ritual Committee, I thought the person was joking.
First, the term ritual is one I hate to use for davening; it connotes an academic coldness inappropriate for davening.
Second, why should anyone other than the rabbi decide what happens during davening?!
But over the years I have come to know better. As far as the first problem, get over it; people use the term “Ritual” and they like it. As far as the second problem, the good Ritual Committee is guided by the rabbi, but makes its own decisions, under its own name. And so, gone is the problem of the rabbi over-using his authority. And, gone is the problem of offending people with decisions; congregants who protest will be reminded that the congregants, themselves, made this decision, via a Board-appointed committee.
The Ritual Committee can decide whether to create a special minyan for a Sunday morning Bar Mitzvah.
The Ritual Committee can decide to encourage chazanim to sing more, or less, or to try new tunes or stick to the traditional ones.
The Ritual Committee can decide who holds the Sifrei Torah at Kol Nidrei.
Unless the issue is clearly and directly halachic, the rabbi can afford the ‘slight’ of having educated laypeople make the decision, in exchange for the benefits he receives.
And one more crucial benefit to having a good Ritual Committee: More people become invested in the davening and its coordination, so that they, and their circle of friends, feel closer to the shul and its operation.
Mind you, despite all of the benefits I generally remained uncomfortable with handing off this authority to a Ritual Committee, and I could do it only because I trusted my Ritual Chairs completely. But that’s the way of many responsibilities in life: If you want to survive with your health and happiness intact, find someone you can trust and then share the responsibility.
Monday, April 9, 2012
No one learns Divrei haYamim anyway (Post 1000!)
This is Post 1000. Hard to believe, but the milestone is here! [Of course, I could always publish one of my dozen or so posts that are sitting in draft, and then this would be 1001...]
I'm writing this post before Pesach, while preparing a Yom Tov shiur on Divrei haYamim. Divrei haYamim, usually translated as "Chronicles", is the last book in Tanach, and scares people off with the numbing opening lines, "Adam, Shet, Enosh. Kenan, Mahallel, Yared. Chanoch, Metushelach, Lamech. Noach, Shem, Cham and Yefet." And so on.
In looking at the Abarbanel's comments (found in his commentary to Shemuel II) on conflicts between Divrei haYamim and the rest of Nach, I found this gem in his explanation for why he couldn't write on the topic in depth:
This from the sage who mocked Ashkenazim for their lack of efforts and expertise in Nach! Nonetheless, Abarbanel did come up with a fascinating explanation of the goals and methods of Divrei haYamim; here's an excerpt from my source sheet:
Very interesting.
I'm writing this post before Pesach, while preparing a Yom Tov shiur on Divrei haYamim. Divrei haYamim, usually translated as "Chronicles", is the last book in Tanach, and scares people off with the numbing opening lines, "Adam, Shet, Enosh. Kenan, Mahallel, Yared. Chanoch, Metushelach, Lamech. Noach, Shem, Cham and Yefet." And so on.
In looking at the Abarbanel's comments (found in his commentary to Shemuel II) on conflicts between Divrei haYamim and the rest of Nach, I found this gem in his explanation for why he couldn't write on the topic in depth:
וגם הספר ההוא דברי הימים בלתי נהוג אצל היהודים במדרשיהם את חטאי אני מזכיר היום כי לא קראתי בו מימי ולא חפשתי בעניניו מהיותי ועד עתה
Also, this book, Divrei haYamim, is not normally with the Jews in their study halls. I mention my own sin today: I never read it in my life, and I never investigated it, from my birth until now…This from the sage who mocked Ashkenazim for their lack of efforts and expertise in Nach! Nonetheless, Abarbanel did come up with a fascinating explanation of the goals and methods of Divrei haYamim; here's an excerpt from my source sheet:
כאשר ראה הסופר השלם הזה שהשבטים אשר הגלו אשורה ספו... ונותרה בת ציון... וראה ג׳׳כ שהמלכות באמת נתן אלקים לדוד ולזרעו עד עולם, ושאר המלכים אשר מלכו בישראל משאר השבטים לא היו כפי הרצון האלקי, ושלעתיד לבא לא ישאר כי אם מלכות בית דוד... חשב למעלת המלך דוד לספר יחוסו ויחוס שבטו וענינו ומעשיו כלם המורים על שלמותו, והשתלשלות המלכים אשר באו מזרעו
When this complete scribe saw that the tribes exiled to Assyria had been finished… and the daughter of Zion remained… And he saw that Gd had given true monarchy to David and his descendants eternally, and that the other kings who had reigned for Israel from the other tribes had not been in accord with Divine desire, and that in the future only the monarchy of the house of David would remain… He thought to aid King David's stature by telling of his lineage, and that of his tribe, and his matters and deeds, all of which would indicate his completeness. He also thought to speak of the line of kings who came from his descendants…וכלל גדול יהיה גם כן בו בידך, שלהיות כוונת הספר הזה להודיע ולהגיד בו מעלת דוד המלך ושלמיותיו ולא היה דעתו לזכור הענינים אשר עשה קודם המלכתו כי אינם אליו במה שהוא מלך, לכן זכר לבד הדברים אשר נתעלה בהם במלכותו, וגם אז לא ראה לזכור חטאיו והדברי׳ אשר עשה אחרי היותו מלך שאין בהם זכר מעלה ושלמות, כ״ש בהיות בהם גנאי ודופי מה
You should keep a great principle in your hand: Since the intent of this book is to inform us of King David's stature and completeness, and not to include that which David did before his reign, which was not related to his monarchy, therefore he only mentioned that which elevated him in his reign, and not his sins and that which he did after becoming king which did not indicate his stature or completeness, certainly if it contained disgrace or impropriety…Very interesting.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Interested in a Daily Omer reminder?
Gd-willing, I will send out a daily Omer email throughout the Omer, including a note about the day's particular Sefirah as well as an event from that day in Jewish history.
Here are the first two emails:
-
Day 1: Chesed sheb'Chesed - Kindness in Kindness
Please see below for an introduction to the Sephirot, the mystical associations of each day of the Omer. Each day's dvar torah email will focus on the Sephirah associated with that day.
The Sephirah of the Omer's first week is Chesed. Chesed is kindness which motivates a person to give of himself - physically, financially, emotionally - to another.
The term Chesed sheb'Chesed, "the kindness in kindness", suggests the most pure breed of kindness - helping others not because of external goals or benefits, and not begrudgingly or out of a sense of obligation, but purely because one wishes to distribute from one's own resources in order to benefit others.
This may occur naturally in the love of a parent for a child, or of spouses for each other, but it is rare to see this sort of relationship in general society. Today's Sephirah encourages us to develop this trait in ourselves, expressed perhaps in holding a door open, in taking time to speak with a person who needs to talk, in donating to a tzedakah, or in dancing at a wedding.
Certainly, there must be healthy and halachic bounds to our sharing with others, but Chesed sheb'Chesed is about pushing the boundaries, building our desire to be kind to others.
The 16th of Nisan, in Jewish History
Moshe informed the Jews in the wilderness (Vayikra 23:9-14) that upon entry into Israel, they would be obligated to observe the prohibition of chadash. Under this law, the new year's grain is prohibited until a special omer offering is brought on the 16th of Nisan. In the absence of a Mishkan or Beit haMikdash, the arrival of the 16th of Nisan itself permits consumption of the new grain.
In line with this law, Yehoshua 5:9-12 informs us that the first time that the Jews who entered Israel from the wilderness ate from the grain of the land was on the 16th of Nisan, the day after they celebrated Pesach. The manna then stopped falling.
Day 2: Gevurah sheb'Chesed - Restraint in Kindness
Please see below for an introduction to the Sephirot, the mystical associations of each day of the Omer. Each day's dvar torah email will focus on the Sephirah associated with that day.
The Sephirah of the Omer's first week is Chesed. Chesed is kindness which motivates a person to give of himself - physically, financially, emotionally - to another.
However, the Sephirah of the second day of each Omer week is Gevurah. Gevurah is power, and we recall the lesson of Pirkei Avot 4:1: איזהו גבור? הכובש את יצרו, True Gevurah is self-control.
The combined Sephirah for Day 2 of the Omer is therefore Gevurah sheb'Chesed, "power in kindness". This title suggests a controlled kindness, a kindness which exists within healthy and appropriate boundaries.
Boundaries keep people from smothering each other, or stifling growth, or helping in undesired and undesirable ways. For example, as the gemara explains, one should not visit an ill person when he is feeling weak or in an embarrassing situation. In other examples, we are taught to avoid kindness which could be misunderstood or lead to impropriety.
Today's Sephirah reminds us that all good traits, even that of Kindness, must be carefully measured. Even HaShem bounded His kindness when He created the world, and we must do the same when we give to others.
The 17th of Nisan, in Jewish History
Bronya Kutzenok, born to a family of Tchernobler chassidim and married to a teacher, made aliyah in July 1921. She Hebraicized her name to Bracha Peli, and opened a library. Bracha eventually moved into bookselling, and then into publishing with her Masada Press. On the 17th of Nisan, in the year 1926, Bracha held the first "Hebrew Book Day". This became an annual event, morphing into today's "Hebrew Book Week" and "Hebrew Torah Book Week" celebrations, which are held in June.
Introduction to Sephirot
The "Sephirot", or "countings", are ten facets of Divine Creation. They are divided into two portions - the upper 3, and the lower 7. The lower 7 are:
Chesed (kindness);
Gevurah (power);
Tiferet (splendour);
Netzach (victory);
Hod (glory);
Yesod (foundation);
Malchut (monarchy).
We are taught that the 7 weeks of the Omer which take us from Pesach to Shavuot, from escaping Egypt to receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai, are connected to these lower 7 Sephirot. The seven days of each week are also connected to these lower 7 Sephirot.
Thus the first week of the Omer is Chesed (kindness). The first day of that week is Chesed sheb'Chesed (kindness in kindness), the second day of that week is Gevurah sheb'Chesed (power in kindness), the third day of that week is Tiferet sheb'Chesed (splendour in kindness), and so on.
Then the second week of the Omer is Gevurah (power). The first day of that week is Chesed sheb'Gevurah (kindness in power), the second day of that week is Gevurah sheb'Gevurah (power in power), and so on.
But what do these terms mean? What is "kindness in power", for example?
Further, Rav Kook wrote that we are to study these Divine attributes in order to learn how to emulate G-d and draw near to Him. But what lessons can we draw from these attributes, for our own conduct?
Each day of the Omer, we'll publish a dvar torah exploring the message of the special Sephirah for that day, and what it can teach us for our own lives.
-
I may post the Sefirah part on the Daily Torah Thought blog, but I won't be posting the history component there. To sign up, email info@torontotorah.com or follow @zichrondov on Twitter. The emails are free.
Here are the first two emails:
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Day 1: Chesed sheb'Chesed - Kindness in Kindness
Please see below for an introduction to the Sephirot, the mystical associations of each day of the Omer. Each day's dvar torah email will focus on the Sephirah associated with that day.
The Sephirah of the Omer's first week is Chesed. Chesed is kindness which motivates a person to give of himself - physically, financially, emotionally - to another.
The term Chesed sheb'Chesed, "the kindness in kindness", suggests the most pure breed of kindness - helping others not because of external goals or benefits, and not begrudgingly or out of a sense of obligation, but purely because one wishes to distribute from one's own resources in order to benefit others.
This may occur naturally in the love of a parent for a child, or of spouses for each other, but it is rare to see this sort of relationship in general society. Today's Sephirah encourages us to develop this trait in ourselves, expressed perhaps in holding a door open, in taking time to speak with a person who needs to talk, in donating to a tzedakah, or in dancing at a wedding.
Certainly, there must be healthy and halachic bounds to our sharing with others, but Chesed sheb'Chesed is about pushing the boundaries, building our desire to be kind to others.
The 16th of Nisan, in Jewish History
Moshe informed the Jews in the wilderness (Vayikra 23:9-14) that upon entry into Israel, they would be obligated to observe the prohibition of chadash. Under this law, the new year's grain is prohibited until a special omer offering is brought on the 16th of Nisan. In the absence of a Mishkan or Beit haMikdash, the arrival of the 16th of Nisan itself permits consumption of the new grain.
In line with this law, Yehoshua 5:9-12 informs us that the first time that the Jews who entered Israel from the wilderness ate from the grain of the land was on the 16th of Nisan, the day after they celebrated Pesach. The manna then stopped falling.
Day 2: Gevurah sheb'Chesed - Restraint in Kindness
Please see below for an introduction to the Sephirot, the mystical associations of each day of the Omer. Each day's dvar torah email will focus on the Sephirah associated with that day.
The Sephirah of the Omer's first week is Chesed. Chesed is kindness which motivates a person to give of himself - physically, financially, emotionally - to another.
However, the Sephirah of the second day of each Omer week is Gevurah. Gevurah is power, and we recall the lesson of Pirkei Avot 4:1: איזהו גבור? הכובש את יצרו, True Gevurah is self-control.
The combined Sephirah for Day 2 of the Omer is therefore Gevurah sheb'Chesed, "power in kindness". This title suggests a controlled kindness, a kindness which exists within healthy and appropriate boundaries.
Boundaries keep people from smothering each other, or stifling growth, or helping in undesired and undesirable ways. For example, as the gemara explains, one should not visit an ill person when he is feeling weak or in an embarrassing situation. In other examples, we are taught to avoid kindness which could be misunderstood or lead to impropriety.
Today's Sephirah reminds us that all good traits, even that of Kindness, must be carefully measured. Even HaShem bounded His kindness when He created the world, and we must do the same when we give to others.
The 17th of Nisan, in Jewish History
Bronya Kutzenok, born to a family of Tchernobler chassidim and married to a teacher, made aliyah in July 1921. She Hebraicized her name to Bracha Peli, and opened a library. Bracha eventually moved into bookselling, and then into publishing with her Masada Press. On the 17th of Nisan, in the year 1926, Bracha held the first "Hebrew Book Day". This became an annual event, morphing into today's "Hebrew Book Week" and "Hebrew Torah Book Week" celebrations, which are held in June.
Introduction to Sephirot
The "Sephirot", or "countings", are ten facets of Divine Creation. They are divided into two portions - the upper 3, and the lower 7. The lower 7 are:
Chesed (kindness);
Gevurah (power);
Tiferet (splendour);
Netzach (victory);
Hod (glory);
Yesod (foundation);
Malchut (monarchy).
We are taught that the 7 weeks of the Omer which take us from Pesach to Shavuot, from escaping Egypt to receiving the Torah at Mount Sinai, are connected to these lower 7 Sephirot. The seven days of each week are also connected to these lower 7 Sephirot.
Thus the first week of the Omer is Chesed (kindness). The first day of that week is Chesed sheb'Chesed (kindness in kindness), the second day of that week is Gevurah sheb'Chesed (power in kindness), the third day of that week is Tiferet sheb'Chesed (splendour in kindness), and so on.
Then the second week of the Omer is Gevurah (power). The first day of that week is Chesed sheb'Gevurah (kindness in power), the second day of that week is Gevurah sheb'Gevurah (power in power), and so on.
But what do these terms mean? What is "kindness in power", for example?
Further, Rav Kook wrote that we are to study these Divine attributes in order to learn how to emulate G-d and draw near to Him. But what lessons can we draw from these attributes, for our own conduct?
Each day of the Omer, we'll publish a dvar torah exploring the message of the special Sephirah for that day, and what it can teach us for our own lives.
-
I may post the Sefirah part on the Daily Torah Thought blog, but I won't be posting the history component there. To sign up, email info@torontotorah.com or follow @zichrondov on Twitter. The emails are free.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
The Rabbi's Pesach Stress
Why did your Rabbi cringe today when you approached him with that ladle?
Why does he start to tremble when people mention smoothtop stoves or granite countertops?
Is he ever going to have a normal expression on his face when someone mentions quinoa?
Yes, we are at the height of pre-Pesach rabbinic stress. It's all about the shailos (halachic questions).
I've written in the past about the stress that comes with answering shalos. It's hard to apply halachic principles to practical situations, and to be sure we have asked the right questions and understood the responses.
Certain types of questions are worse than others. Niddah questions, when a couple is having fertility problems. Yom Kippur fasting for people in poor health. And, yes, Pesach questions. We have established principles for leniency, but applying them is tough.
Example 1: "I inherited a used set of china from a relative who did not observe kashrut; can I kasher it for Pesach?"
For year-round use, the answer is easier; since the alternative to kashering would be to throw it out, and china is valuable, the argument for leniency due to hefsed (financial loss) is clear. But regarding Pesach, there is a rabbinic counter-argument: "You won't lose money if you save this china for year-round use." To which the congregant might respond, "But I don't have a nice set of china for the seder." Well, just how important is having such a set for the seder?
Example 2: "I was given a $50 bottle of Scotch for Purim. Can I include it in my sale of chametz?"
Following the view that one may sell bona fide chametz only in a case of financial loss, we now need to define financial loss. On the one hand, $50 is a loss – the congregant would never go out and spend $50 on liquor on his own. On the other hand, is it really such a loss? He pays annual tuition of $23,000 for his daughter's high school education, and he wouldn't blink if it was suddenly $23,050.
Example 3: "Can I drink Lactaid on Pesach? I get cramps from regular milk."
Assuming (as I believe major kashrut organizations do) that Lactaid poses a kitniyos problem, it is permitted for someone who needs to drink milk, and who cannot use regular milk. But define "needs to drink milk". And "cannot use regular milk", for that matter.
And the cases go on and on.
It's rare that I feel good about no longer being in the shul rabbinate, but pre-Pesach is one of those times…
Why does he start to tremble when people mention smoothtop stoves or granite countertops?
Is he ever going to have a normal expression on his face when someone mentions quinoa?
Yes, we are at the height of pre-Pesach rabbinic stress. It's all about the shailos (halachic questions).
I've written in the past about the stress that comes with answering shalos. It's hard to apply halachic principles to practical situations, and to be sure we have asked the right questions and understood the responses.
Certain types of questions are worse than others. Niddah questions, when a couple is having fertility problems. Yom Kippur fasting for people in poor health. And, yes, Pesach questions. We have established principles for leniency, but applying them is tough.
Example 1: "I inherited a used set of china from a relative who did not observe kashrut; can I kasher it for Pesach?"
For year-round use, the answer is easier; since the alternative to kashering would be to throw it out, and china is valuable, the argument for leniency due to hefsed (financial loss) is clear. But regarding Pesach, there is a rabbinic counter-argument: "You won't lose money if you save this china for year-round use." To which the congregant might respond, "But I don't have a nice set of china for the seder." Well, just how important is having such a set for the seder?
Example 2: "I was given a $50 bottle of Scotch for Purim. Can I include it in my sale of chametz?"
Following the view that one may sell bona fide chametz only in a case of financial loss, we now need to define financial loss. On the one hand, $50 is a loss – the congregant would never go out and spend $50 on liquor on his own. On the other hand, is it really such a loss? He pays annual tuition of $23,000 for his daughter's high school education, and he wouldn't blink if it was suddenly $23,050.
Example 3: "Can I drink Lactaid on Pesach? I get cramps from regular milk."
Assuming (as I believe major kashrut organizations do) that Lactaid poses a kitniyos problem, it is permitted for someone who needs to drink milk, and who cannot use regular milk. But define "needs to drink milk". And "cannot use regular milk", for that matter.
And the cases go on and on.
It's rare that I feel good about no longer being in the shul rabbinate, but pre-Pesach is one of those times…
Monday, April 2, 2012
Kitniyos
A few years ago, I posted an article on-line about the gezeirah/minhag called "kitniyos", under which Ashkenazi Jews of the past 700-800 years have refrained from eating legumes, rice and assorted other non-chametz produce during the week of Pesach.
The practice originated out of concern for grain being mixed in with other products during harvesting or processing, as well as concern that permitting kitniyos products might lead to accidental permission of the chametz products they resemble.
My position in that post was that the kitniyos decree is founded upon solid logic (even if some of its modern extensions are not), and that it doesn't create great hardship (how many of us need to eat rice or beans every week?). [Where it does create great hardship, such as for those with extreme food allergies or for babies who need soy formula, kitniyos are approved.] So I argued against the popular resentment of this practice.
I didn't think my position was that radical, but others disagreed.
I re-visit this subject now in order to add a point: It seems to me that some of the resentment for kitniyos stems not from any hunger for rice, but from a basic lack of trust for rabbis, leading to automatic rejection of their statements and rulings.
Example: The other day I heard a rabbi cite a classic midrash regarding Sarah's biblical prepartion of "cakes" for guests; the midrash, basing itself on textual evidence, says that this event occurred on Pesach. Despite the textual evidence, I noticed someone nearby groan reflexively. Why? I think it was not because the midrash was particularly questionable, but because it was a rabbinic teaching.
There are several factors here.
The populism which dominates government,
the democratization of information,
the rise of critical thinking,
the revelation of scandal among religious and political leaders,
the proliferation of independent philosophical paths,
lead to rejection of leadership, religious and otherwise, Jewish and general. I don't view any of these factors as automatically negative, but the result is a thoughtless, knee-jerk rejection of leaders.
Add in external pressure from those who reject religion altogether and highlight its foibles at every opportunity, and the result is that religious dicta are challenged and rejected not on their merits, but because of their source.
I find this sad. There is much to debate in the arena of kitniyos, and much to be learned from the general challenging of rabbinic teaching. Rabbis who are expected to explain and defend their teachings will produce stronger Torah. But when the rejection comes from reflex rather than reflection, well – that which is poorly conceived is poorly received.
The practice originated out of concern for grain being mixed in with other products during harvesting or processing, as well as concern that permitting kitniyos products might lead to accidental permission of the chametz products they resemble.
My position in that post was that the kitniyos decree is founded upon solid logic (even if some of its modern extensions are not), and that it doesn't create great hardship (how many of us need to eat rice or beans every week?). [Where it does create great hardship, such as for those with extreme food allergies or for babies who need soy formula, kitniyos are approved.] So I argued against the popular resentment of this practice.
I didn't think my position was that radical, but others disagreed.
I re-visit this subject now in order to add a point: It seems to me that some of the resentment for kitniyos stems not from any hunger for rice, but from a basic lack of trust for rabbis, leading to automatic rejection of their statements and rulings.
Example: The other day I heard a rabbi cite a classic midrash regarding Sarah's biblical prepartion of "cakes" for guests; the midrash, basing itself on textual evidence, says that this event occurred on Pesach. Despite the textual evidence, I noticed someone nearby groan reflexively. Why? I think it was not because the midrash was particularly questionable, but because it was a rabbinic teaching.
There are several factors here.
The populism which dominates government,
the democratization of information,
the rise of critical thinking,
the revelation of scandal among religious and political leaders,
the proliferation of independent philosophical paths,
lead to rejection of leadership, religious and otherwise, Jewish and general. I don't view any of these factors as automatically negative, but the result is a thoughtless, knee-jerk rejection of leaders.
Add in external pressure from those who reject religion altogether and highlight its foibles at every opportunity, and the result is that religious dicta are challenged and rejected not on their merits, but because of their source.
I find this sad. There is much to debate in the arena of kitniyos, and much to be learned from the general challenging of rabbinic teaching. Rabbis who are expected to explain and defend their teachings will produce stronger Torah. But when the rejection comes from reflex rather than reflection, well – that which is poorly conceived is poorly received.
Friday, March 30, 2012
An Erev Pesach thought
This is an article I wrote for this week's Toronto Torah. I think I overwrote it a bit, but I still like it...
Our ancestor Yitzchak sought to pass the blessing of his father, Avraham, to his elder son, Esav. He summoned Esav and said, in the words of a midrash (Pirkei d'Rabbi Eliezer 31), "My son! Tonight the upper realms sing, tonight the stores of dew are opened, today is the blessing of the dew. Prepare tasty food for me, and I will bless you while I yet live." This midrash then continues to tell us that the date when Esav was to be blessed, but instead Yaakov inherited his father's mantle, was the fourteenth of Nisan, commonly known as Erev Pesach.
Why should we associate the communication of this ancestral blessing with Pesach? This midrash explains that Yitzchak's menu betrays the secret; why else would this elderly patriarch have been interested in a meal of two goats? This must have been a desire to anticipate the future Pesach celebration by partaking in a korban chagigah and a korban pesach.
We might amplify the midrashic connection by noting that Yitzchak's blessing was drawn to the fourteenth of Nisan by intent, not coincidence. The midrash itself states that Yitzchak chose this date for its special portent; building on that text, we might suggest that the fourteenth, when the stores of dew are opened, is a day of fateful transition, completion of ancient journeys and incipience of new ones.
That original fourteenth of Nisan certainly fits this description. Conferral of Avraham's heritage upon Yaakov marked the completion of Avraham and Sarah's journey, the selection of a third fibre for the triple-threaded cord (Kohelet 4:12) which would anchor the continuity of the Jewish people. At the same time, though, a new journey began, for on this day Yaakov was compelled to flee into exile, embarking upon the creation of the nucleus of the Jewish people, the seventy souls who would ultimately descend to Egypt.
In the days of the original Pesach, too, the fourteenth represented a critical historical juncture. A nation of slaves sacrificed the Pesach lamb and thereby completed the sentence decreed centuries earlier, ending its sojourn in a land not its own. At the same instant, a nation of free women and men took their first tentative steps in the service of G-d, trailing pillars of fire and cloud into the wilderness.
Forever forward in Jewish history, as we note in Nirtzah, the fourteenth would be a moment of transition, the hours of entrée into "chatzi halaylah" beginning a new day.
This completion-and-beginning character of the fourteenth of Nisan is seen in the Talmud Yerushalmi, too, in two different explanations for the prohibition against labour on that date. The sages offered two different explanations for this prohibition:
"It would be illogical for you to be immersed in your work, while your korban was brought." (Talmud Yerushalmi Pesachim 4:1)
"Exodus 12:11 identifies this day as 'It is a Pesach for G-d'." (Talmud Yerushalmi Pesachim 4:6)
The first explanation sees the fourteenth as Erev Pesach, when we sacrifice a korban which will only be eaten that night; we do not perform work because we must occupy ourselves with preparation for that night. The fourteenth is a bridesmaid, her honour acquired by association with a journey which will begin only after her time is past. The second explanation, though, sees the fourteenth as Pesach, a holiday in its own right, "Pesach for G-d." This date is a milestone, completing the historic path.
Certainly, we are more familiar with the fourteenth of Nisan as "Erev Pesach," but our sages did refer to this day as "Pesach", a Yom Tov in its right. As noted by Professor Yitzchak Gilat (http://www.vbm-torah.org/vtc/0041789.html), the Mishnah (Pesachim 1:7) identified the fourteenth by the name "Pesach". Philo, living two thousand years ago, called it "Pesach", as did Josephus in his Wars of the Jews.
This dual message is ours to claim on the fourteenth of Nisan, every year. The Jew does not equate "history" with "past"; we see historic milestones in every birth, bat mitzvah, wedding and death, and we view our personal and communal drives toward spiritual achievement through lenses of portent and meaning. The fourteenth of Nisan, then, is an ideal time to take stock of where we have been, to see the journey of the past year as complete, and to celebrate a Pesach. At the same time, it is the establishment of new goals, the start of a new journey, an Erev Pesach. May this year's fourteenth serve as both for all of us, ushering in greater redemption for us all.
Our ancestor Yitzchak sought to pass the blessing of his father, Avraham, to his elder son, Esav. He summoned Esav and said, in the words of a midrash (Pirkei d'Rabbi Eliezer 31), "My son! Tonight the upper realms sing, tonight the stores of dew are opened, today is the blessing of the dew. Prepare tasty food for me, and I will bless you while I yet live." This midrash then continues to tell us that the date when Esav was to be blessed, but instead Yaakov inherited his father's mantle, was the fourteenth of Nisan, commonly known as Erev Pesach.
Why should we associate the communication of this ancestral blessing with Pesach? This midrash explains that Yitzchak's menu betrays the secret; why else would this elderly patriarch have been interested in a meal of two goats? This must have been a desire to anticipate the future Pesach celebration by partaking in a korban chagigah and a korban pesach.
We might amplify the midrashic connection by noting that Yitzchak's blessing was drawn to the fourteenth of Nisan by intent, not coincidence. The midrash itself states that Yitzchak chose this date for its special portent; building on that text, we might suggest that the fourteenth, when the stores of dew are opened, is a day of fateful transition, completion of ancient journeys and incipience of new ones.
That original fourteenth of Nisan certainly fits this description. Conferral of Avraham's heritage upon Yaakov marked the completion of Avraham and Sarah's journey, the selection of a third fibre for the triple-threaded cord (Kohelet 4:12) which would anchor the continuity of the Jewish people. At the same time, though, a new journey began, for on this day Yaakov was compelled to flee into exile, embarking upon the creation of the nucleus of the Jewish people, the seventy souls who would ultimately descend to Egypt.
In the days of the original Pesach, too, the fourteenth represented a critical historical juncture. A nation of slaves sacrificed the Pesach lamb and thereby completed the sentence decreed centuries earlier, ending its sojourn in a land not its own. At the same instant, a nation of free women and men took their first tentative steps in the service of G-d, trailing pillars of fire and cloud into the wilderness.
Forever forward in Jewish history, as we note in Nirtzah, the fourteenth would be a moment of transition, the hours of entrée into "chatzi halaylah" beginning a new day.
This completion-and-beginning character of the fourteenth of Nisan is seen in the Talmud Yerushalmi, too, in two different explanations for the prohibition against labour on that date. The sages offered two different explanations for this prohibition:
"It would be illogical for you to be immersed in your work, while your korban was brought." (Talmud Yerushalmi Pesachim 4:1)
"Exodus 12:11 identifies this day as 'It is a Pesach for G-d'." (Talmud Yerushalmi Pesachim 4:6)
The first explanation sees the fourteenth as Erev Pesach, when we sacrifice a korban which will only be eaten that night; we do not perform work because we must occupy ourselves with preparation for that night. The fourteenth is a bridesmaid, her honour acquired by association with a journey which will begin only after her time is past. The second explanation, though, sees the fourteenth as Pesach, a holiday in its own right, "Pesach for G-d." This date is a milestone, completing the historic path.
Certainly, we are more familiar with the fourteenth of Nisan as "Erev Pesach," but our sages did refer to this day as "Pesach", a Yom Tov in its right. As noted by Professor Yitzchak Gilat (http://www.vbm-torah.org/vtc/0041789.html), the Mishnah (Pesachim 1:7) identified the fourteenth by the name "Pesach". Philo, living two thousand years ago, called it "Pesach", as did Josephus in his Wars of the Jews.
This dual message is ours to claim on the fourteenth of Nisan, every year. The Jew does not equate "history" with "past"; we see historic milestones in every birth, bat mitzvah, wedding and death, and we view our personal and communal drives toward spiritual achievement through lenses of portent and meaning. The fourteenth of Nisan, then, is an ideal time to take stock of where we have been, to see the journey of the past year as complete, and to celebrate a Pesach. At the same time, it is the establishment of new goals, the start of a new journey, an Erev Pesach. May this year's fourteenth serve as both for all of us, ushering in greater redemption for us all.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Not the mother-in-law you want, I think...
Thanks to ProfK, I became aware of this Jewish Press article yesterday. [If your sensitivities are like mine, do not click on that link within an hour after eating.] Mrs. Yitta Halberstam, the author of the article, contends that girls should be encouraged to examine their looks and undertake cosmetic transformation, including surgery, to improve their chances of finding a shidduch [or, as we see in the article, finding mothers-in-law who will approve of them as a shidduch for their sons].
The concept of pursuing beauty for the sake of a shidduch is old; I've given shiurim on the conflicting views presented by Rav Moshe Feinstein and Rav Eliezer Waldenberg on the topic of cosmetic surgery for a shidduch, and the positions of various poskim. And you can see my thoughts on the importance of beauty in an old post ("You're so vain") here. I get it. But the message in this woman's article, and the way she puts it, is stomach-turning for me.
Here's an excerpt, describing a gathering the author attended. Believe it or not, the gathering was for mothers of eligible bachelors to meet eligible young women who might date their sons - that's right, the mother-in-law is now the chair of the Search Committee:
Let me tell you about this particular population of girls: They were between the ages of 21 and 24, and mostly seeking “learning boys.” (The organizers’ plan for the future is to hold additional events for other age groups and different categories of boys: learners/earners, professionals, working boys only, etc.) They were eidel, frum, sincere, intelligent, and committed to the learning ideal. But even the most temimasdika ben Torah is looking for a wife whom he finds attractive. Yes, spiritual beauty makes a woman’s eyes glow and casts a luminous sheen over her face; there is no beauty like a pure soul. Make-up, however, goes a long way in both correcting facial flaws and accentuating one’s assets, and if my cursory inspection was indeed accurate (and I apologize if the girls used such natural make-up that I simply couldn’t tell), barely any of these girls seemed to have made a huge effort to deck themselves out.
Since most of the young women at chasunas seem quite presentable, I couldn’t shake off my sense of disbelief as I looked around now. What were they thinking? How had their mothers allowed them to leave their homes with limp hair and unadorned faces? With just a little blush, eyeliner and lip-gloss, they could have gone from average to pretty. There are very few women who can’t use a little extra help. Even the most celebrated magazine models can look downright plain when stripped of all cosmetics, al achas kamah v’kamah girls who are not born with perfect features. So what was going on? Were they in denial about the qualities young men are seeking in future wives? Yes, it is somewhat disillusioning that men dedicated to full-time Torah learning possess what these girls might perceive are superficial values, but brass tacks: they want a spouse to whom they are attracted. The young men themselves might be too shy or ashamed to admit it, but their mothers won’t hesitate to ask what for some is the deal maker/deal breaker question, namely: “Is she pretty?”
Thankfully, every one’s conception of attractiveness is different; beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and a woman’s intellect, personality and soul can have a tremendous bearing on the way in which her beauty is perceived. Still, there is trying, and then there is not trying. The mystery perplexed me: Why hadn’t some of the girls gone overboard in presenting themselves in the best possible light? I felt like shaking them in despair. As I further scanned the room (I had started assuming the role of disembodied observer once I realized that I was at the wrong event; my son is learning full time now, but plans to pursue a Ph.D so he wasn’t appropriate for this particular group), I could not help but notice the number of girls who could have vastly improved their appearances–gone from plain Jane to truly beautiful–if they simply made some effort.
This strikes me as so wrong, on so many levels. I'll pick just two:
1. Legitimization of the Beauty Pageant - Yes, boys are attracted by attractive women. And yes, the mishnah at the end of Taanis describes women from the time of the second Beis haMikdash luring men by saying תנו עיניכם ביופי, "Look who beautiful we are." But (1) That was a different psychological world in many ways, and it should not necessarily be re-created, and (2) They also said "Look how wealthy we are," and I don't see Mrs. Halberstam suggesting women should go out and get advanced job training to make a lot of money in order to attract a gold-digging shidduch and/or mother-in-law.
2. The role of the mother-in-law - I would hate to be such a woman's daughter-in-law.
Can you imagine what will happen every time this eventual mother-in-law wishes to visit? Is the daughter-in-law going to need to pretty herself in the maternity ward after giving birth, apply lipstick while cleaning up after a two-year-old, or work on her mascara while juggling multiple children and job, in order to convince her mother-in-law that she is doing everything possible to appease her husband's need for aesthetic satisfaction?
And beyond the immediate "No woman [who won't prettify herself] is good enough for my son" arena, what will this do to the family dynamic, in general? Now that we're appointing the mother-in-law as Chair of the Search Committee, is she ever going to abandon that position?
I would go on, but - what's the use.
Really.
The concept of pursuing beauty for the sake of a shidduch is old; I've given shiurim on the conflicting views presented by Rav Moshe Feinstein and Rav Eliezer Waldenberg on the topic of cosmetic surgery for a shidduch, and the positions of various poskim. And you can see my thoughts on the importance of beauty in an old post ("You're so vain") here. I get it. But the message in this woman's article, and the way she puts it, is stomach-turning for me.
Here's an excerpt, describing a gathering the author attended. Believe it or not, the gathering was for mothers of eligible bachelors to meet eligible young women who might date their sons - that's right, the mother-in-law is now the chair of the Search Committee:
Let me tell you about this particular population of girls: They were between the ages of 21 and 24, and mostly seeking “learning boys.” (The organizers’ plan for the future is to hold additional events for other age groups and different categories of boys: learners/earners, professionals, working boys only, etc.) They were eidel, frum, sincere, intelligent, and committed to the learning ideal. But even the most temimasdika ben Torah is looking for a wife whom he finds attractive. Yes, spiritual beauty makes a woman’s eyes glow and casts a luminous sheen over her face; there is no beauty like a pure soul. Make-up, however, goes a long way in both correcting facial flaws and accentuating one’s assets, and if my cursory inspection was indeed accurate (and I apologize if the girls used such natural make-up that I simply couldn’t tell), barely any of these girls seemed to have made a huge effort to deck themselves out.
Since most of the young women at chasunas seem quite presentable, I couldn’t shake off my sense of disbelief as I looked around now. What were they thinking? How had their mothers allowed them to leave their homes with limp hair and unadorned faces? With just a little blush, eyeliner and lip-gloss, they could have gone from average to pretty. There are very few women who can’t use a little extra help. Even the most celebrated magazine models can look downright plain when stripped of all cosmetics, al achas kamah v’kamah girls who are not born with perfect features. So what was going on? Were they in denial about the qualities young men are seeking in future wives? Yes, it is somewhat disillusioning that men dedicated to full-time Torah learning possess what these girls might perceive are superficial values, but brass tacks: they want a spouse to whom they are attracted. The young men themselves might be too shy or ashamed to admit it, but their mothers won’t hesitate to ask what for some is the deal maker/deal breaker question, namely: “Is she pretty?”
Thankfully, every one’s conception of attractiveness is different; beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and a woman’s intellect, personality and soul can have a tremendous bearing on the way in which her beauty is perceived. Still, there is trying, and then there is not trying. The mystery perplexed me: Why hadn’t some of the girls gone overboard in presenting themselves in the best possible light? I felt like shaking them in despair. As I further scanned the room (I had started assuming the role of disembodied observer once I realized that I was at the wrong event; my son is learning full time now, but plans to pursue a Ph.D so he wasn’t appropriate for this particular group), I could not help but notice the number of girls who could have vastly improved their appearances–gone from plain Jane to truly beautiful–if they simply made some effort.
This strikes me as so wrong, on so many levels. I'll pick just two:
1. Legitimization of the Beauty Pageant - Yes, boys are attracted by attractive women. And yes, the mishnah at the end of Taanis describes women from the time of the second Beis haMikdash luring men by saying תנו עיניכם ביופי, "Look who beautiful we are." But (1) That was a different psychological world in many ways, and it should not necessarily be re-created, and (2) They also said "Look how wealthy we are," and I don't see Mrs. Halberstam suggesting women should go out and get advanced job training to make a lot of money in order to attract a gold-digging shidduch and/or mother-in-law.
2. The role of the mother-in-law - I would hate to be such a woman's daughter-in-law.
Can you imagine what will happen every time this eventual mother-in-law wishes to visit? Is the daughter-in-law going to need to pretty herself in the maternity ward after giving birth, apply lipstick while cleaning up after a two-year-old, or work on her mascara while juggling multiple children and job, in order to convince her mother-in-law that she is doing everything possible to appease her husband's need for aesthetic satisfaction?
And beyond the immediate "No woman [who won't prettify herself] is good enough for my son" arena, what will this do to the family dynamic, in general? Now that we're appointing the mother-in-law as Chair of the Search Committee, is she ever going to abandon that position?
I would go on, but - what's the use.
Really.
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