Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Shiur Theatre: Claiming Jerusalem, Act Two

Act One was in the previous post - here is Act Two...



ACT TWO – The Jewish History of Jerusalem

Marty is sleeping in a chair, where there is a knock at the door. Marty jerks awake.

MARTY (tense): Who's there?

GHOST (wearing desert garb): I am the ghost of Jerusalem past. (pause) Boo.

Marty, frightened, picks up his phone to call 911

GHOST: Forget it – everyone knows you can't get cell reception in the BAYT.

MARTY (dropping phone): If you're a ghost, why are you knocking?

GHOST: I am a polite ghost. Also, East Jerusalem is not exactly the sort of place to walk into a room unannounced; you might not make it out.

MARTY: Well, you're not interrupting much here. You're welcome to come in and sit down, but I don't have a chair for you. I don't even have a bed, thanks to this cut-rate tour.

GHOST: I'm not here to sit, I am here to make sure your ancestors are heard. From off in the heavens I overheard your guide, Mahmoud, talking to you today, and I felt obligated to add another point of view - yours. To start with, I'm going to show you what the Bible says happened in Jerusalem, long ago. Look, over there. (points; he and Marty freeze or walk off to let the attention shift to the other actors)

KING DAVID approaches Aravnah haYevusi[1]

ARAVNAH HAYEVUSI bows, then declares: My master, the king! When you conquered Jerusalem, you graciously permitted me, Aravnah of Yevus, to remain in possession of my humble threshing floor. Why have you now come to your servant? Have I offended you?

KING DAVID: Have no fear, Aravnah; I have come to purchase your threshing floor. True, I already control Jerusalem, but the prophet Gad has informed me that I must purchase your threshing floor and build an altar for HaShem there, in order to stop a plague which has befallen my nation as punishment for my sins.

ARAVNAH HAYEVUSI: But why my threshing floor?

KING DAVID: This is no mere threshing floor, but Mount Moriah, where Avraham offered his son Yitzchak to HaShem,[2] indeed, where tradition states that Adam was created, where Kayin and Hevel offered up gifts to HaShem, where Noach sacrificed and HaShem pledged that He would no longer flood this world.[3] Now, let me halt this plague.

ARAVNAH HAYEVUSI: Certainly – but there is no need for money, take it, it's all yours, and use my equipment for firewood and my animals for an offering!

KING DAVID: No, Aravnah, I must purchase it; please, take my 50 coins.

ARAVNAH HAYEVUSI accepts it.

(KING DAVID and ARAVNAH HAYEVUSI disappear)

GHOST: That is the story of Jerusalem past – some 3000 years ago, give or take. That event, and even earlier when Avraham offered up his son Yitzchak – I would act those out, too, but our cast is a bit thin. Nonetheless, this is when Jerusalem became holy for Jews, when we built a Temple there.

MARTY: That doesn't sound so different from the Muslim story. Muslims have Allah bring Muhammad to the place, Jews have Gd tell King David to build an altar at this place.

GHOST: True – but for Jews, at least, the holiness requires human beings. Gd chooses the site, but He says He won't be manifest there until we build a Temple.[4] When Moses Maimonides describes the holiness of the site of the Temple, he records a list of human activities. He wrote,[5] "Our tradition is that the site where David and Solomon built an altar, in the threshing floor of Aravnah, is the site where Avraham built an altar and bound Yitzchak. It is the same place where Noach built an altar after leaving the Ark. It is the same place where Kayin and Hevel brought offerings. It is the same place where Adam brought an offering when he was created..." So says Maimonides – the holiness is from our own deeds.

MARTY: But wait – If Gd hadn't picked the spot, all of those actions would still not have made it holy.

GHOST: True enough, it's a partnership. Look, in Judaism we have something called a bechor, a firstborn.

MARTY: Right – in the Bible it's his job to try to kill his younger sibling, right?

GHOST: We'll leave that aside for now. Right now, I'm talking about firstborn animals – and those are considered holy automatically, when they are born.[6] And yet, the Torah says to sanctify them,[7] and this is a mitzvah.[8] Gd sets the stage, but we have an active role. This is our belief – the holiness of Jerusalem is something we create.

MARTY: That's heavy, doc.

GHOST: Listen, Marty – tomorrow, ask your guide, Mahmoud, what he can tell you about the religious meaning of the city of Jerusalem.


[1] Shemuel II 24, Divrei haYamim I 21
[2] Divrei haYamim II 3:1
[3] Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Beis haBechirah 2:1-2
[4] As in Shemot 25:8
[5] Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Beis haBechirah 2:1-2
[6] See Bechorot 56a, for example
[7] Shemot 13:2
[8] Erchin 29a; Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Bechoros 1:4

Monday, May 6, 2013

Shiur Theatre: Claiming Jerusalem, Act One

Our Beit Midrash presented another installation of Shiur Theatre this week, in honour of Yom Yerushalayim. Our title is Claiming Jerusalem. We had a lot of fun with this one...

Here is Act One; I hope to post the remaining acts throughout the week:



ACT ONE – The Muslim History of Jerusalem


Mahmoud and Marty walk into the scene from off-stage, talking to each other. Mahmoud is gesturing to the scenery around them.

MAHMOUD (coming into room mid-sentence): …just offensive to me, these Jews running my city as though they belong here.

MARTY (trailing just behind Mahmoud): You do know that I'm Jewish, right?

MAHMOUD: Yes, but you are, eh… respectful. You know that in order for you to become educated regarding the Middle East, you must study under an Arab instructor, a Muslim. You understand that this is an Arab city, Al-Quds, not a Jewish city.

MARTY (genuinely curious): Was Al-Quds always Muslim, from the beginning?

MAHMOUD: Oh, yes, this whole land was Muslim, all of Palestine was Muslim, going back to the days of Ibrahim, peace be upon him.

MARTY: Abraham? But wasn't Abraham Jewish?

MAHMOUD: Muslim.

MARTY: Are you like the Mormons, baptizing people after they 're dead?

MAHMOUD: No! Ibrahim was Muslim through and through, as sure as he sacrificed his son Isma'il before Gd. As the Quran says, in Sura Al Baqara,[1] "And remember when his Lord tried Ibrahim with certain commands which he fulfilled. He said, ‘I will make thee a Leader of men.’" Ibrahim was a Muslim, and his son Isma'il was a Muslim.

MARTY: And Isaac?

MAHMOUD: Muslim.

MARTY: Jacob? Moses?

MAHMOUD: Muslim, peace be upon them. As the Quran[2] says, "We make no difference between any of them." Even your King David – a Muslim.

MARTY: So is there anyone in the Bible who is not Muslim?

MAHMOUD: Pharaoh.[3]

MARTY: Abraham, Isaac and Jacob were Muslim – but the Pharaoh of Egypt was not?

MAHMOUD: Correct. And Haman.

MARTY: Haman, from Purim? With the three-cornered hat?

MAHMOUD: No, no - Haman was an advisor to the wicked Pharaoh; so it is written in the Quran.[4] Any other story your Bible tells of a man named Haman is simply a lie.

MARTY (a little skeptical): So… could you tell me more about the history of Jerusalem – I mean, Al-Quds?

MAHMOUD: Certainly. Do you see that dome over there? (points) The gold one.

MARTY: Yes, is that Al-Aqsa?

MAHMOUD: No; that is the Dome of the Rock. In the year 621, Muhammad travelled from Mecca to Al-Quds in a single night, from Arabia to Palestine, riding a winged horse, Buraq. He prayed on that mountain (points) at the Al-Aqsa Mosque, the one with the silver dome, alongside all of the prophets from before him, including Ibrahim and Musa. Then Allah brought him up to heaven.

MARTY: Wow – that mosque is that old?

MAHMOUD: Not exactly, no.

MARTY: What was there, then?

MAHMOUD: We don't actually know; this was before the Muslims had influence in Palestine.

MARTY: Then I don't meant to be rude, but how could there have been a mosque on the mountain?

MAHMOUD: This is not so clear, I admit. The Quran says that Muhammad went to "the distant mosque", and believers say that this was on that mountain.

MARTY: So when did they build an Al-Aqsa Mosque?

MAHMOUD: In the year 715 that the Umayyad Muslims built a mosque there and called it "a distant mosque".[5]

MARTY: So why did they build this "distant mosque" a century after the story?

MAHMOUD: Depends who you ask. If you ask that evil man, Daniel Pipes, it was a reaction to other Muslim rulers who were promoting Arabia, with Mecca and Medina, as the centre of Islam.[6] If you ask others, it was because of competition with Christian churches in Jerusalem.[7] But Muslims know that they built it because we have a tradition that this mountain was the place where Allah brought Muhammad.

MARTY: So what happened to Muhammad there? He died?

MAHMOUD: No, he negotiated. (pause) Allah wanted to teach Muhammad that we must pray 50 times a day. Musa told Muhammad that 50 was too many, and so he went back to negotiate with Allah, and he brought it down to 5. This is why Muslims pray 5 times each day.

MARTY: I see. So that's why al-Quds is holy to Islam?

MAHMOUD: Yes – this is the gateway to Heaven.

MARTY: And so do you pray toward Al-Quds, like Jews do?

MAHMOUD: No. Well, we used to. In our first prayers, our qibla – the direction in which we prayed - was toward Al-Quds, but when the Jews rejected Islam then Allah told Muhammad to change it, to pray toward Mecca. As the Quran says, "The fools will say, 'What has turned them away from their qibla which they followed?' Say, 'To Allah belong the East and the West.'"[8]

MARTY: So which way is Mecca?

Mahmoud turns and points diametrically opposite the site of the domes.

MARTY: So you turn your back to the gateway to Heaven when you pray?

MAHMOUD: I turn where Allah tells me to. Which reminds me – it's time for me to go to prayers. Would you like to join me?

MARTY: No, thank you; I need to get back to my hotel. See you tomorrow, though.



[1] 2:124
[2] 2:133
[3] Sura 3:12
[4] Sura 28:39
[5] Note: See Sura 30:1; it is hard to think that Israel could be called "distant"
[8] Sura 2:143-148

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Reading the mind of G-d

I've heard from a few people that they enjoyed Rabbi Dr. Nathan Lopes Cardozo's recent piece, "God's New Home", in which he alleges that Gd is leaving synagogues because the people there no longer seek Him meaningfully, and that Gd prefers the company of people who aren't necessarily observing the letter of the law, but who are seeking Gd sincerely.

The author begins, "Lately, a strange feeling has gotten hold of me. I am not yet able to fully articulate it, but something tells me that God is relocating to a different residence. He has hired a moving company and they are at this time loading all His furniture and possessions into a van and awaiting His instructions as to the destination. The truth is He’s been thinking for a long time about moving but has not yet done so because we, in our ignorance, are still busy visiting His old home, completely blind to the fact that the curtains have been taken down, most of His furniture has already been removed, and He is standing in the doorway, dressed in His jacket and ready to go.  He nevertheless listens to us, smiling and feeling sorry for us that in our utter blindness we still believe we are sitting comfortably in His living room, chatting and having coffee with Him, while in fact He is sitting on the edge of His chair, gazing longingly at the door, dreaming of His new home. Synagogues – whether Orthodox, Conservative or Reform – are no longer His primary residence. Surely some of the worshippers are pious people who try to communicate with their Creator, but overall, the majority of these places have become religiously sterile and spiritually empty." And so on.

Of course this sentiment resonates with people, but frankly, I'm disappointed by the piece and feel it it unworthy of its author, for a few reasons:
1. The cynicism about Jews in synagogues strikes me as adolescent, unsophisticated; anyone who spends a few minutes speaking with people in a meaningful way quickly discovers that few hearts are so neatly monochromatic;

2. The idea that I can read Gd's mind and know whether He prefers the law or the heart is silly; it's populist and popular, but hardly reasonable. Now, can I read the mind of Judaism? Certainly, we can cite Biblical and Rabbinic sources on both sides - but why presume to take sides, and write an essay without citing a single source in support of your position? The author brings numerous sources in a footnote to support his claim that the world is not 5800 years old, which is fine with me - but why does he not bring Yirmiyah and Yeshayah or the talmudic הקב"ה ליבא בעי or anything at all to support his argument that Gd resents soulless service?

3. The article's theme is presented as new, when in fact it is ancient. The problem of soulless service was grey-bearded even when Rabbi Eliezer wrote in a mishnah, "One who makes his prayer rote - his prayer is not an acceptable plea." It is in Tanach itself; open up Yeshayah 1, for example. Why pretend to be discovering anything here, "Lately"?

There is a real problem of staleness, as there has always been a real problem of staleness, and not only in Judaism but in all religion which is formalized and passed from one generation to the next. But let's address it, let's struggle with it, let's overcome it, with substance.

Monday, April 29, 2013

Carlebach Tyranny [a rant]



The following is not a rant against Carlebach Minyanim. I dance (well, shuffle) at them. I have led them. I instituted them occasionally when I was a shul rabbi.

This is also not a rant against minyanim that run overtime, as Carlebach Minyanim do. In the name of spirituality and fervor, I am more than happy to offer up the ten or fifteen minutes of my time that these take.

This is a rant against Carlebach tunes.

When I hear recordings of R' Shlomo Carlebach singing, I hear energy and life, fervor and inspiration. All too often, though, when I hear shuls sing Kabbolas Shabbos to Carlebach tunes I hear dirges [as well as chazanim who aren't sure when to go to the high part, and minyanim that split between high and low].

I hear people singing this tune because it's the tune they are supposed to sing, not because they feel anything.
I hear some people naively trying to match the tune with the words and phrases of Tehillim, and others giving up and just going with the flow.
I hear people mumbling their way through because they have been drafted into this service unwillingly.
And I hear loads of voices not singing as well, because hearing the same tune, week after week, is anything but inspiring. [If Kol Nidrei was a weekly experience, people wouldn't find that traditional tune moving, either.]

This is not true of all shuls, of course, or of all chazanim. But it is true of enough of them that I am writing this. [It is NOT true of any chazanim I have heard in the past several weeks – I've been sitting on this post for quite a while, and it was triggered by an experience that was not in the shul I normally attend.]

So here is my recommendation, for chazanim who want to motivate their communities: Sing! Sing just the ends of the paragraphs or sing the entire paragraphs, sing solo or lead a conga line! But please, please – sing a different tune, not a Carlebach tune. Sing the lively tune you heard at a wedding. Sing something relevant to that time of year. Sing a tune you've made up yourself [but clue people in first, perhaps] – but please, please, when the urge comes upon you to impose Carlebach tyranny upon the tzibbur, ask yourself: Is this the most inspiring way I can lead my community?

Thank you.