We continue the “Tisha b’Av” gemara regarding the destruction of the Beit haMikdash and the fall of Beitar. For those who are looking for something other than Daf Yomi notes, feel free to skip down for an article on surviving the 120-year death sentence.
Gittin 56b
Titus slashes the parochet curtain before the Ark, and sees blood emerge; he believes that this shows he has done something to Gd. The Maharam Shif suggests that the blood may have been from the sprinklings of the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur, but this is problematic. As Maharam Shif notes, the sprinklings were toward the curtain rather than on it – but, also, the gemara here states explicitly that the emergenc of the blood was miraculous.
The sages observed that Gd did not act to defend the second Beit haMikdash from the Romans, and altered verses as part of a pain-driven, theodicy-based challenge to Gd's mute unresponsiveness. For a passage that goes even further, see Yerushalmi Berachot 7:3, where Yirmiyah and Daniel actually altered the way we praised Gd, eliminating some of the praises, after the destruction of the first Beit haMikdash – until the Great Assembly restored those praises. (That is a beautiful passage of gemara; I need to use that in a derashah at some point.)
The gemara refers to Sisra drowning in water; that may be a reference to his chariots becoming stuck in the mud, or to Yael’s substitution of milk for water, which led to his death.
Abbaye uses the Aramaic word נקטינן here to introduce an aggadic observation. That’s odd; נקטינן is normally used regarding legal statements.
Regarding the identity of Onkelos in the story of Onkelos and Titus and conversion to Judaism, Mahartz Chajes discusses this and notes that he is not the Onkelos who recorded an Aramaic commentary on the Torah.
Gittin 57a
It is suggested that, in this passage, either Bilam, or “the sinners of Israel” are meant to be a reference to Jesus.
Regarding the three great cities on Har haMelech, the Yerushalmi has a different take on the explanation of Kfar Shichlayim and Kfar Dichraya. See also the Maharsha here.
The gemara here calls Israel ארץ צבי, but I don’t believe such a term appears in Tanach. The citation from Yirmiyah 3:19 is actually ארץ חמדה נחלת צבי צבאות גויים. Either way, the literal meaning of צבי in context is to connote something desirable – the desirable/desired land.
Gittin 57b
The Babylonian Nevuzaradan’s decision to write a will for disposition of his assets before converting to Judaism is a rebuke to Achitofel, who betrayed Dovid, was caught, and then wrote a will disposing of his assets before strangling himself.
The issue of Jewish children – and communities – committing suicide rather than face torture and death is a large and complex topic. Tosafot קפצו here has a brief discussion, but there is much more to say. For a start:
Bava Kama 91b clearly prohibits suicide.
Bereishit Rabbah 34:13 shows that we have exceptions – Shaul, as well as Chananiah, Mishael and Azariah.
Mitigating circumstances include certain death (Radak Shemuel I 31:5) and fear of having to violate one of the sins which warrant ייהרג ואל יעבור, death before violation (Tosafot Avodah Zarah 18a).
Pain, as a mitigating factor, is hotly debated but generally rejected for active suicide – see Avodah Zarah 18a, Chatam Sofer Yoreh Deah 326:3 and Shut Beit Efrayim Yoreh Deah 76.
There is much more to say, but any discussion would be incomplete if it did not include the story cited by Ritva (I forget where) and the Beit Yosef (Yoreh Deah 157), of the rabbi who was involved in his community’s mass suicide to avoid the crusaders, and who lived to see the decree against the community annulled, so that the deaths were unnecessary. See the horrible details there.
We then encounter the well-known story of the woman and her 7 sons who refused to bow to the idol:
Note that the story does not involve anyone named Chanah; that name doesn’t appear until the 15th century or so.
See three versions – ours, the Maharsha’s and Eichah Rabbah 1:50, all of which offer different orders of pesukim recited by the seven children.
The Maharsha and the Yefeh Anaf explain why each child chose a different pasuk. The Maharsha matches each pasuk to a day of the week; Yefeh Anaf on the midrash shows that each pasuk responded to a different claim made by the Roman.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Until 120… NOT!
[This week's Haveil Havalim is here!]
עד מאה ועשרים שנה!
Bit a hundred un svuntzik (or however that should be transliterated)!
You should live to be 120!
Yes, there's even a website: till120.com.
Not for me, though, sorry.
First, I am mortophobic. Deathly so, even.
Second, because I have never seen a source for the 120 limit in mainstream Jewish tradition (I do recall seeing one edition in Bereishit Rabbah many years ago, but not since) and I have seen mainstream sources militating against it.
So far as I can tell, this concept of human life being limited to 120 years arose from a decidedly minority reading of a pasuk in chumash and a passage in the gemara, and it is entirely at odds with at least one gemara. (Aside from the significant number of people in our own day who are recorded to have passed the 120 mark...)
The first source people cite to justify this artificial endpoint is Bereishit 6:3 לא ידון רוחי באדם לעולם בשגם הוא בשר והיו ימיו מאה ועשרים שנה. Before bringing the Flood, Gd declares that there will be an end to Divine patience with man's corruption, "and his days will be 120 years."
This source seems compelling, until we realize that the Torah records all sorts of people living long past 120 years, both before and after this decree. Indeed, the Talmud Yerushalmi (Nazir 7:2) asks this question explicitly.
The Yerushalmi explains that the Torah's sentence is not referring to human lifespan, but rather to the length of time it takes flesh to reach a certain stage of decay. Avot d'Rabbi Natan (v.1 #32) offers a different answer, which Rashi cites on the Chumash, that there will be 120 years from that moment until the Flood.
Either way, though, Jewish tradition does not accept the idea that this biblical verse limits man to 120 years - and we will soon see sources which say fairly clearly that we are not limited to 120 years.
The second source people cite is regarding Moshe.
Moshe informs the Jews, as he is about to deliver his last speech on the last day of his life (Devarim 31:2), בן מאה ועשרים שנה אנכי היום, "I am 120 years old today." The sages noted Moshe's emphatic "Today," and they explained (Rosh HaShanah 11a) that this was both Moshe's birthday and the day of his death, demonstrating that Gd "completes the days and years of the righteous." (Parenthetically, this is perplexing given that the Torah says Moshe's life was foreshortened as a specific Divine punishment!)
So some take this as an indication that a complete life is 120 years - an idea which is buttressed by the gemara's statement that R' Akiva and R' Yochanan ben Zakkai both lived 120 years.
However, that is clearly not the import of this gemara; the gemara's point is that Moshe gets a full year, dying on his birthday.
In fact, the gemara indicates that even post-Tanach, we have no limit of 120 years. Megilah 28a records that on his deathbed, R' Yehoshua ben Karcha gave Rebbe a blessing: "You should live half as long as I have lived."
As Tosafot (Bava Batra 113a ומטו) notes, that isn't much of a blessing, assuming a standard lifespan for R' Yehoshua ben Karcha. Even at 100 years old, who would say, "You should live to be half my age?" Rather, Tosafot says, R' Yehoshua ben Karcha must have been at least 140 at that point.
Tosafot there is not discussing age limits; his comment is part of a separate discussion about whether R' Yehoshua ben Karcha could have been the son of R' Akiva. But without batting an eyelash, he assumes that R' Yehoshua ben Karcha lived to be at least 140. And none of the supercommentaries jump on Tosafot to demand an explanation of this anti-120 heresy.
So, to me, it seems clear that we need not limit ourselves to 120. Mind you, I've sat at enough deathbeds with people who were grateful to pass on, and I have had plenty of elderly people tell me that the old punchline, "It's better than the alternative," is not eternally true. But, for me, I'd prefer you not use עמו"ש after my name.
שליט"א will do nicely...
עד מאה ועשרים שנה!
Bit a hundred un svuntzik (or however that should be transliterated)!
You should live to be 120!
Yes, there's even a website: till120.com.
Not for me, though, sorry.
First, I am mortophobic. Deathly so, even.
Second, because I have never seen a source for the 120 limit in mainstream Jewish tradition (I do recall seeing one edition in Bereishit Rabbah many years ago, but not since) and I have seen mainstream sources militating against it.
So far as I can tell, this concept of human life being limited to 120 years arose from a decidedly minority reading of a pasuk in chumash and a passage in the gemara, and it is entirely at odds with at least one gemara. (Aside from the significant number of people in our own day who are recorded to have passed the 120 mark...)
The first source people cite to justify this artificial endpoint is Bereishit 6:3 לא ידון רוחי באדם לעולם בשגם הוא בשר והיו ימיו מאה ועשרים שנה. Before bringing the Flood, Gd declares that there will be an end to Divine patience with man's corruption, "and his days will be 120 years."
This source seems compelling, until we realize that the Torah records all sorts of people living long past 120 years, both before and after this decree. Indeed, the Talmud Yerushalmi (Nazir 7:2) asks this question explicitly.
The Yerushalmi explains that the Torah's sentence is not referring to human lifespan, but rather to the length of time it takes flesh to reach a certain stage of decay. Avot d'Rabbi Natan (v.1 #32) offers a different answer, which Rashi cites on the Chumash, that there will be 120 years from that moment until the Flood.
Either way, though, Jewish tradition does not accept the idea that this biblical verse limits man to 120 years - and we will soon see sources which say fairly clearly that we are not limited to 120 years.
The second source people cite is regarding Moshe.
Moshe informs the Jews, as he is about to deliver his last speech on the last day of his life (Devarim 31:2), בן מאה ועשרים שנה אנכי היום, "I am 120 years old today." The sages noted Moshe's emphatic "Today," and they explained (Rosh HaShanah 11a) that this was both Moshe's birthday and the day of his death, demonstrating that Gd "completes the days and years of the righteous." (Parenthetically, this is perplexing given that the Torah says Moshe's life was foreshortened as a specific Divine punishment!)
So some take this as an indication that a complete life is 120 years - an idea which is buttressed by the gemara's statement that R' Akiva and R' Yochanan ben Zakkai both lived 120 years.
However, that is clearly not the import of this gemara; the gemara's point is that Moshe gets a full year, dying on his birthday.
In fact, the gemara indicates that even post-Tanach, we have no limit of 120 years. Megilah 28a records that on his deathbed, R' Yehoshua ben Karcha gave Rebbe a blessing: "You should live half as long as I have lived."
As Tosafot (Bava Batra 113a ומטו) notes, that isn't much of a blessing, assuming a standard lifespan for R' Yehoshua ben Karcha. Even at 100 years old, who would say, "You should live to be half my age?" Rather, Tosafot says, R' Yehoshua ben Karcha must have been at least 140 at that point.
Tosafot there is not discussing age limits; his comment is part of a separate discussion about whether R' Yehoshua ben Karcha could have been the son of R' Akiva. But without batting an eyelash, he assumes that R' Yehoshua ben Karcha lived to be at least 140. And none of the supercommentaries jump on Tosafot to demand an explanation of this anti-120 heresy.
So, to me, it seems clear that we need not limit ourselves to 120. Mind you, I've sat at enough deathbeds with people who were grateful to pass on, and I have had plenty of elderly people tell me that the old punchline, "It's better than the alternative," is not eternally true. But, for me, I'd prefer you not use עמו"ש after my name.
שליט"א will do nicely...
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Rabbinic Economics (Allentown Morning Call, September 13 08)
I ran the following column in the Allentown Morning Call. It's a truncated version of a drasha I delivered in August.
Judaism demands that the community look out for the individual
Unemployment spiraled. Prices for food and fuel skyrocketed. A federal authority struggled to keep businesses and individuals afloat. And leaders arose who declared that we could solve all of our problems if only we would accept mutual responsibility, who harnessed the power of government to protect the common citizen.
It may sound like 21st century America and a modern political platform, but it’s not - the scene was actually 2200 years ago, in Judea, as Jews struggled under Roman oppression and grave economic strain. Enter the Jewish Sages, who were political as well as scholastic leaders; they took key economic steps to protect the common citizen.
According to biblical law, loans are a mechanism of charity for the needy: Lenders may not collect interest (Exodus 22:24), and so the borrowers receive capital at no cost, and the lender absorbs all of the risk. The downside is that in times when cash is tight, this charitable form of lending dries up. Therefore, the Jewish sages legislated protections for lenders - ensuring that loans would be re-paid with solid currency and simplifying the collections process - so that the flow of charitable loans for the needy would continue.
Those sages enacted consumer protections, too. When dove merchants hiked the price of Temple offerings, Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel responded to this price-gouging with a legal ruling limiting the need for those offerings - and the price plummetted. (In fact, rabbis in 17th century Moravia and 18th century Algeria imitated this action; when fish merchants raised their prices to take advantage of the Jewish community’s preference for fish at the Sabbath meal, the rabbis banned purchasing fish until the prices dropped.)
The Jewish leadership did this because they believed, based on biblical language regarding the commandment of tzedakah (charity), that Judaism requires communities, and not only individuals, to look out for people in need.
It is well known that the Bible requires individuals to look out for those in need, with instructions like “Love your neighbor” and role models like Abraham and Sarah who took in guests. But here the Bible taught a new and more robust lesson: That communities must also harness their power to help those in need. In this regard the Bible argued against the economics of Milton Friedman, who declared that a corporation owes a debt only to its funders. Jewish tradition teaches that corporations must have a selfless conscience as well, and must seek to meet the needs of society’s members.
This leads to some interesting, progressive, policy decisions. In one example, Israeli economist Dr. Meir Tamari has concluded that, “In our day this would seem to apply to the pollution of the atmosphere or water through industrial wastes.” Indeed, there is precedent for precisely this conclusion in the millenia-old Talmudic requirement that certain businesses, like threshing floors, tanneries and kilns, locate beyond city limits.
Along the same lines, Rabbi Tzvi Hirsch Weinreb, current executive vice president of the Orthodox Union, delivered the following strong reading of the biblical “Love thy neighbor” requirement in a talk at the Democratic National Convention:
Our neighbor is not merely the person who lives next door to us or across the street or even down the lane. Our neighbor may be very distant from us. Distant geographically. Our neighbor may be a victim of a tsunami halfway across the world. Our neighbors may be the suffering people of Darfur. Our neighbors may be those that are victims of the cruel war now going on in the country of Georgia… Our neighbors may be distant from us culturally. They may be different from us ideologically …
Sometimes our neighbor is poor, and then we must feed and clothe him. Sometimes our neighbor, she is ill, and then we must cure her and heal her. Sometimes our neighbor, he is bereaved, and he requires us to console and to comfort him. And sometimes our neighbor has been traumatized, and then we must render her whole… We must fashion a culture which is defined by loving kindness and by compassion.
These are not small words, this is a significant mission - and it traces back to that biblical commandment of tzedakah and the basic sense that community is responsible for more than its members.
Judaism is not inherently Republican or Democrat, but the message of biblical text and rabbinic application on this topic is clear: Living biblically means more than giving of our own wealth to aid others. It also means harnessing the power of communities to do the same.
Judaism demands that the community look out for the individual
Unemployment spiraled. Prices for food and fuel skyrocketed. A federal authority struggled to keep businesses and individuals afloat. And leaders arose who declared that we could solve all of our problems if only we would accept mutual responsibility, who harnessed the power of government to protect the common citizen.
It may sound like 21st century America and a modern political platform, but it’s not - the scene was actually 2200 years ago, in Judea, as Jews struggled under Roman oppression and grave economic strain. Enter the Jewish Sages, who were political as well as scholastic leaders; they took key economic steps to protect the common citizen.
According to biblical law, loans are a mechanism of charity for the needy: Lenders may not collect interest (Exodus 22:24), and so the borrowers receive capital at no cost, and the lender absorbs all of the risk. The downside is that in times when cash is tight, this charitable form of lending dries up. Therefore, the Jewish sages legislated protections for lenders - ensuring that loans would be re-paid with solid currency and simplifying the collections process - so that the flow of charitable loans for the needy would continue.
Those sages enacted consumer protections, too. When dove merchants hiked the price of Temple offerings, Rabbi Shimon ben Gamliel responded to this price-gouging with a legal ruling limiting the need for those offerings - and the price plummetted. (In fact, rabbis in 17th century Moravia and 18th century Algeria imitated this action; when fish merchants raised their prices to take advantage of the Jewish community’s preference for fish at the Sabbath meal, the rabbis banned purchasing fish until the prices dropped.)
The Jewish leadership did this because they believed, based on biblical language regarding the commandment of tzedakah (charity), that Judaism requires communities, and not only individuals, to look out for people in need.
It is well known that the Bible requires individuals to look out for those in need, with instructions like “Love your neighbor” and role models like Abraham and Sarah who took in guests. But here the Bible taught a new and more robust lesson: That communities must also harness their power to help those in need. In this regard the Bible argued against the economics of Milton Friedman, who declared that a corporation owes a debt only to its funders. Jewish tradition teaches that corporations must have a selfless conscience as well, and must seek to meet the needs of society’s members.
This leads to some interesting, progressive, policy decisions. In one example, Israeli economist Dr. Meir Tamari has concluded that, “In our day this would seem to apply to the pollution of the atmosphere or water through industrial wastes.” Indeed, there is precedent for precisely this conclusion in the millenia-old Talmudic requirement that certain businesses, like threshing floors, tanneries and kilns, locate beyond city limits.
Along the same lines, Rabbi Tzvi Hirsch Weinreb, current executive vice president of the Orthodox Union, delivered the following strong reading of the biblical “Love thy neighbor” requirement in a talk at the Democratic National Convention:
Our neighbor is not merely the person who lives next door to us or across the street or even down the lane. Our neighbor may be very distant from us. Distant geographically. Our neighbor may be a victim of a tsunami halfway across the world. Our neighbors may be the suffering people of Darfur. Our neighbors may be those that are victims of the cruel war now going on in the country of Georgia… Our neighbors may be distant from us culturally. They may be different from us ideologically …
Sometimes our neighbor is poor, and then we must feed and clothe him. Sometimes our neighbor, she is ill, and then we must cure her and heal her. Sometimes our neighbor, he is bereaved, and he requires us to console and to comfort him. And sometimes our neighbor has been traumatized, and then we must render her whole… We must fashion a culture which is defined by loving kindness and by compassion.
These are not small words, this is a significant mission - and it traces back to that biblical commandment of tzedakah and the basic sense that community is responsible for more than its members.
Judaism is not inherently Republican or Democrat, but the message of biblical text and rabbinic application on this topic is clear: Living biblically means more than giving of our own wealth to aid others. It also means harnessing the power of communities to do the same.
The calming effect of a cheshbon hanefesh [self-accounting]
I have been in a lot of turmoil over the past couple of weeks.
Part of that turmoil came from anticipating today’s date – the third yahrtzeit of a beloved friend. It doesn’t help that the calendar is the same this year, as it was when he was killed in a car crash three years ago. It was a Shabbos, the Shabbos before Selichos, just like today. I walked past his house today. I remember every detail like it was happening right now. I’ve been dreading this day for weeks.
And part came from the doings of my own foolishness. I am exposed to lashon hara all the time, listening to people’s complaints about other people and about institutions and telling myself that I can’t accept these words at face value – and I’m usually pretty good at it. But this week I listened to someone and it sank in as Truth, and the result in my own actions was very ugly. It will take quite a bit of time and effort to get past this political mess.
And part of the turmoil, of course, came from this being Elul, and from working on speeches and classes, etc, as we have discussed, and from going without sleep in order to get all of that done.
And part came from anticipating tonight’s job of doing a cheshbon hanefesh, accounting for my mistakes of the past year and of past years, apologizing and repenting and trying to figure out how to move on from there.
Well, tonight, while waiting for chatzot [halachic midnight] and Selichot, I wrote up my accounting… and the surprising result was a real feeling of calm, my first in a while.
I looked at my list from last year, and – as always – had very, very little to remove. And I had a couple of items to add. So the calm doesn’t come from any sense that I’ve done better than in the past.
It doesn’t come from feeling, “I haven’t gotten much worse,” either.
For the most part, it just comes from feeling much more under control, much more like I know what I am doing, what I still have to do. I feel like I understand where I have messed up, and what I can do about it.
I still have to work on my list of תקנות for this year, things I plan to do differently, to reduce my problems and flaws. That will come over the next few days, I hope.
And then, Gd-willing, the וידוי (personal admission of sin) and, we hope and pray, an inscription and sealing for a good year.
Part of that turmoil came from anticipating today’s date – the third yahrtzeit of a beloved friend. It doesn’t help that the calendar is the same this year, as it was when he was killed in a car crash three years ago. It was a Shabbos, the Shabbos before Selichos, just like today. I walked past his house today. I remember every detail like it was happening right now. I’ve been dreading this day for weeks.
And part came from the doings of my own foolishness. I am exposed to lashon hara all the time, listening to people’s complaints about other people and about institutions and telling myself that I can’t accept these words at face value – and I’m usually pretty good at it. But this week I listened to someone and it sank in as Truth, and the result in my own actions was very ugly. It will take quite a bit of time and effort to get past this political mess.
And part of the turmoil, of course, came from this being Elul, and from working on speeches and classes, etc, as we have discussed, and from going without sleep in order to get all of that done.
And part came from anticipating tonight’s job of doing a cheshbon hanefesh, accounting for my mistakes of the past year and of past years, apologizing and repenting and trying to figure out how to move on from there.
Well, tonight, while waiting for chatzot [halachic midnight] and Selichot, I wrote up my accounting… and the surprising result was a real feeling of calm, my first in a while.
I looked at my list from last year, and – as always – had very, very little to remove. And I had a couple of items to add. So the calm doesn’t come from any sense that I’ve done better than in the past.
It doesn’t come from feeling, “I haven’t gotten much worse,” either.
For the most part, it just comes from feeling much more under control, much more like I know what I am doing, what I still have to do. I feel like I understand where I have messed up, and what I can do about it.
I still have to work on my list of תקנות for this year, things I plan to do differently, to reduce my problems and flaws. That will come over the next few days, I hope.
And then, Gd-willing, the וידוי (personal admission of sin) and, we hope and pray, an inscription and sealing for a good year.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Daf: Gittin 55a-56a - Feeding a child treif, suspect kiddush HaShem, Bar Kamtza's story
Still catching up, but I have tons of notes on 56-58… For those who aren't into this, feel free to jump down and see my comments on the Agunah crisis and on the rabbinic role in End of Life situations.
Gittin 55a
The gemara asks why a cheresh (deaf and mute person whose intelligence cannot be ascertained and who cannot be educated) could not eat terumah; after all, she would be like a child, who is not obligated in mitzvot, and may therefore eat non-kosher food.
Note that this permits a child to eat non-kosher food, but it does not permit us to give him non-kosher food to eat – and the same would be true for a cheresh. Therefore, one need not stop a minor or a mentally challenged person from eating non-kosher, but one may not actively give that person non-kosher food to eat. See the comments of Aruch haShulchan Orach Chaim 266:15-16.
The ban against giving a cheresh terumah d’rabbanan lest he give a chereshet terumah d’orayta must be a case of חדא גזירה היא.
The gemara says that the sages decreed that a stolen sin offering would be valid, lest kohanim be upset that they had been fooled into bringing an invalid, stolen offering. But how can the sages make an offering acceptable?! I presume this is a case of hefker beit din, the sages removing the item from its owner, as we have discussed in other cases.
Gittin 55b
Note Tosafot שלא.
The gemara here presents a decree against using stolen offerings, lest people say that the altar consumes stolen goods. It is not clear to me why this should be a concern – if the practice is truly legal, then what kind of kiddush HaShem is there in altering that law?!
Here we arrive at the famous “Tisha b’Av” gemara, so named because it deals with the destruction of the two Batei Mikdash [Jerusalem Temples] and the destruction of Beitar, so that one is permitted to learn this mournful segment on Tisha b’Av, even when the normal joy of learning Torah is prohibited.
I don’t have the time to transcribe all of my notes on this gemara, but I’ll include some ‘highlights’.
See Tosafot אשרי.
Gittin 56a
Note that the anonymous host of the party invites his guests via a servant, but he kicks out the guests with his own two hands. As we see regarding Bilam’s saddling of his donkey, השנאה מקלקלת את השורה, Hatred corrupts the normal order of things.
The “third calf” is supposed to be especially fine. See Tosafot for a beginning of some of the views on the definition of “עגלא תילתא – third calf.”
On the blemish to the animal’s mouth or eye, see the Maharsha’s comment on what Bar Kamtza was trying to say by creating these types of blemishes.
I was horrified, some years ago, to hear a well-respected rav and rosh yeshiva speak on the story of Bar Kamtza and arrive at the statement that the Beit haMikdash was destroyed because of ענוותנותו של ר' זכריה בן אבקולוס, the humility and patience of R’ Zecharyah ben Avkulus, and give a bizarre, original reading in an attempt to explain how this word might apply to R’ Zecharyah’s rejection of killing Bar Kamtza and rejection of bringing the korban. This is what happens when we refuse to read alternative editions. The midrash in Eichah Rabbah has this story, but adds one detail which makes everything clear: R’ Zecharyah ben Avkulus was at the party at which Bar Kamtza was humililiated, and he did not protest, feeling he was not worthy. This perfect fits ענוותנותו as it is used here and elsewhere, and no creative twisting is necessary.
The Nero mentioned here was not Emperor Nero, but rather a general by that name. See the Maharam Shif.
Nero’s refusal of his mission to destroy Jerusalem is important – it matches the Rambam’s point regarding Nevuchadnezzar and Free Will, that even if Gd wants something bad to happen, you don’t have to be the one to do it.
The gemara’s mention of “hungry as a dog” here is interesting; in the interest of clean language, we usually prefer to say “as a goat,” per Pesachim 3b.
Marta bat Baytus is not an actual name. “Marta” is a Matron, the feminine of Mar. Baytus (Boethus) was a wealthy family.
Maharsha notes the parallel between the 4 types of flour and the 4 flour offerings of the Beit haMikdash.
Marta and her servant both don’t think ahead, to realize that soon everything will be gone from the market. This reflects the general feeling of Jews of that time, that things couldn’t get any worse and that Gd would save them. Rav Y. D. Soloveitchik used to make this point on the kinah of שבת סורו, that, per Yirmiyah himself, the Jews always believed that HaShem would save them.
The reference to Abba Sikra as head of the Zealots is interesting; there were Sicarii zealots around, per the historians, known by that name because it was the title for the dagger they used. This also fits the Aramaic of סיקרא – Sikra for the color red (as in חוט הסיקרא and a red ink called סיקרא).
Gittin 55a
The gemara asks why a cheresh (deaf and mute person whose intelligence cannot be ascertained and who cannot be educated) could not eat terumah; after all, she would be like a child, who is not obligated in mitzvot, and may therefore eat non-kosher food.
Note that this permits a child to eat non-kosher food, but it does not permit us to give him non-kosher food to eat – and the same would be true for a cheresh. Therefore, one need not stop a minor or a mentally challenged person from eating non-kosher, but one may not actively give that person non-kosher food to eat. See the comments of Aruch haShulchan Orach Chaim 266:15-16.
The ban against giving a cheresh terumah d’rabbanan lest he give a chereshet terumah d’orayta must be a case of חדא גזירה היא.
The gemara says that the sages decreed that a stolen sin offering would be valid, lest kohanim be upset that they had been fooled into bringing an invalid, stolen offering. But how can the sages make an offering acceptable?! I presume this is a case of hefker beit din, the sages removing the item from its owner, as we have discussed in other cases.
Gittin 55b
Note Tosafot שלא.
The gemara here presents a decree against using stolen offerings, lest people say that the altar consumes stolen goods. It is not clear to me why this should be a concern – if the practice is truly legal, then what kind of kiddush HaShem is there in altering that law?!
Here we arrive at the famous “Tisha b’Av” gemara, so named because it deals with the destruction of the two Batei Mikdash [Jerusalem Temples] and the destruction of Beitar, so that one is permitted to learn this mournful segment on Tisha b’Av, even when the normal joy of learning Torah is prohibited.
I don’t have the time to transcribe all of my notes on this gemara, but I’ll include some ‘highlights’.
See Tosafot אשרי.
Gittin 56a
Note that the anonymous host of the party invites his guests via a servant, but he kicks out the guests with his own two hands. As we see regarding Bilam’s saddling of his donkey, השנאה מקלקלת את השורה, Hatred corrupts the normal order of things.
The “third calf” is supposed to be especially fine. See Tosafot for a beginning of some of the views on the definition of “עגלא תילתא – third calf.”
On the blemish to the animal’s mouth or eye, see the Maharsha’s comment on what Bar Kamtza was trying to say by creating these types of blemishes.
I was horrified, some years ago, to hear a well-respected rav and rosh yeshiva speak on the story of Bar Kamtza and arrive at the statement that the Beit haMikdash was destroyed because of ענוותנותו של ר' זכריה בן אבקולוס, the humility and patience of R’ Zecharyah ben Avkulus, and give a bizarre, original reading in an attempt to explain how this word might apply to R’ Zecharyah’s rejection of killing Bar Kamtza and rejection of bringing the korban. This is what happens when we refuse to read alternative editions. The midrash in Eichah Rabbah has this story, but adds one detail which makes everything clear: R’ Zecharyah ben Avkulus was at the party at which Bar Kamtza was humililiated, and he did not protest, feeling he was not worthy. This perfect fits ענוותנותו as it is used here and elsewhere, and no creative twisting is necessary.
The Nero mentioned here was not Emperor Nero, but rather a general by that name. See the Maharam Shif.
Nero’s refusal of his mission to destroy Jerusalem is important – it matches the Rambam’s point regarding Nevuchadnezzar and Free Will, that even if Gd wants something bad to happen, you don’t have to be the one to do it.
The gemara’s mention of “hungry as a dog” here is interesting; in the interest of clean language, we usually prefer to say “as a goat,” per Pesachim 3b.
Marta bat Baytus is not an actual name. “Marta” is a Matron, the feminine of Mar. Baytus (Boethus) was a wealthy family.
Maharsha notes the parallel between the 4 types of flour and the 4 flour offerings of the Beit haMikdash.
Marta and her servant both don’t think ahead, to realize that soon everything will be gone from the market. This reflects the general feeling of Jews of that time, that things couldn’t get any worse and that Gd would save them. Rav Y. D. Soloveitchik used to make this point on the kinah of שבת סורו, that, per Yirmiyah himself, the Jews always believed that HaShem would save them.
The reference to Abba Sikra as head of the Zealots is interesting; there were Sicarii zealots around, per the historians, known by that name because it was the title for the dagger they used. This also fits the Aramaic of סיקרא – Sikra for the color red (as in חוט הסיקרא and a red ink called סיקרא).
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The Agunah Crisis: The role of the creative community rabbi
A couple of weeks ago, A Living Nadneyda posted the following comment on my post about Noachide weddings:
Several modern dilemmas of halacha have been waiting eons for creativity to help us save our own society (I am thinking especially of msuravot get). The same level of creativity called upon to unite the Noachides, could be harvested to disband a suffering union.
ALN’s words made me realize that there is a disconnect between the experience of many community rabbis and the perception of the broader Jewish community, regarding the issue of msuravei get (people whose spouses refuse to cooperate with divorce) and agunot (women whose husbands have disappeared).
To put it simply: Community rabbis see the many, many cases in which they successfully arrange for gittin or otherwise free spouses, despite very difficult circumstances. The public, though, only sees the headline cases, in which the rabbis fail.
Clearly, even one case of a woman – or man – who is unable to be divorced is too many. We can never be satisfied with our successes. However, I wish people knew how much sweat and creativity our community rabbis do currently put into enabling gittin, and how successful many of us are in doing so.
I am glad to say that I have not had more than 20-25 divorce cases in my career thusfar, but some of those have been doozies:
I have had cases in which a wife has adamantly refused to receive a Get, in order to hurt her husband or in order to get a better financial settlement. I never want to go the heter meah rabbonim route, so I have had to find ways to make the wife comfortable with receiving a Get.
I have had cases of husbands who have refused to give a Get. It’s usually a financial issue, but there are ways to deal with that – most often by holding the petur (document licensing re-marriage) in escrow until the financial package works out in the civil courts, or by using social pressure. I have also raised money to make the Get possible.
In one memorable case I called the stubborn husband’s 80-year-old mother in Israel at 2 AM her time, to let her know what her son was doing. Fifteen minutes later he was on the phone with me, agreeing to give the Get.
For the more recalcitrant cases, and for cases of agunah where the husband was incompetent to present a get, legitimate halachic authorities use other approaches, including finding reasons to disqualify the original marriage.
My experience is not unique; I know there are many rabbis in my shoes across the United States (I ma not as familiar with the international scene), doing the same things I am doing, every day.
There will always be people who will argue that rabbis possess, and should use, the power to change the rules altogether. Feel free to tell me that rabbis aren’t using the legislative authority assigned to us by the Torah; I disagree, but I know what you mean. But do realize that we are trying hard, within the parameters we understand to be the halachah, to set the agunot and mesuravot get free.
And please, please, use the halachic pre-nuptial agreement endorsed by the Rabbinical Council of America. It’s quick and easy, and if everyone would use it, it would save lives.
Several modern dilemmas of halacha have been waiting eons for creativity to help us save our own society (I am thinking especially of msuravot get). The same level of creativity called upon to unite the Noachides, could be harvested to disband a suffering union.
ALN’s words made me realize that there is a disconnect between the experience of many community rabbis and the perception of the broader Jewish community, regarding the issue of msuravei get (people whose spouses refuse to cooperate with divorce) and agunot (women whose husbands have disappeared).
To put it simply: Community rabbis see the many, many cases in which they successfully arrange for gittin or otherwise free spouses, despite very difficult circumstances. The public, though, only sees the headline cases, in which the rabbis fail.
Clearly, even one case of a woman – or man – who is unable to be divorced is too many. We can never be satisfied with our successes. However, I wish people knew how much sweat and creativity our community rabbis do currently put into enabling gittin, and how successful many of us are in doing so.
I am glad to say that I have not had more than 20-25 divorce cases in my career thusfar, but some of those have been doozies:
I have had cases in which a wife has adamantly refused to receive a Get, in order to hurt her husband or in order to get a better financial settlement. I never want to go the heter meah rabbonim route, so I have had to find ways to make the wife comfortable with receiving a Get.
I have had cases of husbands who have refused to give a Get. It’s usually a financial issue, but there are ways to deal with that – most often by holding the petur (document licensing re-marriage) in escrow until the financial package works out in the civil courts, or by using social pressure. I have also raised money to make the Get possible.
In one memorable case I called the stubborn husband’s 80-year-old mother in Israel at 2 AM her time, to let her know what her son was doing. Fifteen minutes later he was on the phone with me, agreeing to give the Get.
For the more recalcitrant cases, and for cases of agunah where the husband was incompetent to present a get, legitimate halachic authorities use other approaches, including finding reasons to disqualify the original marriage.
My experience is not unique; I know there are many rabbis in my shoes across the United States (I ma not as familiar with the international scene), doing the same things I am doing, every day.
There will always be people who will argue that rabbis possess, and should use, the power to change the rules altogether. Feel free to tell me that rabbis aren’t using the legislative authority assigned to us by the Torah; I disagree, but I know what you mean. But do realize that we are trying hard, within the parameters we understand to be the halachah, to set the agunot and mesuravot get free.
And please, please, use the halachic pre-nuptial agreement endorsed by the Rabbinical Council of America. It’s quick and easy, and if everyone would use it, it would save lives.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
“End of Life” issues and Rabbinic Insecurity
Chana at Curious Jew has done a great job here providing a sense of the September 14th “End of Life” medical ethics conference held by Yeshiva University/Center for the Jewish Future. I wanted to attend but could not make it, so I’m glad to have this summary until any audio recordings are disseminated on-line.
I was particularly interested in Dr. Beth Popp’s comments about why families, synagogue rabbis (as opposed to major halachic authorities) and physicians rarely communicate about these issues. My own experience has matched her observations, although I would add this:
A lot of it comes down to the rabbi’s own insecurity, which leads him not to volunteer counsel, both before the fact and in the heat of the moment.
*Rabbis often feel unequipped to answer these major questions, and are reluctant to put themselves in this tough situation unasked.
The best solution for this, in my experience, is for the rabbi to attach himself to a major authority, to whom he can ask any question. I have been blessed with the opportunity to do this with a doctor/posek considered by many to be the last word on these issues. He has been wonderful; he is in Israel, but he answers emails within hours, with clear and detailed responses. His medical knowledge is so complete that he can tell me what I am describing and add in further medical information, correct information I have been given, and predict what will happen and what the next question will be, etc. And always with the utmost patience and respect. A true gadol.
*Rabbis often fear that families will not be receptive to their advice, and do not want to set up an opposition with them.
Many rabbis – hopefully most of us – enter this field to help people. We don’t want to create conflict, particularly with people who are experiencing the pain of losing a spouse, a child, a parent, a friend.
Rabbis are particularly fearful of volunteering counsel when they are not confident that their advice is accurate – which brings me back to point #1 above.
*Rabbis sometimes encounter physicians who appear unreceptive to rabbinic involvement, and that preys on the rabbi’s own insecurity.
Clergy in hospitals, including professional chaplains, often feel that they are second-class citizens in the hospital atmosphere. Eleven years ago I sat at a clergy conference in a Veterans Hospital in Rhode Island and heard Father Crowley speak on precisely this point; many physicians don’t respect the role of spiritual inspiration for patients, let alone the guidance of religious law.
In truth, sometimes the perception of physician resistance is only projection, but sometimes it’s a reality. I have faced physicians who have actually lied to families in order to convince them to “pull the plug.” I’m not talking about oversimplifying medical facts; I’m talking about outright falsehood, as in, “We need this bed for a patient in the ER,” when such was not the case.
All of these problems can and must be solved as rabbis do the research, gain experience, and consult with leading authorities. Gd-willing more rabbis will learn about this in-depth and develop the expertise needed.
Saying שב ואל תעשה, to say nothing rather than risk error, is inappropriate; a rabbi should never pasken when he doesn’t know, but it’s equally criminal to withhold psak when he does know.
[This week's Haveil Havalim is here.]
I was particularly interested in Dr. Beth Popp’s comments about why families, synagogue rabbis (as opposed to major halachic authorities) and physicians rarely communicate about these issues. My own experience has matched her observations, although I would add this:
A lot of it comes down to the rabbi’s own insecurity, which leads him not to volunteer counsel, both before the fact and in the heat of the moment.
*Rabbis often feel unequipped to answer these major questions, and are reluctant to put themselves in this tough situation unasked.
The best solution for this, in my experience, is for the rabbi to attach himself to a major authority, to whom he can ask any question. I have been blessed with the opportunity to do this with a doctor/posek considered by many to be the last word on these issues. He has been wonderful; he is in Israel, but he answers emails within hours, with clear and detailed responses. His medical knowledge is so complete that he can tell me what I am describing and add in further medical information, correct information I have been given, and predict what will happen and what the next question will be, etc. And always with the utmost patience and respect. A true gadol.
*Rabbis often fear that families will not be receptive to their advice, and do not want to set up an opposition with them.
Many rabbis – hopefully most of us – enter this field to help people. We don’t want to create conflict, particularly with people who are experiencing the pain of losing a spouse, a child, a parent, a friend.
Rabbis are particularly fearful of volunteering counsel when they are not confident that their advice is accurate – which brings me back to point #1 above.
*Rabbis sometimes encounter physicians who appear unreceptive to rabbinic involvement, and that preys on the rabbi’s own insecurity.
Clergy in hospitals, including professional chaplains, often feel that they are second-class citizens in the hospital atmosphere. Eleven years ago I sat at a clergy conference in a Veterans Hospital in Rhode Island and heard Father Crowley speak on precisely this point; many physicians don’t respect the role of spiritual inspiration for patients, let alone the guidance of religious law.
In truth, sometimes the perception of physician resistance is only projection, but sometimes it’s a reality. I have faced physicians who have actually lied to families in order to convince them to “pull the plug.” I’m not talking about oversimplifying medical facts; I’m talking about outright falsehood, as in, “We need this bed for a patient in the ER,” when such was not the case.
All of these problems can and must be solved as rabbis do the research, gain experience, and consult with leading authorities. Gd-willing more rabbis will learn about this in-depth and develop the expertise needed.
Saying שב ואל תעשה, to say nothing rather than risk error, is inappropriate; a rabbi should never pasken when he doesn’t know, but it’s equally criminal to withhold psak when he does know.
[This week's Haveil Havalim is here.]
Friday, September 12, 2008
Positive Parenting through Tzimtzum (Derashah Ki Tetze 5768)
(This is, I think, the longest derashah I have ever delivered on a 'normal' Shabbos, but the topic is very much on my mind and heart. The advice I present here is probably obvious to everyone, but, speaking for myself, I am so not living up to it... yet.)
As a general rule, I would not recommend looking at the Torah for Parenting models; the Torah presents many examples of dysfunctional families, and very little guidance in terms of what parents can do right. Kayin and Hevel, Yitzchak and Yishmael, Yaakov and Esav, Yosef and his brothers - this is not the place to look for advice on raising kids.
But at the start of Parshat Ki Teitzei, in the controversial law of בן סורר ומורה (ben sorer umoreh), the rebellious 12-year-old who is put to death, the Torah teaches us a very important lesson in how to raise a family.
I am not the first to say this; Rav Shlomo Eliezer Eidels, in his 16th century commentary to the gemara, argued that the whole point of the בן סורר ומורה segment is to teach us about parenting.
The gemara noted that because of legal nuances, the בן סורר ומורה is physically impossible; it has never happened and it cannot happen. It is recorded in the Torah for us to learn it and thereby receive reward. This promised reward, says Rav Eidels, is the fruit we will receive when we follow the lead of the story of the בן סורר ומורה.
Rav Eidels viewed Jewish parents in his day, the late 16th century, as grossly irresponsible. He wrote, “בזמן הזה אין נותנין לב לזה, וכל אחד מחפה על בנו אף שהוא באמת חייב מלקות ומיתת ב"ד, ואין מוכיחין אותן, והנערים הולכים רוב ימיהן בביטול תלמוד תורה…” “In our day, no one pays attention to [their children’s wild behavior], and each one covers up for his son even though he is liable for lashes and capital punishment. No one rebukes them, and the kids go most of their days without learning Torah.”
So Rav Eidels contended that the purpose of recording the law of בן סורר ומורה in the Torah was to teach Jewish parents to scold their children. In Rav Eidels’s own words: ע"י זה יוכיחו וייסרו את בניהם, when parents read this section and see what can happen, they will be inspired to rebuke their children.
I agree that this law presents parenting advice - but, במחילת כבוד תורתו וגדולתו, to me, the message is precisely the opposite of what he intended. It does not teach parents to rebuke their children; rather, it teaches parents that, often, the best approach is more sophisticated.
My proof is in the law ofבן סורר ומורה itself. This child who is off the rails, who is such a danger to society that he must be put away, is not unrebuked, he is not the product of parents who fail to teach him. As the Torah itself says, ויסרו אותו ולא ישמע אליהם, his parents rebuke him and he fails to listen. The parents report, איננו שומע בקולנו, He won’t listen to us! And the beit din whips him for a warning, and he continues to sin anyway.
The message of בן סורר ומורה is not, “Go rebuke!” Rather, the message is that although sparing the rod may spoil the child, using that rod can do a fair bit of damage, too!
Let’s look more closely at the בן סורר ומורה, and understand the nature of this child’s problem, and then we’ll understand what the Torah is teaching us.
The בן סורר ומורה is, essentially, an addict. He loves meat and wine - but, stresses the gemara, he doesn’t eat especially fine meat, he doesn’t drink especially fine wine. He isn’t a gourmet; he’s stuffing his face with whatever he can find.
The בן סורר ומורה steals in order to feed his habit. The gemara stresses that he steals from his parents, because that’s a money supply that’s always around, and so he is able to develop the addiction.
And eventually, according to the gemara, he will kill in order to be able to feed this addiction.
בן סורר ומורה is a lesson in immunizing our children to addiction.
Rabbi Dr. Avraham Twerski is a world leader in addictions treatment and founder of at least two drug rehabilitation centers, and he points out in many of his books that addiction often comes from a search for happiness, or, at least, a desire to escape unhappiness. The addict is not happy with himself, he’s not happy being himself, and so he seeks an escape. Our בן סורר ומורה finds a way to lose himself in gluttony and alcohol, and he becomes so dependent upon them for escape that he will do anything to get them.
Others have other addictions. Look at Paroh in Tanach, and his addiction to power and control. There are people who are perennially convinced that their next relationship will be the one to bring them happiness. Look at people who spend on the newest fashion, car, extension for their home, whatever, seeking that which will end the misery that is their current life and bring them lasting joy.
With בן סורר ומורה, the Torah tells us that we can’t tell these addicts to snap out of it. We can’t yell at a child for pursuing pleasure, and expect that he will suddenly become happy with his lot. When it comes to protecting our children from addiction, “Just say no” is of limited use.
Some parents try another tack: Rather than fight it, they try to provide the happiness that their children seek. Disneyworld, the latest toys and fashions, school and camp wherever the kids want to go... This is the anti-בן סורר ומורה - but, as we all know both instinctively and empirically, this doesn’t work, either.
King David had a son named Adoniyahu, and Tanach tells us that he refused to rebuke Adoniyahu, he never saddened this son of his. So Adoniyahu, accustomed to getting his way, launched a coup to take the throne. And when he was defeated, and his life was spared, he tried again!
You can give a child every object in the world, every experience imaginable, but that will not give a child happiness.
Rather, to quote Rabbi Dr. Twerski from his wonderful book, “Positive Parenting,” the job of a parent is to provide a child with the skills for achieving happiness on his own. When children grow up to become adults who can make themselves happy, then they don’t need to pursue food or alcohol or drugs or power or acquisitions - they are happy on their own.
Parents can do this, parents can provide these tools for their children, if they embrace a mystical concept called צמצום (Tzimtzum). צמצום means withdrawal. In mysticism, it refers to the way that Gd creates the universe and embraces all of it, but simultaneously withdraws immanent control and permits us freedom of choice.
In the parenting world, צמצום means that we step back, that we are careful not to overshadow our children, that rather than rebuke harshly, we show our children respect as individuals and we help them learn to make themselves happy.
*צמצום means that when a child breaks a rule, we don’t take it personally and demand an apology for having broken our rule. An apology may be appropriate - but it should never be about our parental egos. צמצום - our egos are not present at all.
*צמצום means that we don’t put ourselves out there as stars; we don’t excel in front of them in a way that will intimidate them. If I think my daughter might be insecure about how fast she can run, I don’t show her how fast I can run. If I think my son might be insecure about his reading skills, I don’t comment in front of him about how many books I have read. צמצום - we remain in the background, rather than make ourselves the focus.
*צמצום means that we don’t solve problems for our children to make them happy; rather, we help them figure out how to solve problems and make themselves happy. Rabbi Dr. Twerski tells the fictional story of a child, Notti, who comes home from school and complains about a teacher. Notti had answered a question in class, and the teacher had said it was the dumbest answer he had ever heard in his entire life. Of course, what the teacher did was grossly inappropriate, and the parent can talk to the principal - but telling Notti that he’s going to intervene is the opposite of צמצום; the parent is now solving the problem, instead of teaching Notti to do it. As Rabbi Dr. Twerski asks, “Are Notti’s parents going to intervene 20 years later when Notti’s supervisor at work mistreats him?” Rather, Notti’s father could say, “Boy, you sure got yourself a humdinger of a teacher this year.” Then the father and son can talk about tough teachers, and Notti can come to the confident conclusion, on his own, that he can withstand the ineptitude of a poor teacher. This is צמצום - stepping back and allowing the child to be the one to solve the problem.
Of course, צמצום does not mean that the parent is absent. Absentee parenting is criminal negligence. צמצום is the art of being home, being present, being involved, and yet removing one’s ego, not being the overshadowing star, and helping our children gain self-confidence and learn to solve their own problems.
I should note that this concept of צמצום is important not only for parenting, but also for the way we interact with each other. True, we aren’t each others’ parents - but the more we employ צמצום, avoiding overshadowing others, avoiding taking control of situations, the more we can help others to shine.
Rabbi Dr. Twerski never uses the term צמצום in his book; that’s just my own watchword. Nonetheless, the message of צמצום is there throughout his book. I’ll close with one story, which I believe encapsulates the message perfectly.
When Rabbi Dr. Twerski was a child, one Rosh haShanah, his family hosted a visiting rabbi. On Rosh haShanah afternoon the rabbi invited him to play chess. Young Avraham Twerski thought this was inappropriate for the day, but the rabbi assured him it would be fine. They played two games.
Later that day, Rabbi Dr. Twerski’s father called him into his study. Here is the rest of the story, as he tells it in his book:
When I entered his study, he was engrossed in a sefer, and I stood by respectfully silent, awaiting his recognition. After a few moments he looked up and said softly, “You played chess on Yom Tov?”
“Yes,” I said. “Rabbi C. said it was allowed.”
My father said nothing. He returned his gaze to the sefer, and slowly, barely perceptibly, shook his head in the negative. The message was clear: Even if technically not forbidden, it was not in the spirit of Rosh haShanah to play games. I felt terrible. I had desecrated the holy day.
I remained standing respectfully, waiting to be dismissed, digesting the reprimand I had received. Then my father looked up, with a twinkle in his eye, and said, “But you did checkmate him, didn’t you?”
“Twice,” I said, softly but happily.
My father returned to his sefer, and after a few moments smiled. “Geh gezunterheit.”
There was none of the ויסרו אותו rebuke of the בן סורר ומורה. There were no lashes, there was no courtroom drama, no apologies were demanded. The father said as much as he needed to say, and then, in an act of צמצום, he withdrew himself and his disapproval from the scene and allowed his son to re-establish his self-esteem.
Regarding this story, and the overall lesson of צמצום, I echo the words of the gemara and Rav Shlomo Eidels for all parents: דרוש וקבל שכר, Learn it, and you will receive reward.
-
Notes:
1. The comment from Rav Shlomo Eidels is in Maharsha, Chiddushei Aggadot to Sanhedrin 71a. The Hebrew I quote from Maharsha is what I believe to be the correct text. The one printed in the Vilna shas has מכפה instead of מחפה, but is clearly a mistake by a sofer thinking of יכפה אף.
2. Many are bothered by the point I raise, that the parents of the בן סורר ומורה did, in fact, rebuke him. This leads them to analyze the Torah's text and find hints at why their rebuke was inadequate - such as the idea that the parents did not rebuke with the same voice.
3. "Just say no" is an incomplete approach. In his book, Positive Parenting (pg 307), Rabbi Dr. Twerski points out that in the early days of the “Just say no” campaign, research psychologists looked at kids’ responses to this approach, and were surprised to find 13 and 14 year-old kids responding, “Why? What else is there?”
4. The fictional story of Notti is on pages 65-66 in Positive Parenting; the chess story is on page 236.
As a general rule, I would not recommend looking at the Torah for Parenting models; the Torah presents many examples of dysfunctional families, and very little guidance in terms of what parents can do right. Kayin and Hevel, Yitzchak and Yishmael, Yaakov and Esav, Yosef and his brothers - this is not the place to look for advice on raising kids.
But at the start of Parshat Ki Teitzei, in the controversial law of בן סורר ומורה (ben sorer umoreh), the rebellious 12-year-old who is put to death, the Torah teaches us a very important lesson in how to raise a family.
I am not the first to say this; Rav Shlomo Eliezer Eidels, in his 16th century commentary to the gemara, argued that the whole point of the בן סורר ומורה segment is to teach us about parenting.
The gemara noted that because of legal nuances, the בן סורר ומורה is physically impossible; it has never happened and it cannot happen. It is recorded in the Torah for us to learn it and thereby receive reward. This promised reward, says Rav Eidels, is the fruit we will receive when we follow the lead of the story of the בן סורר ומורה.
Rav Eidels viewed Jewish parents in his day, the late 16th century, as grossly irresponsible. He wrote, “בזמן הזה אין נותנין לב לזה, וכל אחד מחפה על בנו אף שהוא באמת חייב מלקות ומיתת ב"ד, ואין מוכיחין אותן, והנערים הולכים רוב ימיהן בביטול תלמוד תורה…” “In our day, no one pays attention to [their children’s wild behavior], and each one covers up for his son even though he is liable for lashes and capital punishment. No one rebukes them, and the kids go most of their days without learning Torah.”
So Rav Eidels contended that the purpose of recording the law of בן סורר ומורה in the Torah was to teach Jewish parents to scold their children. In Rav Eidels’s own words: ע"י זה יוכיחו וייסרו את בניהם, when parents read this section and see what can happen, they will be inspired to rebuke their children.
I agree that this law presents parenting advice - but, במחילת כבוד תורתו וגדולתו, to me, the message is precisely the opposite of what he intended. It does not teach parents to rebuke their children; rather, it teaches parents that, often, the best approach is more sophisticated.
My proof is in the law ofבן סורר ומורה itself. This child who is off the rails, who is such a danger to society that he must be put away, is not unrebuked, he is not the product of parents who fail to teach him. As the Torah itself says, ויסרו אותו ולא ישמע אליהם, his parents rebuke him and he fails to listen. The parents report, איננו שומע בקולנו, He won’t listen to us! And the beit din whips him for a warning, and he continues to sin anyway.
The message of בן סורר ומורה is not, “Go rebuke!” Rather, the message is that although sparing the rod may spoil the child, using that rod can do a fair bit of damage, too!
Let’s look more closely at the בן סורר ומורה, and understand the nature of this child’s problem, and then we’ll understand what the Torah is teaching us.
The בן סורר ומורה is, essentially, an addict. He loves meat and wine - but, stresses the gemara, he doesn’t eat especially fine meat, he doesn’t drink especially fine wine. He isn’t a gourmet; he’s stuffing his face with whatever he can find.
The בן סורר ומורה steals in order to feed his habit. The gemara stresses that he steals from his parents, because that’s a money supply that’s always around, and so he is able to develop the addiction.
And eventually, according to the gemara, he will kill in order to be able to feed this addiction.
בן סורר ומורה is a lesson in immunizing our children to addiction.
Rabbi Dr. Avraham Twerski is a world leader in addictions treatment and founder of at least two drug rehabilitation centers, and he points out in many of his books that addiction often comes from a search for happiness, or, at least, a desire to escape unhappiness. The addict is not happy with himself, he’s not happy being himself, and so he seeks an escape. Our בן סורר ומורה finds a way to lose himself in gluttony and alcohol, and he becomes so dependent upon them for escape that he will do anything to get them.
Others have other addictions. Look at Paroh in Tanach, and his addiction to power and control. There are people who are perennially convinced that their next relationship will be the one to bring them happiness. Look at people who spend on the newest fashion, car, extension for their home, whatever, seeking that which will end the misery that is their current life and bring them lasting joy.
With בן סורר ומורה, the Torah tells us that we can’t tell these addicts to snap out of it. We can’t yell at a child for pursuing pleasure, and expect that he will suddenly become happy with his lot. When it comes to protecting our children from addiction, “Just say no” is of limited use.
Some parents try another tack: Rather than fight it, they try to provide the happiness that their children seek. Disneyworld, the latest toys and fashions, school and camp wherever the kids want to go... This is the anti-בן סורר ומורה - but, as we all know both instinctively and empirically, this doesn’t work, either.
King David had a son named Adoniyahu, and Tanach tells us that he refused to rebuke Adoniyahu, he never saddened this son of his. So Adoniyahu, accustomed to getting his way, launched a coup to take the throne. And when he was defeated, and his life was spared, he tried again!
You can give a child every object in the world, every experience imaginable, but that will not give a child happiness.
Rather, to quote Rabbi Dr. Twerski from his wonderful book, “Positive Parenting,” the job of a parent is to provide a child with the skills for achieving happiness on his own. When children grow up to become adults who can make themselves happy, then they don’t need to pursue food or alcohol or drugs or power or acquisitions - they are happy on their own.
Parents can do this, parents can provide these tools for their children, if they embrace a mystical concept called צמצום (Tzimtzum). צמצום means withdrawal. In mysticism, it refers to the way that Gd creates the universe and embraces all of it, but simultaneously withdraws immanent control and permits us freedom of choice.
In the parenting world, צמצום means that we step back, that we are careful not to overshadow our children, that rather than rebuke harshly, we show our children respect as individuals and we help them learn to make themselves happy.
*צמצום means that when a child breaks a rule, we don’t take it personally and demand an apology for having broken our rule. An apology may be appropriate - but it should never be about our parental egos. צמצום - our egos are not present at all.
*צמצום means that we don’t put ourselves out there as stars; we don’t excel in front of them in a way that will intimidate them. If I think my daughter might be insecure about how fast she can run, I don’t show her how fast I can run. If I think my son might be insecure about his reading skills, I don’t comment in front of him about how many books I have read. צמצום - we remain in the background, rather than make ourselves the focus.
*צמצום means that we don’t solve problems for our children to make them happy; rather, we help them figure out how to solve problems and make themselves happy. Rabbi Dr. Twerski tells the fictional story of a child, Notti, who comes home from school and complains about a teacher. Notti had answered a question in class, and the teacher had said it was the dumbest answer he had ever heard in his entire life. Of course, what the teacher did was grossly inappropriate, and the parent can talk to the principal - but telling Notti that he’s going to intervene is the opposite of צמצום; the parent is now solving the problem, instead of teaching Notti to do it. As Rabbi Dr. Twerski asks, “Are Notti’s parents going to intervene 20 years later when Notti’s supervisor at work mistreats him?” Rather, Notti’s father could say, “Boy, you sure got yourself a humdinger of a teacher this year.” Then the father and son can talk about tough teachers, and Notti can come to the confident conclusion, on his own, that he can withstand the ineptitude of a poor teacher. This is צמצום - stepping back and allowing the child to be the one to solve the problem.
Of course, צמצום does not mean that the parent is absent. Absentee parenting is criminal negligence. צמצום is the art of being home, being present, being involved, and yet removing one’s ego, not being the overshadowing star, and helping our children gain self-confidence and learn to solve their own problems.
I should note that this concept of צמצום is important not only for parenting, but also for the way we interact with each other. True, we aren’t each others’ parents - but the more we employ צמצום, avoiding overshadowing others, avoiding taking control of situations, the more we can help others to shine.
Rabbi Dr. Twerski never uses the term צמצום in his book; that’s just my own watchword. Nonetheless, the message of צמצום is there throughout his book. I’ll close with one story, which I believe encapsulates the message perfectly.
When Rabbi Dr. Twerski was a child, one Rosh haShanah, his family hosted a visiting rabbi. On Rosh haShanah afternoon the rabbi invited him to play chess. Young Avraham Twerski thought this was inappropriate for the day, but the rabbi assured him it would be fine. They played two games.
Later that day, Rabbi Dr. Twerski’s father called him into his study. Here is the rest of the story, as he tells it in his book:
When I entered his study, he was engrossed in a sefer, and I stood by respectfully silent, awaiting his recognition. After a few moments he looked up and said softly, “You played chess on Yom Tov?”
“Yes,” I said. “Rabbi C. said it was allowed.”
My father said nothing. He returned his gaze to the sefer, and slowly, barely perceptibly, shook his head in the negative. The message was clear: Even if technically not forbidden, it was not in the spirit of Rosh haShanah to play games. I felt terrible. I had desecrated the holy day.
I remained standing respectfully, waiting to be dismissed, digesting the reprimand I had received. Then my father looked up, with a twinkle in his eye, and said, “But you did checkmate him, didn’t you?”
“Twice,” I said, softly but happily.
My father returned to his sefer, and after a few moments smiled. “Geh gezunterheit.”
There was none of the ויסרו אותו rebuke of the בן סורר ומורה. There were no lashes, there was no courtroom drama, no apologies were demanded. The father said as much as he needed to say, and then, in an act of צמצום, he withdrew himself and his disapproval from the scene and allowed his son to re-establish his self-esteem.
Regarding this story, and the overall lesson of צמצום, I echo the words of the gemara and Rav Shlomo Eidels for all parents: דרוש וקבל שכר, Learn it, and you will receive reward.
-
Notes:
1. The comment from Rav Shlomo Eidels is in Maharsha, Chiddushei Aggadot to Sanhedrin 71a. The Hebrew I quote from Maharsha is what I believe to be the correct text. The one printed in the Vilna shas has מכפה instead of מחפה, but is clearly a mistake by a sofer thinking of יכפה אף.
2. Many are bothered by the point I raise, that the parents of the בן סורר ומורה did, in fact, rebuke him. This leads them to analyze the Torah's text and find hints at why their rebuke was inadequate - such as the idea that the parents did not rebuke with the same voice.
3. "Just say no" is an incomplete approach. In his book, Positive Parenting (pg 307), Rabbi Dr. Twerski points out that in the early days of the “Just say no” campaign, research psychologists looked at kids’ responses to this approach, and were surprised to find 13 and 14 year-old kids responding, “Why? What else is there?”
4. The fictional story of Notti is on pages 65-66 in Positive Parenting; the chess story is on page 236.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Daf: Gittin 51-54 – Psychology of Borrowers, Tzedakah, Dream Prophecy and Parenting
Getting closer to catching up on my Daf Yomi notes. Bored by this? No problem; jump down to read about how Israel, with Large Hadron Collider, creates Black Hole to destroy Palestinians.
Gittin 51a
See Tosafot וכי; I find this read simpler than that of Rashi.
Gittin 51b
Our gemara here makes a psychological assumption which, I think, requires explanation. The gemara says that a borrower who could not pay back his debt might deny part of the debt in an attempt to stall full payment, but he would not have the chutzpah to deny the debt entirely, in front of his benefactor. Therefore, if a defendant denies a debt entirely, we trust him.
In our day, this seems strange – of course people would lie! But I think that’s partly a function of the change in lending habits. Today, individuals rarely lend significant sums of money; institutions are the lenders, with their mortgages. But in the days of the gemara, as I have explained elsewhere, interest-free loans were the chief engine of tzedakah from one individual to another.
Therefore, the borrower, knowing he has received hefty tzedakah from the plaintiff, would not have the hubris to deny the tzedakah outright and in entirety.
Gittin 52a
The gemara here says that court-appointed guardians cannot perform mitzvot for his charges using their funds, if the sums that would be spent would not be known and fixed (קצבה). Mezuzot are considered to have a known, fixed value. Tzedakah, on the other hand, does not.
One might argue that tzedakah has a fixed value, 10% of income, but that would not be correct. We have two separate mitzvot of tzedakah. One is the requirement to give to needy people who are standing before us, and there is no limit on that giving. The practice of giving 10% is a separate custom of allocating 10% of our income to tzedakah, and going to find needy people to whom we will be able to distribute it.
The gemara here says that dreams “לא מעלין ולא מורידין,” have no practical import. This would seem to clash with the idea that dreams have some element of prophecy, a view held by many sages!
Of course, the most famous passage of gemara on this theme, in the 9th chapter of Berachot, offers both views. Ibn Ezra, though, among others, argued that the majority view is that dreams do have great prophetic significance!
R’ Yehudah haChasid (Sefer Chasidim 444) argued that dreams are considered prophetically significant. He explained our gemara to mean that if one sees in a dream that he should do something wrong, then he should say that dreams are insignificant. This fits our gemara, in which the dreamer (Rabbi Meir) felt the dream was giving him inappropriate counsel.
Gittin 52b
The gemara says that although we ordinarily require a thirty-day waiting period for evaluation and bids before selling minor orphans’ property on their behalf, this is not the case where the money is needed for burial. Tosafot ולקבורה asks that this is obvious, since we don’t delay burial! He explains that the gemara is saying we would sell off the property immediately even to pay debts incurred in the process of burial.
Gittin 54a
The gemara here debates whether we fine people for accidental violation of the law, in order to keep them from violating it intentionally. There is a concern that if we do not penalize accidental violation, people will be careless.
This same debate comes up in the field of parenting, too; do we punish children for accidents, in an attempt to make them be more careful? Does that method work?
Gittin 54b
Abayye says that we believe a person who says that he disqualified my korban or contaminated my produce with טומאה, if he could just as easily do it right now, anyway. The idea seems to be that since, if we didn’t believe him, he could go ahead and do it right now, we might as well believe him about the past.
This seems a bit odd to me; after all, his testimony about the past was that happened by accident in the past. Would we really think he would do this intentionally, violating biblical law?! (There is, as I recall, a Tosafot in Bava Metzia on a similar idea in a מיגו argument.)
The gemara here talks about repairing a Sefer Torah in which all of the Names of HaShem were written with improper intent. It talks about tracing over the Names with proper intent, but doesn’t mention the other solution: cutting out the parchment in each spot, and replacing it. Presumably the reason it doesn’t mention this approach is because the same problem that applies to tracing – the fact that it will make the Torah scroll look odd – would apply to this solution, too.
Gittin 51a
See Tosafot וכי; I find this read simpler than that of Rashi.
Gittin 51b
Our gemara here makes a psychological assumption which, I think, requires explanation. The gemara says that a borrower who could not pay back his debt might deny part of the debt in an attempt to stall full payment, but he would not have the chutzpah to deny the debt entirely, in front of his benefactor. Therefore, if a defendant denies a debt entirely, we trust him.
In our day, this seems strange – of course people would lie! But I think that’s partly a function of the change in lending habits. Today, individuals rarely lend significant sums of money; institutions are the lenders, with their mortgages. But in the days of the gemara, as I have explained elsewhere, interest-free loans were the chief engine of tzedakah from one individual to another.
Therefore, the borrower, knowing he has received hefty tzedakah from the plaintiff, would not have the hubris to deny the tzedakah outright and in entirety.
Gittin 52a
The gemara here says that court-appointed guardians cannot perform mitzvot for his charges using their funds, if the sums that would be spent would not be known and fixed (קצבה). Mezuzot are considered to have a known, fixed value. Tzedakah, on the other hand, does not.
One might argue that tzedakah has a fixed value, 10% of income, but that would not be correct. We have two separate mitzvot of tzedakah. One is the requirement to give to needy people who are standing before us, and there is no limit on that giving. The practice of giving 10% is a separate custom of allocating 10% of our income to tzedakah, and going to find needy people to whom we will be able to distribute it.
The gemara here says that dreams “לא מעלין ולא מורידין,” have no practical import. This would seem to clash with the idea that dreams have some element of prophecy, a view held by many sages!
Of course, the most famous passage of gemara on this theme, in the 9th chapter of Berachot, offers both views. Ibn Ezra, though, among others, argued that the majority view is that dreams do have great prophetic significance!
R’ Yehudah haChasid (Sefer Chasidim 444) argued that dreams are considered prophetically significant. He explained our gemara to mean that if one sees in a dream that he should do something wrong, then he should say that dreams are insignificant. This fits our gemara, in which the dreamer (Rabbi Meir) felt the dream was giving him inappropriate counsel.
Gittin 52b
The gemara says that although we ordinarily require a thirty-day waiting period for evaluation and bids before selling minor orphans’ property on their behalf, this is not the case where the money is needed for burial. Tosafot ולקבורה asks that this is obvious, since we don’t delay burial! He explains that the gemara is saying we would sell off the property immediately even to pay debts incurred in the process of burial.
Gittin 54a
The gemara here debates whether we fine people for accidental violation of the law, in order to keep them from violating it intentionally. There is a concern that if we do not penalize accidental violation, people will be careless.
This same debate comes up in the field of parenting, too; do we punish children for accidents, in an attempt to make them be more careful? Does that method work?
Gittin 54b
Abayye says that we believe a person who says that he disqualified my korban or contaminated my produce with טומאה, if he could just as easily do it right now, anyway. The idea seems to be that since, if we didn’t believe him, he could go ahead and do it right now, we might as well believe him about the past.
This seems a bit odd to me; after all, his testimony about the past was that happened by accident in the past. Would we really think he would do this intentionally, violating biblical law?! (There is, as I recall, a Tosafot in Bava Metzia on a similar idea in a מיגו argument.)
The gemara here talks about repairing a Sefer Torah in which all of the Names of HaShem were written with improper intent. It talks about tracing over the Names with proper intent, but doesn’t mention the other solution: cutting out the parchment in each spot, and replacing it. Presumably the reason it doesn’t mention this approach is because the same problem that applies to tracing – the fact that it will make the Torah scroll look odd – would apply to this solution, too.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Israel, with Large Hadron Collider, creates black hole to destroy Palestinians
(I hate to post this so soon after Jameel's cross-post on rotten men who are leaving their wives agunot. So please, please, scroll down or just click here and read it.)
In my ScienceDaily email the other day, I learned that Israeli knowhow has played a great role in building the largest research project ever, the Large Hadron Collider, which is up-and-running as of today under the mountains of France or Switzerland or some other non-English-speaking European country with mountains:
On September 10, 2008, Tel Aviv University’s Prof. Erez Etzion from the School of Physics and Astronomy will be in the control room of the new CERN Large Hadron Collider (LHC) on the border of France and Switzerland when the LHC is first turned on. Scientists are calling it the largest experiment in the world. It’s taken about 6,000 researchers, $8 billion and ten years to build.
Of the 50 countries that have participated in the project, Israel is among those which have made the greatest contributions. Tel Aviv University in particular has played an essential role in constructing equipment for the collider tunnel, dug deep inside the Swiss-French Alps. And when the switch is thrown in September, science may be changed forever.
...
Prof. Etzion participated in the design and construction of the trigger chambers for ATLAS, one of the two main detectors in the collider. This critical piece of machinery will decide what online data to record -- and what data to discard -- from the 1 billion atomic collisions per second. There is no storage disk space in the universe big enough to hold all the data, says Prof. Etzion, making this detector a key component in the success of the LHC.
At the same time, there are lots of litigious groups protesting that the Large Hadron Collider could create a black hole and destroy the universe. I'm not going to bother posting links to those articles, they're all over the place. Just go here.
So here's the way I see it:
1) If there's no black hole, the Israeli role in the project will be conveniently overlooked.
2) But if there is a black hole, Israel will quickly find itself blamed for its newest crime: spawning a black hole to rid the world of Palestinians...
In my ScienceDaily email the other day, I learned that Israeli knowhow has played a great role in building the largest research project ever, the Large Hadron Collider, which is up-and-running as of today under the mountains of France or Switzerland or some other non-English-speaking European country with mountains:
On September 10, 2008, Tel Aviv University’s Prof. Erez Etzion from the School of Physics and Astronomy will be in the control room of the new CERN Large Hadron Collider (LHC) on the border of France and Switzerland when the LHC is first turned on. Scientists are calling it the largest experiment in the world. It’s taken about 6,000 researchers, $8 billion and ten years to build.
Of the 50 countries that have participated in the project, Israel is among those which have made the greatest contributions. Tel Aviv University in particular has played an essential role in constructing equipment for the collider tunnel, dug deep inside the Swiss-French Alps. And when the switch is thrown in September, science may be changed forever.
...
Prof. Etzion participated in the design and construction of the trigger chambers for ATLAS, one of the two main detectors in the collider. This critical piece of machinery will decide what online data to record -- and what data to discard -- from the 1 billion atomic collisions per second. There is no storage disk space in the universe big enough to hold all the data, says Prof. Etzion, making this detector a key component in the success of the LHC.
At the same time, there are lots of litigious groups protesting that the Large Hadron Collider could create a black hole and destroy the universe. I'm not going to bother posting links to those articles, they're all over the place. Just go here.
So here's the way I see it:
1) If there's no black hole, the Israeli role in the project will be conveniently overlooked.
2) But if there is a black hole, Israel will quickly find itself blamed for its newest crime: spawning a black hole to rid the world of Palestinians...
Getting Tough: Israel Most Wanted
Cross Posted from the Muqata
Have you seen these "men"?
Additional sources (in Hebrew) NRG
Wherever I am, my blog turns towards Eretz Yisrael טובה הארץ מאד מאד
Have you seen these "men"?All of these people shown above have one thing in common: they all refuse to give their wives a get, a religious divorce, leaving their wives stranded as agunot -- unable to remarry -- and these men have gone into hiding.
On the radio yesterday, I heard the interview of one woman as she bitterly explained her situation as an aguna. Surprisingly, (though very encouraging), when asked if she harbored any complaints against the Israeli Rabbinate, she alternatively praised their efforts to find her husband.
The Chief Rabbinate has gone on the offensive to help agunot, and is posting pictures on their website with descriptions of each individual recalcitrant husband; last know whereabouts, possible methods they used to change their appearances, and they provide the option to leave anonymous tips as to there where these people might be.
If you have seen any of them, PLEASE contact the Chief Rabbinate through their website (or email me and I'll send it to them).
The aguna on the radio asked for an additional minute on the radio station, to which the interviewer gladly granted. "The biggest problem is not the religious establishment -- I believe they are honestly doing their best to help me. The problem is the families of the men who help hide and protect them -- while our lives are held hostage [from remarrying]"
Do you know these people? Have you seen them? These moral and Jewish degenerates need to be found quickly, so their wives can be freed. If you've seen them, or have a clue where they are -- please contact the Israeli Chief Rabbinate via their website, their phone number 02-658-2822, or you can even contact the Israeli police (100).
In particular, 33 year old son of Anglo immigrants to Israel, Meir Briskman has refused to grant his wife a divorce for the past five years -- and he may have fled Israel. He may live in your community! Have you seen him?
On the radio yesterday, I heard the interview of one woman as she bitterly explained her situation as an aguna. Surprisingly, (though very encouraging), when asked if she harbored any complaints against the Israeli Rabbinate, she alternatively praised their efforts to find her husband.
The Chief Rabbinate has gone on the offensive to help agunot, and is posting pictures on their website with descriptions of each individual recalcitrant husband; last know whereabouts, possible methods they used to change their appearances, and they provide the option to leave anonymous tips as to there where these people might be.
If you have seen any of them, PLEASE contact the Chief Rabbinate through their website (or email me and I'll send it to them).
The aguna on the radio asked for an additional minute on the radio station, to which the interviewer gladly granted. "The biggest problem is not the religious establishment -- I believe they are honestly doing their best to help me. The problem is the families of the men who help hide and protect them -- while our lives are held hostage [from remarrying]"
Do you know these people? Have you seen them? These moral and Jewish degenerates need to be found quickly, so their wives can be freed. If you've seen them, or have a clue where they are -- please contact the Israeli Chief Rabbinate via their website, their phone number 02-658-2822, or you can even contact the Israeli police (100).
In particular, 33 year old son of Anglo immigrants to Israel, Meir Briskman has refused to grant his wife a divorce for the past five years -- and he may have fled Israel. He may live in your community! Have you seen him?"From our experiences, we believe that refusing a get [divorce] is a social problem," said Rabbi Eliyah Ben-Dahan, director of the rabbinic courts. "If we reveal the identity in a public forum of those men who refuse to grant their wives a get‚ then he will stop being accepted in his immediate environment."
Ben-Dahan added that even if the man in question has gone into hiding, it is likely that his close family may know his whereabouts. Publishing the man's name will bring shame upon his family, he said, hopefully prompting them to come forward with information that will ultimately free the woman in question."
Robyn Shames, director of the International Coalition of Agunah Rights, said she welcomed the move. "I think it's fantastic - any move by the rabbinic courts to find men in an unwanted marriage should be applauded. Efforts need to be made to encourage society to change how they relate to men who refuse to give divorces - they should be treated just like men who violently abuse their wives, because it is a form of abuse." (JPOST)
Additional sources (in Hebrew) NRG
Wherever I am, my blog turns towards Eretz Yisrael טובה הארץ מאד מאד
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Apples and Honey and Superstition (nichush) for Rosh HaShanah
You know the drill:
Dip the apple in the honey,
Pass the fish (head),
carrots (possibly cut in circle ‘coin’ shapes),
leek (yum!) and/or fenugreek (huh?),
beets and pomegranate seeds (may your dry cleaner have a good year),
black-eyed peas (Persians, perhaps other sephardim as well?),
kubbeh (remind me to talk more about this one some time)…
Yes, it’s Rosh HaShanah! Forget the shofar, it's time for the “other” Seder, when we eat all sorts of odd foods as a sign for a sweet new year.
It all began with Abayye, who said (Horiyyot 12a), “Since we say that signs are substantive (סימנא מילתא היא), one should accustom himself to see gourds and fenugreek, leek, beets and dates at the start of the year.”
Other editions have “to eat” in place of “to see,” a point worthy of its own discussion, but I have a point I’m trying to get to here: The Torah says (Vayyikra 19:26) לא תנחשו, You shall not rely on omens. The gemara (Chullin 95b) seems to define nichush as relying on omens to determine future action. If so, what are we doing with these weird food omens on Rosh HaShanah?
I have seen four different approaches to this:
1) Rav Natronai Gaon, some 1100 years ago, wrote, “This is a good reading of omens, and sages and most of Babylon are accustomed to do this.” That’s it. This is good nichush – נחש לטובה, as he put it. I don’t really understand this.
2) We could offer a second answer, based on Tosafot (13th century) to Chullin 95b. The gemara there uses Eliezer, Avraham’s servant, to provide an example of nichush. Eliezer is supposed to go to Avraham’s family, to find a wife for Yitzchak – but, instead, he comes to a well and declares that the right girl will be the one who offers water for him and for his camels. This is nichush – offering water is not relevant to the task at hand of finding Avraham's family.
Tosafot asks how Eliezer could do this, according to the view that this prohibition against nichush applies to non-Jewish Noachides as well. Tosafot answers that it was acceptable because Eliezer didn't rely on this to affect his actions; he didn't give Rivkah the jewelry until he knew she was family.
Tosafot’s answer works for us, too. We don’t eat apples and honey and then decide we don’t need to daven, or do teshuvah (repent). It’s just a nice symbol. (This may also be what Maharsha means in Horiyyot?)
3) Or Zarua and Raavyah, writing about 900 years ago, explain that our apples-and-honey fetish isn’t really about an omen, after all. Rather, it’s an association with Tanach, meant to put us in a good frame of mind for Rosh HaShanah.
Specifically, sweet foods call forth Ezra’s positive Rosh HaShanah message of forgiveness to the Jews who returned for the second Beit haMikdash. Ezra declared (Nechemiah 8:10), “Go and eat fatty foods and drink sweet drinks, and send portions to those who have none prepared, for today is sacred for our Gd. Do not be sad, for the joy of Gd is your strength.”
The only problem I have with this excellent explanation is that it doesn’t suit Abbaye’s wording in Horiyyot.
4) Finally, and – to me – most simply, the answer is that this is not called “superstition” because it is effective, in some mystical way.
The Sefer Chasidim writes as much in a different context, explaining why ערסא דגדא isn’t nichush, in #458. The Maharal writes it in Beer haGolah, volume 2 (pg. 33 in my edition).
Why should these foods be effective?
Take a look at the words of Ramban in Bereishit 12:6 – “Know that all of the decrees of Above become irreversibly enduring once they cease being decrees and become active and visible…And therefore Gd had Avraham begin to take control of Israel, and He made Avraham model all that would happen with his descendants.”
So by eating sweet foods, we begin to have a sweet year – and thus the year must continue to be sweet. May it be a sweet year for everyone!
Dip the apple in the honey,
Pass the fish (head),
carrots (possibly cut in circle ‘coin’ shapes),
leek (yum!) and/or fenugreek (huh?),
beets and pomegranate seeds (may your dry cleaner have a good year),
black-eyed peas (Persians, perhaps other sephardim as well?),
kubbeh (remind me to talk more about this one some time)…
Yes, it’s Rosh HaShanah! Forget the shofar, it's time for the “other” Seder, when we eat all sorts of odd foods as a sign for a sweet new year.
It all began with Abayye, who said (Horiyyot 12a), “Since we say that signs are substantive (סימנא מילתא היא), one should accustom himself to see gourds and fenugreek, leek, beets and dates at the start of the year.”
Other editions have “to eat” in place of “to see,” a point worthy of its own discussion, but I have a point I’m trying to get to here: The Torah says (Vayyikra 19:26) לא תנחשו, You shall not rely on omens. The gemara (Chullin 95b) seems to define nichush as relying on omens to determine future action. If so, what are we doing with these weird food omens on Rosh HaShanah?
I have seen four different approaches to this:
1) Rav Natronai Gaon, some 1100 years ago, wrote, “This is a good reading of omens, and sages and most of Babylon are accustomed to do this.” That’s it. This is good nichush – נחש לטובה, as he put it. I don’t really understand this.
2) We could offer a second answer, based on Tosafot (13th century) to Chullin 95b. The gemara there uses Eliezer, Avraham’s servant, to provide an example of nichush. Eliezer is supposed to go to Avraham’s family, to find a wife for Yitzchak – but, instead, he comes to a well and declares that the right girl will be the one who offers water for him and for his camels. This is nichush – offering water is not relevant to the task at hand of finding Avraham's family.
Tosafot asks how Eliezer could do this, according to the view that this prohibition against nichush applies to non-Jewish Noachides as well. Tosafot answers that it was acceptable because Eliezer didn't rely on this to affect his actions; he didn't give Rivkah the jewelry until he knew she was family.
Tosafot’s answer works for us, too. We don’t eat apples and honey and then decide we don’t need to daven, or do teshuvah (repent). It’s just a nice symbol. (This may also be what Maharsha means in Horiyyot?)
3) Or Zarua and Raavyah, writing about 900 years ago, explain that our apples-and-honey fetish isn’t really about an omen, after all. Rather, it’s an association with Tanach, meant to put us in a good frame of mind for Rosh HaShanah.
Specifically, sweet foods call forth Ezra’s positive Rosh HaShanah message of forgiveness to the Jews who returned for the second Beit haMikdash. Ezra declared (Nechemiah 8:10), “Go and eat fatty foods and drink sweet drinks, and send portions to those who have none prepared, for today is sacred for our Gd. Do not be sad, for the joy of Gd is your strength.”
The only problem I have with this excellent explanation is that it doesn’t suit Abbaye’s wording in Horiyyot.
4) Finally, and – to me – most simply, the answer is that this is not called “superstition” because it is effective, in some mystical way.
The Sefer Chasidim writes as much in a different context, explaining why ערסא דגדא isn’t nichush, in #458. The Maharal writes it in Beer haGolah, volume 2 (pg. 33 in my edition).
Why should these foods be effective?
Take a look at the words of Ramban in Bereishit 12:6 – “Know that all of the decrees of Above become irreversibly enduring once they cease being decrees and become active and visible…And therefore Gd had Avraham begin to take control of Israel, and He made Avraham model all that would happen with his descendants.”
So by eating sweet foods, we begin to have a sweet year – and thus the year must continue to be sweet. May it be a sweet year for everyone!
Monday, September 8, 2008
Daf: Gittin 45-50 - Prisoner exchanges, Minim, Yovel, Lending, Is Marriage a Mitzvah?
Still catching up on posting thoughts on the Daf. For those who are less text-oriented, jump down to My Noachide Wedding.
Gittin 45a
The gemara here mentions Levi bar Darga redeeming his daughter from captivity for 13,000 gold coins. Note my comments here (Nedarim 25a) and here (Nedarim 41), about thirteen being a number used in the gemara for exaggeration, for effect.
Our gemara talks about not paying too much to ransom captives. Tosafot דלא here asks the classic question regarding talmudic cases in which overly large sums were paid, and gives three answers which shape, to this day, our policy in issues like prisoner exchange: Greater expenditures are justified, potentially, if one is redeeming his wife/himself, or if one is redeeming a person who is exceptionally valuable for society, or if one is in an environment where capturing/ransoming is normal, so that one is not really risking additional kidnapping by acceding to a demand.
Gittin 45b
See Rashi here on מין. Here Rashi says “min” means “one who cleaves to idolatry, like a priest.” See also Rashi to Sanhedrin 38a, where Adam haRishon is accused of being a “min.” See also Rashi to Shabbat 116a ספרי מינין. See also Rashi Berachot 12a "Minim", and Rashi Shabbat 75a. However, Rashi Berachot 12b מינות says “those who convert the logic of Torah to erroneous analysis and idolatry.” (Note the censored edition there, though, which may explain this comment in Rashi.)
Gittin 46a
Tosafot כיון is very important, explaining the justifications for honoring the deal struck between the Jews and the Givonim after entering Israel.
Fascinating, from a methodological perspective: The gemara here translates talmudic use of the word רבים based on biblical use of the word רבים!
Gittin 46b
See Tosafot הנודר explaining why taking a vow is like building an illegal altar.
Gittin 47b
Rashi here המוכר שדהו לפירות says that Yovel ceased after the initial exile of Reuven and Gad. Tosafot Gittin 36a “b’Zman” and Tosafot Erchin 31b/32a Hitkin disagree, arguing that they had Yovel in the second Beit haMikdash. Tosafot has substantial proof on his side. Ramban to Gittin 36a disagrees with him, though.
Gittin 49b
See the important Tosafot ור' שמעון, pointing out that we are free to analyze the reasons for/lessons from mitzvot (דורש טעמא דקרא); the only debate regarding the legitimacy of this approach is regarding using those reasons/lessons for practical halachic decisions.
The gemara here points out that we wish to encourage lending; this is because loans are the premier engine for tzedakah in a Torah society. See my comments in “Government as Economic Protector.”
Rashi and Tosafot disagree as to the meaning of משום חינא. Rashi’s view seems to say that we are trying to provide a woman with an incentive to marry a man, whereas Tosafot explains that we are trying to make it easier for her to find a husband.
Gittin 50a
The gemara here indicates that marriage is a mitzvah.
See Beitzah 36b-37a, where marriage is a mitzvah only if one does not currently have a wife and children. From there it is clear that marriage is, at most, a mitzvah-enabler (for permissible procreation) but not a mitzvah in itself.
However, the Rambam (Mishneh Torah Hilchot Ishut 1:2) says marriage is, indeed, a mitzvah. See the Magid Mishneh there and in Hilchot Ishut 1:4, who tries to explain this as either a copyist's error or a reference to a prohibition against living together without marriage.
See also the Rosh to Ketuvot 1:12, on the berachah we recite for kiddushin not being a birkat hamitzvah.
Gittin 45a
The gemara here mentions Levi bar Darga redeeming his daughter from captivity for 13,000 gold coins. Note my comments here (Nedarim 25a) and here (Nedarim 41), about thirteen being a number used in the gemara for exaggeration, for effect.
Our gemara talks about not paying too much to ransom captives. Tosafot דלא here asks the classic question regarding talmudic cases in which overly large sums were paid, and gives three answers which shape, to this day, our policy in issues like prisoner exchange: Greater expenditures are justified, potentially, if one is redeeming his wife/himself, or if one is redeeming a person who is exceptionally valuable for society, or if one is in an environment where capturing/ransoming is normal, so that one is not really risking additional kidnapping by acceding to a demand.
Gittin 45b
See Rashi here on מין. Here Rashi says “min” means “one who cleaves to idolatry, like a priest.” See also Rashi to Sanhedrin 38a, where Adam haRishon is accused of being a “min.” See also Rashi to Shabbat 116a ספרי מינין. See also Rashi Berachot 12a "Minim", and Rashi Shabbat 75a. However, Rashi Berachot 12b מינות says “those who convert the logic of Torah to erroneous analysis and idolatry.” (Note the censored edition there, though, which may explain this comment in Rashi.)
Gittin 46a
Tosafot כיון is very important, explaining the justifications for honoring the deal struck between the Jews and the Givonim after entering Israel.
Fascinating, from a methodological perspective: The gemara here translates talmudic use of the word רבים based on biblical use of the word רבים!
Gittin 46b
See Tosafot הנודר explaining why taking a vow is like building an illegal altar.
Gittin 47b
Rashi here המוכר שדהו לפירות says that Yovel ceased after the initial exile of Reuven and Gad. Tosafot Gittin 36a “b’Zman” and Tosafot Erchin 31b/32a Hitkin disagree, arguing that they had Yovel in the second Beit haMikdash. Tosafot has substantial proof on his side. Ramban to Gittin 36a disagrees with him, though.
Gittin 49b
See the important Tosafot ור' שמעון, pointing out that we are free to analyze the reasons for/lessons from mitzvot (דורש טעמא דקרא); the only debate regarding the legitimacy of this approach is regarding using those reasons/lessons for practical halachic decisions.
The gemara here points out that we wish to encourage lending; this is because loans are the premier engine for tzedakah in a Torah society. See my comments in “Government as Economic Protector.”
Rashi and Tosafot disagree as to the meaning of משום חינא. Rashi’s view seems to say that we are trying to provide a woman with an incentive to marry a man, whereas Tosafot explains that we are trying to make it easier for her to find a husband.
Gittin 50a
The gemara here indicates that marriage is a mitzvah.
See Beitzah 36b-37a, where marriage is a mitzvah only if one does not currently have a wife and children. From there it is clear that marriage is, at most, a mitzvah-enabler (for permissible procreation) but not a mitzvah in itself.
However, the Rambam (Mishneh Torah Hilchot Ishut 1:2) says marriage is, indeed, a mitzvah. See the Magid Mishneh there and in Hilchot Ishut 1:4, who tries to explain this as either a copyist's error or a reference to a prohibition against living together without marriage.
See also the Rosh to Ketuvot 1:12, on the berachah we recite for kiddushin not being a birkat hamitzvah.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
My Noachide Wedding
Many Rabbis love doing “unusual” things, the activities that don’t fit people’s normal expectations of the rabbinic lifestyle. Rabbis up on telephone poles (securing Eruv attachments), rabbis touring far corners of Asia or standing inside large pipes (investigating kosher certifications), Rabbis certifying kosher caskets, that sort of thing.
I’ve definitely had my share of unusual circumstances, but last Wednesday offered pretty strong competition for the Unusual title: A Noachide wedding.
It started a few months ago, when I received an email from a local man and woman who explained that they are not Jewish, but they are not affiliated with any other religion either, and they believe in the Bible and the Noachide laws (not to kill, not to steal, etc). They wanted to get married, and wanted a wedding which would be more spiritual than one performed by a secular officiant – so, could I perform a ceremony for them?
My first thought was, "Wow, that would be cool."
My second thought was that I couldn’t do this for legal reasons; the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania recognizes my ability to conduct a Jewish marriage, but could I really just officiate at any wedding, even a secular one?
My third thought was that I wouldn’t know what ritual to use. I wouldn’t want to use Jewish ritual – they are not Jewish, and are under no illusions on that matter. So what would I do?
On the other hand: Come on, how cool is that, getting to do a Noachide wedding?
So I emailed colleagues, who clarified that a rabbi is empowered to perform any wedding which conforms with municipal law, but who had no idea what ritual to use. I Googled “Noachide Weddings” and "Noahide Weddings" and came up with this page, but the contents made me uncomfortable; I really didn’t like their adaptation of key Jewish wedding elements – the berachah on wine, the ketubah, the Chuppah canopy.
But some colleagues of mine urged me on, pointing out that it’s pretty rare for an Orthodox rabbi to have a chance to get really creative!
Then, as I talked to the couple more and met with them, they were so visibly sincere that I fell in love with the idea beyond the "adventure" level. It was a chance to help good people do a good thing, in a meaningful way. Isn't that why I'm a rabbi in the first place?
So I developed a ceremony which drew on biblical themes common for Jews and non-Jews, and meaningful for a wedding.
Here’s what we did:
1) They had found a non-denominational chapel in a park, and we used that space. As they stood together, I sang the traditional Jewish chuppah songs of Mi Adir and Mi Ban Siach.
2) I then presented a dvar torah on the Torah’s history of marriage, going back to Adam and Chavah. I explained the Adam I and Adam II narratives, using Ramban’s idea that one narrative is creation of the soul (unified) and the other is creation of the body (separate). I talked about why Adam and Chavah benefit from being of two separate bodies – the idea, expressed in various commentaries, that the man and woman complement each other with their strengths, and so accomplish things they could never accomplish as one unit.
3) They had wanted to give each other rings, and written their own declaration of love and faithfulness for the occasion, so they did that at this point. I had them say “Behold you are sanctified to me,” taking the first half of the Jewish formula and dropping the “according to the laws of Moses and Israel” segment.
4) They had wanted to have a toast with wine at this point, but I was uncomfortable because of halachic issues which are beyond the scope of this blog, and because of the adoption of a very Jewish wedding practice. So I decided to use water instead.
I explained the biblical significance of water, tracing it from the water present at Creation, through the punitive water of the flood rolling back Creation, through the water in which Jews drowned in Egypt, through the punitive water of Yam Suf, through water from a stone in the desert, etc. My point was the power embedded by Gd in this natural element.
We recited the berachah on water together (the berachah itself – “that all comes into existence at Gd’s command” – being very appropriate for the occasion), and drank.
5) To close the wedding I adapted a tefillah authored by Rabbi Yochanan, presented in Yerushalmi Berachot 4:1, to read as follows:
יהי רצון מלפניך רבונו של עולם שתשכן בבתינו אהבה ואחוה ושלום ורעות ותצליח סופינו אחרית ותקוה ותרבה גבולנו בחברים ותקנינו לב טוב וחברים טובים ונשיש בחלקנו ונשכים ונמצא ייחול לבבנו
May it by Your will, Master of the Universe, that You bring love and brotherhood and peace and friendship into our home, that You give us success and hope, that You broaden our boundaries with friends, that You establish for us a good heart and good friends, that You make us happy with our lot, and that we rise each day to find our hearts’ desire.
On the whole, it was a remarkable experience. I was moved by their sincerity, and by their respect for Torah and Jewish belief.
I’m glad I did it - not because it was unusual, but because it really was cool in a much deeper way.
[Note: Haveil Havalim is here!]
I’ve definitely had my share of unusual circumstances, but last Wednesday offered pretty strong competition for the Unusual title: A Noachide wedding.
It started a few months ago, when I received an email from a local man and woman who explained that they are not Jewish, but they are not affiliated with any other religion either, and they believe in the Bible and the Noachide laws (not to kill, not to steal, etc). They wanted to get married, and wanted a wedding which would be more spiritual than one performed by a secular officiant – so, could I perform a ceremony for them?
My first thought was, "Wow, that would be cool."
My second thought was that I couldn’t do this for legal reasons; the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania recognizes my ability to conduct a Jewish marriage, but could I really just officiate at any wedding, even a secular one?
My third thought was that I wouldn’t know what ritual to use. I wouldn’t want to use Jewish ritual – they are not Jewish, and are under no illusions on that matter. So what would I do?
On the other hand: Come on, how cool is that, getting to do a Noachide wedding?
So I emailed colleagues, who clarified that a rabbi is empowered to perform any wedding which conforms with municipal law, but who had no idea what ritual to use. I Googled “Noachide Weddings” and "Noahide Weddings" and came up with this page, but the contents made me uncomfortable; I really didn’t like their adaptation of key Jewish wedding elements – the berachah on wine, the ketubah, the Chuppah canopy.
But some colleagues of mine urged me on, pointing out that it’s pretty rare for an Orthodox rabbi to have a chance to get really creative!
Then, as I talked to the couple more and met with them, they were so visibly sincere that I fell in love with the idea beyond the "adventure" level. It was a chance to help good people do a good thing, in a meaningful way. Isn't that why I'm a rabbi in the first place?
So I developed a ceremony which drew on biblical themes common for Jews and non-Jews, and meaningful for a wedding.
Here’s what we did:
1) They had found a non-denominational chapel in a park, and we used that space. As they stood together, I sang the traditional Jewish chuppah songs of Mi Adir and Mi Ban Siach.
2) I then presented a dvar torah on the Torah’s history of marriage, going back to Adam and Chavah. I explained the Adam I and Adam II narratives, using Ramban’s idea that one narrative is creation of the soul (unified) and the other is creation of the body (separate). I talked about why Adam and Chavah benefit from being of two separate bodies – the idea, expressed in various commentaries, that the man and woman complement each other with their strengths, and so accomplish things they could never accomplish as one unit.
3) They had wanted to give each other rings, and written their own declaration of love and faithfulness for the occasion, so they did that at this point. I had them say “Behold you are sanctified to me,” taking the first half of the Jewish formula and dropping the “according to the laws of Moses and Israel” segment.
4) They had wanted to have a toast with wine at this point, but I was uncomfortable because of halachic issues which are beyond the scope of this blog, and because of the adoption of a very Jewish wedding practice. So I decided to use water instead.
I explained the biblical significance of water, tracing it from the water present at Creation, through the punitive water of the flood rolling back Creation, through the water in which Jews drowned in Egypt, through the punitive water of Yam Suf, through water from a stone in the desert, etc. My point was the power embedded by Gd in this natural element.
We recited the berachah on water together (the berachah itself – “that all comes into existence at Gd’s command” – being very appropriate for the occasion), and drank.
5) To close the wedding I adapted a tefillah authored by Rabbi Yochanan, presented in Yerushalmi Berachot 4:1, to read as follows:
יהי רצון מלפניך רבונו של עולם שתשכן בבתינו אהבה ואחוה ושלום ורעות ותצליח סופינו אחרית ותקוה ותרבה גבולנו בחברים ותקנינו לב טוב וחברים טובים ונשיש בחלקנו ונשכים ונמצא ייחול לבבנו
May it by Your will, Master of the Universe, that You bring love and brotherhood and peace and friendship into our home, that You give us success and hope, that You broaden our boundaries with friends, that You establish for us a good heart and good friends, that You make us happy with our lot, and that we rise each day to find our hearts’ desire.
On the whole, it was a remarkable experience. I was moved by their sincerity, and by their respect for Torah and Jewish belief.
I’m glad I did it - not because it was unusual, but because it really was cool in a much deeper way.
[Note: Haveil Havalim is here!]
Friday, September 5, 2008
The End of Leadership: An Elul thought (Derashah, Shoftim 5768)
I am not thrilled with this derashah; I feel like the key idea (the Intimacy point expressed below) requires more thought and discussion. This is part of the oversimplification to which derashot are vulnerable, due to both their natural format and the timeframe afforded for developing them.
Last week, drawing on Parshat Reeh, I proclaimed the Torah’s support for big government. We talked about a pro-active Fed, regulation of lending, commerce and employment, government price-fixing and restraint of trade, all sanctioned by the Torah in the name of society’s health.
Today we’ll have to throw much of that out the window, though, because Parshat Shoftim argues that government is a necessary evil, that political and religious leadership are not a blessing but rather a reaction to human frailty.
Parshat Shoftim introduces us to four classes of leader - Shofet, Melech, Kohen, Navi - and all of them are what we call in Aramaic בדיעבד, “after the fact,” a necessity but not a happy one.
First, Shoftim introduces us to the role of Shofet, of Judge.
The judicial system is a cornerstone of Torah civilization, and is prescribed for all humanity. One of the seven Noachide laws requires all human beings to create laws and enforce them. Shoftim, judges, ruled over Jewish society after the death of Yehoshua’s generation, governing us for four centuries until the coronation of King Shaul.
The Shofet’s power is taken very seriously in the Torah: The judge must be honored; as our Torah says, “If the judge tells you that something is the law, even if he says right is left and left is right, you are required to listen.”
But the Torah seems to view judicial leadership as a sad reality rather than an ideal. As the Torah states it, “כי יהיה ריב בין אנשים, ונגשו אל המשפט ושפטום,” “When people fight, then go to the court for justice.” כי יפלא ממך דבר למשפט, when you are not capable of handling disputes, then go up the ladder of the courts until you reach the Supreme Court at the Beit haMikdash. We do have a hierarchy of courts - but the entire basis for the system is this: When you have a conflict, you need a judge. If there were no conflicts, there would be no need for judges.
The Torah then introduces us to another leader - the Melech, the king.
Society often needs strong government, leaders who will protect society’s least privileged members. Some of our kings were, indeed, sensitive to that responsibility. Pirkei Avot notes that even if our monarchs are corrupt, הוי מתפלל בשלומה של מלכות, we should pray for the welfare of the king, because if not for the monarchy, each person would swallow up the next.
The king, like the shofet, can expect full allegiance; one who is מורד במלכות, rebelling against the throne, earns capital punishment!
But the Torah appears ambivalent about this federal authority, too. The Torah does not provide us with a clear instruction, “Create a federal government.” Instead, ואמרת אשימה עלי מלך ככל הגויים אשר סביבותי, When you say, “We will place a king upon ourselves, like all of the nations around us,” then you can have a king. It’s a concession to our desire.
The third leader we meet is the Kohen, the priest responsible to coordinate operations in the Mishkan and Beit haMikdash.
Those Kohanim, as well as their first-cousins the Leviyyim, played a critical role in Jewish society, bringing offerings and overseeing and maintaining the Beit haMikdash. Some of them were our greatest religious figures; Aharon was a Kohen, Moshe was a Levi, and their descendants guided the nation.
Like the Shofet and the Melech, the Kohen’s domain is sacrosanct; no one may enter the kohen’s territory. Usurping the role of a kohen earns lashes, at least.
But the whole concept of Kehunah and Leviyyah was really a correction for a problem; at first, as Rashi explains, we were not supposed to have a Beit haMikdash at all, let alone a class of religious officials. HaShem wished to dwell among us, in our homes and in our lives, and we were going to relate to HaShem directly. It was only after we created the עגל, the Golden Calf, that HaShem declared ועשו לי מקדש, that we would need a central site for worship, with dedicated workers who would staff that central site.
And, finally, we meet the Navi, the prophet who conveys messages from HaShem to the nation.
I would think that if any leader would be ideal, it would be the Navi - he talks directly to HaShem, and conveys guidance to the nation. Yeshayah, Yirmiyah, Eliyahu, Elisha, neviim are the giants of Tanach, earning praise far surpassing that of all but the best of our kings. So, what could be better than having a navi?
The Navi, too, is protected; those who refuse to follow a navi are harshly punished. And regarding a Jew who pretends to be a navi, Gd says אנכי אדרוש מעמו, I will deal justice to him.
But our parshah describes the Navi as a בדיעבד institution as well. Moshe tells the Jews that HaShem had really wanted to speak to each of them individually. It was only after the Jews retreated from Sinai and said, “We cannot hear from Gd directly, the closeness is too much,” that Gd said, “Fine, I see this is what you need right now, so I will appoint intermediaries to communicate with you.”
So why do we need these leaders and their laws? If Gd didn’t want these functionaries, if Gd wanted us to be able to function without shofeit or kohen, then why did He create us this way?
One answer, I think, is that all of the problems which led us to need judge and king, kohen and navi, stemmed from one fundamental element of our design: Ever since Adam, we have been created as proud individuals, our souls and bodies separated from all others, with the strength of independence and all of the positives it brings. We recognize ourselves as islands, our primary interest is to look after our own well-being, and every relationship, every interaction, is judged based upon how it will affect our independent strength.
The downside of all of this independence is that it comes with an inability to handle immediacy, intimacy:
*Intimacy with other people: We need a shofeit because we have a natural selfishness which traumatizes our relationships; we need a melech because we cannot unite ourselves.
*And intimacy with Gd: We need a kohen because we aren’t ready to be close to Gd; we need a navi for the same reason.
Of course, we do seek community, and we do act selflessly at times, to fill our pragmatic needs - to provide comfort or protection or resources, or to fill some other psychological or practical gap. We seek HaShem, too, generally because of some need within ourselves. But these practical needs tend to be more utilitarian than idealistic.
We erect barriers against too close an intimacy with others, lest we make ourselves vulnerable to harm. Emotions are concealed, apologies are scarce, rights are fiercely protected, and only the power of the law and the lawsuit can wrestle concessions from our tight grasp.
We shy away from too intense a sharing of our with Gd, lest we become drawn into a religion which will eliminate our individuality. It’s the old phenomenon of vicarious Judaism - having the rabbi be the professional Jew, doing “all the right things,” so to speak, so that other people won’t have to.
Enter these leaders, as mediators - kings and judges to mediate our relationships with other people, priests and prophets to mediate our relationship with HaShem.
But these roles, I am convinced by our parshah and by the predictions of the neviim, are not meant to last forever. As the neviim themselves predict, there will come a day when we will all be neviim, כי מלאה הארץ דעה את ה', the earth will be filled with knowledge of HaShem. We will all be a nation of kohanim, and we will not need special kohanim. No longer will we seek physical gain at the expense of others, and so the שופט’s role will be reduced to handling misunderstandings. And our final king will be a mashiach who will lead us as a nation to reach this ultimate state.
Our task is to evolve, to understand that embracing other people does not eliminate our sovereignty as individuals, to accept that an intense embrace of HaShem does not mean the end of our personalities and identities, to render these leadership models obsolete. Through acts of generosity - political generosity, financial generosity, emotional generosity - we can draw closer to others, step by step, until we are one. And through acts of piety - davening, learning, observing the mitzvot - we can draw closer to HaShem.
There is one day during the year when we achieve this intimacy with our neighbors and with HaShem: Yom Kippur.
*We discard all distractions of food and physical pleasures, to spend the day focussing on Gd.
*Right at the outset we announce that we have come to pray as one, ignoring barriers for 25 hours until we embrace each other with the shofar blast in our ears and ה' הוא האלקים on our lips, at the close.
In this month of Elul, let’s set the stage for that evolution, apologizing to others for our wrongs and then apologizing to HaShem as well, breaking down barriers of self-consciousness as well as denial, and so come to HaShem and to society on Yom Kippur prepared not to rely on a king or judge, priest or prophet, but to commune with Man, and with HaShem, ourselves.
-
Notes:
1. On the "Lo Tasur" protection for a Shofet, see the difference between Sanhedrin 89, which I cited here, and the Sifri to the same pasuk.
2. I adopted Rashi's view on the origin of the Mishkan/Beit haMikdash, as a make-up for the Golden Calf. However, even with Ramban's view that there was always to be a central site, the firstborn were originally to do that work, so that a greater cross-section of the nation would have been represented, and that changed with the Eigel.
3. I am going out on a limb with my description, at the end, of the messianic period as a time when intentional sin will be more or less eliminated. This is actually not clear at all.
Last week, drawing on Parshat Reeh, I proclaimed the Torah’s support for big government. We talked about a pro-active Fed, regulation of lending, commerce and employment, government price-fixing and restraint of trade, all sanctioned by the Torah in the name of society’s health.
Today we’ll have to throw much of that out the window, though, because Parshat Shoftim argues that government is a necessary evil, that political and religious leadership are not a blessing but rather a reaction to human frailty.
Parshat Shoftim introduces us to four classes of leader - Shofet, Melech, Kohen, Navi - and all of them are what we call in Aramaic בדיעבד, “after the fact,” a necessity but not a happy one.
First, Shoftim introduces us to the role of Shofet, of Judge.
The judicial system is a cornerstone of Torah civilization, and is prescribed for all humanity. One of the seven Noachide laws requires all human beings to create laws and enforce them. Shoftim, judges, ruled over Jewish society after the death of Yehoshua’s generation, governing us for four centuries until the coronation of King Shaul.
The Shofet’s power is taken very seriously in the Torah: The judge must be honored; as our Torah says, “If the judge tells you that something is the law, even if he says right is left and left is right, you are required to listen.”
But the Torah seems to view judicial leadership as a sad reality rather than an ideal. As the Torah states it, “כי יהיה ריב בין אנשים, ונגשו אל המשפט ושפטום,” “When people fight, then go to the court for justice.” כי יפלא ממך דבר למשפט, when you are not capable of handling disputes, then go up the ladder of the courts until you reach the Supreme Court at the Beit haMikdash. We do have a hierarchy of courts - but the entire basis for the system is this: When you have a conflict, you need a judge. If there were no conflicts, there would be no need for judges.
The Torah then introduces us to another leader - the Melech, the king.
Society often needs strong government, leaders who will protect society’s least privileged members. Some of our kings were, indeed, sensitive to that responsibility. Pirkei Avot notes that even if our monarchs are corrupt, הוי מתפלל בשלומה של מלכות, we should pray for the welfare of the king, because if not for the monarchy, each person would swallow up the next.
The king, like the shofet, can expect full allegiance; one who is מורד במלכות, rebelling against the throne, earns capital punishment!
But the Torah appears ambivalent about this federal authority, too. The Torah does not provide us with a clear instruction, “Create a federal government.” Instead, ואמרת אשימה עלי מלך ככל הגויים אשר סביבותי, When you say, “We will place a king upon ourselves, like all of the nations around us,” then you can have a king. It’s a concession to our desire.
The third leader we meet is the Kohen, the priest responsible to coordinate operations in the Mishkan and Beit haMikdash.
Those Kohanim, as well as their first-cousins the Leviyyim, played a critical role in Jewish society, bringing offerings and overseeing and maintaining the Beit haMikdash. Some of them were our greatest religious figures; Aharon was a Kohen, Moshe was a Levi, and their descendants guided the nation.
Like the Shofet and the Melech, the Kohen’s domain is sacrosanct; no one may enter the kohen’s territory. Usurping the role of a kohen earns lashes, at least.
But the whole concept of Kehunah and Leviyyah was really a correction for a problem; at first, as Rashi explains, we were not supposed to have a Beit haMikdash at all, let alone a class of religious officials. HaShem wished to dwell among us, in our homes and in our lives, and we were going to relate to HaShem directly. It was only after we created the עגל, the Golden Calf, that HaShem declared ועשו לי מקדש, that we would need a central site for worship, with dedicated workers who would staff that central site.
And, finally, we meet the Navi, the prophet who conveys messages from HaShem to the nation.
I would think that if any leader would be ideal, it would be the Navi - he talks directly to HaShem, and conveys guidance to the nation. Yeshayah, Yirmiyah, Eliyahu, Elisha, neviim are the giants of Tanach, earning praise far surpassing that of all but the best of our kings. So, what could be better than having a navi?
The Navi, too, is protected; those who refuse to follow a navi are harshly punished. And regarding a Jew who pretends to be a navi, Gd says אנכי אדרוש מעמו, I will deal justice to him.
But our parshah describes the Navi as a בדיעבד institution as well. Moshe tells the Jews that HaShem had really wanted to speak to each of them individually. It was only after the Jews retreated from Sinai and said, “We cannot hear from Gd directly, the closeness is too much,” that Gd said, “Fine, I see this is what you need right now, so I will appoint intermediaries to communicate with you.”
So why do we need these leaders and their laws? If Gd didn’t want these functionaries, if Gd wanted us to be able to function without shofeit or kohen, then why did He create us this way?
One answer, I think, is that all of the problems which led us to need judge and king, kohen and navi, stemmed from one fundamental element of our design: Ever since Adam, we have been created as proud individuals, our souls and bodies separated from all others, with the strength of independence and all of the positives it brings. We recognize ourselves as islands, our primary interest is to look after our own well-being, and every relationship, every interaction, is judged based upon how it will affect our independent strength.
The downside of all of this independence is that it comes with an inability to handle immediacy, intimacy:
*Intimacy with other people: We need a shofeit because we have a natural selfishness which traumatizes our relationships; we need a melech because we cannot unite ourselves.
*And intimacy with Gd: We need a kohen because we aren’t ready to be close to Gd; we need a navi for the same reason.
Of course, we do seek community, and we do act selflessly at times, to fill our pragmatic needs - to provide comfort or protection or resources, or to fill some other psychological or practical gap. We seek HaShem, too, generally because of some need within ourselves. But these practical needs tend to be more utilitarian than idealistic.
We erect barriers against too close an intimacy with others, lest we make ourselves vulnerable to harm. Emotions are concealed, apologies are scarce, rights are fiercely protected, and only the power of the law and the lawsuit can wrestle concessions from our tight grasp.
We shy away from too intense a sharing of our with Gd, lest we become drawn into a religion which will eliminate our individuality. It’s the old phenomenon of vicarious Judaism - having the rabbi be the professional Jew, doing “all the right things,” so to speak, so that other people won’t have to.
Enter these leaders, as mediators - kings and judges to mediate our relationships with other people, priests and prophets to mediate our relationship with HaShem.
But these roles, I am convinced by our parshah and by the predictions of the neviim, are not meant to last forever. As the neviim themselves predict, there will come a day when we will all be neviim, כי מלאה הארץ דעה את ה', the earth will be filled with knowledge of HaShem. We will all be a nation of kohanim, and we will not need special kohanim. No longer will we seek physical gain at the expense of others, and so the שופט’s role will be reduced to handling misunderstandings. And our final king will be a mashiach who will lead us as a nation to reach this ultimate state.
Our task is to evolve, to understand that embracing other people does not eliminate our sovereignty as individuals, to accept that an intense embrace of HaShem does not mean the end of our personalities and identities, to render these leadership models obsolete. Through acts of generosity - political generosity, financial generosity, emotional generosity - we can draw closer to others, step by step, until we are one. And through acts of piety - davening, learning, observing the mitzvot - we can draw closer to HaShem.
There is one day during the year when we achieve this intimacy with our neighbors and with HaShem: Yom Kippur.
*We discard all distractions of food and physical pleasures, to spend the day focussing on Gd.
*Right at the outset we announce that we have come to pray as one, ignoring barriers for 25 hours until we embrace each other with the shofar blast in our ears and ה' הוא האלקים on our lips, at the close.
In this month of Elul, let’s set the stage for that evolution, apologizing to others for our wrongs and then apologizing to HaShem as well, breaking down barriers of self-consciousness as well as denial, and so come to HaShem and to society on Yom Kippur prepared not to rely on a king or judge, priest or prophet, but to commune with Man, and with HaShem, ourselves.
-
Notes:
1. On the "Lo Tasur" protection for a Shofet, see the difference between Sanhedrin 89, which I cited here, and the Sifri to the same pasuk.
2. I adopted Rashi's view on the origin of the Mishkan/Beit haMikdash, as a make-up for the Golden Calf. However, even with Ramban's view that there was always to be a central site, the firstborn were originally to do that work, so that a greater cross-section of the nation would have been represented, and that changed with the Eigel.
3. I am going out on a limb with my description, at the end, of the messianic period as a time when intentional sin will be more or less eliminated. This is actually not clear at all.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Daf: Gittin 41-44 – Procreation, Shady outreach methods, Pleonasm, Freeing an עבד to enable mitzvah observance
Still catching up on old notes… for those who are interested, bear with me while I catch up. For those who are not interested, well, I guess it doesn’t matter whether I am caught up or not, right? Skip down the page to hear about evertything that’s wrong with rabbinic speeches.
Gittin 41b
The gemara here cites, as proof that an עבד should be allowed to marry, the pasuk of לא תהו בראה לשבת יצרה, “Gd did not create the world to be empty; Gd formed it for settlement.” They do not bring the classic פרו ורבו “Bear fruit and multiply.” Tosafot לא explains why.
Here we talk about forcing a person to violate biblical law, having him free his עבד, in order to enable the עבד to fulfill a mitzvah of procreation; this is odd, given that Shabbat 4a says we do not tell a person to sin in order to benefit others!
Tosafot כופין offers two approaches: 1) In the case in Shabbat 4a we are dealing with a sinner who did something wrong (putting dough in an oven right before Shabbat) to enter that position; here, the עבד did nothing wrong. 2) Procreation is a mitzvah which helps the community.
Both of these approaches open major questions regarding sinning to benefit someone else, and regarding Outreach methods. What would you think of a Jew who broke a Jewish law in order to become close with someone who was sinning, arguing that he was justified by Tosafot’s argument here – since he would be helping this person, who might then turn out to help others? Or what would you think of a Jew who lied to someone for the sake of “outreach,” making that same argument?
An important point of methodology: Why do we use logic here against a pleonasm (גזירה שוה)? This pleonasm is מופנה, utilizing textual anomalies on either side – so it should not be open to challenge! Tosafot מה suggests that even with a strong pleonasm, logic can challenge it, and result in us using different methods of analyzing those textual anomalies.
Gittin 42b
Tosafot הואיל explains that we need a גט שחרור (document freeing an עבד) in a case in which people might suspect that the עבד was not really freed. This bothers me; the gemara sounds as though the עבד is not free without this document, but in this case the document is really just supposed to be, per Tosafot, an extra protection for the freed עבד’s sake!
Gittin 43b
Note that the gemara here brings the imperative of פרו ורבו, Bear fruit and multiply, for an עבד – which it did not do back on 41b. See Tosafot back on 41b, and the Maharsha on that Tosafot.
Gittin 44a
The gemara at the bottom of this page is fascinating. Ordinarily we say מילתא דלא שכיחא לא גזרו ביה רבנן, that the sages did not make decrees for unusual cases. Here, though, they did make the decree – just not to be too harsh.
The gemara here discusses freeing an עבד in order to enable him to perform mitzvot, since his master has put him in a position where he will otherwise be unable to perform mitzvot. That sounds like it should be an automatic requirement – but we see in this gemara that the עבד has the right to say, “No, I’d rather remain an עבד even though that means I will not be able to perform mitzvot.”
Gittin 41b
The gemara here cites, as proof that an עבד should be allowed to marry, the pasuk of לא תהו בראה לשבת יצרה, “Gd did not create the world to be empty; Gd formed it for settlement.” They do not bring the classic פרו ורבו “Bear fruit and multiply.” Tosafot לא explains why.
Here we talk about forcing a person to violate biblical law, having him free his עבד, in order to enable the עבד to fulfill a mitzvah of procreation; this is odd, given that Shabbat 4a says we do not tell a person to sin in order to benefit others!
Tosafot כופין offers two approaches: 1) In the case in Shabbat 4a we are dealing with a sinner who did something wrong (putting dough in an oven right before Shabbat) to enter that position; here, the עבד did nothing wrong. 2) Procreation is a mitzvah which helps the community.
Both of these approaches open major questions regarding sinning to benefit someone else, and regarding Outreach methods. What would you think of a Jew who broke a Jewish law in order to become close with someone who was sinning, arguing that he was justified by Tosafot’s argument here – since he would be helping this person, who might then turn out to help others? Or what would you think of a Jew who lied to someone for the sake of “outreach,” making that same argument?
An important point of methodology: Why do we use logic here against a pleonasm (גזירה שוה)? This pleonasm is מופנה, utilizing textual anomalies on either side – so it should not be open to challenge! Tosafot מה suggests that even with a strong pleonasm, logic can challenge it, and result in us using different methods of analyzing those textual anomalies.
Gittin 42b
Tosafot הואיל explains that we need a גט שחרור (document freeing an עבד) in a case in which people might suspect that the עבד was not really freed. This bothers me; the gemara sounds as though the עבד is not free without this document, but in this case the document is really just supposed to be, per Tosafot, an extra protection for the freed עבד’s sake!
Gittin 43b
Note that the gemara here brings the imperative of פרו ורבו, Bear fruit and multiply, for an עבד – which it did not do back on 41b. See Tosafot back on 41b, and the Maharsha on that Tosafot.
Gittin 44a
The gemara at the bottom of this page is fascinating. Ordinarily we say מילתא דלא שכיחא לא גזרו ביה רבנן, that the sages did not make decrees for unusual cases. Here, though, they did make the decree – just not to be too harsh.
The gemara here discusses freeing an עבד in order to enable him to perform mitzvot, since his master has put him in a position where he will otherwise be unable to perform mitzvot. That sounds like it should be an automatic requirement – but we see in this gemara that the עבד has the right to say, “No, I’d rather remain an עבד even though that means I will not be able to perform mitzvot.”
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
I hate the rabbi's speech
The new Carnival of Self-Mastery is out here.
[Side note: Speech = sermon = message = talk = derashah. Put whatever name on it you like.]
I always find it funny when people assume that rabbis enjoy giving speeches, that we want to bore you for as long as possible with our observations on Torah, life, the universe and everything.
As a rabbi with a dozen years of regular speechifying behind me, and having discussed this off and on with quite a few other rabbis, I can tell you that one of the most welcome changes in American synagogues, from the rabbinic perspective, would be the elimination of the rabbi’s speech.
Why do I hate the speech?
*First, I spend entirely too much time in writing these speeches, out of proportion with the time I spend on other pursuits.
*Second, I don’t enjoy public speaking, and so the whole endeavor adds greatly to my stress load.
*Third, I hate listening to speeches, so I feel odd putting other people through the experience of listening to my own.
But, even though one guy (yes, you, Jon,) likes to start the first few bars of “Ein KEilokeinu” when I get up to speak, the truth is that I have been told by numerous people that the speech cannot be eliminated; the rabbi's speech is, for some reason or another, a meaningful part of shul for them.
Yes, even though Lion of Zion insists that I shouldn’t speak every day of Yom Tov, I have people who come to shul just because of whatever it is they draw from the speeches, and so all the rest will have to suffer along with me.
Several years ago I floated the idea of printing out the speech and putting it in the lobby for people to take and read, rather than impose it on the shul from the bimah, but even that was rejected. I do realize that words are often more effective when spoken than when written, so I understand it, but I really would have preferred the written form.
So here I am on Wednesday, contemplating a speech for Parshat Shoftim while ideas float through my head for Rosh HaShanah.
I am actually at the anniversary of my first speech as full shul rabbi (previously I had been a rabbinic intern, a wholly other experience worth discussing some time). That first speech was in Congregation Ohawe Sholam, Young Israel of Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Parshat Shoftim 5757/1997. I had married the sainted Rebbetzin two weeks earlier, we had moved in on the previous Sunday, and for my first Shabbos I wrote a speech demanding that more people come to weekday minyan.
It was a harangue, basically, because we had faced real difficulty getting a minyan at shacharis that week. Being a kid, I figured that the speech would be a good time to address the problem; when else do you have everyone there in the room for a good moral and practical lesson about communal Judaism?
That taught me my first on-the-job lesson about speeches: When your only tool is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. I thought my speech was the way to reach people about anything and everything, so, of course, I should use it to bring about change.
In truth, the rabbi’s speech is a horrible tool for instigating change:
*It is aimed at a captive audience, many of whom are contemplating kiddush, lunchtime company, a shabbos afternoon nap, their personal problems, etc.
*It is directed at a large crowd of wildly different personalities, so that it cannot be tailored for everyone – and those for whom it is not customized may well dislike, and even resent, the message.
*It is part of a weekly (or, in Tishrei, almost daily) barrage of messages, which can overburden the audience.
*It doesn’t allow for real discussion and feedback.
*It comes with all of the baggage that the listeners have from past speeches, and even past rabbis.
Far better to speak to every person in shul directly, one by one, than to attempt to reach them with a speech.
Nonetheless, there are things a rabbi can do to give his speech a better chance of success. Here are some things I’ve picked up over the years:
1) Know that the speech is not about you, Rabbi, and your issues; it’s about the people who are sitting in shul, and what interests and motivates them.
2) Recognize that rabbis don’t change people, people change themselves. If anything, the speech is about helping people to decide to change themselves. Present a case, but don’t expect anything grand to happen; that’s an inappropriate expectation.
3) Realize that you, Rabbi, may have been thinking about a certain topic or issue for a long time, but your thoughts need to be properly unpacked and presented for the listeners.
4) Please, Rabbi, please only speak about topics you know about and understand.
5) Classes are Talmud Torah; speeches generally are not Talmud Torah. The venue is wrong, the lecture format doesn’t work well. Reaching HaShem and meeting HaShem’s expectations is (hopefully) the goal of rabbinic leadership, and Torah is your medium, your way of conveying a message, your way of inviting people to aim for achieving that in the future.
6) And above all, Rabbi: If your message isn’t inspiring to you, don’t bother delivering it. Tell people you have a cold this week, or make up some other excuse, but giving a dead speech will not only waste everyone’s time this week, it will also burn your capital for the future.
And on that happy note, I’m off to write my speech for Shoftim…wish me luck.
[Side note: Speech = sermon = message = talk = derashah. Put whatever name on it you like.]
I always find it funny when people assume that rabbis enjoy giving speeches, that we want to bore you for as long as possible with our observations on Torah, life, the universe and everything.
As a rabbi with a dozen years of regular speechifying behind me, and having discussed this off and on with quite a few other rabbis, I can tell you that one of the most welcome changes in American synagogues, from the rabbinic perspective, would be the elimination of the rabbi’s speech.
Why do I hate the speech?
*First, I spend entirely too much time in writing these speeches, out of proportion with the time I spend on other pursuits.
*Second, I don’t enjoy public speaking, and so the whole endeavor adds greatly to my stress load.
*Third, I hate listening to speeches, so I feel odd putting other people through the experience of listening to my own.
But, even though one guy (yes, you, Jon,) likes to start the first few bars of “Ein KEilokeinu” when I get up to speak, the truth is that I have been told by numerous people that the speech cannot be eliminated; the rabbi's speech is, for some reason or another, a meaningful part of shul for them.
Yes, even though Lion of Zion insists that I shouldn’t speak every day of Yom Tov, I have people who come to shul just because of whatever it is they draw from the speeches, and so all the rest will have to suffer along with me.
Several years ago I floated the idea of printing out the speech and putting it in the lobby for people to take and read, rather than impose it on the shul from the bimah, but even that was rejected. I do realize that words are often more effective when spoken than when written, so I understand it, but I really would have preferred the written form.
So here I am on Wednesday, contemplating a speech for Parshat Shoftim while ideas float through my head for Rosh HaShanah.
I am actually at the anniversary of my first speech as full shul rabbi (previously I had been a rabbinic intern, a wholly other experience worth discussing some time). That first speech was in Congregation Ohawe Sholam, Young Israel of Pawtucket, Rhode Island, Parshat Shoftim 5757/1997. I had married the sainted Rebbetzin two weeks earlier, we had moved in on the previous Sunday, and for my first Shabbos I wrote a speech demanding that more people come to weekday minyan.
It was a harangue, basically, because we had faced real difficulty getting a minyan at shacharis that week. Being a kid, I figured that the speech would be a good time to address the problem; when else do you have everyone there in the room for a good moral and practical lesson about communal Judaism?
That taught me my first on-the-job lesson about speeches: When your only tool is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail. I thought my speech was the way to reach people about anything and everything, so, of course, I should use it to bring about change.
In truth, the rabbi’s speech is a horrible tool for instigating change:
*It is aimed at a captive audience, many of whom are contemplating kiddush, lunchtime company, a shabbos afternoon nap, their personal problems, etc.
*It is directed at a large crowd of wildly different personalities, so that it cannot be tailored for everyone – and those for whom it is not customized may well dislike, and even resent, the message.
*It is part of a weekly (or, in Tishrei, almost daily) barrage of messages, which can overburden the audience.
*It doesn’t allow for real discussion and feedback.
*It comes with all of the baggage that the listeners have from past speeches, and even past rabbis.
Far better to speak to every person in shul directly, one by one, than to attempt to reach them with a speech.
Nonetheless, there are things a rabbi can do to give his speech a better chance of success. Here are some things I’ve picked up over the years:
1) Know that the speech is not about you, Rabbi, and your issues; it’s about the people who are sitting in shul, and what interests and motivates them.
2) Recognize that rabbis don’t change people, people change themselves. If anything, the speech is about helping people to decide to change themselves. Present a case, but don’t expect anything grand to happen; that’s an inappropriate expectation.
3) Realize that you, Rabbi, may have been thinking about a certain topic or issue for a long time, but your thoughts need to be properly unpacked and presented for the listeners.
4) Please, Rabbi, please only speak about topics you know about and understand.
5) Classes are Talmud Torah; speeches generally are not Talmud Torah. The venue is wrong, the lecture format doesn’t work well. Reaching HaShem and meeting HaShem’s expectations is (hopefully) the goal of rabbinic leadership, and Torah is your medium, your way of conveying a message, your way of inviting people to aim for achieving that in the future.
6) And above all, Rabbi: If your message isn’t inspiring to you, don’t bother delivering it. Tell people you have a cold this week, or make up some other excuse, but giving a dead speech will not only waste everyone’s time this week, it will also burn your capital for the future.
And on that happy note, I’m off to write my speech for Shoftim…wish me luck.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Gittin 37-40 - Prozbul, Aliyah laRegel, Jurisprudence, and davening with a minyan
I am way behind on publishing these notes; sorry to take so long. If they are of interest to anyone, great. If they bore you to tears, go read my Elul Panic Attack below.
Gittin 37a
The gemara talks about possible origins for the word Prozbul, and offers some interesting reads. It seems clear that this of non-Semitic origin, though, like Sanhedrin and Parhedrin.
We say here that the borrower must have some minimal amount of land in order for Prozbul to work, and the gemara talks about the lender licensing land to the borrower if the borrower does not own land.
This would seem to pose a problem for the Torah Temimah’s explanation for a nuance of the mitzvah of aliyah laregel. The gemara (Pesachim 8b) says that one is obligated in that mitzvah only if he owns land - but the Rambam omits that point. The Torah Temimah suggests that the Rambam omits it because he believes that all Jews automatically have a right to four amot in Israel - but then there should be no need for this law of Prozbul requiring land ownership! (Unless it needs to be more concrete for the sake of a lien?)
Gittin 37b
The gemara here allows a judge to help a litigant make his claim, arguing that this is “opening one’s mouth on behalf of the mute פתח פיך לאלם.” We find a similar view expressed by Rav Huna in Yerushalmi Sanhedrin 3:8.
There is much we could say regarding this, but for now we’ll just note that this is justified in two ways: (1) Hashavat Aveidah in restoring the (potential) loss of the litigant, or (2) Part of the judges’ requirement of achieving truth (Rashba in Shut Rashba 2:404).
The problem, of course, is that this might contradict the judge’s need to maintain neutrality and not appear to aid any one side! For more on this point see Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Sanhedrin 21:8-11, Tashbetz to Pirkei Avot 1:8, Rashbash 288, Tur Choshen Mishpat 17, Shulchan Aruch Choshen Mishpat 17:9, Shut Chaim b’Yad 45, Shut Yachel Yisrael 102.
Gittin 38a
See Tosafot אבל on how one ‘acquires’ right to an עבד.
The term אמה as used here for a non-Jewish עבד seems odd; I was under the impression that we usually used אמה for a Jew and שפחה for a non-Jew.
Gittin 38b
The gemara here justifies overriding a biblical prohibition for the sake of davening with a minyan, saying, “a mitzvah is different מצוה שאני.” This is odd - although Rav Moshe Feinstein does (in a teshuvah) seem to say one cannot fulfill the core mitzvah of davening if he davens alone, that is a landmark statement!
It appears that one reason we specify one should eat his larger Shabbos meal as the second meal is because in their day one’s major meal was the midday meal, as it is continues in Europe today?
Gittin 39b
Rashi feels the need to translate בית תפילה, informing us this is a בית כנסת, probably because the gemara’s usual term for synagogue is בית כנסת (Hebrew) or בי כנישתא (Aramaic).
Gittin 40a
Tosafot כשרבו here stands by his view, more famously expressed at the end of Rosh haShanah, that one may perform a mitzvah from which he is exempt, and recite the berachah upon it - even if that mitzvah is tefillin.
Gittin 40b
See Tosafot וכתב as far as who freed the עבד here.
See Rashi’s two views on וכולן בשטר.
If one party acknowledges having given his property to another, and that other denies it, why don’t we say that whoever takes it first, gets it - it should be Hefker (ownerless)?
Perhaps this is because Hefker applies where one has no right to it. Here, one has a right and is simply unaware of it.
Gittin 37a
The gemara talks about possible origins for the word Prozbul, and offers some interesting reads. It seems clear that this of non-Semitic origin, though, like Sanhedrin and Parhedrin.
We say here that the borrower must have some minimal amount of land in order for Prozbul to work, and the gemara talks about the lender licensing land to the borrower if the borrower does not own land.
This would seem to pose a problem for the Torah Temimah’s explanation for a nuance of the mitzvah of aliyah laregel. The gemara (Pesachim 8b) says that one is obligated in that mitzvah only if he owns land - but the Rambam omits that point. The Torah Temimah suggests that the Rambam omits it because he believes that all Jews automatically have a right to four amot in Israel - but then there should be no need for this law of Prozbul requiring land ownership! (Unless it needs to be more concrete for the sake of a lien?)
Gittin 37b
The gemara here allows a judge to help a litigant make his claim, arguing that this is “opening one’s mouth on behalf of the mute פתח פיך לאלם.” We find a similar view expressed by Rav Huna in Yerushalmi Sanhedrin 3:8.
There is much we could say regarding this, but for now we’ll just note that this is justified in two ways: (1) Hashavat Aveidah in restoring the (potential) loss of the litigant, or (2) Part of the judges’ requirement of achieving truth (Rashba in Shut Rashba 2:404).
The problem, of course, is that this might contradict the judge’s need to maintain neutrality and not appear to aid any one side! For more on this point see Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Sanhedrin 21:8-11, Tashbetz to Pirkei Avot 1:8, Rashbash 288, Tur Choshen Mishpat 17, Shulchan Aruch Choshen Mishpat 17:9, Shut Chaim b’Yad 45, Shut Yachel Yisrael 102.
Gittin 38a
See Tosafot אבל on how one ‘acquires’ right to an עבד.
The term אמה as used here for a non-Jewish עבד seems odd; I was under the impression that we usually used אמה for a Jew and שפחה for a non-Jew.
Gittin 38b
The gemara here justifies overriding a biblical prohibition for the sake of davening with a minyan, saying, “a mitzvah is different מצוה שאני.” This is odd - although Rav Moshe Feinstein does (in a teshuvah) seem to say one cannot fulfill the core mitzvah of davening if he davens alone, that is a landmark statement!
It appears that one reason we specify one should eat his larger Shabbos meal as the second meal is because in their day one’s major meal was the midday meal, as it is continues in Europe today?
Gittin 39b
Rashi feels the need to translate בית תפילה, informing us this is a בית כנסת, probably because the gemara’s usual term for synagogue is בית כנסת (Hebrew) or בי כנישתא (Aramaic).
Gittin 40a
Tosafot כשרבו here stands by his view, more famously expressed at the end of Rosh haShanah, that one may perform a mitzvah from which he is exempt, and recite the berachah upon it - even if that mitzvah is tefillin.
Gittin 40b
See Tosafot וכתב as far as who freed the עבד here.
See Rashi’s two views on וכולן בשטר.
If one party acknowledges having given his property to another, and that other denies it, why don’t we say that whoever takes it first, gets it - it should be Hefker (ownerless)?
Perhaps this is because Hefker applies where one has no right to it. Here, one has a right and is simply unaware of it.
Elul Panic Attack
| I am so not ready to answer for my mistakes. | I am so not ready to give ten zillion speeches in a month. | |
| I am so not ready to end my arrogance. | I am so not ready to convince others to end theirs. | |
| I am so not ready to admit all of my ulterior motives. | I rely on those ulterior motives to drive much that I do. | |
| I spent far too much time on shul and community this year, when I should have spent it on family. | I did not spend enough time this year taking care of the indigent and the emotionally needy. | |
| I am afraid to sit down and write my cheshbon hanefesh. | I have no time for a cheshbon hanefesh, even had I the guts. | |
| I long to spend more time with my children, both because I want to and because I should, because they need a father who will be there with them and because they need an Abba who will teach them. | I jitter in my chair, my knee jumping, as I try to assemble ideas into paragraphs to say something new, to inspire, to direct, to convey the awe of judgment without haranguing my shul into boredom. | |
| I often think that my saving grace as a human being is my sincerity, the fact that I lay it all out there with as much honesty as I can find inside. The challenge of parenting is to find a way to take all of that authenticity and express it in a way that will help my children find their own. | I often think that my saving grace as a rabbi is my sincerity, the fact that I lay it all out there with as much honesty as I can find inside. The challenge of speechwriting is to find a way to take all of that authenticity and express it in a way that will challenge and not tear down, build and not destroy. | |
| Some people tell me I am a great father, seeing my beautiful - thank Gd - children and the way they behave so nicely in public, sitting by my side in shul and doing well in school. But in this they rob my wife of the credit which is entirely hers, and inappropriately credit me for the work of another. | Some people call me their favorite rabbi (I kid you not) and other inappropriately laudatory names, measuring with the naked eye, all too willing to judge on the side of merit and go by what they see. I know they only mean to judge what they see and nothing more, but it is still frustrating to know they miss the שלא לשמה self-aggrandizement, the insecurity, the many inappropriate motivations which make Mordechai run. |
I do believe I am a better person, and a better rabbi, than I was one year ago. Some would call this a significant accomplishment, and I do not belittle it. But I can do more - not to quote Barack Obama, but I am better than this.
I need to feel that drive to do more. Elul ceases to be frightening for me when I get past the regret and move into moving on, when I stop feeling sorry for my challenges and commit myself to specific action. It will come. Hopefully soon.
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