Today is the fifth American inauguration since I've been able to vote there, and tomorrow will be my fifth Israeli election since I've been able to vote here. It seems like an opportune time to take the reader through the evolution of one Israeli voter.
1) Denial: This is awesome! Thirty parties instead of two, a voting booth sponsored by letters A through Z, an actual blue cardboard box to put your popular post-it in--it's so cool. I'll definitely find a party that represents me!
2) Anger: I can't believe that my party didn't get in/ is out of the coalition/ is in the coalition but sold out its constituents. You bastards! I am not falling for the same trick twice--I'll vote for the other guys. Or, you know, the other other guys. Or maybe the Pot Survivors Party. I've got options!
3) Bargaining: C'mon, isn't there one issue I can trust someone on? I'll accept your hacks and your deputy ministers of sanitation, just keep one promise! Please?
4) Depression: It doesn't make a difference, does it? We have no states, provinces or districts. Even if the party I vote for gets in and sits in the government, I have no address to turn to. F- it, who'd I vote for last time? I wouldn't even vote if we didn't get a day off.
5) Acceptance: Serenity now. I can't worry about who will form a government with whom or which back-benchers will be left in the Knesset to actually pas legislation. I have to vote with my heart, damn the consequences.
So where has this led me? Well, it's MLK Day, so I'm going with a fiery reverend who dreams of integrating the black community with society as a whole. He's been condemned, vilified, excommunicated, hounded and threatened, but he still holds his head high. He believes that a free nation cannot prosper with a permanent underclass. He knows the best way to fight racism is with fortitude and dignity. He wants you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. His name is MK Rabbi Haim Amsalem. My vote may get his party over the threshold, or it may not. I've accepted that, and life is much better that way.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
The Abominable Jewman
The term abomination, to’eva,
is one of the most loaded words in Scripture, used in sexual, dietary and
commercial contexts. However, the term first appears to describe Egyptian, not
Jewish, mores. At the end of Exodus 8, in the midst of the Ten Plagues, Pharaoh
offers a compromise to Moses: "Go, sacrifice to your God in the land.” Moses
replies: "We cannot do so, for the abomination of Egypt we sacrifice to
Lord our God. If we sacrifice the abomination of Egypt before their eyes, will
they not stone us?” The standard approach is that “abomination” is a term for
pagan gods, and a number of commentators point specifically to Aries, the Lamb,
which is the astrological sign of Nisan, the month of Passover and the Exodus.
But there is a little problem
here: if the Egyptians worship the lamb, why not bring goats? And if they worship
all tzon, flocks, i.e. sheep and the goats, why not bring cattle? Even
after the plague of darkness, Moses says (10:26): "And we do not know with
what we will worship Lord until we come there." Moreover, we see in this
week's reading that the Egyptians treat these animals as property (9:3): "Behold,
Lord’s hand will have been upon your livestock in the field: upon horses, upon donkeys, upon
camels, upon cattle and upon flocks.” Then, of course, we have the awkwardness
of the situation: is Moses really trying to negotiate while mocking Egypt’s
gods?
The fact is that “the abomination of Egypt" first appears in the book of Genesis. Before Joseph reveals himself to his brothers, the Torah (43:32) observes, "For the Egyptians are not able to eat bread with Hebrews, as this is an abomination for Egypt.” After he reveals himself, he instructs his brothers (46:34): “And you shall say, ‘Your servants have always been men of livestock, both we and our forebears,’ so that you will reside in the land of Goshen, for every shepherd is the abomination of Egypt.” The abomination is not the animal, but the person who deals with it. We find echoes of this in our sources as well, in which shepherds are considered particularly unreliable, even compared to cowherds (Sanhedrin 3:2, Yevamot 16a). The Rashbam puts it this way (Bava Batra 128a): “Cowherds are not well-versed in the law, but shepherds are not mentioned at all because they are wicked, as the average herders of smaller animals are thieves, unacceptable for any legal function.” In Egypt, we find “officers of livestock,” as Pharaoh says to Joseph: “And if you know that among them are men of valor, appoint them as officers of livestock over that which is mine” (47:6). These officers are part of the Pharaonic power structure, but shepherds, the loners and drifters who have little use for central authority, are dangerous and therefore contemptible. Joseph's ruse is too clever by far, as the Egyptians not only isolate the Jews, they demonize them as well.
If so, "the abomination of Egypt” is not the sacrifice, but the sacrificer, the Proverbial (15:8, 21:27) “sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination.” Moses basically says to Pharaoh: in Egypt, we Hebrews are repulsive and hateful, bandits and villains, animals and untermenschen — do you think they'll let us sacrifice within the sacred precincts of the land of Egypt? So long as the Israelites are in Egypt, they cannot serve God openly.
For thousands of years, Jews accepted their hateful status in the eyes of the nations, being considered robbers and swindlers — that was fine for us, as long as we were left a small place, a ghetto of Goshen, where we might keep our identities and names. However, this is an untenable situation. Second-class citizenry ultimately leads to oppression, slavery and, all too often, genocide. The abominable Hebrews become the proud Israelites only when they declare: we are not men of livestock; we are men of valor.
The fact is that “the abomination of Egypt" first appears in the book of Genesis. Before Joseph reveals himself to his brothers, the Torah (43:32) observes, "For the Egyptians are not able to eat bread with Hebrews, as this is an abomination for Egypt.” After he reveals himself, he instructs his brothers (46:34): “And you shall say, ‘Your servants have always been men of livestock, both we and our forebears,’ so that you will reside in the land of Goshen, for every shepherd is the abomination of Egypt.” The abomination is not the animal, but the person who deals with it. We find echoes of this in our sources as well, in which shepherds are considered particularly unreliable, even compared to cowherds (Sanhedrin 3:2, Yevamot 16a). The Rashbam puts it this way (Bava Batra 128a): “Cowherds are not well-versed in the law, but shepherds are not mentioned at all because they are wicked, as the average herders of smaller animals are thieves, unacceptable for any legal function.” In Egypt, we find “officers of livestock,” as Pharaoh says to Joseph: “And if you know that among them are men of valor, appoint them as officers of livestock over that which is mine” (47:6). These officers are part of the Pharaonic power structure, but shepherds, the loners and drifters who have little use for central authority, are dangerous and therefore contemptible. Joseph's ruse is too clever by far, as the Egyptians not only isolate the Jews, they demonize them as well.
If so, "the abomination of Egypt” is not the sacrifice, but the sacrificer, the Proverbial (15:8, 21:27) “sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination.” Moses basically says to Pharaoh: in Egypt, we Hebrews are repulsive and hateful, bandits and villains, animals and untermenschen — do you think they'll let us sacrifice within the sacred precincts of the land of Egypt? So long as the Israelites are in Egypt, they cannot serve God openly.
For thousands of years, Jews accepted their hateful status in the eyes of the nations, being considered robbers and swindlers — that was fine for us, as long as we were left a small place, a ghetto of Goshen, where we might keep our identities and names. However, this is an untenable situation. Second-class citizenry ultimately leads to oppression, slavery and, all too often, genocide. The abominable Hebrews become the proud Israelites only when they declare: we are not men of livestock; we are men of valor.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Sodom and Gemara
There are many misconceptions about Judaism's attitude towards homosexuality. The biggest is that Sodom was destroyed for what we call sodomy, which Ezekiel clearly refutes (16:49). But there are also some later, post-biblical sources which have been used to attack Orthodox Jews who have urged a more open attitude toward gays in the community, such as my teacher, Rabbi Dr. Aharon Lichtenstein (see http://pagesoffaith.wordpress.com/2012/12/02/perspective-on-homosexuals/ , which was then translated into Hebrew, which one major Israeli news website then rather hilariously translated back into English).
The argument goes like this: both the Talmud (Chullin 92a-b) and Midrash (Genesis Rabba 26:5) openly decry gay marriage--the former cites banning it as one of the few things non-Jews do right, while the latter blames Noah's flood on allowing it.
Really? Let's look at the first source: "Ulla said, 'These are the thirty commandments which the sons of Noah accepted upon themselves, but they only fulfill three: a) they do not write a ketuba for men; b) they do not weight dead meat in the market; c) they respect the Torah.'"
What is a ketuba? Essentially, it is a prenuptial agreement, designed to protect widowed or divorced women from being left destitute. The text does not make clear whether we are talking about two men marrying each other or men in general who are marrying women. Yes, Rashi takes the first approach, but he himself does not conclude whether the "dead meat" referred to in b) is of human or animal origin. Moreover, this is presented among the things which humanity (the sons of Noah) "accepted upon themselves," not those which they were commanded by God. Finally, this passage appears in the Jerusalem Talmud (AZ 2:1) in the name of an earlier sage, but without the three exceptions.
What about the Midrash? "Rabbi Huna said in the name of Rabbi [Judah the Prince]: 'The generation of the Flood was not washed away until they wrote hymenaios for buggery and bestiality.'" Hymen, of course, was the ancient Greek god of marriage, and hymenaios is a genre of lyric poetry and song in his honor. One can imagine what kind of songs these might be. Yes, there are some who translate this term as "ketuba", but the etymology does not support it, not to mention the ridiculous image of writing a prenuptial for a sheep! If making lewd jokes about gay sex brings a Deluge, there are more than a few yeshivot which might want to look into flood insurance.
The relationship of Judaism with homosexuality is a fraught one, but we do ourselves no favors by reading our texts casually and peremptorily.
The argument goes like this: both the Talmud (Chullin 92a-b) and Midrash (Genesis Rabba 26:5) openly decry gay marriage--the former cites banning it as one of the few things non-Jews do right, while the latter blames Noah's flood on allowing it.
Really? Let's look at the first source: "Ulla said, 'These are the thirty commandments which the sons of Noah accepted upon themselves, but they only fulfill three: a) they do not write a ketuba for men; b) they do not weight dead meat in the market; c) they respect the Torah.'"
What is a ketuba? Essentially, it is a prenuptial agreement, designed to protect widowed or divorced women from being left destitute. The text does not make clear whether we are talking about two men marrying each other or men in general who are marrying women. Yes, Rashi takes the first approach, but he himself does not conclude whether the "dead meat" referred to in b) is of human or animal origin. Moreover, this is presented among the things which humanity (the sons of Noah) "accepted upon themselves," not those which they were commanded by God. Finally, this passage appears in the Jerusalem Talmud (AZ 2:1) in the name of an earlier sage, but without the three exceptions.
What about the Midrash? "Rabbi Huna said in the name of Rabbi [Judah the Prince]: 'The generation of the Flood was not washed away until they wrote hymenaios for buggery and bestiality.'" Hymen, of course, was the ancient Greek god of marriage, and hymenaios is a genre of lyric poetry and song in his honor. One can imagine what kind of songs these might be. Yes, there are some who translate this term as "ketuba", but the etymology does not support it, not to mention the ridiculous image of writing a prenuptial for a sheep! If making lewd jokes about gay sex brings a Deluge, there are more than a few yeshivot which might want to look into flood insurance.
The relationship of Judaism with homosexuality is a fraught one, but we do ourselves no favors by reading our texts casually and peremptorily.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Exodus, Plan B
In his very
first prophecy, Moses sets himself apart
— as the Torah later describes his unique experience (Ex. 33:11): “And God
spoke to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his fellow." The term
"And he said" is repeated 23 times in 39 verses, but the Torah adds a
verb at the beginning of Chapter Four: "And Moses responded and he
said." This seems to indicate a tonal shift, and the Midrash (Shemot Rabba
ad loc.) indeed notes:
“And Moses responded and he said, ‘But they will not believe me nor listen
to my voice’” — at this point, Moses
spoke improperly; God told him, “And they will listen to your voice,” but he
said, “But they will not believe me.” God immediately reacted accordingly,
giving him signs as he asked.
If so, there
is a transition here between Chapters Three and Four, although of course the chapter
divisions in the Torah are a later invention (and Christian). In Chapter Three,
Moses is to gather the elders, give them the password "I have certainly
taken account" and lead them to Pharaoh's palace. Pharaoh will not agree
initially to let the people go, but God’s “wonders” will force him to do so.
There is only one “sign”: “And this is
the sign that I have sent you: when you bring the people out of Egypt, you
shall worship God upon this mountain.” In other words, Moses will present his
bona fides as a fait accompli.
In Chapter
Four, on the other hand, the elders are not mentioned; instead, Aaron is appointed
as Moses’ mouthpiece. There are numerous
“signs” to convince the people, and there are “miracles” to sway Pharaoh, but
the “wonders” vanish. Moreover, we hear for the first time of Pharaoh's heart
issues: "And I will strengthen his heart, and he will not let the people
go." The implication seems to be that if the Israelites can be persuaded
verbally, then Pharaoh can be moved by God’s wonders. However, if the people
require legerdemain, then the persuasion of Pharaoh must be far more elaborate
and grand, with miracles shattering his stone heart. Everything has changed
because of the crucial words of Moses (Midrash Sekhel Tov ad loc.), “‘But they
will not believe me nor listen to my voice’ — verily they are believers born of
believers in You, but they will not believe me.”
In this light, we can understand the bizarre happening at the end of Chapter Four, "And it was along the
way, at the inn, that God encountered him and sought to kill him.” Moses’
hesitation ultimately delays and complicates the Exodus, and God’s fury is
understandable. It is only when Zipporah circumcises their son, symbolizing
what is at stake for the next generation, that God releases Moses. However,
this is merely temporary, a stay of execution, for forty years. As the Talmud
(Shabbat 97a) notes, Moses’ ultimate death sentence for lack of faith (Num.
20:12) is predicated on his statement here: “But they will not believe me.”
These days, as we reexamine the role of government in our
lives, we must remember how important it is to have bold and decisive leaders. “Believers born of
believers” require their political representatives to believe in themselves
above all. A society cannot change if its leaders do not have the faith and the courage
to lead.
Saturday, December 29, 2012
The Jewish Santa
Let me just say
this: Hanuka is not a major Jewish holiday, it's just the closest festival to
Christmas. (Next year, it starts on Thanksgiving.) It's not even in the top
ten. The proper analogue would
be Passover, and we have a 3000y-old Santa for that: Elijah the Prophet. He visits
every Jewish house in the world at the Passover Seder meal, but not to drink
milk--to drink wine! And he doesn't bring the kids presents; the kids blackmail
their parents for the afikoman, or the Seder cannot proceed. That's a useful
skill! Santa may have a sleigh w/ reindeer, but Elijah has a chariot of fire
with flaming horses.
JLI: Justice League of Israel
|
Peace, Truth and Reconciliation
The
Book of Genesis ends with a touching scene between Joseph and his
brothers, one of genuine reconciliation – built on a lie. The Midrash
Tanhuma (Tzav 10) writes:
Said Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel: “So
great is the power of peace that the Holy One, Blessed be He, wrote
fictions in the Torah for the sake of peace. For when Jacob
died… what did they do? They went to Bilha and told her: ‘Get in with
Joseph and tell him: “Your father commanded before he died, saying"’
(ibid v. 16), even though Jacob never commanded any of these things; rather, they said this on their own.”
In fact,
Scripture gives us some textual clues as well, using the exact same
expression to introduce the conflict between Esau and Jacob (27:3) as
it does to conclude the conflict between Joseph and his brothers
(50:17). Jacob lied to his own father, initiating a rift with his own
brother; now, his sons lie, in his name, in order to close the rift with
their brother.
But why do the brothers think that they have
to lie? Let us return to Joseph’s revelation in Chapter 45, seventeen
years earlier. We, of course, know that Joseph is sincere in wanting to
save his brothers, but from their point of view, his motives are a bit
murky. He asks if his father is still alive (45:3), then goes on to
stress how God has placed his brothers’ lives in his hands, including
the ominous (vv. 10-11): “You shall live in the land of Goshen, and you
shall be close to me — you, your children, your grandchildren, your
flocks, your cattle and all that is yours. I will sustain you there…” We
readers know that Joseph is not pretending, but this is not
self-evident to the brothers. Maybe he is genuine, maybe not. Maybe he
actually wants to reconcile, but maybe Joseph is now debuting a new
role: the forbearing philanthropist. Does the continued reference to
their lives and the lives of their families being in his hands
constitute reassurance, or a threat?
Why should Joseph harbor such a
grudge? The brothers know the truth: the original plan was (37:20),
"Now, let us go and kill him; we shall cast him in one of the pits and
say that a wild animal has eaten him.” Does Joseph know that? He accuses
them only of selling him, but it is impossible to know. Therefore
(50:15), "Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, and they
said, ‘It may be that Joseph will despise us and repay us all of the
evil which we dealt him.” Also,
the term "despise" is used in one place in the Torah outside of this
portion (Gen. 27:41): "And Esau despised Jacob for the blessing which
his father gave him, and Esau said in his heart: 'The days of mourning
for my father are close, and then I will kill Jacob my brother.'" They refer to “all of the evil” which they
had planned. For this reason, they offer the compromise of becoming his
slaves. If “all of the evil” refers merely to slavery, there would be
no reason to plead that their punishment be commuted to that; however,
they know they deserve the death penalty.
If so, it's not just a little white lie, whether Jacob asked for anything before his death, there are some big black lies. But all of that is built upon one huge truth: that the sons of Jacob want reconciliation: the brothers want to apologize and Joseph want to save them. "How great is the power of peace" — it gives us the opportunity to get to the real truth, emotional truth, the truth of peace.
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